Dominance Evolution System: Sweat, Sex, and Streetball-Chapter 205: Who’s Testing Who?

Nash waited outside the bathroom door, his back leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

The sound of water running was his signal, the information he needed were somewhere in here. This was his shot, but he had to be careful, nothing proved she wasn’t testing him.

Victoria could have set this up, Dahlia playing drunk to see if he’d snoop. One wrong move, and it was over.

There was no room for mistakes.

He moved to the desk, hand sliding over the smooth wood, fingers tracing the drawers without a sound. He pulled the first one open slowly, papers inside, receipts for booze and stims, nothing odd.

Next drawer, files on team sponsors, Breakball bets from shady groups. Interesting, but the usual stuff down there, offers from gang-backed businesses to fund Blacklist, names like "RRR Syndicate" with interesting credits amounts, but no dirt.

Still, this confirmed that there was a lot of money running down this team, maybe he should ask for a rise as payback for leaving him working on his own.

He flipped through fast, eyes searching for anything out of place, but all he found was potential players scouted, agents’ contacts, stats on rookies like him.

Good intel for his own plays, but nothing to crack Victoria’s wall.

He took a quick photo with his phone, flash off, heart thumping steady. This might be useful later, but not for what he needed now.

Seriously... she can’t be that clean and have this position. If she said she had dirtied her hands, it must mean there’s fucking something.

The tension built, his ears straining to hear the water, ready to step back if any move from that place happened.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Dahlia stood at the sink, water running from the faucet. She scrubbed her hand first, soap lathering thick as she washed away the sticky residue, the pungent smell fading under the flow.

Then her face, splashing water over her cheeks, cooling the flush from the whiskey, the liquid running down her neck in warm trails.

She looked up at the mirror, her short platinum-blonde bob slightly damp now, light green eyes meeting her reflection, the beauty mark under her left eye standing out sharp.

She frowned, brows knitting.

Back to Nash, he closed the drawer softly, stepping to the shelves. Bottles of high-end whiskey glittered, files tucked behind, more documents on players, advertisements.

Nothing illegal on the surface. Useful, but not the breakthrough. His pulse quickened, ears on the bathroom door, water still running.

Dahlia could walk in any second, and as Victoria would learn they were here, it might be his very last opportunity to search through her things.

Dahlia turned off the faucet, drying her hands on a towel, the fabric soft against her skin. She glanced at her reflection again, frowning deeper.

What am I doing? He’s out there. This was stupid, following him up here.

Her eyes turned to the door, narrowing.

Nash kept looking as much as he could, but it seemed like he would need the whole night to go through every corner of this room, suddenly bigger than what he imagined.

And a specific noise made him remember that he didn’t have the whole night.

The water was still running, but the door handle had just been turned.

Nash froze, the bathroom door opened.

"Shit," he muttered.

Heart racing, he moved quickly to the window, crossing his arms over his chest, staring out at the Underground lights below like he’d been doing that the whole time.

Dahlia stepped out, wrapped in just a white towel barely covering her body, tucked tightly above her heavy tits.

Her dark skin, still glistened with water drops that trailed down her toned thighs and flat stomach.

She walked closer, bare feet, eyes narrowing on his back at the window.

Nash’s mind panicked, imagining a thousand scenario he could use.

Did she hear him at the desk? See something?

He turned slowly, facing her, regaining his composure.

"Enjoying the view?" Dahlia said casually.

Nash nodded.

"Just admiring the ants orgy."

She stopped right behind him, close enough he felt her heat, faint soap smell mixing with her skin.

"You sure? You looked very busy earlier. So... Can I have some explanations?"

Nash’s lips twitched, and inside, his soul screamed the F word.

Busy? Did she meant snooping?

How does she know?

His pulse quickened, she knew, she definitely knew.

But how? He was sure the door was closed. Did she eavesdrop?

He tried to keep it smooth, leaning against the wall casually.

"Busy? Just waiting. Giving you time to come back."

She stepped closer, towel shifting, her tits almost brushing his chest. Her light green eyes locked on his, sharp despite the whiskey.

