The wolfish grin is back at my realization. Seeing my gloves are on, she takes it as a green light flashing and explodes toward me. No warning. Her first punch is a fast, tight jab aimed at my chest. I jerk my torso back, feeling the displaced air whoosh past my stomach. She really wants to hit me. The next swing catches my cheekbone, but it’s barely a graze as I’m forced to step back.
Despite having already hit the punching bag many times over, she’s burning hot. Swinging left and right, it’s impossible to tell which of her hands is the dominant one. I hiss when herglove hits my forearms as I’m forced to protect my face. The sting is immediate.
What in the hell did I do to her to make her hate me so much? Even if she doesn’t like my behavior, I’m not a bad guy.
“Stop dodging and just swing.” She barks the order as I bounce back once more, and I realize she’s already flushed, a faint pink under her pale skin. At this rate, she should tire out, right? But then I see it. Her pupils are blown black, her smile wicked. This chick was born to be violent. She’s crazy, too.
I side-step a wild hook, the glove blurring past my temple. I duck under a follow-up cross, the momentum of her swing making her twist. My heart hammers against my ribs. At this rate, I’m going to run out of steam just avoiding her.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Panting, I weave left as another fist sails past my cheekbone, close enough to feel the breeze. “You’re just a chick—”
Her next hit doesn’t miss. A solid right hook crashes into my left cheekbone. The impact is a bright, shocking crunch of leather on bone. My head snaps sideways, vision swimming with white stars. Just as I sway, I hear her snarl. Wrong choice of words. Got it. Ouch, dude. My face is the best part of me, and a hot, throbbing ache is already spreading under my eye.
Running out of patience myself, I finally swing. A right hook that hits her dead on in the face. The connection sends a jarring vibration up my arm. Immediately, I regret it, especially when I see her stagger, the force clearly rocking her slight frame.
“Fuck, Raven.” Watching her collapse onto one knee, I don’t think twice about clawing at the velcro on my gloves to try to help her. I knew I shouldn’t have let it get this far. “I’m so—”
Before I can even finish my sentence, I barely hear her growl—a low, feral sound—before her glove moves in a blur, catching the underside of my jaw. It’s an uppercut from hell. My teethslam together with a sickening click, my head snaps back so hard my neck screams. The world tilts.
Stumbling back, vision blurred, I’m left with no choice. As she’s immediately back on her feet, surging forward, I throw a desperate, blind swing to the side. It glances off her arm.
“All it takes is a moment of weakness to lower your guard?” She laughs, but it lacks any amusement. It’s a cold, mocking scrape of sound.
Reeling back, I hope it’s because she’s ready to call this stupid spar to an end. Instead, she spins, a whirl of deadly grace, and sends a kick toward me. It’s not a roundhouse; it’s a piston-straight front kick aimed at my center.
I try to catch her leg, but I’m too slow, too rattled. The top of her foot connects just below my ribs with a force that blasts the air from my lungs in a painful whoosh. Agony erupts in my gut.
Stumbling backwards, I grunt as my back hits the ground, the mat doing little to cushion the blow. I lie there gasping, fish-like, for my next breath. I’m willing to bet she’s bruised my gut, maybe cracked a rib. Groaning, I have no choice but to take in her bright, victorious expression.
How can someone so pretty be so fucking terrible?Christ.
Why doesn’t Judge just send her to the Crimson Road clubhouse? She’s got enough fire burning inside her that I don’t think anyone would be able to take her down.
“I’ve wanted that for alongtime, pretty boy.”
She thinks I’m pretty?
Groaning, I’m ready to call an end to this thing myself. Knowing I won’t survive another kick, I watch as she sweeps a foot over my body. Instead of stepping on me, she settles both heels against my hips—a claiming, dominant stance—before she flops down right where I’m sore.
Settling on top so comfortably, she tilts her head as she takes in the view of the damage. “This is normally the part where I’dpummel you. But honestly? You went down so easily, I feel bad.” Sniffing, she wipes her nose with the back of her arm, revealing a smudge of bright red blood. She doesn’t flinch or grimace at the sight.
No, she’s too busy looking down at me with a look of pure pity in her eyes.
Fuck, yeah, rub salt in the wound. And here I thought I enjoyed being saddled by women. When Raven does it, I feel smaller.
“Who in the hell taught you to fight?” Afraid to touch her, my eyes pinch shut when she doesn’t budge. Damn, can’t she just take the win?
Hearing velcro unpeel, one of her gloves hits my chest with a soft thud. “You’d be surprised what a few volunteers and some videos online can teach you. Not like I can expect people to protect me when shit hits the fan.”
Opening my eyes, I watch her peel off the other before the second glove bounces off my chin. Her brows are pinched together, a frown back on her lips. “People like me?”
A small twitch happens to that frown. “Yeah. People like you.” She sighs and leans back, using my thighs as a backrest when my knees bend out of instinct. “Judge really thought you could protect me, huh?”
Normally, I’d get pissed, but it’s kind of hard when she just kicked my ass. “At least I’m good company.”
Nowthatmakes her laugh. It’s a sound that catches me off guard. Eyes twinkling, she slaps my chest and moves to stand. Instead of leaving me on the ground, she offers a hand, expecting to be able to pull me up.
Peeling off my glove and freeing my hand, I wrap my hand around hers. Looking at her fingers, I realize just how small they are compared to mine. Everything about her is small.
