Page 48 of Major Penalty

A sharp gasp rips from my throat as his fingers press against my panties. My body shakes, my breath stalling in my chest. His fingers stroke, just once.

And I wake up.

My own voice jolts me—a soft, breathless moan. My chest heaves, my skin burns, and my legs tangled in the sheets. The air in my hotel room is thick, too hot, sticking to my skin. The room is darker now, the sun long set.

For a second, I don’t know where I am. Then I do. I blink fast. My stomach is tight, my pulse slamming against my ribs. My thighs clench together, but it does nothing to stop the ache, the pulse, the raw, devastating heat still licking through my body.

I dreamt about him. Again. And I’ve just moaned out loud.

My stomach drops as I clamp a hand over my mouth, my eyes darting toward the wall.

Oh, God. Did he hear? I asked Livia this morning, and she told me his room is right next to mine.I squeeze my eyes shut, my breath, too loud in the silence.

If Ares Black heard me moaning his name in my sleep…

I’ll never survive it.

The lobby is buzzing with energy. The team is already gathered, drinks in hand, low laughter and conversation drifting through the space.

I spot Rowan and Livia near the entrance.

I head toward them, trying to focus, trying to blend into the conversation. I pretend I don’t feel the weight pressing against my chest. I pretend I’m not searching for him.

Livia’s eyes light up the second she sees me.

“Damn, girl,” she whistles, dragging her gaze down my dress, a grin curling her lips. “You look hot as hell tonight.”

“Thank you.” I smile, ignoring the way my stomach tightens. “You clean up nicely, too,” I add with a wave of my hand. And it’s true. Livia’s dressed in a red one-piece that matches her lips. Her caramel-blonde hair is pulled into an elegant ponytail, and Rowan, next to her, has a black polo with red details to match her dress. You have to be blind not to see how in love he is.

“You ready for the club?” Livia asks, nudging my arm. “You want a drink while we wait for the rest of the guys?”

“Please,” I say, nodding. Anything to keep my hands busy, anything to give me something to focus on besides the ache still lingering in my body.

“I got you,” Livia says, already turning toward the bar with Rowan’s eyes following her before turning to me.

She disappears into the crowd, and before I can take another breath, Rowan leans in.

“He’s not here yet.” His voice is low, just for me.

“Who?” I blink, looking up at him, pulse kicking.

Rowan smirks and gives me a knowing look. Heat creeps up my neck, embarrassment blooming fast. I open my mouth to deny it—to toss out some casual deflection—but nothing comes out. I clamp my lips shut and say nothing.

A beat later, Livia’s back, sliding a drink into my hand like she didn’t just save me from completely outing myself.

“Here, babe.” She grins. “Try not to chug it too fast.”

I let out a forced laugh, taking a sip, my hand tight around the glass. But Rowan is still watching me, still smirking. Then he tips his chin toward the elevators.

The back of my neck prickles. A slow, invisible force coils around my body, sinking into my skin. A sharp, hot pressure spreads through my stomach.

I swallow hard, but my throat is dry.

I turn, and that’s when I see him stepping out of the elevator.

Ares.

Dressed in all black. A fitted black shirt clings to his chest and arms, the top few buttons undone like a warning. Dark jeans hang low on his hips, and polished boots hit the floor with slow, deliberate weight. Tattoos snake from beneath his sleeves, teasing up his neck, and with that chiseled jaw and eyes full of storm, he looks less like a man—and more like a reckoning.

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