“Hmm. We’ll see how long that lasts. You might feel differently once the pain kicks in.”
“I agree.” He laughs. “But it might not be in the way you think.”
Misha’s snort reminds me we’re not alone, and Thatcher moves into position, stretching his hands above his head in the process. His abs flex, and the material of his gym shorts pulls taut, outlining the appendage that’s seared into my brain, regardless of how hard I’ve been trying to forget it.
“What has Misha taught you?”
His head tilts again as he settles into a loose stance, ready for anything I have to throw at him. I’m not making the effort, though. If he wants anything from me, he can come and try to take it. My defense is my best offense, using my reflexes and decisiveness against men who are almost always bigger than me. I could spend a lifetime in the gym, and I have, but the reality of the world is that fighting a man’s natural testosterone is an uphill battle. The idea of exogenously boosting my own levels has tempted me in the past, but until it’s necessary formy health…why the fuck am I thinking about menopause when Thatcher’s first jab is coming at my face?
It’s predictable, and I waste no time telling him so.
“I know for a fact,” I say as he stumbles, my parry throwing him off balance just a touch, “that he taught you not to telegraph your next moves before you make them.”
“Hedid,and I’mnot—fuck!”
His back hits the mat, and he groans briefly before kipping himself up and pouting.
“You are. Tell him, moya sila.”
Thatcher leans in for advice from Misha, which is better than anything I could give. I’m an expert at destroying and belittling, not rebuilding. I can tell someone what they’re doing wrong all day long, but when it comes to teaching and helping them understand how to improve…Well, there’s a reason Misha does all the training.
By the time he re-enters the mat, he’s a golden retriever again instead of a mopey basset hound, and it’s remarkable how quickly he’s managed to regain his swagger. That’s a useful quality, and one that no doubt serves him well as a professional athlete. It’s also annoying, considering that I’ve struggled to rebound from failures big and small for my entire life. Misha calls it “eldest daughter syndrome,” when I’m being particularly moody.
“So you’re telling me my hips don’t lie?” His serviceable belly dance attempt ends with him on his back again, and my forearm against his windpipe.
“You’re focusing so much on who you think you see across the mat from you that you forget yourself.” Something about his stupid dance has pissed me off, and I feel the reason I came in here today bubble back to the surface. Whether it’s him treating Misha’s time and energy flippantly or something else, I snap. “Do you understand?”
I’m not compressing his windpipe, exactly, but he must wise up just in time to realize I donotwant an answer to that question. He shakes his head, regarding me as the threat that I am.Good.
“I’m not sure what you’re seeing when you look at me. I’m a woman, and that’s a fact. You’re bigger and stronger than me, although I’m undoubtedly closer to you in every metric of strength and agility than any woman you’ve ever met. I’m your hostess, since you live in my house, and I’m your best friend’s sister. Anything else you see when you look at me is yours alone, and I can’t control that. But you’re joking on a training mat while we practice, and if it’s because you think for a second I couldn’t kill you right now with my bare hands and no blood spilled, you’re a damn fool.”
He’s turning purple, and I finally release the pressure I was holding to allow him to breathe deeply again. As I sit back and move to stand, the rock-hard cock underneath me shocks me into complete stillness. Time freezes, and I vaguely note Misha making an excuse and clearing out with the few men who had still been in the gym.
Alright, how do I regain control of this situation? Apologize for being an asshole…eh, he kind of deserved it. Maybe I can still salvage this lesson and give him some pointers, even if teaching isn’t my forté.
“Um, sorry. I’ve had a rough day, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” Okay, I guess Iamapologizing.What the hell…
“You can.”
“Sorry?”
Thatcher turns back around, having collected himself and tucked things securely away, based on my glance. He doesn’t look too put out about anything, although he isn’t as bubbly as he was either. “You can take things out on me. Besides, you were right. I wasn’t taking this seriously enough, and I know betterthan to goof off in a gym where people could get hurt. But truly, when you’re having a bad day, you can take it out on me. I can handle it.”
The heavy thwomp of the air-conditioning unit kicking on saves me from having absolutely fucking no response to that. The decision I made not to pursue…whatever this is, or could be…I can’t even remember why it would be a bad idea.Teddy, distraction, danger, to-do list…
Okay, the reasons are valid.Compartmentalization it is, then.
“Still, you didn’t deserve that. I do have a lot of pent-up energy today, though, so if you’re not too tired…”
For half a second, his eyebrows threaten to wag suggestively, and I canseethe restraint it takes him to keep his face neutral.Good boy.
“I can try to teach you how to fight more spontaneously. Or rather, how to make it seem spontaneous while also being calculated to stay well ahead of your opponent. I’m not as patient as Misha, and I’ve never taken pedagogy courses like he has. But I can try to teach you some things. Maybe even some of the tricks I use to get him on his back.”
Thatcher lights up again at the suggestion, and my laugh escapes before I can stop it this time.
“I will do literallyanythingnecessary to learn that skill. I’ll probably only ever get one shot at it, so please have a camera ready when I try, but I promise you’ve never had as eager a student as I am.”
He repositions his headband, and my hand twitches with the urge to run my fingers through his thick hair again, even as wet with sweat as it is. Clearly, I’m just going to have to deal with my unprofessional, horny subconscious desires when it comes to this man. As long as I resist, I can avoid anybody getting hurt.
