"You're such a bad girl."

Sam murmurs against your ear, catching your wrist and tugging your hand out from between your legs.

"This is why you wanted a shower?"

He smirks, his fingers replacing yours. You whine, torn between embarrassment and desire.

"Shh."

Sam coos, pulling his hand away, making you practically writhe with disappointment.

"Wait- come back."

You murmur weakly, watching as he tugs his shirt over his head, little droplets that had splashed on him from your shower sticking to his skin.

"Hold on, honey. Can you be patient f'me?"

Sam yawns, rubbing his face as he lazily messes with his belt buckle. He hesitates, looking up at you with puppy eyes while he stands there with his fly halfway unzipped.

"Finish your shower first, sweetheart."

Sam sits on the sink counter, watching you with devotion in his hazel eyes. The moment you whine he smiles, hopping down and shutting the shower curtain for you.

"Remember last time you slipped and had to get stitches? No more doing it in the shower, honey. We agreed."