"Time? You led me here, away from the crowd, private bathroom. Seemed like your plan from the start. I have to say, you really got me."

Her hand reached out, fingers poking his chest lightly, then tracing down his abs slowly.

"But here you are, standing like a priest, and we both know there’s nothing holy in you. What’s the game, Nash?"

Nash gulped.

Cost me? Shit...

She was hinting at the snooping.

Fuck, she knows. His heart thumped loudly, confusion mixing with a little bit of frustration.

He had all the time, he had the whole control. But in the last moment, he fucked up.

The drunk moment was just an act, she was well aware.

If she reported now, Victoria would shut him down and the quest would be over. But he stayed calm, voice even.

"No game. Just thought you’d want privacy after the splash. You okay now?"

Dahlia’s eyes narrowed more, stepping even closer, her thigh pressing his leg now, towel riding up a fraction.

Her breath came quicker, tits heaving against him.

"Privacy? With you waiting outside? With the door open? Come on. Why aren’t you just taking me?"

Nash’s eyes widened, his brows rising.

What?....

Dahlia looked annoyed, almost pouting. Her fingers pressed harder on his chest.

"You planned this, didn’t you? Get me here, wash up, then take me. But you didn’t. Why? What? Am I suddenly not good enough now that you have more girls to fuck? Do something, this isn’t like you."

Her tone was sharp but playful, eyes locked on his with that half-lidded whiskey glaze. Her body was leaning into him like she couldn’t help it.

He realized it then, she was still affected by the whiskey, not completely drunk but more open. Her usual composed self would’ve shut this down coldly, reporting every move to Victoria.

But here she was, scolding, teasing, like a girl poking her bad boy for slacking, just annoyed he hadn’t pounced on her.

Nash’s mouth opened a second, then a wide smile spread slowly.

This is... Perfect.

Dahlia crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them up higher.

"What? Cat got your tongue now? Are you seriously considering?"

Her voice was low, teasing starting to sound annoyed.

"You sure you’re going to stand here like an idiot? You never hesitated before, so why now? Or are you waiting for me to beg?"

She crossed her arms, looking aside quick, avoiding his eyes.

Nash smiled, it wasn’t just better than what he imagined, it was the best case scenario.

His hand reached out, finger sliding gently under her chin.

He turned her head to face him, her skin warm and soft under his touch, her light green eyes meeting his.

"I’m not an idiot," he said low, voice seducing smooth, like a secret just for her. "I don’t take advantage of a drunk woman. I’ll feel bad if you regret tomorrow."

Dahlia’s breath hitched, her eyes drowning in his, how splendid he looked up close, tall and built, confident without trying, making her annoyed again that he was so... so perfect.

And his words... Damn, was that really the same guy who used her like a toy in the car?

Her thighs pressed together, body leaning in subtly despite herself.

She pulled closer suddenly, hand gripping his shirt.

"I’m not drunk enough to not realize what you’re doing. When I’m out of my comfort zone, I commit a lot of mistakes." Her fingers rubbed his chest harder, eyes on his lips. "And I’m giving you plenty of hints I want a big one, right here, right now."

Nash’s mind smirked at her bold push,

Music to my ear.

He leaned in slowly, lips brushing hers lightly. His hand slided gently to Dahlia’s waist, fingers brushing the damp towel.

Her breath caught, eyelids drooping more.

He tilted her chin up with his thumb, lips meeting hers softly, warm, plush press, no rush, just the slow slide of his mouth on hers, tasting the faint whiskey burn and her sweetness.

She sighed into it, lips parting a little, her body melting closer, tits pressing light against his chest.

His lips moved slowly, sucking her lower lip softly between his, feeling it yield plump under his touch.

Her hands came up, fingers tracing his arms lightly, leaning in more, the towel slipping a bit

Nash’s hand trailed up her back, fingers spreading wide on her bare skin where the towel gaped, warm and smooth, tracing the curve of her spine.

He pulled her closer, turning her slowly in his arms so her back faced the door.

His chin rested on her shoulder. From here, he had a perfect angle to watch if anyone came.

"So," Victoria said, crossing her arms. "You decided to betray me."