Page 136 of Twisted Ties
“Would you just shut up for one micro-second and listen?”
I harrumph, resting my hand on my hip and giving him my best deathly stare.
“You’ve been trying to meet me head on, trying to fight me as an equal,” he continues, ignoring my look. “I’m much bigger than you.” His eyes meander down my body and that hum in my stomach grows more violent. “That’s never going to work.”
“Then what should I be doing?” I ask in irritation.
“I’m coming to that,” he snaps back. Then takes an inhale like he’s trying to regain his calm. “You need to use my size and my weight against me. Use it to your advantage.You’re lighter than me, more nimble, quicker. Get me off my balance and, whatever you do, don’t let me …” he swallows, “get a hold of you.”
I remember his lips on mine, his hand around my throat and I’m forced to look away from him.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask. “Why the change of heart?”
“Renzo Barone.”
I don’t think that answers my question. What does he care if Barone is chasing me? What does he care if the assassin slits my throat?
“How do I get you off your balance?”
“I can show you a few moves, little things you can use. Come here.” He beckons towards me and my feet take me to the center of the mat where he is waiting.
His gaze does that thing down my body again, although this time he’s much closer and I can smell his scent, feel the heat of his body.
He reaches out and takes a fistful of my shirt.
“I thought I wasn’t meant to let you get a hold of me.”
“I’m showing you the move. Ready?”
“Yes.”
“When I’m lunging for you like this, my weight is all forward. Use that to your advantage. Twist to the side and then slam me down.”
“I’ve tried that a million times,” I mutter. “You always end up on top of me.”
“Your timing’s off. You always move too soon, always signal to me what you’re going to try. Wait until I’m committed. Until I have no chance of righting my balance. Okay?” I nod. “Let’s go then.”
With his grip on my shirt, he lunges toward me. I repress the urge to wriggle free and let myself begin to topple,taking him down with me. Then at the very last minute, I yank away, rolling across the mat and letting Spencer land face down on the ground.
I can’t help a little yelp of triumph, before jumping onto his back.
“Got you!” I say.
He twists his head to peer at me.
“I don’t think so, Pig Girl,” he says, all of a sudden turning his body, grabbing my waist and rolling us over, pinning me onto the mat with his vast body.
“Asshole,” I mutter.
He grins, his face millimeters from mine. We’ve been here a million times before. His weight pressing me down into the ground. His grip tight on my body.
His eyes drift down to my mouth. Then he frowns.
“That was a stupid move on your part. Stop trying to fight someone so much bigger than you. If I’m flat on my back, you strike me, take me out. Either that, or you run like hell. You don’t climb on top of me.”
“Right,” I say, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
He goes to roll off me but I grab onto his bicep.
