Seth

I check the clock again. She’s late. Again. I leave the gym, going after Brooke for our workout. I reach the room, and just as I expected, the blonde is on the floor playing with the new puppy.

My girlfriend brought home the German Shepherd mix a few days ago. After taking her to the vet, she found out that, contrary to what she thought, the puppy was female. And now Brooke spends all her time chasing after the dog, who’s a little hurricane. She’s already destroyed one of my sneakers, peed on the entryway rug, chewed up one of Hades’ documents that Kyle accidentally left on the living room table, and gnawed on one of the arms of Raffi’s sunglasses.

"How’s the homewrecker doing?" I ask by way of greeting.

"Don’t call Persephone that." She covers the dog’s ears. "She’s a puppy. What did you expect?"

"You’ve been away from the gym for half an hour."

She gasps and looks at the wall clock, a light blush creeping into her cheeks.

"I got distracted. But who can resist this cute little face?" she asks, lifting the puppy toward me.

"She’s adorable," I admit. "I just can’t wait for her to be trained and stop destroying everything around her."

"You complain a lot for someone I saw playing with her in the middle of the night."

"Of course I did, she was crying. It’s not like I could just ignore her." I shrug, but the truth is she reminds me of Toothless when I brought him home.

Cerberus and Apollo were already part of our family. I had no intention of adopting another dog, but Adonis found a dog fighting ring in San Jose while tracking a predator and alerted us. We contacted local authorities, and since we were the informants, we followed the process. Most of the puppies were relocated, but no one could get near one of the pit bull pups—a breed that already faces a lot of prejudice. Being completely black, they said he was bad luck. I heard he’d be euthanized if they couldn’t find a home for him. That same day, I visited the shelter where he was being held, and the dog everyone feared ran straight toward me, wagging his tail and licking my hand. Just like that, Toothless adopted me.

"But now she’s going to play in the yard," I comment.

"I know," she says, standing with the puppy in her arms. The other three dogs, who had been lying in a distant corner, get up and follow her. "Come on, Persephone, you’re going to play with your brothers outside now."

I chuckle at the name she chose.

"What?"

"It’s a bit long for her, don’t you think?"

"No, she’ll grow into it. Like you can say anything," she says, passing me on her way to the kitchen and the door that leads to the backyard.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"What’s the name of your company again?" she counters, raising an eyebrow.

"Hades’ Men Corp."

"And the nightclub?"

"Underworld."

"And we have three other dogs—two of them named after Greek gods—and Toothless is a reference to a cartoon dragon. So yes, Persephone fits perfectly," she declares confidently, shutting the door after all the dogs are outside.

"So what you’re saying is the name of your dog is a tribute to us?" I ask with a smug smile.

She slaps my arm and heads to the gym.

She’s already stretching when I arrive. We do a quick warm-up on the treadmill before joining on the mat.

"What do you say we start with some sparring? See how much you’ve absorbed from the past lessons," I suggest.

She shrugs and takes her fighting stance. Both arms raised, protecting her body and face, one foot in front of the other. Her progress and dedication never fail to impress me. Over the past month, she’s regained her stamina and strength.

We eye each other for a few seconds. I wait for the blonde to decide whether she wants to start offensively or defensively. She extends one arm and smirks as she turns her palm upward and curls her fingers in a clear “come on” gesture.

"Don’t tease me," I warn, advancing. I throw a combination of punches and kicks, testing her reflexes. She manages to block or dodge each one.

Brooke ducks low, trying to sweep me, and when I dodge, she goes on the offensive, searching for a weak spot in my defense. After a few strikes, I deliberately leave my left side exposed. I see her eyes catch it. She doesn’t waste time and punches my ribs. I grab her arm before she can pull it back.

"Good target choice," I praise. "But you need to work on your recoil."

She grins, stepping closer and twisting her arm in a way that breaks my hold. Then she grabs my arm, pinning it against her. Her movements are fluid, and she stops only when she’s pressed against my back, my arm in a very uncomfortable position between us.

It’s impossible to ignore the feel of her breasts against my back, or the scent of her floral perfume filling my lungs with every breath, and her mischievous whisper in my ear only fuels the constant hunger I have for Brooke.

"You were saying…" Her lips brush my earlobe, and a shiver runs through me. It takes me a few seconds to recover and turn to face her.

I break free using the same move I once taught Brooke in our first sessions. Now that my arms are free, I grab her right elbow with one hand and her shirt at the left shoulder with the other, pulling her close to my side, nearly behind me. Without giving her time to react, I slide one leg between hers and take her down, landing on top of her. My arms pin her wrists beside her head, my knees straddle her waist, and I keep my legs tight against her body. Brooke is quick to bend her knees, gaining some leverage and forcing me to brace myself on her thighs.

Now I’m the one smiling.

"What did I teach you about celebrating too early?" Seeing Brooke beneath me, wearing a defiant look even in a submissive position, makes my blood heat and rush south.

She doesn’t hesitate to use the maneuver we’ve practiced countless times. She thrusts her hips up while pulling her wrists down in a half-moon motion, breaking free and knocking me off balance. I’m forced to catch myself before my head hits the mat.

The blonde wraps her arms around my torso, keeping me down. Her right arm snakes around my left, yanking it against her chest firmly. She uses her own knee to guide the movement and flip us over.

Brooke is now between my legs, holding down my arms. Our eyes meet, and the air shifts—the tension from sparring turns into something thick with desire. She climbs onto my lap, straddling my abdomen, her hands sliding up my arms to my wrists.

She leans down slowly, giving me a delicious view of her cleavage. Her face hovers over mine. Her gaze drops from my eyes to my mouth and then back again.

"Who’s the one celebrating too soon now?" she asks, grinding her hips against my hardening cock. She flashes one of her wicked smiles before closing the gap and kissing me.

The touch of her soft lips melts any self-control I might have had when it comes to the woman straddling me right now. Her tongue slips into my mouth, exploring and tangling with mine.

She loosens her grip on me, and I take the opportunity to free myself. My hands slide down her arms, over her ribs, until they reach her round ass, which I pull toward my growing erection. Brooke moans into my mouth, grinding against me and drawing a groan from deep in my throat.

The blonde reaches for the hem of my shirt and presses her hand to my abdomen, tracing the muscles with her agile fingers, pushing me to the edge. My need to have her overrides every reason why I shouldn’t. I’m tired of waiting, tired of fearing she’ll run. Brooke has seen all my darkness and didn’t flinch. On the contrary—she embraced it, welcomed it, and proved time and again that she loves me without conditions.

She pulls back, her eyes dark with desire, lips red from our kiss.

"Seth," she breathes my name like a prayer. "Show me how you like it."

If I hadn’t already made up my mind to do just that, her words would’ve been my undoing.

I grab her hips, flipping us over once more.

"Bedroom," I command. "Now."