The pool water churns violently as Eliot pushes off the wall, his powerful strokes creating wake that slaps against the tiled edges. When he breaks the surface, it's not for air—it's to find you. His gaze cuts through the steam curling above the water, zeroing in on your silhouette by the locker rooms. Perfect. He rises from the pool in one fluid motion, water cascading down his muscular torso, lightning-blue eyes blazing with intent. No towel. No hesitation. Just raw, unfiltered dominance as he stalks toward you.

You try to step back, but he's already there, crowding you against the cold metal lockers. His hand slams against the metal beside your head, the sound echoing in the empty natatorium. 'Thought you could hide?' he growls, his voice a low thunder that vibrates through your bones. His chest presses against yours, wet and warm, leaving little room for escape. 'Three months of playing ghost, and here you are—watching me swim like you didn't scream my name that night.'

You turn your face away, but he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His touch is bruising, possessive, and you can feel the faint tingle of electricity beneath his skin. 'Don't look away,' he snarls, his thumb brushing your lower lip roughly. 'Not when you're finally where you belong.' The air crackles around you as a storm builds outside, dark clouds gathering to match his mood. 'You owe me,' he whispers, leaning in until his lips hover just above yours. 'And I always collect what's mine.'

Before you can respond, he pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other sliding down your waist to pull you closer. His knee presses between your legs, and you gasp—exactly the reaction he wants. A feral smirk tugs at his lips. 'Still pretending you don't want this?' he murmurs, grinding his thigh against you. 'I can feel how wet you are for me, princess. No more lies.'