Page 24 of Precious Legacy

“Make me,” I growl in her ear.

I grunt as she rears an elbow into my ribs, winding me enough to loosen my grip on her. She pushes out of my hold,spinning around, and her foot hits me on the side of my head at lightning speed, knocking my baseball cap to the floor. If this was a cartoon, I’d definitely have birds floating around my head given the way I stagger sideways, temporarily off balance.

“Looks like I did,” she pants with a satisfied smile.

I shake it off. I knew what to expect going into this—Alanis has five year’s worth of pent up anger that she needs to work off, and I have the sadistic urge to take the hits just so I can be close to her. It’s working, albeit slowly.

Sweat starts to bead across her temple, and I can feel the heat of my own efforts and desire ramping up. I circle Alanis like prey, hoping she’ll take the bait. She has a dirty trick up her sleeve, though. She peels off her top, exposing her glistening torso that makes me want to lick every inch and ravish her.

Dirty trick, indeed.

She wipes her face with her shirt, heaving a deep breath as she tosses it over the ring.

“So it’s like that?”

“I told you,” she smirks. “I don’t play fair.” There’s a hint of playfulness in her eyes, but she knows exactly what she’s doing, and tempting me is damn near working.

Fortunately, two can play at that game. After seeing the way she looked at me in the shower the other day, right after our quick fuck, I now know she wants me just as much as I want her. So, I do the only thing any red-blooded male would do in my situation.

I peel my own top off and dump it on the ground.

Though I’m not as winded as she is, just looking at her is definitely working up a sweat. Her eyes darken and a familiar flash of desire coats her cheeks.

I’m aware that a lot has changed in five years. In more ways than one, I’m not the same guy who left the city for California. I’ve had time to build muscle; to refine it the way I want andeven decorate my skin with tattoos. I see the subtle look of wary appreciation from Alanis as she licks her lips and tries to conceal every emotion going through her mind right now.

I don’t know if it’s subconscious or what, but it’s going to make this a lot harder than I thought. Pun intended.

“Are you going to continue drooling over me, or are we going to fight?” I tease.

She lets out a war cry; a beautiful symphony of unleashed rage and aggression. Alanis comes at me with all the strength and stealth of a tiger. She lunges and I prepare to duck the incoming fist, but at the last second, she twists her body and sends a kick straight into my stomach that sucks the air from my lungs. I double back, pride and shock zapping through my body like an electric storm as I keel over.

She uses that moment to deliver a knee to the same area.

“Fuck!” I grunt, managing to block her fist just in time by capturing her wrist and pinning her in a self-defense move, bringing her elbow behind her back. She lets out an angry whimper, but then she must realize I’ve given her enough room to slide out of the hold because she dips low and swings her leg, taking me out.

My body thuds against the springboard before she drops down to straddle me, her hands pinning my wrists on either side of my head. “You’re letting me win!” she growls.

“Am I?”

“Roman!” she barks. “Fight back!”

In one easy move, I pitch forward and roll. Now she’s beneath me, and with my weight, there’s no way she can get out of this position. But suddenly she doesn’t seem keen to escape. All the fight seems to have drained from her, replaced with harsh, lust-filled breaths.

I let the tension settle between us before I lean down to run my nose along hers. “What if I don’t want to fight?” I whisper.

She swallows thickly, her eyes dropping to my mouth. All I want to do is kiss her, but for once, I’m giving her complete control of the situation. This whole ‘fight’ was purely for selfish reasons. I might have had every intention of letting her win, but it was always going to end like this.

“Ro—”

A startled shrill cuts through her words, making us both jump at the sound. My phone rings out from my bag, and even though every fiber of me is telling me not to get up and take that call, I need to.

I drop my head in the crook of Alanis’ neck, relishing her scent and committing it to memory.

“Don’t,” she whispers her plea, but it’s too late.

I push up off the floor and head towards my bag. Pulling out my phone, I see Cillian’s name flash across the screen. With a backwards glance, I see Alanis stepping through the ropes of the ring. “I need to take this,” I explain with regret pinching my tone. She’ll probably take this as me choosing the syndicate over her again, but she fails to realize that those choices are one and the same. She’s part of this life, whether she wants to be or not.

Lani grabs her jacket from the bench, slipping her arms through the sleeves.

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