“You know there’s a drought,” I feebly protested as he pushed me against the shower tile, his arms braced on either side of my head. Warm water sprinkled down on us.
Zach didn’t even bother to reply. Instead he pushed me harder against the tiles and covered my protesting mouth with his own. He sure as f**k knew how to kiss. For several minutes he just slanted his warm, dry lips over mine. Occasionally he nipped his teeth over my bottom lip.
I went to move my hands from the side of the shower wall to around his neck.
“No,” he growled. “Hands where they are at your side.”
I whimpered in protest, which just earned me his teeth sinking into my lip, a little harder this time.
“Behave.”
His lips returned to mine, bruising in their fierceness, and I moaned in response. He thrust his tongue
