He stepped in behind them both.
Stood under the spray with complete indifference to the cold, water running immediately over his hair and down his shoulders and chest and cock, and looked at both women with the same flat expression.
He reached forward.
And turned the temperature up by one increment.
One.
Waited ten full seconds.
Jenny pressed herself against the far glass wall making sounds through her teeth.
Vivienne stood perfectly still, eyes still closed, jaw working.
He turned it up one more increment.
Waited.
Another.
Until the steam began and the cold was fully gone and both women stood under the now-hot spray with their hair plastered flat and their skin flushed pink and their earlier argument about temperature having been rendered entirely irrelevant.
He pressed Jenny against the glass wall.
Back to him, palms finding the surface on instinct, her breath fogging the glass in front of her face.
