Page 131 of Celestial Combat

For the way his hands roamed my back and waist, so close to my breasts, like he wanted to memorized the story inked into it.

For the way he bit my bottom lip like he hated needing me this much.

We made out for hours.

Only us.

Only that moment.

I stepped out of the private spa like I’d been spun through a dream and wrung out on the other side. The faint scent ofeucalyptus and herbs clung to my skin, thick in the silence between our footsteps.

My legs were still trembling – embarrassingly so. Not from exhaustion. Just from him.

ButGod,could Zane kiss.

I was throbbing between the legs with desire andneedlike I’d never experienced before. I was sure I would lose my mind if we didn’t get back to Zane’s loftsoon.

I knew he felt the same way by the hard-on I sat on for those two hours.

AndGod,was Zane disciplined.

I didn’t break him like I thought I would.

He was disciplined. Controlled. Untouchable in that maddening, steel-edged way that made me want to ruin him just to feel the real him.

We walked slowly down the dark, long corridor of private rooms and saunas.

Zane’s hand stayed firm around my waist. Hard. Possessive. Like he needed to feel I was real. Like he wanted me close.

He pulled me in tighter.

His hand dropped lower, grabbing my ass and squeezing hard – letting me know exactly what he was going to do to me once we get back to his place.

My nails dug into his bicep, my sincere eyes staring right into his own – letting him know I was dying to open my legs for him.

That single look said more than words could.

And I felt every bit of it.

Letting go of each other,we stepped back into the main gym. The air shifted – cooler, louder, real. The space opened up in front of us. High ceilings. Rows of black and chrome equipment.

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for hours!”

Francesca’s voice carried like a bullet. I turned to see her striding across the second-floor balcony, one hand gripping the railing, the other holding her phone. Platinum blonde hair. Blood-red lips and nails. Black eyes sharp as glass.

Her gaze swept over me, then landed on Zane, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why are you both wet?”

My curly hair was damp at the edges. Zane’s, too, from my hands.

He didn’t miss a beat. “Water recovery training.”

“I didn’t have my phone. You know how it is,” I added sincerely. “No distractions during workouts.”

Francesca looked between us slowly. “Working out,” she murmured. A little tilt of her head. “Sure.” She didn’t press, but her mouth curled slightly – like she already knew everything. “Natalia bailed on the Family party tonight.”

“Why?”

“She’s still not speaking to her dad.”

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