Page 45 of Meet Cute or Your Money Back

I motion for her to come to me and stand on the mats. “First, we’re going to work on getting out of someone’s grip. If someone grabs you, the goal is to break free as fast as possible and get away. Break free…and get away,” I repeat. “Got it?”

She nods. “Got it.”

“Okay. I’m going to grab your wrist. I want you to pull away using the weakest point of my grip.”

“Which is…?”

“I’ll show you.” For a moment, she seems nervous. But quickly, a look of determination steels her hazel eyes andshe holds out her hand. The skin around her wrist is soft and warm, and I ignore the way it makes something in my chest tighten as I wrap my fingers around her.

“Now,” I say, voice gruffer than I intended, “yank your arm toward my thumb.”

She does. It’s weak. Ineffective. And lacks conviction.

I sigh. “You need to use more force. Like you mean it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

I snort. “Allie, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

Her eyes gleam with mischief. “Oh? That sounds like a challenge.”

Before I can react, she kicks me in the shin.

I grunt, more surprised than actually hurt. “Seriously?”

She grins. “Hey, if I was really getting attacked, I’d use whatever worked.”

I have to admit, she’s not wrong. “Except kicking your attacker in the shin while he’s still got a hold on you will probably piss him off. You don’t want to anger him. You want him to release you so you can run. Break free?—”

“—and get away. Yeah, yeah, I heard you.”

“Okay, smartass. Let’s try again.”

We go through a few more drills—how to block a punch, how to use her knee in a very strategic way that makes me cross my legs protectively just thinking about it. And then, I move behind her, locking my arms around her in a bear hug.

She freezes for half a second, and I feel the sharp intake of her breath against my chest. We’re pressed close, her back to my front, the heat of her body seeping into mine. This is supposed to be a lesson, but it feels suspiciously like an embrace. A different time, a different setting and it might be.

“Allie,” I murmur near her ear, “you need to break free.”

She shifts, but I keep my hold firm. “You’re supposed to be struggling,” I tease, my voice lower than I mean for it to be.

She exhales shakily. “I was just… I mean… I’mtrying.”

“Try harder.” I inhale her sweet scent, her soft hair brushing my face.

“I’m thinking. Strategizing.”

“You won’t have time to strategize when you’re in the midst of an attack. Thinking won’t get you out of an attacker’s grip.”

She tilts her head back slightly, her cheek brushing my jaw, and a slow, shivery sigh escapes her lips. I feel it against my skin, warm and unsteady, and it sends a bolt of heat straight through me.

“Allie,” I warn.

Her breath hitches causing her breasts to press against my forearm. “Hmm?” she moans, the sound low and sexy. She smells like vanilla and something sweet, like cinnamon sugar and temptation, and I’m momentarily dizzy from it. My grip tightens—not to restrain, not to teach, but because some primal part of me doesn’t want to let go.

I’m growing hard and I fight the urge to press myself against the soft swell of her ass. But I don’t have to because she melts into me, her body pinning against me just a fraction closer, and for a second, I swear she pushes her hips back to brush my erection. A groan escapes from my clenched jaw.

It’s just training. Just a lesson. But it doesn’t feel like one. It feels like something I should not want as badly as I do. This is dangerous. This is reckless.

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