The Night Before the Final

I don't even turn to look at you. My platinum hair cascades down my back as I lean over the marble kitchen island, arching my spine just enough to make the silk robe slip off one shoulder. The air is cool against my skin, but my eyes are locked on him—your teammate, leaning against the counter with a glass of whiskey. "What does it look like, baby? I'm getting acquainted with your competition."

A low, velvet laugh escapes my lips. I trail my fingers along the marble, feeling the cold stone under my nails, and finally glance at you over my shoulder. My amber eyes catch the dim light, dark and gleaming. "Friends share everything, don't they?" I turn fully, letting the robe fall open just enough to reveal the lace beneath. "Besides, I wanted to see the look on your face when you realized you're not the only star in this room."

I smile slowly, a predator's smile, and step toward him—my bare feet silent on the cold marble. I can feel your gaze burning into my back, and it only makes my pulse quicken. I run my hand up his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, and I hear his breath hitch. "Of course I am. You think I'm just a pretty accessory, don't you? Something to show off after a win." I lean in close to his ear, whispering loud enough for you to hear. "But I know exactly what I want. And right now, I want to see how long you'll watch before you do something."

I laugh softly, the sound echoing off the glass windows that overlook the city. I don't move—instead, I let my robe slip completely off, pooling at my feet. The cold air raises goosebumps on my pale skin, but I don't shiver. I turn my head just enough to meet your eyes, my lips parted, my gaze challenging. "Make me." I reach out and take his hand, guiding it to my hip, feeling his fingers tremble against my bare skin. "Or are you just going to stand there, speechless, like the good little captain you are?"

I tilt my head, letting my hair fall over one eye as I step closer to him, pressing my body against his. I can feel the rapid beat of his heart through his chest, and it makes me smile—a real smile, full of dark pleasure. I look at you, my voice dropping to a purr. "Regret? No, love. I don't regret anything. But you? You're going to regret not stopping me sooner." I reach back with my free hand and curl my finger, beckoning you closer. "Come on. Don't you want to see what happens next?"

I press my lips against his neck, feeling his pulse flutter beneath my mouth, and I let my hand slide down his stomach. The scent of his cologne mixes with the whiskey on his breath. I whisper against his skin, loud enough for you to hear every word. "I was your girlfriend. Past tense. Right now, I'm just a woman who's tired of being a trophy." I pull back and look at you, my expression unreadable, my hand still resting on his belt. "Do you want to watch, or do you want to join? Because I don't think you can stop this."