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“Amy, look at me and ask for what you want.”
    Breathing hard, she forced her eyes open and blinked rapidly in the spray of water. Mac’s face was centimeters from hers, his eyes dark and intent. So close the tip of her tongue caressed his lips when she licked hers. This was it. What she’d wanted from him. Control and insistence she recognize his power. His attention, his selfishness. The water began to lose its heat but her body didn’t. She swallowed, flushed and hot, and said, “Will you fuck me, Mac?”
    He surged between her legs, riding the slick valley but still holding back. “That’s not all you want. Tell me the damned truth.”
    She curled her hands into fists above her head. “God, Mac. I want you to make me feel like I belong to you. Like you want the world to know I belong to you.”
    He ducked his head, but not before she saw the surprise in his eyes. He released her hands, cupped her ass and lifted her. The grout between the tiles, jagged in places, scraped her shoulders as he slid her up the wall. Amy reflexively wrapped her arms around his neck and spread her legs.
    “There’s no way I can be gentle with you right now,” he muttered.
    Her eyes closed against the deluge of water raining over them and she rocked her head back against the wall. Gentle or brutal didn’t matter; she exulted in the physical contact, the solid assurance he still wanted her. She hiked her legs up high around his waist and dug her heels against the small of his back, ensuring he couldn’t rescind his claim. 
    He pumped hard and fast, shoving her into the wall, his fingertips digging painfully into her hips. Amy worked one hand between their bodies. Her fingertips slipped over her clit and a tiny shock of climax jolted through her limbs. Mac bit her shoulder, punishing, hard. “No. Not until I say so.”
     Wild with want, desperate to please him, she balled her hand into a fist. Mac drove into her another half dozen times and growled “Mine” in her ear as he came. After, with the water pounding cold over their heads and Amy trembling in his arms, he whispered, “I love you.”
     
     

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Twice wasn’t enough. His cock stirred again, rising against her thigh. Even the chill that had set into her skin didn’t diminish the drive to fill her again. He kissed the side of her neck, her cheek, and turned off the water. He ignored the urge to take her a third time, still conscious of the fact he’d selfishly denied her climax. This soon after breaking abstinence, despite coming twice, he wasn’t certain he’d be generous enough to focus on her. Amy didn’t need further stimulation, anyway, if her jumping pulse and jittery hands were any indication. The shell-shocked look in her eyes worried him even as her fragility turned him on.  Her vulnerability shouldn’t arouse him.
    “Come dry off.” He dragged a towel off the rack hanging over the laundry hamper and rubbed it over her shoulders.
    Amy drew a corner of the towel up to dry her face and ears. He started to scrub at her hair and hesitated. “How long until the dye fades?”
    “Not long. A week. It’s temporary.”
    “Good. Don’t do it again. It doesn’t look like you.”
    She lowered her eyes. “I won’t.”
    He dried her hair and drew her from the tub, carefully blotting the water from her legs and feet.
    “Can I have my robe?”
    Mac hesitated, remembering the way she’d covered herself in the shower. Looking up the line of her body, he met her eyes. “Do you want it because you’re cold or because you’re naked?”
    She frowned, relieving his worry she was retreating from him. A frown was a sign of emotion, something besides meek surrender.
    “I’m cold because I’m naked,” she said.
    Mac straightened and dried himself with the damp towel. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
    “Then I don’t understand the question.”
    “Do you want to be warm, or do you want to be covered up so I can’t see you?”
    She