Before I realize what I’m doing, my hand finds his, and I let him guide me out the door and intothehall.
“I trained with a few members of the Israeli military between tours,” he says as we enter the main room. “Fell in love with Krav Maga—the sheer power and efficiency. Anyone can learn to protectthemselves.”
I pause, unprepared for the silence of the studio. In the few minutes we spent in his office, everyone cleared out. Even the blonde at the front desk. The scent of cleanser hangs in the air, and the thick windows insulate us from the thumping bass across thestreet.
“You closed fortheday?”
“Until 5:00 p.m. The afternoon classes don’t draw enough of a crowd to pay an instructor.” His voice roughens, and when he meets my gaze, strain tightens his eyes. Sparing one long look at the CrossFit studio, he shakes his head. “Fuckers.”
Once he’s kicked off his shoes, West grabs a chair from the side of the room and then sets it in the center of the thick, blue mats. He eases my cane from my hand. “I won’t letyoufall.”
I can’t help the momentary panic as he leads me across the squishy floor. I hate mats. But curiosity wins out over nervousness, and once I’m seated, the floor-to-ceiling mirrors reveal a hint of excitement on both of ourfaces.
West brushes his lips against my cheek, sending goosebumps peppering my bare arms. “Krav Maga teaches you how to use your own strength as an advantage. No matter how much stronger your opponent is.” He steps in front of me and rests his hands along my collar bone. “If I tried to strangle you, what wouldyoudo?”
Slowly, he slides his hands closer, never tightening his grip or breaking eye contact, but still, my heart stutters, and I fight to keep my breathing calm. I grab his wrists, trying to pull his hands down, and then to the sides, but he’s toostrong. “West.”
As he lets go, I draw an unsteady breath, and he drops to his knees, wraps his arms around me, and lets me lean against him. “I’m sorry. I should have let you do that to mefirst.”
“I’m okay…” I want to be, but though I haven’t trusted anyone in a long time like I trust him, my heart stillpounds.
“Look at me, Cam.” When I meet his gaze, concern darkens his eyes. “Nothing’s going to happen to you when I’m around. I promise. If you don’t want to continue, we can gokayaking.”
He looks so sincere, I can’t wimp out, nor do I want to. “I get tostrangleyou?”
With a laugh, he nods. “Try. Bothhands.”
I’m not sure what he’s hoping to prove, but at least this doesn’t require me to fight against some irrational self-preservation instinct, so I wrap both hands around his neck. “Whatnow?”
“Don’t let me pull yourhandsaway.”
“Yeah, right.” I lock out my muscles, and to my surprise, he struggles to remove my hands. When he releases my wrists, he sits back on hisheels.
“You’ve got great shoulders and lats, Cam. Swimming gives you more upper body strength than most women. Even without that, pulling someone’s hands down or to the side is the least efficient method of breaking a choke hold. Try again, and this time, use as much strength as you can. You won’thurtme.”
When he straightens, I return my hands to his throat. How he’s not panicking, I don’t understand, as I can feel him swallow against my grip, but he smiles, the light in his eyes reassuring me. In a single breath, my hands fly apart, and I don’t even know how he broke free. “What didyoudo?”
He nods and I try again. This time, he slows his movements. As he jams his hands upwards against my wrists, my hold breaks. “There are two weak points in any choke hold: the wrists and the shoulders. Force one of those to bend, and you can easily get free. Most people try to pull down. That’s working against your opponent’s strength: their latsandabs.”
“Can I try?” Though I trust him, my breath quickens when he wraps his hands around my neck. Despite the tension in his biceps, when I snap my arms up and hit his wrists, his hands shoot up andaway. “Shit.”
“That’s the first move we teach in self-defense. Even if you only have one arm, you can usually escape a choke hold with that technique. Want to trysomethingelse?”
He’s excited now, but so amI. “Yes.”
When I master a second technique—defending against a frontal attack—West ends up flat on the ground, the assailant turned victim, and the rush of adrenaline fills me with longing. I ease myself down, the thick mats allowing me to straddle him, my hands braced on his sculpted chest, the heat of him no match for my desire setaflame.
“Watch out, angel. Don’t tempt me if you’re notverysure about this.” He licks his lips, and the few reservations I have fly out the window. Since we’re hidden from view by the heavy bags, I strip offmytank.
“Your move,soldier.”
He pulls me down, his erection pressing into my hip. “Lastchance.”
“Fuck me, West. Please.” He’s gentle as he eases my shorts down my hips, then with a final glance towards the mostly-hidden door, he straightens. His abs ripple as he strips off his shirt, and when he’s naked, I wrap my fingers around his cock, stroking the length as he shudders inmygrip.
I intend to continue my ministrations, but he reaches down and pinches my nipple through my black lace bra, and the shock of pain sends a rush of need shooting through my core. My back arches as I release him, and he slides a finger under the hem of my panties, teasing mycenter.
Moaning as I thrust my hips closer to his hand, I’m rewarded by exquisite pressure against my mound. Too soon, he pulls away but then yanks my panties down my legs. “I want totasteyou.”
