Her confidence had grown to the point that now that she was entering the gym where Kit was already waiting, she didn’t feel that same level of trepidation she had before she’d begun sparring with Aidra.
Luna wasn’t sure where he had disappeared to over the last few weeks, but she was a little glad he was back.
There were a set of bars bolted just above him, his taped hands wrapped tight around them as he both lifted and dropped his weight, the muscles in his arms and back straining with the movement. It took careful control, she knew, the way he measured out the seconds, twisting his torso from left to right before he finally dropped to his feet, turning back to face her.
She shouldn’t have noticed the sweat dripping from his torso, or even the way those muscles flexed as he pushed his hair back out of his face.
She shouldn’t have noticed anything about him, but that didn’t stop her from drinking him in.
Kit wasn’t shy about his own perusal, his gaze trailing over her in that languid way of his that felt quite blatant.
What did he see when he looked at her?
Grabbing a towel from a stack of them, he wiped it over his face before tossing it aside. “Are you ready?”
Were they going to spar? And if they were, was he going to remain like … that? He was almost naked, and the second that realization hit her, she was picturing what he might look like completely free of his clothes.
Mouth suddenly dry, Luna nodded, forcing bare feet one after the other until she was on the floor opposite him.
“Sometimes, weapons aren’t readily available, and in the likely chance that you have to get out of a situation by yourself, you’ll need to know how to handle yourself accordingly.”
“That’s what Aidra told me.”
And that was what they’d been working on for weeks now.
“Yes, but the likelihood of you going up against a man is far greater, and training with one will prepare you for what to expect.”
“So I’m going to be fighting you?” she asked.
“Unless you would prefer Fang,” he said dryly, pulling a roll of tape from his pockets.
“Not really,” she muttered even as she extended her hands for him to apply the tape how he’d done his own.
“This once, I’ll go easy on you. Your goal is to strike me at least once.”
“Only once?” she asked, not thinking that it would be too difficult to accomplish that. Even if by accident, she figured she could hit him one time.
A corner of his mouth curled up, his expression amused. “Let’s see if you can manage that.”
When he finished, Kit tossed the tape off to the side. He crossed to the middle of the floor, crooking his fingers at her as if to say, ‘come on.’
Her first instinct as she flexed her hands was to strike immediately, to catch him unaware, but she could tell from the slight tension in his shoulders that he was expecting just that.
Instead, she remained where she was, trying to guess her best method of attack.
But she had never seen Kit fight, so the likelihood of her knowing how he would strike was low—the only way she could learn was to study his movements.
“The clock is ticking, Luna.”
Gritting her teeth, she walked slowly, carefully, until she was nearly upon him before bracing back on her heels.
It was now or never.
She threw a jab, one he immediately caught with a hand wrapped around her fist, but she pulled free, attempting again.
This, too, he deflected.
She tried again, angling her body differently, trying to stay light on her feet, but no matter how she struck, she never made contact.
This time, when he caught another of her punches, he jerked her forward with a frown. “Is that the best you can do?” Shaking his head, he pressed his palm to the center of her chest and pushed, sending her back a few steps. “You’d be dead before you could blink.”
Sweat had begun to bead on her forehead as she stared at him, embarrassment and desperation filling her. It didn’t help that she was nearly out of breath and he still appeared unaffected.
“Where’s your fight?” he asked taunting her—goading her to try again.
She didn’t have an answer for him, though that annoyed her too. They both knew he was better at this than her, he’d had years of training.
Compared to that, she was a novice.
But Kit didn’t accept her silence as an answer.
Before she could see it coming, he swept a leg out, knocking her feet out from under her. Air exploded from her lungs as she hit the mat harder than she ever had before, the pain radiating outward. She didn’t even have the chance to recover before he was on top of her, capturing both of her wrists with his hands and pinning them to the ground above her head.
“Is this the best you can do?” he asked again, a strange inflection in his tone that hadn’t been present before. “I thought more of you.”
His words were punctuated with a slight squeeze of his hands, his words low and harsh as though he was disappointed in her.
His hips were wedged between her legs, his body rock hard and brimming with tension. Even as she struggled beneath him attempting to free herself, he remained firmly in place.