Page 31 of Heartbreaker

“What do you think about that, Rome?” the reporter asks, and I put my free hand to my chest.

“I’d be honored to have Lana kick my ass,” I say. There’s a chuckle from around the room, and the reporter smiles before looking at Lana. “Joking aside, I think having her here has been great. It’s given us some new competition; it’s a breath of fresh air. We’ve all been in this game for a long time and gotten used to the way things have always been. It’s nice to have someone new, someone with different ideas for what this sport could be.” Courtney gives me a big thumbs up from the back of the room, nodding enthusiastically. She’s aware of my goal to get back into good standing with Indy, and she probably thinks that’s my intention, though every word was the truth. Lana’s been great for the circuit.

And she’s been great for me, though that’s a whole other story.

Needing the distraction, I allow my hand to move, then graze it up and down the bare skin of her thigh. A shiver passes through her, but she doesn’t stop me.

She also doesn’t stop me when I tilt my hand inward as a reporter asks Tyler a question, and not when I slide it up, letting the tip of my pinky finger glide along the edge of her shorts. Her breath hitches, but her eyes stay locked straight ahead, her smile soft and serene as if she’s genuinely paying attention to my former friend.

A strange sense of jealousy surges through me, making me want to push her, claim her, steal her focus.

My hand shifts again, pressing that same pinky finger up a bit higher, against the center seam of her skin-tight shorts. Her legs tense beneath my hand, but that’s the only reaction I get.

That is, until I go up, then back down again. Then, her hand stops my second retreat, pressing my fingers against her. Her shorts are thin so that I can feel the faint tightening of her pussy beneath them.

Fuck. This woman is so fucking dangerous.

I flick my eyes to her and catch the tiniest hint of a smirk on her lips, but it fades when I shift my fingers, brushing harder against the center of her shorts.

I expect her to give in, to let me win this round. But as always, she surprises me, spreading her legs a bit further and using her hands to make me cup her, and I have to bite back a groan. A pleased smile spreads across her face, but her eyes stay straight ahead.

The woman is made of steel.

Before I can see just how far we can take this, Courtney thanks the reporters and dismisses us. My hand retreats from Lana’s lap reluctantly, and my chair screeches as I quickly push it back. Lana does the same, and we all stand and make our way to the greenroom. I watch Lana intently as she avoids me, moving through as if nothing happened, smiling and waving as she grabs her things. But right as she heads for the door, she looks over her shoulder, locks her eyes to mine, and lifts a single eyebrow.

My cock hardens, and I make my way out the door myself, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone. She’s already halfway down the hall, though I reach her in a few strides, taking note of a door to her right. Wrapping my hand around her wrist, I tug, pulling her toward it, grateful when it opens to reveal an empty room. Tugging her inside, I slam the door and lock it before pinning her against the wall. It’s some kind of storage closet, with toilet paper, soap, and paper towels lining shelves. All I can focus on is the woman right before me, her eyes sultry and heated, her tongue dipping out to wet her lips.

That’s it.

That’s all it takes for me to groan, give in, and kiss her. She gasps when I do, opening her mouth as my lips press to hers. I take full advantage of it, sliding my tongue inside, desperate to get another taste of her.

Just as fucking perfect as last time.

Her hands tighten on my shirt, and my hands move to her hips to hold her against me. Her body is warm and soft against mine, and I use my hips to press her into the door, to get her body as close as humanly possible to mine. I don’t want a single inch of space between Lana Carson and myself. It’s bad enough that there are already layers of clothes between us. I think she feels the same when her hands slide up my chest, looping around my neck and pulling me closer, kissing me deeper. Her teeth nip at my lower lip, battling to control this kiss, this moment, but I don’t allow it. Instead, my hands grip her hips, lifting and shifting my body until my thigh settles between her legs.

“Oh my god,” she sighs, her eyes drifting shut, and I groan when her hips shift, grinding against me as my lips move down her jaw. Her hands move to my shoulders, trying to find purchase, nails digging as she does it again, pressing against my painfully hard cock as she does.

“Are you done ignoring me?” I ask, my voice a raspy low, my breathing heavy over her neck as her hips work my thigh. Each shift makes my cock grow harder.

“I was never ignoring you,” she lies.

“Sure, you weren’t,” I laugh, angling her so she can better grind against me, to give her the friction she needs.

“I—” A gasp leaves her lips, her hips jerking, and a tiny, almost inaudible moan leaves her lips. I hear it, of course, completely in tune with her. “I was busy.”

“Are you going to stop being busy in a way where, if you see me when you enter a room, you turn around and leave?” I ask, nipping at her ear. She hesitates, and I don’t love that. “Lana.”

“I have things to do, Roman,” she says, and in her defense, she sounds disappointed and apologetic.

“I get that, but I want to be one of those things,” I say. She lets out a low chuckle, her hips shifting once more.

“I’m sure you do. But I’m not interested in being one of your things,” she says with an eyeroll. My brow furrows, and one hand moves, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at me.

“Let me make this terribly clear right now, Lana. There has not been a woman in my life in a good, long while. And if we’re talking beyond something temporary, a hell of a lot longer. I’m into you in a way I don’t think I’ve ever been into a woman. I want to spend time with you, and I don’t mean at practice or in hidden corners, stealing kisses. I want to spend time with you. I want to drink a beer and watch the sunset with you. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you.”

“Do I get to know you?” she asks, lifting a challenging eyebrow.

“Lana, I think I’d tell you anything you wanted to hear if you just asked it of me.” I don’t tell her that’s a privilege I haven’t given many. Somehow, I think she knows that already. A look crosses her face—something I don’t quite understand—conflicted and nervous—but I try to ease it all the same. “We can keep things quiet. I know you’re trying to build your reputation and gain respect. I’d never try to get in the way of that.”