apparently found new saliva glands. “What if what I want is to boss you around?”
“You want to negotiate for that?” His gaze narrowed tauntingly.
Her mind flashed—his hand in her hair.
The sweet sting.
Holding her hands down.
The way his eyes had sparked knowingly when he’d seen the way it turned her on.
He knew.
“I don’t have all day, Conan.”
He smiled, just briefly—the only acknowledgement that she hadn’t answered his question. And what that meant.
He stepped back and positioned himself two feet in front of her. “Then let’s get started.”
He ran her through exercise after exercise. Showed her the vulnerable places on the body to target, how to sneak a hit to the throat before an attacker saw it coming and how to break every kind of hold. More importantly, he showed her how to look around. How to stop the world from closing in and see the things around her, things she could use to protect herself.
Her muscles ached by the end but she knew she had this.
“You been paying attention, kitten?” Connor asked.
“Does it look as if I’ve fallen asleep?”
He grasped her wrists. “You mean like you did last night? You’re going to pay for that you know. I’m still aching.”
Was he? Did he ache for her?
Her insides flooded with warmth but she twisted her arms free. “So was that score one for me?”
He chuckled and laugh lines dimpled his cheeks. “Sure. Are you ready for the next one?”
She nodded and stepped from foot to foot. He had her ducking, twisting and even landing a hit to his “sensitive” place. Not that he reacted—the bastard. She was ready to savor the sweetness of victory when he caught her from behind, twisted his fist in her hair.
Breath evaporated from her chest. She almost fell to her knees, hardly caring which way this went. When did she become this girl who liked getting her hair pulled?
He laughed behind her.
Air flooded back into her lungs. She slammed her heel into his foot, her elbow into his stomach and twisted—breaking the grip on her hair. She dropped to the floor and rolled out of reach.
Connor pursued with his slow, confident swagger. “Congratulations, you did well. So what is it, baby? Are you going to fight this?” He tucked up the legs of his sweatpants and crouched in front of her. “Or are you mine?”
SEVEN
Her heart leaped into its exit strategy the same way a toddler tries to beat his way through the floor with his fists—by having a full tantrum against her ribs. Connor hovered above her sprawled body. His hungry gaze reminded her of what would come next.
Something told her she might not ever recover.
But the choice was hers wasn’t it?
Oh fuck, there were some things she wanted…
She’d never considered herself a dirty girl, yet the ideas slinking through her head would turn a porn star’s cheeks crimson. He did that to her, made her base. Turned her primal.
“So what do you say? How’s it going to be?” he whispered, his voice husky and raw.
He leaned over her.
She dropped from her hands to her elbows. His words might say he’d fulfill the bargain, would let her choose. His body said he’d always be the one in control. The possibilities sent shivers deep into her core, made her hips ache to have him hold them. And dammit, that’s what she wanted. Him above her. Him holding her down.
To not have to think—just to freaking feel.
But yet…a tiny shred of something held her back. Not enough to stop her taking what she wanted but enough to change the way she took it. Connor…she still didn’t know how far he could be trusted.
And it takes a fuckload of trust to let someone restrain you.
Charlie moistened her lips then sank back against the cool floor. “I guess I’m yours to command.”
His eyes flashed, his nostrils flared. He covered her like a blanket of muscle.
“Good choice,” he growled and planted his mouth on hers.
He kissed her deep, gave her enough tongue to make her want more, yet
“You want to negotiate for that?” His gaze narrowed tauntingly.
Her mind flashed—his hand in her hair.
The sweet sting.
Holding her hands down.
The way his eyes had sparked knowingly when he’d seen the way it turned her on.
He knew.
“I don’t have all day, Conan.”
He smiled, just briefly—the only acknowledgement that she hadn’t answered his question. And what that meant.
He stepped back and positioned himself two feet in front of her. “Then let’s get started.”
He ran her through exercise after exercise. Showed her the vulnerable places on the body to target, how to sneak a hit to the throat before an attacker saw it coming and how to break every kind of hold. More importantly, he showed her how to look around. How to stop the world from closing in and see the things around her, things she could use to protect herself.
Her muscles ached by the end but she knew she had this.
“You been paying attention, kitten?” Connor asked.
“Does it look as if I’ve fallen asleep?”
He grasped her wrists. “You mean like you did last night? You’re going to pay for that you know. I’m still aching.”
Was he? Did he ache for her?
Her insides flooded with warmth but she twisted her arms free. “So was that score one for me?”
He chuckled and laugh lines dimpled his cheeks. “Sure. Are you ready for the next one?”
She nodded and stepped from foot to foot. He had her ducking, twisting and even landing a hit to his “sensitive” place. Not that he reacted—the bastard. She was ready to savor the sweetness of victory when he caught her from behind, twisted his fist in her hair.
Breath evaporated from her chest. She almost fell to her knees, hardly caring which way this went. When did she become this girl who liked getting her hair pulled?
He laughed behind her.
Air flooded back into her lungs. She slammed her heel into his foot, her elbow into his stomach and twisted—breaking the grip on her hair. She dropped to the floor and rolled out of reach.
Connor pursued with his slow, confident swagger. “Congratulations, you did well. So what is it, baby? Are you going to fight this?” He tucked up the legs of his sweatpants and crouched in front of her. “Or are you mine?”
SEVEN
Her heart leaped into its exit strategy the same way a toddler tries to beat his way through the floor with his fists—by having a full tantrum against her ribs. Connor hovered above her sprawled body. His hungry gaze reminded her of what would come next.
Something told her she might not ever recover.
But the choice was hers wasn’t it?
Oh fuck, there were some things she wanted…
She’d never considered herself a dirty girl, yet the ideas slinking through her head would turn a porn star’s cheeks crimson. He did that to her, made her base. Turned her primal.
“So what do you say? How’s it going to be?” he whispered, his voice husky and raw.
He leaned over her.
She dropped from her hands to her elbows. His words might say he’d fulfill the bargain, would let her choose. His body said he’d always be the one in control. The possibilities sent shivers deep into her core, made her hips ache to have him hold them. And dammit, that’s what she wanted. Him above her. Him holding her down.
To not have to think—just to freaking feel.
But yet…a tiny shred of something held her back. Not enough to stop her taking what she wanted but enough to change the way she took it. Connor…she still didn’t know how far he could be trusted.
And it takes a fuckload of trust to let someone restrain you.
Charlie moistened her lips then sank back against the cool floor. “I guess I’m yours to command.”
His eyes flashed, his nostrils flared. He covered her like a blanket of muscle.
“Good choice,” he growled and planted his mouth on hers.
He kissed her deep, gave her enough tongue to make her want more, yet
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