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Indy shrugged back. “Well, in that case you don’t have any authority right now, because I don’t see anyone submitting.”
“I do.” Ice’s eyes flashed wickedly. “Just look in the mirror in about three seconds and you’ll see her. Though I guess it’ll be hard to do that when you’re on your knees submitting to your warrior-king.”
Indy rolled her eyes again, but it was damn hard to keep the smile zipped behind her twitching lips. “That’s like the twentieth time you’ve asked me to go down on my knees. Wonder when you’ll figure out that it’s not going to happen.”
Ice grunted dismissively. “It was a metaphor. You don’t have to get on your knees to beg. You can do it standing up. Go on. I’m listening.”
“Good. Then you can hear my answer. It’sno. Now get out of the bathroom so I can finish my shower before I turn into a puckered lobster.”
“I like the wordpucker,” Ice whispered devilishly, making no attempt to leave the bathroom, showing no sign that he’d heard the wordno. “As in I’d like to inspect your pucker, Ma’am.”
Indy gasped in mortified shock, stumbling back as she was hit once again by the sickeningly filthy image of herself spread-eagled against the wall, legs wide apart, with Ice searching her from behind like the dirty Delta he clearly was inside.
But those two stumbling steps backward put Indy directly into the path of those snarling spitting showerheads, and the blast from the hot-water cannons surprised her enough that she lost her grip on the shower curtain.
The curtain fell away from her wet body, and as she gasped in the steam, sputtered in the stream, her eyelids fluttered open just enough to see the look on Ice’s face.
And she knew there was no turning back now.
“Turn around,” came the growl from somewhere deep in Ice’s thick throat. His eyes were dangerous slits of molten emerald, fists clenched and big like cinderblocks, cock at full mast, curving proudly upwards, a thick stream of pre-cum hanging down from its swollen tip. “Hands flat against the wall. Do it now.”
Indy froze in the scalding jets, her breath sucking in the hot steam, her skin burning with heat from both outside and inside. She gulped twice and blinked, instinctively knowing that this was the moment of truth, the end of the game. They had blazed past the flirty-playful part of this dance.
Now it was time to put up or shut up.
Ice’s restraint was stretched thin.
That animal inside was close to bursting out.
Indy couldn’t mess with him any longer.
Couldn’t tease him.
Couldn’t taunt him.
Couldn’t tame him.
She only had two choices here, and they were both serious as sin, decisive as death, final as fuck:
Turn him away for good.
Or turn around and do what he says.
Now the shower walls seemed to fall away, leaving nothing but the storming clouds and the thundering rain, nothing but a man and woman, nothing but his command and her response.
And so Indy responded.
She responded not from the victim in her.
Not from the target in her.
But from the woman in her.
And that woman turned and faced the wall.
Raised her bare arms in the smoky white steam.
Placed her palms flat against the glistening black marble.
