Tears burn my eyes and I stick my face under the spray of the shower. “Anything you want to know. I have a ton of pictures…” I can’t finish the sentence, but I gesture wildly toward the living room.

“Hey.” He sets his hands on my shoulder and turns me to face him. Except, I can’t face him, so I press my forehead to his wet, slippery chest instead.

His chest rises and falls. He runs his hands up and down my back, offering comfort without saying a word.

After a few minutes, he says in a low voice, “I put the deposit on the house this morning.”

“Thank you.”

He leans down and tips my head back. “Thank you.”

“I mean for doing everything. Finding the place. Looking at it—”

“It’s the least I could do when I’m asking you to uproot your life for the club.”

“You’re not…I want…I want to be where you are.”

He answers with a kiss, pressing his warm, soft lips against mine while the water pours down over us. Nothing more than a kiss and a little of his hands roaming.

The water gradually cools and he reaches past me to shut it off.

“I didn’t get to wash your hair,” I protest.

His mouth kicks into a devilish smile. “I came in here to get dirty, not clean.”

My gaze strays in the direction of Chance’s room and Z chuckles. “Parents still do that, right? I mean, otherwise everyone would be an only child.”

I don’t have an answer other than to laugh.

He steps out of the shower first and scoops me up.

“We’re all slippery.” I dig my nails into his shoulder. “You’re going to drop me.”

“You’ve always been hard to hold onto.” He sets me down on the counter. “But I’ve got you for good this time.”

No point in searching for the double-meaning there.

He steps back and reaches out to lock the bathroom door. “Just in case.”

“What do you think is happening in here?”

I’m kidding, of course. The answer’s written on his face. In the way his eyes blaze a trail over my body as he prowls closer. And if those things didn’t clue me in, his thick erection is a statement all its own.

“I missed you.” He braces his hands on my knees, gently pushing them apart and stepping between them. “A lot.”

“I’m all wet.”

“Good.”

No more talking. He traces a line up my leg with his fingers, stopping to settle his thumb in the crease of my thigh, then crushes his mouth against mine. I’m so caught up in his kiss, I gasp in surprise when he slips his arms under my knees, lifting and tilting me.

“Hang on,” he rasps. “This’ll be quick and furious.” One corner of his mouth lifts. “And quiet.”