The front door slammed shut with a satisfying thud as Benji trudged into the house, his muscles aching from a brutal gym session. Sweat clung to his skin, glistening under the soft glow of the hallway light, and all he could think about was a cold drink to quench the fire in his throat. But before he could make it to the kitchen, a sound stopped him dead in his tracks—the seductive rush of running water echoing from the bathroom. His lips curled into a faint smirk. He knew exactly who was behind that siren call.
“Oi, sweaty beast, you gonna stand there stinking up the house, or are you gonna drag your sorry ass in here?” Bridget’s voice sliced through the sound of the shower, sharp as a whip and dripping with playful venom. “I’m not waiting all day, you know!”
Benji chuckled under his breath, peeling off his damp gym shirt and tossing it aside. The fabric hit the floor with a wet slap, and already a familiar heat stirred in his veins, unrelated to the workout he’d just endured. Steam was already creeping out from under the bathroom door, fogging up the mirrors in the hall as he approached. His heart gave a little kick of anticipation.
Pushing the door open, he was greeted by a vision that could’ve stopped time itself. Through the glass enclosure of the spacious shower, Bridget’s athletic silhouette gleamed under the cascading water. Rivulets ran down her curves, tracing paths over her triple D breasts, the wet sheen of her skin making every inch of her look like a damn work of art. She turned her head, catching his gaze, her hazel eyes flashing with mischief as a wicked grin spread across her face.
“About bloody time, lazy lug,” she taunted, her voice cutting through the steam like a blade. She raised a soapy hand, gesturing for him to hurry. “What, did you stop to admire yourself in every mirror on the way? Move it!”
Benji let out a low laugh, his fingers already working at the waistband of his shorts. “Keep running that mouth, Bridge. See where it gets you.” He shed the rest of his clothes in record time, his impressive 20-inch length stirring to life at the mere sight of her. The tight coil of anticipation in his gut wound tighter as he stepped forward.
The hot water hit his skin as he entered the shower, a thousand tiny needles washing away the grime of the day. But he barely noticed the sting—Bridget was on him in an instant, her wet body pressing against his with a force that stole his breath. Her hands roamed over his chiseled frame, nails digging lightly into the taut muscles of his back as she leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear.
“Slowpoke,” she mocked, her voice a sultry growl. “Thought I’d have to start without you. You gonna keep up with me, or do I need to find someone who can?”
Benji’s hands found her hips, gripping tight, the slickness of the water making every touch feel electric. “Oh, I’ll keep up, darlin’,” he shot back, his voice rough with desire as his breath hitched. She nipped at his neck, a taunting laugh escaping her lips, and he felt the heat between them flare like wildfire.
Bridget pulled back just enough to lock eyes with him, her gaze burning with a mix of challenge and raw hunger. “Then stop messing around,” she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Take me, Benji. Rough. Now.” She braced herself against the tiled wall, her body arching in invitation, daring him to match her intensity.
His heart pounded like a drum in his chest as he aligned himself, the tight, welcoming heat of her drawing a low groan from his throat. She gasped as he pushed in, taking him fully, her body trembling with the sheer intensity of it. The sound of her moans mingled with the relentless patter of the water, her athletic frame arching against him with every thrust, their rhythm raw and primal. Her taunts melted into breathless encouragements, each word spurring him on.
“Harder,” she panted, her voice a mix of demand and desperation. “Don’t you dare hold back.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he growled, his grip on her hips tightening as he gave her exactly what she wanted.
Then, with a glint in her eye, Bridget’s tone turned commanding again. “Lift me,” she said, her voice brooking no argument. “Now.”
Benji didn’t hesitate. With a grunt of effort, he hoisted her up with ease, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed her against the glass enclosure. Her full breasts squashed against the cool surface, the contrast of heat and cold sending visible shivers through her frame. He felt the tight clench of her around him, every movement amplified by the wet friction, driving him damn near to the edge.
“You better not drop me, gym rat,” she teased, her voice breathy but still sharp with humor, even as her nails dug into his shoulders for balance.
“Drop you?” Benji grunted, a smirk tugging at his lips as he adjusted his grip, thrusting deeper. “Not a chance, bossy little minx. You’re stuck with me now.”
Their laughter mingled with the steam, a crackling mix of humor and heat as their passion built to a fever pitch. The bathroom echoed with the sounds of water, gasps, and the playful barbs they tossed at each other, each word fueling the fire between them. In that tiled sanctuary, with the world shut out, they were nothing but raw need and unbridled desire—and neither of them would have it any other way.
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga — or write a steamy tale starring you.