Page 61 of Dirty Play

But as I strip off my gear and step into the shower, the tension in my chest doesn’t fade. It lingers, sharp and unrelenting, and I know exactly why.

She wasn’t there.

And for some reason, that pisses me off more than anything else.

The team’s stretching room is quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional creak of a floorboard. I wouldn’t have even come in here if the guys hadn’t told me someone had left their stuff behind.

It’s almost unnerving how loud my footsteps sound when I walk in.

Well, well.

Livia is on the far side of the room, her back to me. She’s bent forward in some stretch, arms reaching, long hair spilling over her shoulder. She’s dressed in skintight leggings again, paired with a workout top that rides up just enough to show a sliver of her waist when she moves.

I stop dead in my tracks, just watching her.

Her movements are slow, but there’s a stiffness in the way she shifts positions, like her body’s fighting her. Like she’s sore.

And then I notice the way she winces when she moves.

A smug, satisfied heat pools in my chest. Pride. Possessiveness. I did that to her. I made her ache in ways she’s never felt before—only me.

Satisfaction doesn’t begin to cover what I’m feeling, seeing what my cock did to her.

She stands, her back still turned, and reaches her arms overhead in another stretch. That’s when I notice another tiny wince.

My lips twitch into a smirk, and I step further into the room, closing the door behind me.

She startles, spinning to face me, and for a second, her wide eyes lock with mine.

“Rowan,” she says, her voice breathless, like she doesn’t know whether to run or stay.

“I’ve been looking for you,” I say, leaning against the door.

The admission feels strange on my tongue, but I’m past the point of pretending I can think straight without her.

“I’m on my lunch break.” She crosses her arms over her chest, shifting her weight. “Thought I’d get some yoga in.”

“How are you holding up?” I push off the door, closing the distance between us with a few slow steps.

“Holding up?” Her brows knit together, but I don’t miss the way her eyes drop to my workout shorts. I bite back a smile.

Missing it already, hellcat?

I let my gaze drop, too, dragging it over her body, savoring every inch. When I meet her eyes again, I make sure she sees the glint of amusement in mine.

Her cheeks flush instantly, and she looks away, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’m okay,” she says a little too quickly. “Thank you for ordering breakfast,” she adds, trying to distract me from the fact that I just caught her staring at my dick. “You didn’t have to.”

I chuckle low in my throat, but the truth is, I want to make her stop being so damn uncomfortable around me. Flushed? Sure. Wet? Fuck, yes. Uncomfortable? Never.

I tilt my head, studying her. “I wanted to make sure you’re well-fed, not just well-fucked.”

Her lips part, and for a second, she looks like she doesn’t know whether to slap me or run.

“Careful,” she warns, that delicious defiance returning to her eyes.

“Can you feel me every time you move?” I take another step closer, her scent already reaching me. Fuck me, she smells so good.

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