That little devil’s smirk shows up and makes my heart pound like a speed bag.
“Come on, then.” She bounces back into open space on the mats. “Show me how it’s done. Slaps only.”
“You slap box?”
She shadow-boxes in place, bouncing dramatically. “I grew up with an asshole brother. I slap box.”
“Not really fair, though. I just did six straight days of hell.”
“Aw, you tired?” She deepens her voice, mimicking the grating sound of her father’s words. “If you quit now, you’ll definitely quit when you’re bleeding, numb, deaf, and blind!”
I kick off my sandals and shrug. “You asked for it.”
Any excuse to get my hands on her…
We dance around each other, giving a few fakes, laughing, diving, and retreating. Our eyes stay locked. Finally, I close the distance.
She smacks me so fast that I yelp and stumble back.
“Damn,” I laugh, rubbing my cheek. “All right. All right. I can see that I’m dealing with a pro.”
Catherine smiles at me, chin down, a thick strand of hair over one eye. Without a doubt, she’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. There’s something primal in that look—a fire in her green eyes that burns only for me.
With the other guys in the gym, she’s just friendly. She acts like they’re all her big brothers.
Me? She teases and tests me. She snaps her fingers and moves me like a drill sergeant.
She smirks like we’re in on a big secret.
And I guess we are. There’s a tension building between us that’s tighter than any bullshit between her brother and me. This isn’t about pride or being a tough guy or proving myself to anyone.
This is about needing each other’s presence.
It’s about watching her take that first bite of my food, witnessing the smile spread over her face like the desert sunrise.
All my life, I’ve been alone. I’m better off on my own. No one to hold me down. No one to turn their back on me…
She makes me want to change that.
I throw a few tired slaps her way, which she easily dodges and counter-strikes.
“Somebody’s beat,” she says. “Give up?”
“I don’t quit.”
I throw my arms around her, grappling like it’s the twelfth round and I need to catch my breath. Catherine squeals but leans into me, peppering my body with playful slaps as we movearound the mat. We run into the heavy bag, and I whirl her around and pin her against it.
“Crowds hate clinches,” she grunts, trying to break free. “It’s boring.”
My hands lock together, wrapped around her, sliding down.
“Yeah? You bored?”
“No…”
She leans back, bathing me in buzzing cinnamon.
The curve of her butt presses against me. Now, there’s no more hiding what I want.
