view of a weight bench, elliptical machine and
a treadmill. Along the walls, shiny swords and long, ragged blades rested in
custom brackets.
I glared at him. “I know the mechanics, isn’t that enough?
Come on,” I batted my eyelashes and ran a finger down my stomach, “let’s go
back to your house and make out some more.”
Dante’s lips twitched as if he fought a smile.
“Stop,” Micah protested. “I do not need the image of you two
together in my head. Bad enough I had to hear details from Ella.”
Heat infused my cheeks at Dante’s slow-spreading, self-satisfied
grin. My sister had a big mouth.
Micah pointed at him. “Wipe that sappy-ass smirk from your
face. I should kick your ass for even going there, you know that? You don’t
hook up with friends’ little sisters.”
The area around my heart grew warm. Micah thought of me as
his sister?
Dante shook his head and snorted. “You could try. Besides, I
should kick your brother’s ass, and I didn’t, so consider us even.”
“He was wasted and I advised him to leave it alone,
obviously he didn’t listen,” Micah defended.
Amusement apparently gone, Dante let his smile fall into a
straight line. “Wasted or not, that was his one free pass. You feel me?”
Micah gave a quick, curt nod of his head. Man speak for, ‘I
feel you’. To me, he said, “Let’s get this show on the road before Ella and Eli
get back from their hunt. She wasn’t happy about this little training session.
When my woman is unhappy, she makes my life a living hell.”
“Where do we start?” I tilted my head from side to side,
loosening the muscles there, and focused on the man—half demon—in front of me.
Micah bounced up and down on the mat. Every time he landed,
little puffs of air squished out from the sides. He jabbed his hand out, his
fist a blur and narrowly missed my face.
“Hey! Watch it.” I batted his hand away.
Micah grinned at me and the sight made me go a little weak
in the knees. Must be some kind of a demon superpower.
“Grabs,” he said. “It’s the most common attack. It’s also
the way your attacker will gain power over you. There are lots of ways to deal
with this, but the best is to let him or her grab you.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s ridiculous,” I said.
“Micah is right,” Dante said and pushed off the wall to take
Micah’s place. My lion circled me. I couldn’t see, but I could feel the heat of
his gaze roaming over my ass. He trailed his finger over my shoulder as he
turned, the caress vanishing after he stroked my biceps. I shivered and tried
to focus on something other than how it felt to have his fingers moving inside
me, mastering my body.
He stopped in front of me. “You let him grab you, it takes
away one of his weapons—his hand—and it allows you to strike back when he least
expects it.”
Dante grabbed my wrist, his fingers closing around the
slender bone and making my arm feel like a twig. His otherness washed over me
and my skin felt electrified. He looked down at me, gaze darting from my lips
to my mouth. I flicked my tongue out before tugging my lip between my teeth. Pride
swelled at the way his lids went half-mast with sexual want.
When he spoke, his voice was low and intimate. “Grab the
hand that grabs you. Next, I want you to step into his body and strike the
eyes, nose or throat—we’ll call those the VAs or vulnerable areas—with your
free arm. If you can’t reach his face, get to the side to avoid his head, then
knee or kick him in the groin or the legs. The body’s natural reaction after
being hit in one of those places is to bring your head down, when he does this
aim for VAs.”
In slow motion, I grabbed him back and stepped into him as
instructed. Dante’s body was warm and big. His scent washed over me. Where our
skin touched, heat bloomed and I had a hard time pushing the image of him
between my legs, tongue tracing my labia, flicking my clit, curling inside,
from my mind. Arousal
a treadmill. Along the walls, shiny swords and long, ragged blades rested in
custom brackets.
I glared at him. “I know the mechanics, isn’t that enough?
Come on,” I batted my eyelashes and ran a finger down my stomach, “let’s go
back to your house and make out some more.”
Dante’s lips twitched as if he fought a smile.
“Stop,” Micah protested. “I do not need the image of you two
together in my head. Bad enough I had to hear details from Ella.”
Heat infused my cheeks at Dante’s slow-spreading, self-satisfied
grin. My sister had a big mouth.
Micah pointed at him. “Wipe that sappy-ass smirk from your
face. I should kick your ass for even going there, you know that? You don’t
hook up with friends’ little sisters.”
The area around my heart grew warm. Micah thought of me as
his sister?
Dante shook his head and snorted. “You could try. Besides, I
should kick your brother’s ass, and I didn’t, so consider us even.”
“He was wasted and I advised him to leave it alone,
obviously he didn’t listen,” Micah defended.
Amusement apparently gone, Dante let his smile fall into a
straight line. “Wasted or not, that was his one free pass. You feel me?”
Micah gave a quick, curt nod of his head. Man speak for, ‘I
feel you’. To me, he said, “Let’s get this show on the road before Ella and Eli
get back from their hunt. She wasn’t happy about this little training session.
When my woman is unhappy, she makes my life a living hell.”
“Where do we start?” I tilted my head from side to side,
loosening the muscles there, and focused on the man—half demon—in front of me.
Micah bounced up and down on the mat. Every time he landed,
little puffs of air squished out from the sides. He jabbed his hand out, his
fist a blur and narrowly missed my face.
“Hey! Watch it.” I batted his hand away.
Micah grinned at me and the sight made me go a little weak
in the knees. Must be some kind of a demon superpower.
“Grabs,” he said. “It’s the most common attack. It’s also
the way your attacker will gain power over you. There are lots of ways to deal
with this, but the best is to let him or her grab you.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s ridiculous,” I said.
“Micah is right,” Dante said and pushed off the wall to take
Micah’s place. My lion circled me. I couldn’t see, but I could feel the heat of
his gaze roaming over my ass. He trailed his finger over my shoulder as he
turned, the caress vanishing after he stroked my biceps. I shivered and tried
to focus on something other than how it felt to have his fingers moving inside
me, mastering my body.
He stopped in front of me. “You let him grab you, it takes
away one of his weapons—his hand—and it allows you to strike back when he least
expects it.”
Dante grabbed my wrist, his fingers closing around the
slender bone and making my arm feel like a twig. His otherness washed over me
and my skin felt electrified. He looked down at me, gaze darting from my lips
to my mouth. I flicked my tongue out before tugging my lip between my teeth. Pride
swelled at the way his lids went half-mast with sexual want.
When he spoke, his voice was low and intimate. “Grab the
hand that grabs you. Next, I want you to step into his body and strike the
eyes, nose or throat—we’ll call those the VAs or vulnerable areas—with your
free arm. If you can’t reach his face, get to the side to avoid his head, then
knee or kick him in the groin or the legs. The body’s natural reaction after
being hit in one of those places is to bring your head down, when he does this
aim for VAs.”
In slow motion, I grabbed him back and stepped into him as
instructed. Dante’s body was warm and big. His scent washed over me. Where our
skin touched, heat bloomed and I had a hard time pushing the image of him
between my legs, tongue tracing my labia, flicking my clit, curling inside,
from my mind. Arousal
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