“Is that all you’ve got, Detective?”
“Stop, I’m not in the mood.” She shoved him again, but when he didn’t budge, she threw her leg out in an attempt to trip him… that didn’t work.
“Good try. Not fast enough.”
“Like I could ever be faster than you,” she muttered through gritted teeth
“True, but you could try—uff.” He grunted as her knee connected with his muscular thigh. “Better.” Arousal teased his voice at her violence. “Try faster.”
Bel swept her legs again, this time determined to take him down, but his graceful footwork tripped her instead.
“So slow, Detective.” He released her and stepped back, lowering his body into a fighting stance as he beckoned her with his fingers. “I know you’re better than that.”
“Stop laughing at me,” she growled. He was infuriating, and she wished she possessed the skill to smack him upside thehead… his very handsome head hovering disrespectfully over his illegally chiseled abs.
“Can’t help it. You’re cute when you’re?—”
“I swear to god, if you finish that sentence.” Bel launched herself at him, forcing all her focus into her footwork, but Eamon simply sidestepped her. She skidded wildly across the floor and almost crashed head over heels onto the couch, but he caught her before she made contact.
“Will you punish me if I finish that sentence?” He steadied her on her feet as his tone turned seductive.
“You wouldn’t like it.” Bel’s cheeks burned red hot, and she wanted nothing more than to wipe the flirt off his face.
“Oh, but I think I would… bend your knees, Detective.” He pointed at her legs as she lunged for him. “Better center of gravity.”
Bel obeyed, annoyed that she was even listening to him, and she slammed into his chest like a battering ram.
“God, that was hot,” Eamon moaned, his mass barely budging despite the impact of her full weight, and his enjoyment of her pathetic sparring only aggravated her more, driving her to pull back her fist… which he caught.
“Your body language gives your intentions away,” he corrected as he lowered her arm. “Even if I were human, I would’ve seen that punch coming.”
So Bel punched at his head with her free hand.
And he caught it once again, but not as fast, and triumph welled in her chest.
“Good job,” he praised. “That was fast, and fast is good. Men may out-muscle you, but if you’re faster, you’ll have the advantage. And don’t forget active flexibility. Many people strength train but forget range of motion. If your body bends easily, you’ll outmaneuver them.” To illustrate his point, he grabbed the back of her neck and swung at her face with hisfree arm. For a fraction of a second, she panicked at the speed, knowing she’d never escape the blow in time, but then Eamon dipped her as if they were dancing the tango, and his fist sailed over her nose. It was a fight and a dance and foreplay all in one swift movement, and when he yanked her against his chest, she was breathing as heavily as he was.
“See,” his voice struggled to remain even. “Flexible.”
“Center of gravity, speed, and flexibility.” Bel slid her fingers up his chest, no longer caring that he was sweaty.
“For starters… we should do this more often.” He gripped her hips as if his fists were trying to fuse with her body until they were one being. “You’ve kept up with your training after Abel took you, but if you spar with me, you’ll become an expert in hand-to-hand.”
“I thought I was already an expert in hand-to-hand.” She dragged her palms down his abs to his shorts.
“All right, for that you have to go again.” Eamon shoved her away and lowered his weight. “If you don’t take me down, you die. How do you attack?”
“With a bullet from where I’m standing.”
“Nice try, smartass. You’re unarmed. Go.”
Bel centered her mass and lunged for him, dropping her chest at the last minute and surprising him by going for his groin. She slammed into him, wrapping her arms around his hips as she threw all her weight into the blow, only for the man to take a single step back before becoming an unmovable wall.
“Oh, come on!” she shouted. “Go down!”
Cerberus barked at the commotion and barreled across the room from the window where he’d been watching the garden squirrels. He launched his seventy pounds at their fight, slamming into them with the excitement of a dog who’d grown accustomed to playing rough, and to Bel’s utter annoyance,Eamon yelped and finally stumbled backward, taking both of them with him as he toppled over the back of the couch.
“I’ve been hit!” he moaned as Cerberus attacked his face with kisses. “Medic!”
