You and Chris had never been fond of each other—not just sworn enemies, but a mutual disdain that fueled constant teasing. Here you were again, pinning the muscleman beneath you, his attempts to resist futile against your weight.

"Too bad, Redfield. Always too easy," you teased, noting his struggle despite his physical advantage.

Despite his growls, Chris couldn't deny the tension whenever your bodies connected. "I'll get you this time," he vowed, attempting to grab your hand, inadvertently drawing your faces closer.

"And not just in one way," he grunted, a suggestive smirk playing on his lips as his words hung in the air.