I pull her to her feet, but I’m too forceful about it. She braces her hands against my chest, our bodies plastered against each other. She’s close. Too close.
I hear the breath she sucks in, can feel the way it hits her chest. She might have a no-kissing rule, but her body is telling me she’s at least thinking about it right now.
After a moment, she pushes off my chest and forces her gaze to mine. “So…how are you going to show me this butt-kicking?”
My lip twitches. “Butt-kicking? Do you not curse?”
She shakes her head as she smooths down her dress. “No. Cursing is unladylike.”
Her answer is instant and monotone. It almost sounds like she’srepeatingit. And I find it as interesting as I do disturbing.
“If cursing is unladylike, then what is fighting?” I try to sound playful.
“I…” Her brow furrows, her mind clearly flying a mile a minute. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just…a personal preference…”
“Baby, I don’t think you could offend me if you tried. I—” I drag a hand down my face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. You just surprised me, that’s all.” I glance toward the open space in the suite, suddenly second-guessing my idea. “I wanted to show you a jiu-jitsu move, but if it makes you uncomfortable, then we can forget it. I don’t want?—”
“I want to try,” she blurts out.
I think we’re both surprised by the eager answer.
“I mean, if youwant to show me, then I’d love to learn,” she tacks on, backtracking. But I can see through the lie. She’s trying to hide her interest by making it about me.
I’ll let her hide. For now.
“Come on.” I take her hand and lead her to the open area. “I’ll warn you that it’s going to seem a little weird in the beginning, but once you get it, it’s really cool.”
“That’s not terrifying,” she mutters sarcastically.
I turn to face her, chuckling. “Also, a dress is going to feel like an odd outfit choice for this.”
“If I had known I was dressing for a fight, I would’ve made slightly different clothing choices.”
Curious, I ask, “What’s your everyday clothing choice?” I’m suddenly dying to know if she’s a jeans and tank top kind of girl, or if she’s always dressed like she’s headed for the runway.
But for some reason, she clams up at that before joking, “What do you mean? I’m always dressed in cocktail attire.”
I decide to move past the question. “Regardless, cocktail attire wouldn’t be my go-to for this activity. But we’re just going to ignore that. Can you—” I feel my face heat with a blush, realizing for the first time how weird this request is going to sound outside of the MMA gym. “Can you lay down? I need to be on top of you.”
She tries to hide her smile but fails. “I thought that came later. But okay.” Moving gracefully, she lowers herself to the carpeted floor and lies flat on her back. “This doesn’t feel conducive to self-defense, Nico.”
“I told you it was going to feel weird at first,” I grumble, questioning this decision as I lower to my knees beside her. Especially when I have to clear my throat and gesture toward her legs. “I…uh, I need to kneel between your legs.”
She props herself up on her elbows and raises an eyebrow. “This is sounding more and more like foreplay…”
“Yeah, all of a sudden, I kind of understand why keyboard warriors call me gay when I do this with men,” I mutter.
She chuckles, the sound easing some of my tension. But then she spreads her legs, her dress inching way too far up on her thighs with the movement. And all that tension returns.
I refuse to look down. That’s not what this is about. This wasn’t a ploy to fuck her, and I need her to understand that. So I keep my focus trained strategically on her neck as I shuffle between her legs, then lean over her and plant my hands beside her ears.
“Now what?” she asks, but she sounds slightly more breathless than before. Thank God, I’m not the only one affected.
“Now you—” I clear my throat and try to get my shit together. “One thing first. From a self-defense standpoint, the worst position you can be in is on the ground with someone on top of you. Right?” I wait for her nod to signal she’s taking this seriously. “So, I’m going to show you something that’s called a sweep. It’s basically using leverage to get your opponent off balance so you can sweep them onto their back. Make sense?”
She nods again, her eyes wide and mesmerized.
I pull in a deep breath for courage, because now’s the part where I have to look down at her legs—and try not to think about the space between them, wondering if this is making her as wet as it’s making me hard.
