It all comes back in the morning. The feeling of being someone else’s. The understanding that everything will work out if we just try hard enough at it. That’s how I feel when I open my eyes and feel his arms around my chest.

“Good morning, baby,” he whispers. I get goose bumps, up and down my body. The sun shines through the window, across my face, and I stretch my body against its light.

“Morning,” I whisper, batting open my eyes. “What time is it?”

“It’s eleven,” he laughs.

My heart skips a beat. “It’s what?! Eleven? Shit, we slept in. We have to go to the shop,” I say, jumping up from the couch.

“No, it’s fine. Hanson is holding down the shop right now. I told him I’d pay him overtime,” he says.

I stop and stand in front of him. “And you can afford that?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “But I thought we could come up with a plan.”

“Last night. I forgot.” I yawn. “Listen, you’re the boss, but I’m not sure it’s a great idea to sell the company. I mean, what the hell are you going to do if you don’t have this job?”

He just climbs on top of my and pins me down. “Stay in bed with you,” he says.

I groan, but of course, I’m wet when he reaches down and touches me. I close my eyes and bit my lower lip slightly. “Ugh, you know I’d love that, but—”

“But what? It would be too much fun for you?” He kisses me. I taste him and reach up to kiss him one more time.

I pull away slowly and open my eyes again. Reality flushes back into my mind. “No. Well, yes, but you need income and I definitely need some too. So, I don’t know.”

“I’ll sell the house,” he says.

“Come on, Michael. The house? And live where? Here?” I ask him. When he just shrugs, I roll out of bed.

“No,” I laugh. “You’re not living here of all places.”

“Why not? It’s cozy here,” he says.

“Because we’re not at that level yet,” I protest. Hell no. I’m not ready to live with another man, yet.

He looks offended. So be it. Sometimes, you have to make it clear what the boundaries are. “Well, at least I know where you stand,” he says.

“It’s not that. I just want you to succeed. Trust me, I want Susan out of your life more than anybody else,” I say. “But I don’t know about this. This is your business. You made it right? You built it up?”

“I did.” He nods.

“Then don’t sell it. If you don’t want to make cabinets anymore, start building other things. I’m on board with whatever, but this is your namesake. Vanderbilt Carpentry. That’s you, not Susan,” I say.

I’m out of breath and exhausted from thinking about all of this, and I think he can tell. When he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the bathroom, I reluctantly follow. He turns on the shower and looks at me. “You’re right. And I’ll figure this out. Right now, I just want to enjoy you,” he says.

The room heats up with steam. I drop my panties onto the floor and walk inside the shower. I turn and watch as he walks in behind me. “It’s us,” he says. “Just us.”

I nod my head and lower my body into the warm water. I feel the rush from the heat as I exhale. I feel his warm, strong hands grab around the thick of my ass. I push back and feel his face behind me. His tongue comes, smooth and undeniably just right. My mouth falls open and a rushed moan comes out, high pitched and piercing.

I reach around and grab the back of his head. I push him in deeper. His moves up and down, devouring me. He groans loudly and sucks on each lip. I grind my hip back and let myself fall into him once more. He pushes away and pins me against the wall. My palms fall flat against the tile. “Fuck,” I groan.

“Shh,” he whispers. He puts his palm over my mouth. I bite down against his skin. He holds me harder, closer, and is not letting go. I feel him slip inside of me, as the water rushes down across our bodies. He pushes in as deep as he can go. His abs are firm against my back. I’m filled with an instant rush of pleasure.

“You’re mine,” he whispers. He slightly unclasps his hand from around my mouth. I hold onto his wrist and feel all of his weight press against me.

“Yes,” I tell him. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“You’re such a sweet girl.” He smiles, thrusting harder.

There are no more words. There’s only action. Hands against the tiles, gripping at the grout, slipping downwards, amongst the dripping water and wetness all around us. He forces his hand over mine. Our fingers interlock, as if they were made for each other.

Muffled moans and the hollow air from the glass puncture our eardrums. I am so afraid of living. That much is true and it’s what I hate to admit. I’m afraid. I’m scared of getting hurt, of feeling broken, or worst of all, empty. To fill is to be empty, and I never want to feel that way again.

His legs tie around me. He holds me up. He fucks me, over and over again, teeth lightly dragging across my neck and shoulder. “Michael,” I moan. I don’t know what else there is besides this. Right here, within the plumes of steam, within his impenetrable strength. I lie against the wall, crushed by my emotions.

“Cum,” I whisper.

As if it was on command, he tightens his grip. The water rushes down on us, never letting up. His moaning grows deeper, stronger, and more tempting. Then I feel it. The pulsating waves shoot into my body. He nearly collapses, yet holds onto gravity somehow. I clutch against his waist and feel all his power slam into me one last time.

He falls back and comes to his senses. He stands behind me, just staring. “I love you,” he says. Then, out of nowhere, he falls to the floor.