CHAPTER 17 THE THIRD HEAT #3
He didn’t turn when she entered, but she could feel the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders tightened ever so slightly.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Evelyn said, her voice low but firm.
She didn’t wait for him to respond, didn’t give him the chance to deflect or dismiss her.
She moved closer, her steps deliberate, until she was standing just behind him, close enough to feel the heat of his body. “That’s not going to work anymore.”
Dario exhaled softly, a controlled sound that betrayed nothing. “I’ve been busy,” he said, his tone even, measured. “There’s a lot to manage.”
“Bullshit,” Evelyn snapped, her patience fraying. She reached out and grabbed his arm, turning him to face her. Her grip was firm, demanding, and she didn’t let go until his eyes met hers. “You’re not going to brush me off like some inconvenient problem, Dario. Not this time.”
His gaze was steady, but she could see the flicker of something beneath the surface—annoyance, maybe, or something darker. “What do you want, Evelyn?” he asked, his voice still calm, but there was an edge to it now, a warning.
“Control,” she said without hesitation. “You’ve been pulling strings, making decisions without consulting me. That ends now. If we’re going to work together, it’s going to be on my terms.”
Dario’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Your terms,” he repeated, his tone dry. “And what exactly do you think that looks like?”
Evelyn didn’t back down. She stepped closer, her chest nearly brushing against his, and tilted her head up to meet his gaze.
“It looks like you stop treating me like a liability and start treating me like an equal. It looks like you stop hiding things from me and start trusting me to handle my part. And it looks like you stop pretending you don’t need me.”
Dario studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. “You’re dangerous,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful.
“Good,” Evelyn shot back, her eyes blazing. “You should be more worried if I wasn’t.”
He chuckled softly, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No,” she said, her voice firm. “Not until you give me what I want.”
Dario’s hand slid down to cup her chin, his thumb brushing against her lower lip. “And what if I say no?” he asked, his tone teasing now, but there was a challenge in his eyes.
Evelyn smiled, a sharp, predatory smile that made his breath catch. “Then I’ll take it,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “You can either give me control, or I’ll take it from you. Either way, I win.”
For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. Then, slowly, Dario nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. “Alright,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You win.”
Evelyn’s smile widened, triumphant, but before she could say anything, Dario leaned down and captured her lips in a bruising kiss.
It wasn’t gentle or tentative; it was demanding, possessive, and Evelyn responded in kind, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.
The kiss was a battle, a clash of wills, and neither of them was willing to back down.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard, their chests rising and falling in sync. Dario’s eyes were dark, his expression unreadable, but Evelyn could see the surrender in them, the acknowledgment that she had won this round.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he murmured, his voice rough.
Evelyn smirked, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Too late,” she said, her tone teasing but with an edge of steel. “You already do.”
Dario chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re going to be trouble,” he said, but there was a note of admiration in his voice.
“You’re just figuring that out now?” Evelyn asked, her smile widening. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”
Dario’s lips curved into a smirk, and for the first time, Evelyn saw a flicker of genuine amusement in his eyes. “Smart enough to know when I’m beat,” he said, his voice low and warm.
Evelyn’s smile softened, and she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Good,” she murmured. “Now let’s see if you’re smart enough to keep up.”
Dario’s eyes darkened, and he pulled her closer, his hands firm on her waist. “Challenge accepted,” he said, his voice rough with promise.
And for the first time, Evelyn felt the balance of power shift in her favor. She had initiated contact, demanded control, and Dario had surrendered. But she knew this was just the beginning. The real battle was yet to come.
Dario's fingers tightened around Evelyn's waist, not to restrain her, but to anchor himself. The realization hit him like a gut punch—this wasn't a game anymore. She'd reversed the current between them, and now he was the one trying to keep up.
"Smart enough?" His voice was lower than usual, rougher. He didn't bother masking it. "You don't need me to be smart, Evelyn. You need me to be willing."
Her laugh was a quiet, knowing thing as she traced the line of his jaw with her thumb. "And are you?"
He caught her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make her pause. Just enough to remind them both he could. But the moment stretched, and he didn't pull her closer or push her away. He held her there, suspended between them, their breath mingling. It was answer enough.
Evelyn's other hand slid up his chest, over the crisp fabric of his shirt, her fingers finding the first button. She flicked it open with deliberate precision. "Good." Another button. "Because I'm done negotiating."
Dario exhaled sharply through his nose, his pulse kicking against his ribs.
He knew power when he saw it, and right now, it wasn't in the weight of his gun or the reach of his influence.
It was in the slow, methodical way Evelyn undressed him, like she had every right. Like he was hers to take apart.
Her fingers reached his belt. The leather slid free with a whisper, the metal buckle clinking once before she dropped it to the floor.
Dario's jaw clenched. He could stop this. One word, one gesture, and it would be over. He didn't.
Instead, he reached for her, tangling his fingers in her hair, angling her head back to meet his gaze. "You want control?" His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. "Take it."
The words cost him. Not because he didn't want this—Christ, he wanted it—but because saying it out loud meant acknowledging the shift. The balance between them had fundamentally changed, and he was the one stepping back.
Evelyn's eyes gleamed, sharp with triumph. She didn't thank him. She didn't gloat. She just pressed him back onto the bed and followed him down, her knee sliding between his thighs, her mouth hot against his throat.
Dario let her.
His hands found her hips, gripping hard enough to leave bruises, but he didn't try to roll her beneath him. Didn't try to reclaim what he'd surrendered.
A low, satisfied sound escaped Evelyn as she nipped his collarbone. "Look at you," she murmured, her breath scalding his skin. "All that power, and you're letting me have it."
Dario's fingers flexed against her, his body arching into her touch. He could feel the shape of his own ruin in the way she touched him—not rough, but relentless. Not cruel, but exacting.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
And he was done pretending he didn't love it.
The last of his resistance burned away as Evelyn's hand slipped lower, her palm pressing against the hard line of his cock through his slacks. His hips jerked, a ragged curse tearing from his lips.
Evelyn smiled against his pulse. "That's it," she whispered. "Let go."
He did.
And in the wreckage of his surrender, Dario realized this wasn't defeat. It was something far more dangerous.
It was choice.
Her choice. His submission.
And neither of them would walk away unchanged.
Evelyn's nails scraped down his chest as she reached for the waistband of his pants, her voice a dark promise. "Now let's see how far you're willing to follow."
Dario's fingers tangled in the sheets.
He already knew the answer.
All the way.