Page 8

Chapter eight

~ROWAN~

The water scalds my skin, steam filling the bathroom until it’s heavy enough to choke on. Not that I care. I brace my hands against the cool tile, leaning forward as the spray pounds against the back of my neck. My body’s wrecked from practice, my muscles aching in that way I live for.

But none of it burns as hot as her .

Livia.

Her name echoes in my skull relentlessly. I should hate how she’s under my skin, but instead, I’m gripping onto the memory of her like it owes me something. The way she looked at me today, eyes wide, lips parted, her chest rising and falling like she couldn’t fucking breathe with me that close. Like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap me or beg me to come closer.

I chuckle under my breath. I hadn’t even touched her, but I felt her. I felt what she’s trying to hide from me and herself. She was trapped, caged between me and that desk, but she didn’t push me away. She couldn’t.

She looked up at me like that...like she was about to break. Like she wanted me to break her, to make her crack and give in.

My hands curl into fists against the tiles as the thought sinks in. My cock stirs, heavy and thick, the ache spreading through me like wildfire.

Fuck.

I press my forehead to the wall, but it doesn’t help. All I can see is her staring up at me. Her blue eyes are wide and shining, her lips trembling like they’d part just enough for me to slide inside her hot mouth.

Shit.

I reach down, my hand wrapping around myself, the heat of my palm nowhere near enough to match the fire roaring inside me. My dick is hard, almost painful. This is what she does to me, and she’s not even here.

I begin to stroke slowly, dragging my hand up and down my cock. My jaw clenches as images of her flood my mind. Images of her on her knees in front of me, her caramel-blonde hair wrapped around my fist as I guide her head back and forth, testing how much of me she can swallow.

I want her with her back against the wall, looking up at me, waiting for me to decide how far I’m going to take it.

The scalding water’s still pouring down, but I barely feel it. My grip tightens, my hips rocking into my fist. I can almost hear her voice again, trembling but defiant. “Then colleagues,” she’d said like she had no idea what I wanted to do to her.

I imagine her beneath me, her body soft and pliant as she finally lets herself stop pretending she doesn’t want this. I see her biting her lip, trying to stifle the sounds I’d drag out of her. She’s fighting her mind, her body, but I’ll win.

I always win.

I’ll have her exactly where I want her.

A groan rips from my throat as my strokes quicken, the pressure building. I picture her legs trembling, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as I pull her apart piece by piece. Her digging into my shoulders, her head tilting back, exposing her neck to me.

My hand moves faster, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip to hold back the growl clawing its way out of my chest.

“Fuck, Livia,” I mutter, her name spilling out before I can stop it.

The climax hits me like a goddamn freight train, my body shuddering as I come hard, hot cum shooting out of my cock. Images of her on her knees with her mouth open as I come all over her flood my mind, the tension snapping and leaving me gasping for air.

I finally lean against the wall as reality crashes back in.

She’s not ready for what I want to give her—not yet.

But she will be.

The gym is where I drown the noise, sweat out the bullshit, and remind myself what real control feels like. But today, even with the weights stacked heavy and the music pounding through the speakers, it’s not enough to erase her.

She’s been stuck in my head, playing on a loop. I know what I should do.

I push through another set of leg presses, my thighs screaming in protest, but it’s not enough to shake the image.

Her.

I load another plate onto the leg press, the clang of steel echoing in the space around me. I keep telling myself this is about the plan. About getting her to snap, to give in. One slip, and she’s off my back for good. That’s all I need.

But even as I tell myself that, the lie feels heavy, settling in my gut like the weights I’m stacking. I grip the edge of the machine, bracing myself as I add another plate. I like to think my plan, my determination to get her out of my way and out of my team, is the only reason she’s stuck in my head. But it’s not.

And as if my thoughts have summoned her, I see her hair swaying in my peripheral vision as I take my seat on the leg press.

“Rowan.” Her voice cuts through the air, sharp and sure.

I lift the weights slowly, unlocking and locking the sled before lowering it. I don’t turn around.

“Yes?” My tone is low, dismissive.

“Can we talk about that interview, please?” she says, stepping closer. “I need to give the producer a time and date.”

I snort, finally looking over my shoulder.

She’s standing there in leggings and a fitted top, clipboard gone but that same determined glint in her eyes. My eyes travel down her long legs, then back up, heat already spreading through me. Her ponytail swings when she tilts her head, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She’s here to work, not play. Shame. I’m in the mood for the latter.

“You can keep dodging me, but I’m not going anywhere,” she says firmly.

“Then suit yourself.” I chuckle, turning back to the machine.

Her steps click closer, the sound almost drowned out by the pounding bass of the gym’s speakers. Almost.

“You’re avoiding me,” she says.

“And you’re annoying me,” I say, getting off the press machine to up the weight. I’d love to play with her, but even Damien and Ares know not to interrupt me while I’m working out.

