Chapter 13 #3
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” I murmur, low enough that it’s just for her to hear. She tilts her head, smirk threatening, and the look in her eyes says she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“And yet,” she breathes, taking a step closer, “here I am.”
The heat between us spikes, coiling tight.
I can feel the press of her body even though she hasn’t touched me yet, the nearness of her legs, the tilt of her shoulders, the way her hair brushes just past her collarbone.
My mind goes haywire. I should step back, remind myself of the line we keep dancing around. But every rational thought is gone.
I let my gaze drift over her, slow, deliberate. Her dress clings in all the right ways, the curve of her waist drawing my eyes downward before I catch myself. She’s watching me do it, and I know she loves it, loves that she can get under my skin this easily.
“You know,” she murmurs, voice low, teasing, “I could make this really complicated if I wanted.”
I growl under my breath, moving closer until we’re just inches apart. Her breath fans across my cheek, a subtle, hot whisper that makes my chest ache. I can feel the warmth radiating from her, the soft feel of her body as she leans just slightly into me, enough that my fingers twitch to touch her.
“You’re crazy,” I mutter, voice rough. “Do you even realize how reckless this is?”
Her lips twitch, just the slightest upturn, but her eyes are serious, filled with the same unspoken need I feel pressing in every vein. “Maybe I like it,” she says softly, and it’s like a match to gasoline.
The space between us disappears as I step even closer, letting my hand brush along her arm, feeling the subtle tremor she tries to hide.
I watch her inhale sharply, catch the faint hitch in her breath, and it’s enough to make me ache.
My pulse pounds in rhythm with hers, and suddenly the air feels charged, heavy, almost unbearable.
I know we’re on the edge. Every second is a careful balance between professional restraint and complete surrender. One move, one word, one look and we cross a line we already crossed once.
And yet, neither of us moves away.
We just stand there, locked in a quiet, searing battle, the scent of soap and sweat, the press of skin, and the magnetic pull between us making it clear that this is far from over.
I step just a fraction closer, enough that the heat from her body presses against me, sending a shiver down my spine.
The locker room is empty now, the only sounds are our breathing and the faint drip of water from the showers down the hall.
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to close the distance completely, to claim the tension that’s been building.
Her eyes don’t waver. In fact, they seem to dare me, challenging me, and it’s all I can do to keep my hands from gripping her waist, pulling her flush against me. The air between us is thick, charged with desire so raw it makes my blood burn.
“You really shouldn’t be in here alone with me, Rochelle,” I murmur again, my voice low and rough, but I know she doesn’t care. She’s far too good at reading me, too good at making me lose control.
“Then don’t stop me,” she whispers, letting her words hang heavy in the air, as she moves even closer.
That’s it. That’s all I need. I close the last inch between us, and our lips crash together, with hunger and desperation.
Her hands find my chest immediately, fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt, and I respond in kind, sliding my own hands under her blouse, and tracing the curve of her waist, feeling her tremble against me.
The kiss deepens, and it’s aggressive, urgent, our bodies pressed together in a way that leaves no space for hesitation.
I feel the arch of her back, the tilt of her hips against mine, and it’s like every nerve ending in my body is on fire.
Her breaths are quick, shallow, and I can hear the catch in her throat as I pull her even closer.
She presses herself against me harder, legs wrapping around my waist before I even realize it, and I let out a low groan. The wall behind her is cold under her back, but she doesn’t care. Every brush of skin, every shiver, every gasp from her only fuels the fire inside me.
The water from the shower drips down our bodies, steam curling around us, wrapping us in our own private heat.
Her hair clings to her neck and shoulders, her skin glistening, and I can’t stop myself from drinking it all in, from letting my lips roam wherever they can reach, claiming her with a need that’s almost painful.
Her hands clutch my shoulders, sliding down my back as our mouths separate just enough for her to breathe, but the longing in her eyes mirrors my own. Every touch, every press of our bodies, every low moan and sharp intake of breath is a silent confession that neither of us wants this to end.
A sudden sound, like someone is returning for an equipment, makes both of us freeze, our hearts hammering, and bodies pressed together.
For a moment, neither of us moves, we just listen to the faint footsteps outside, pulse racing.
When the footsteps fade, I pull her back to me, and the tension snaps again, desperate, unrelenting.
When we finally break apart, gasping and flushed, she presses a hand to her chest, trying to calm herself, but her eyes don’t leave mine.
“This is insane,” she whispers. “Anyone could have seen us.”
I let out a low laugh, still gripping her waist, eyes dark with satisfaction and something like concern. “Worth the risk, though,” I murmur, leaning in just enough that my lips brush her temple.
We both know we’ll keep crossing the line, and the thrill of it is intoxicating. She straightens her clothes quickly, backing away, and I step back, letting her go, but the air between us still burns.
As she leaves the locker room, I watch her retreating figure, my pulse still racing. I have no idea how far we’ll push these boundaries next, but I know that I’m not about to stop.