Page 46 of Dirty Play

“I’m hanging up now,” I say, the words slipping out as I realize I’m not sure how to handle this right now. I’m shocked at myself, angry, and still so incredibly aroused. I’m a second away from asking him for round two. “Have a good night.”

“Livia,” he calls, but I don’t wait for him to finish. I end the call abruptly, the silence left in its wake deafening. I bury my face in my pillow, groaning in frustration.

What the hell did I just do?

I guided my orgasm with him. I can still hear his heavy breathing echoing in my mind, the primal growl he let out when he came with me. I can’t escape the memory of his mouth on mine at the club, his hands exploring my body. I groan again, muffling my face into the soft fabric as the heat returns between my legs.

How am I supposed to face him at the charity event on Sunday? What will I say? What can I say? This was not how I wanted my professional relationship with Rowan to unfold. God, what if someone finds out?

I push myself up, running a hand through my hair, my heart racing with confusion and regret. Part of me craves the thrill, the danger that comes with him, but the other part screams that I’ve crossed a line I can’t uncross.

All I can do is replay the moments in my mind, the words we exchanged, the pleasure we shared, and feel that familiar ache deep inside me. I let out a shaky breath, staring at the ceiling as I try to wrap my head around the chaos that is now my life. Rowan has opened a door I never wanted to touch, and now, I’m left standing at the threshold. And as much as I keep lying to myself, all I want to do is keep cross it.

Chapter fourteen

~ROWAN~

These charity balls are all the same—too much champagne, too many reporters, and not enough air in the goddamn room. I can already feel the tension building in my shoulders from the endless crowd of assholes pretending to care about endangered animals while keeping one eye on their competitors.

I’m nursing a whiskey near the bar when Damien walks up, his grin as smug as ever.

“So,” he finally says, dragging the word out, “you’re looking... different tonight.”

“Different how?”

“Less like you’re about to murder someone, more like you’ve been thoroughly relieved.”

“Damien,” I warn, but he just grins wider.

“You didn’t call that night after the club.” His voice drops an octave. “We wanna know what happened. Right, Ares?”

Ares walks up, his whiskey in hand, and glances between us. “What are we talking about?”

“Rowan’s mystery night,” Damien says, leaning closer to me. “Apparently, our man here had some fun after the club. But he’s being all secretive about it.”

“I’m not being secretive.” I shake my head. “I just don’t think this is the place. Too many ears.”

Ares raises an eyebrow. “Which means there’s something to talk about.”

Damien points at him. “Exactly. So, spill it. Who was it? Did you finally give in to one of the puck bunnies?”

“Not even close.” I let out a low laugh, shaking my head.

That catches their attention. Damien’s buzzing now, and even Ares looks interested.

“Whoa,” Damien says, his grin turning predatory. “Don’t tell me it was—”

I cut him off with a glare. “If you say her name, I will put you through that wall.” There are way too many people around us. God knows who’s gonna catch something they shouldn’t.

Damien whistles. “So, itwasher.”

“He drove her home after you left.” Ares leans back, his expression passive as he looks at Damien.

“Holy fuck,” Damien says, elbowing me. “You hooked up with her? She took you home?”

“No.” I shake my head and finish the rest of my drink.

“Then what happened?” Damien frowns.