I adjust the weights, adding another thirty-five to each side. It’s not the smart move, not with how I’m feeling, but I need the edge, the burn, to shut her out.

I sit back down and grip the handles on each side of my seat. But then she takes one more step, and suddenly, she’s too close.

“You’re going to do this interview,” she says, her voice cool but firm. “And you’re going to do it my way.”

“And if I don’t?” I glance up at her, wiping sweat from my brow.

“Then I’ll buzz around you until you agree.”

“Enjoy the view then.” My mouth twitches, the corner pulling into a smirk.

I settle back against the machine and unlock the weight, my legs coiling as I power through the first press. Her eyes narrow, her arms folding across her chest.

“Fine.” She shifts on her feet like she’s weighing her next move. When it comes, it’s not what I expect.

I lower the sled, ready to push it back up when Livia steps onto the platform.

The platform I’m pressing.

My eyes follow her movement, her round ass right in front of my face as she climbs up the sled. I feel her weight on my legs, and I strain them to keep her from dropping along with the rest of the 300 pounds I’m pressing. I don’t feel like breaking a knee today.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, keeping my tone even though my pulse kicks up a notch.

“You’re not listening to me, so now I’m in your way.” She plants her feet firmly on either side of the sled, her body bent and her hands gripping the frame. “Unless this is too heavy for you?” Her voice is steady, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes as I grip the bars again.

I laugh, a low, rumbling sound that rolls out of my chest.

You think this is too heavy for me, little hellcat?

Cute.

With a deliberate exhale, I push. The weights shift smoothly, lifting her along with them.

Her balance wavers, her knuckles whitening as she grips the frame tighter.

“Enjoy the ride,” I grunt, lowering her back down before lifting her again.

Her jaw tightens, her chest rising with a sharp inhale. I lift again, slower this time, watching the way her body adjusts, how she braces herself, how her breath catches just enough to give her away.

I’ve impressed my hellcat. The thought shouldn’t be as satisfying as it is.

At the top of the press, I straighten my legs and lock the sled in place, leaving her suspended. Then I stand, rolling my shoulders as I approach her.

She’s perched awkwardly, her legs dangling slightly, her eyes blazing.

“Comfortable?” I ask, my tone dripping with mock concern.

“Rowan, bring me down,” she snaps, though her voice isn’t as steady as before.

I cock my head, studying her. She’s trying so hard to hold her ground, to stay in control, but the flush creeping up her neck betrays her.

“You climbed up there. Why don’t you get yourself down?”

Her glare sharpens. She shifts, trying to adjust her footing, but she miscalculates. Her body tilts, and for one fleeting second, I see the panic flash across her face as she begins to fall.

I move before I can think.

My hands grip her waist firmly, steadying her as I bring her down. Her body presses against me, her chest flush with mine, her breath hot against my neck.

She freezes, and so do I.

Her hands rest lightly on my arms, her fingers curling against my skin as her weight settles.

I can feel the rapid beat of her heart, the subtle shift of her hips against me.

Fuck.

I can’t resist. I pull her closer, letting her feel my growing erection through my workout shorts.

Livia sucks in a sharp breath at the contact, her eyes flicking down before back up to mine, but she doesn’t push me away.

Good.

“Do you feel that?” My voice is low as I lean in, my mouth close to her ear.

Her breath hitches, her fingers tightening. For a second, she leans into me, her eyes fluttering closed as her body softens.

Then, just as quickly, she pulls back, shoving against my chest with enough force to put space between us.

I let her go, stepping back with a smirk.

Her glare could cut steel, but she doesn’t say anything. Her chest rises and falls, her lips slightly parted and her cheeks flushed.

“Send me the details for the interview,” I say, my tone casual, as if the last thirty seconds didn’t happen.

She blinks, clearly caught off-guard. Her eyebrows shoot up, and I catch the flicker of confusion crossing her face. I push off the machine, grabbing my towel off the bench as her gaze follows me.

“You…” she falters, trying to piece together whatever response she thinks will save her pride.

“Me?” I grin, shameless, as I meet her eyes again.

She doesn’t answer, and I wink at her, enjoying the rare sight of her at a loss for words. Without waiting for a reply, I turn and stride across the gym, heading for the fridge that holds the waters and energy drinks.

Sliding open the door, the cool blast hits my face, but it’s not enough to smother the fire in my veins. I grab a bottle, twisting the cap off. This is the sacrifice I need to make. One interview, a little cooperation, and she’ll lower her guard. I just have to keep playing the long game.

She doesn’t see it yet, but I’m chipping away at her walls. Every little crack, every flicker of doubt, is a win. And by the time she realizes it, it’ll be too late.

I glance over my shoulder just once to see the space left in her wake. I hear the gym doors shut behind her, and my lips stretch into a smile.

She’s angry, but more than that. She’s shaken. I grin to myself as I take a slow sip from the bottle.

Game fucking on.