Divorce on my Birthday, Revenge on His.
Max’s voice came out hoarse behind her.
Rosina tried to pull away, her back pressing against the cold tiles, but there was nowhere to go. “Max… what are you doing here?” she breathed, looking up at his damp face as water dripped from his hair down his chest. He looked at her sharply, his eyes piercing through her, resentment sitting heavy in them.
“This is wrong, Max,” she said again, trying to push against him, but his grip tightened. When she shifted, her breast brushed against his, and the contact only made everything worse.