Jen

He doesn't say a word as he opens the shower door and steps into the steam-filled space. Cold air rushes in, swirls around her body and sends a shiver down her spine, goosebumps freckle her skin.

His hand is warm as it rests on her hip. His other snakes around her body, palm pressed to her skin as it slides inch by inch across the flat of her stomach. He pulls her back against his chest and the dancing cold air that surrounded her is replaced by him: his warmth, his scent, his breath against her ear.

She covers the hand on her stomach with her own, lacing her fingers through his. She closes her eyes to savour this feeling, this closeness, this calm that she so desperately needed.

His hand leaves her hip, trails up and moves her soaked hair to one side. His lips pepper feather-light kisses along her shoulder, up her neck and behind her ear. She tilts her head to the side so that he can reach that spot she likes so much. When she feels the curve of his smug smirk against her skin she considers kicking him out of her shower, but the gentle nip of teeth exactly where she wants it sends pleasure pulsing through her entire body and pushes that idea aside.

She turns in his arms, smooths her hand up his chest and curves her palm around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Their mouths meet in a fervent, open-mouthed kiss. It's hungry, urgent; teeth and tongue and heat.

His hands roam her body, hot and wet under the stream of steaming water as it slips against his. He pushes her back against the cold, tiled wall and her back arches away from the sudden temperature change, pushing her chest into his. She gasps into his mouth but he silences her with his tongue; rough against hers.

One hand slides down her body, grips at the back of her thigh in silent request. She lifts her leg, wraps it around his waist and he continues his journey; fingers traipsing across her skin toward ass.

He grabs her, fingertips pressing into flesh as he pulls her hips and grinds against her. Her moan cuts through the white noise of moving water and fuels his own guttural sounds as he repeats the motion again and again.

The shrill tri-tone of her phone bursts their bubble; has heart sinking to her stomach as she peels her lips from his.

"Ignore it," he pleas, his voice a lust-filled rasp against her jaw.

She unwraps herself from him, sinks lower as she places both feet firmly on the shower floor.

"I can't." She presses her lips to his chest. "I'm sorry."

The towel she wraps around her body does nothing to ease the chill of air against her skin when she steps out of the shower.

"Right."

She answers the call; a string of yeah, okay, uh-huh's follow. But when he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, her eyes are already on him and her lip is caught between her teeth.

"You know what?" she says to whomever it is on the other end of the line. "I've actually hit a bit of traffic. Can you refer this to Detective Esposito and inform him that I will meet him there as soon as I can?"

He's not sure what changed her mind but after she mumbles a rushed thanks and discards the phone on the vanity, he doesn't care.