June

I don’t answer his question.

We hold each other’s gaze, the shower clattering, our breath is the only sound in the bathroom. His fingers clamp around my wrists, dragging them down hard until I feel him.

My lips part slowly, chest heaving.

"Here," he rasps, the sound rough, almost… pleading.

My breath shatters. I nod, small, helpless, and my fingers curl at the edge of his towel. With a shaky tug, it falls away.

"Oh… God."

My jaw slack. I nearly stumble forward, my body ...