Lyvana's mind raced, the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, the wet fabric of his shirt clinging to her skin. He wasn't listening to logic, and he wasn't listening to "no."
She realized that she was trapped in a six-foot stall with a man who wanted to ravish her. If she fought him, he'd only get tighter.
Then she thought of screaming but... um, that might actually be a bit odd.
Think, she commanded herself. At least get him out of the shower and into the open.
"Mark…" she said softly. "I do want you," she murmured, forcing a small, teasing smile that felt like lead on her face. "But you're doing this wrong."
His brows drew together. "What do you mean?"
