Her stance was good—left foot forward, chin slightly down, elbows tucked in tight.
She gave the bag one solid strike, her torso twisting.
He watched her throw more punches. Each hit was hard and filled with heavy, loaded emotion.
He watched one more before stepping behind her and gripping her hips.
She gasped. “What are you doing?”
“You’ve got good form, but you need to twist with your hips, not just your torso.” He guided her hips to show her. “And after the hit, you need to unwind your hips and return your hands to guard.”
She nodded.
He guided her hips forward a second time, then back. “That’s good.”
“I thought you said you weren’t a teacher?”
“You’re not a beginner, so this isn’t really teaching.”
“Then what is it?”
An excuse to touch her? A strange need to get close? And fuck, why did she smell so good? All florals like he was in the middle of a fucking garden.
He must have taken too long to respond, because she glanced over her shoulder and there was something in her eyes. The sadness from moments ago was gone, replaced with…desire?
He told himself to take his hands off her, to step back. He fucking screamed it. But he didn’t listen, because he was weak. He stood so still he wasn’t even breathing, needing to know what she’d do next.
Her gaze lowered to his lips, and that desire in her eyes shifted. Darkened.
Her breathing quickened, her gaze rising to his eyes again.
He was a damn fool. Because even though every part of him knew that he shouldn’t, he didn’t listen.
He lowered his head and kissed her.
It felt like a gut punch. But the good kind. The kind that felt like he was breathing fresh air for the first time in years. Sweet fucking air that filled his lungs.
She turned the rest of her body, and he only released her hips for a second before gripping them again and tugging her into him. When her chest hit his, she gasped, and he slipped his tongue inside.
And the taste of her…shit, it was like an assault on his senses. So sweet he could drown in her. He swirled his tongue around hers. His hands were just slipping up her sides, getting lost in her softness, when she pressed her gloved hands to his chest and pushed.
It took more willpower than it should have, but he forced himself to step back. Her eyes were hazy and her chest was heaving.
“That was…unexpected,” she breathed, voice barely a whisper.
What was? The kiss? Or the way it shifted something between them?
“Can you…” She lifted her hands.
He unstrapped her gloves, and the second they were off she took two steps away.
“Well, I, uh…should be getting out of here.” Her next step almost caused her to stumble over a box.
He grabbed her arm. “Do you need a ride home?”
“No. Nope.” She stepped away again, his hand dropping. “I’m good. I’m, uh, completely…very good. Yes. Okay. Bye.”
She almost raced out of the gym.
