She added in some footwork, leading them in a dance within the confined space of the hotel room as they traded light strikes back and forth. Her blood started flowing and her muscles warmed up. It felt good.
As she threw another cross, Kyle changed up the game by trapping her wrist in a move she hadn’t seen before.
“Not bad.” She recovered and caught his own follow-up strike in a move of her own, twisting as she did to throw him off balance.
Warm-ups were over and it looked like they were both ready to have some fun.
“You have been going easy on me.” Kyle’s words came smoothly, with no sign of overexertion.
She wasn’t surprised though. He’d been keeping himself in good shape. Conversation during a workout was one way to monitor your partner’s status. If they were breathing too hard, overheating and out of breath, then it was time to slow down and cool off.
But Kyle’s breathing was good. Even though a healthy, fine sheen of sweat was starting to show across his brow, he was most definitely ready to up the intensity.
So she did, adding in a low kick to force him out to medium range and following up with an outside slanted kick to the thigh. She was careful to make it a tap and not a real kick.
He ended up taking the second kick rather than dodging, but he’d zoned to his right to reduce the force of the impact and threw a punch to force her to block instead of going for what would’ve been his momentarily weakened leg in a real fight.
“Nice,” she admitted it. Only a few minutes in and he was showing better sense than most.
They picked up the tempo, exchanging hand strikes interspersed with kicks as they circled each other in the small space of the room. They kept contact light but increased the intensity and speed as they went.
He was good, clean, keeping his guard up and his movement efficient.
“You tend toward defense.” She jabbed to force him to guard his handsome face then drove a knee toward his belly.
He only managed a partial block and grunted as her knee contacted with his abs but otherwise shook it off without a problem, driving an elbow toward her throat.
“My training is mostly for self-defense.” He huffed. She was making him work for it now. “And I find I get too hotheaded when I go on the offense. I make mistakes.”
“Fighting safe can be wise.” Sometimes. She’d give him that. Not always though. There’d been places, times, when speed and decisiveness meant she and her team survived. “And it’s fine for stuff like this. But let it go on too long and you’re more likely to lose.”
He shot a low kick at her and closed the distance faster than he’d done so far, lashing out with a right cross. His longer reach gave him an advantage and it would’ve been a great move if she hadn’t been expecting it.
As it was, she slipped to the side just enough for his punch to whisper past her face. Then she raised her shoulder, pushing her cheekbone to her shoulder to capture and tuck his fist against the curve of her neck.
Kyle started to pull back in surprise.
Perfect.
She stepped forward inside his guard and put her left foot behind his right. Seeing her coming forward, he instinctively tried to step back and get his guard back up.
Nope.
She caught his ankle in an ashi harai, driving him backward and down toward where he expected his foot to be bracing his back-step. Tall as he was, he relied on his solid stance to keep his footing too much.
Instead, she threw her right arm up between the two of them and quickly swung it around in an exterior loop to place his still-retracting arm into an under armpit lock. He lost his balance and toppled, taking her with him. Which was fine.
She landed heavily on top of him, forcing grunts out of the both of them. Somehow, she wasn’t even going to mind the bruises. This was more fun than she’d had in a while.
“Minx.” He was breathless now and still a little stunned.
The clothes around her throat tightened as his left hand took hold, and he pivoted his hips under her. Throwing his left leg up, she found herself in the beginning of a triangle hold.
Really?
She got her feet under her and heaved herself—and him—up until she was half-standing and slammed him back on the ground. He loosened his hold. Pivoting to her right, she released his right arm so she could get into position to secure an arm bar on his left.
Before she could manage it, he rotated on top of her. “No you don’t.”
She half snarled, half giggled. “Yes, I do.”
And she blocked his right knee with her leg, raising her hips, placing the ball of her right foot on the ground near his other knee and pushing with her right. As he came off the floor, she pulled him to the left to continue the momentum of the roll...
...and landed on top of him.
He chuckled and repeated the move right back on her, rolling them even farther until they both hit the wall, laughing.
She buried her fingers into his hair and his hands gripped the back of her neck.