Playing Dirty

“Now what?” he asked, his mouth at my ear.

Oh yeah. Self-defense. My mind was blank, unable to think of a single thing he’d taught me.

“Um, I-I’m not sure,” I stammered.

“Move into the attack,” he reiterated. “Remember? Put your hands here and you want to jerk your head back into mine.”

I couldn’t even concentrate on what he was saying, just let him put my hands where I was supposed to, then went through the motions as he talked me through it. If he noticed my sudden quiet, he didn’t mention it, repeating the hold and moves until I wanted to yell at him to stop touching me. But it seemed I was the only one the close proximity was affecting, because he carried on as if nothing were amiss.

“And it’s not,” I muttered to myself. “Get a grip.”

“What did you say?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said brightly. “Just … memorizing the moves.”

I didn’t think it could get worse. I was wrong.

“Okay, so let’s go over how to escape the classic rape scenario,” he said.

“Wh-what?” I squeaked.

He looked at me funny. “Most women want to know this move first,” he said. “It’s usually their biggest fear. Trust me, you want to learn it.”

“Um, yeah, sure, okay.”

Parker pulled me down onto the mat, urging me to lie on my back, feet on the floor and knees bent and spread as he crouched between my legs. Hooking his arms behind my knees, he pulled me closer so our lower bodies fit snugly together.

Holy Mary Mother of God.

Get a grip. Get a grip. Get a grip.

The mantra repeated inside my head. This was just Parker being helpful. This was not sexual. Just like painting the toes. Not sexual.

I only wished I could tell my body that because wow, was it ever throwing a party at being in this position. My heart was racing and heat curled low in my belly as Parker braced himself above me, leaning down until our chests were almost touching.

“If someone is going to rape you,” he said, “this is how they’ll be. Close and in your face. There won’t be much space between you.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. It was all I could do not to wrap my legs around his waist, for crying out loud. Which would be bad bad bad.

“So here’s what you’ll do,” he began. “Twist your hips to the side and leave the opposite foot on the floor. The other foot is going to go on my hip.” He put his hands on my hips and legs, twisting me to show me what I should do. I forced my mind to concentrate. “Once you have some space, kick with your feet. Aim for the chin. It doesn’t matter how big the guy is, you nail him under the chin, he’s going down. Trust me.”

He moved my hands. “If you can, lock your elbows and put your hands on my shoulders. Not my chest, but my shoulders.”

Parker’s shoulders were wide and hard underneath my palms. His body was wedged between my thighs and I could feel parts of him I shouldn’t nestled against parts of me that were barely covered by my too-small shorts.

“Now lock your elbows,” he said. “Or else I can just overpower you, like this.” He pushed against me until my arms gave out and his chest rested against mine.

Our gazes caught and I couldn’t look away, their blue so deep and clear and framed by thick lashes I’d kill for.

He froze, too. Against my will, my body relaxed, sending a message I had no business sending. My hips cradled his and my hands on his shoulders drifted to his arms, the biceps hard and flexed underneath my fingers. His response was immediate, pressing between my legs against my core. Arousal had danced in my veins since we’d started this whole thing, and now it flared to life.

“You’re not fighting me,” he said in a low voice.

I scrambled for what to say. “I, um, I guess I’m just tired.” Which would’ve been a totally valid excuse … if my voice hadn’t sounded take-me-to-bed-or-lose-me-forever.

Parker’s eyes darkened and his gaze dropped to my mouth. He was hard between my legs and I was enjoying the feel of him way too much.

“We should go,” I blurted. “Or we’ll be late to that-that fundraiser … thing.”

His eyes met mine again and for a moment he didn’t respond. Then he was suddenly on his feet and pulling me up off the floor in one smooth move.

“I’m going to shower,” he said. “My tux is in the car. I’ll change at your place. Give me ten minutes, okay? Don’t go anywhere without me.”

My head was spinning from the abrupt change in topic and what had just happened. “Um, yeah, okay.”

He waited a beat, his eyes searching mine for … I didn’t know what. I smiled brightly.

“Thanks for the lesson, by the way,” I said. “It was, uh, really helpful. I hope I never have to use any of that stuff.” I gave a halfhearted laugh.

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