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The cage door locks behind us with a metallic clank, and my stomach drops.

This is so stupid. Why did I agree to this? Oh, right, because I’m an idiot who can’t say no to the hellspawn in gray sweats, that’s why.

I move to the other side of the ring, putting some space between us, if that’s even possible in this glorified hamster cage.

“Come here,” he says, pointing to the spot right in front of him, his tone making my insides squirm, but not in a bad way.

“I’m already here,” I shoot back, folding my arms tightly across my chest.

Alessio closes the space between us until he’s practically towering over me. My breath catches, and I swear he hears it because his lips curl into that stupid, smug smile that makes me want to punch him and kiss him, but mostly punch him.

He tilts his head, eyes shining with amusement, and grabs my wrist. “Don’t touch me unless you’re prepared to lose a hand,” I joke, pulling free. To my horror, he laughs at me. Full-on chuckle. Asshole!

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” he says, tapping the tip of my nose, and I want to bite his finger off.

My skin is too hot, and my face burns. I swear my chest is going to explode if he doesn’t back off. But no, Alessio just stands there like he’s the king of the universe and I’m his favorite play toy.

“I’m serious,” I say, but it’s a lie.

“Are you?” He steps closer, and I instinctively step back. But every step I take, he matches.

I glance left, then right, searching for an escape, but there isn’t one. My back slams into the metal of the cage, and I curse under my breath. He plants his hands on either side of my head, caging me in. My pulse skyrockets, thudding loud enough that I’m sure he can hear it.

I shift my weight, pressing my palms flat against the fence behind me like it’s going to ground me somehow. But it doesn’t do a damn thing. His eyes flick to my mouth, and my breath stutters. I’m pinned, and every nerve in my body is on high alert.

He leans closer, the faint scent of sweat and whatever expensive cologne he wears invading my space, and damn it, why does he have to smell so good? My throat dries up, but I tilt my chin defiantly, refusing to let him see me crack, even though I’m already unraveling.

“Move.” I press my palms flat against his chest, trying to push him back, but he doesn’t budge. It’s like shovinga brick wall that smells way too good. My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt before I realize it, and the bastard chuckles under his breath.

Leaning down until our noses almost brush. “Make me,” he challenges, and my pulse skitters out of control.

I push harder, but he grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head. My stomach clenches and heat pools low in my belly, even though I’m mentally screaming at my body to get it together.

“You’re an ass,” I snap, glaring up at him. My voice sounds a hell of a lot weaker than I wish it did.

“Yeah? But you like it,” he smirks, pressing even closer until our bodies are flush. My knee twitches, tempted to aim for his crotch, but the gleam in his eye tells me he’s already two steps ahead.

Alessio’s knee nudges between my legs, spreading them apart, and my breath catches in my throat. “Are you done fighting me,Sirena?”

I swallow hard. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard cock. I mean hard place… and I do mean hard. My cheeks are blazing, and I probably look like a giant tomato right now.

“I’m not,” I shoot back, forcing my voice to sound steady, even though my brain is short-circuiting. “I justdidn’t come here to talk about your cute ass in gray sweatpants, so show me what you got, tough guy.”

The second it leaves my mouth, I regret every life choice that brought me to this moment.

Oh, Liv, you idiot.

His smirk deepens, eyes gleaming with way too much amusement. “So, you think I have a cute ass?”

Kill me now. My face somehow burns even hotter. It’s already a freaking sauna in here, and now my brain is bouncing between panicky and dirty thoughts like a malfunctioning browser with too many tabs open.

One of his hands leaves the cage, brushing a stray curl from my cheek. My breath stutters, traitorous lungs barely cooperating, as his thumb drags down the side of my face, lingering just under my jaw. My knees are about two seconds away from giving out entirely.

“You can’t decide if you want to punch or kiss me.”

“Who says I can’t do both?” I snap, trying to sound tough even as my body leans into his touch like some desperate, heat-starved lunatic.

My brain is screamingabort mission, but my body’s already waving a white flag and asking him what else he’s got.