I pushed him. I wasn’t intending to, it just happened. Like the way my feelings for him grew into something I can’t control. It’s just happening before me and the feeling that there’s nothing I can do to hold onto him, to keep him, feels both like lead weight in my body, and miraculously empty.

He clenches his jaw, holding onto whatever bullshit composure he’s attempting. Typical Aleck would have his dick buried so deep inside me by now, I’d be able to taste it. This Aleck is reserved, slow, gentle, fucking sensual.

He reaches forward, pulling me into his chest. His lips landing on my neck, he kisses down to my collarbone thoughtfully and delicately. Most women would crave this. The man who acts like a wild animal in bed is now being tender. He’s trying to do it soft and slow, like we’re two people in love. Most women would eat this up.

Hell, I normally would. But I know him better than that. I know what this means.

I push him again as anger quakes my body, threatening a tantrum to rise to the surface. My pupils dig into his like little daggers pushing their way in painfully. He swipes his hand through his dripping wet hair, fighting to keep his calm composure, and takes a step toward me, sliding his hands over my waist.

If he doesn’t want me, he isn’t allowed to make love to me, only fuck me. I push him again, this time his back hits the tile wall with a splash.

Baring his teeth with a growl, he drops the loofah and takes the two steps between us with fierce, feral energy. My eyes widen with fear. I’ve seen him angry, but I’ve never seen him like this.

He grabs the backs of my knees and lifts me, slamming my back into the wall behind me, the hard, icy surface connected with my spine, making me wince from pain. Before I could react, Aleck thrusts his hips upward, sinking himself deep inside me in one ragged movement.

I gasp so loudly, the hiss echoes against the walls of the bathroom.

Aleck presses his lips into my ear, thrusting inside me, hard and callously. “You want me to fuck you like I hate you, Winter?”

I don’t answer. Yes and no, I think.

I love fucking Aleck this way. I love it when he’s rough and unapologetic. As crazy as it sounds, it makes me want to please him with my obedience. But I don’t want Aleck to hate me. In truth, I want Aleck to love me. The way I love him. The realization brings tears to my eyes, but they go unnoticed as the showerhead rains water over us.

“Answer me!” he bites out, making more tears rise to the surface, his cock hitting deep inside.

“Stop trying to make love to me like you’re saying goodbye!” I cry.

“No,” he spits, his tone grave and deep. “You’d rather I fuck you like I don’t give a shit about you. Like I hate you. Is that what you want?”