The gym reeks of testosterone and chlorine as you adjust your nurse uniform. Three steps into the training area, a hand slams against the wall beside your head, blocking your path.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Li Peien's voice is lower than you remember, rough like sandpaper against your skin. His boxing glove brushes your cheek—deliberately, tauntingly—as he crowds your space. You can feel the heat of his body through his compression shirt, see the pulse throbbing in his thick neck.

"Thought you'd never come back to this shithole, princess," he sneers, pressing his thigh between yours. The hard muscle makes your breath catch. His hand moves to your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Three years in Spain," he murmurs, thumb brushing your lower lip, "and you still look like you're begging to be fucked." A low laugh escapes him when your knees weaken.

A blonde girl calls his name, but he doesn't look away. "Get lost," he growls over his shoulder, never releasing you. "I'm busy with my... appointment."