"Six," he says, wiping a towel over his face.
Images from the dream flood my mind, unbidden and overwhelming."No, stop it," I murmur.
"What did you say?"
"Oh...nothing.Let's begin."Focus on training, not on how good he looks right now.
"Okay, but first, let me change my tee."
Before I can prepare myself—or look away like a sane person would—he pulls the fabric up over his head.Oh sweet baby Jesus.My brain short-circuits at the sight of his bare torso.
I try to disengage my eyes, but they have a mind of their own.Through the mirror, I watch the play of muscles across his back, the way his shoulders flex as he moves.His body is a masterpiece that demands attention—sculpted abs, defined pecs, and a V-shape that makes my mouth go dry.If I were him, I'd never wear a shirt.
I'm rubbing my neck, trying to cool the heat rising there, when our eyes meet in the mirror.Busted.I drop my head so fast I nearly give myself whiplash, suddenly finding my perfectly tied shoelaces fascinating.
"Are you ready?"His voice has a rough edge to it that wasn't there before.
I glance up at his clean black shirt, grateful he's covered up but missing the view already."Yep, if you are.What did you have in mind?"
"Let's go over what I taught you last week.First, name the most vulnerable places on the body."
I raise my brow, trying to mask how his teacher voice affects me."Oh, are we back in school?"
He gives me that stern look that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.
"Fine," I huff."Eyes, nose, throat, chest, knees, and my favorite place," I say, wiggling my brows, "the groin."
A slight grin tugs at his lips before his hand shoots out to grab my wrist."How do you free it?"
His touch sends electricity racing up my arm, but my training kicks in.I rotate my arm to the side of his thumb and pull firmly.The movement breaks his grip.
"Well done.You're a quick learner."That pride in his voice shouldn't make me feel this warm inside.
"Yeah, so teach me something new."
"What I had planned is intense.Are you sure you're ready for that?"
"Oh, come on, I'm here for a reason, so show me, Bulldozer."
His eyes narrow at the nickname, something dark and hungry flashing in their depths."Stand with your back against the wall."
I frown but walk to the glass and do as he asks."And now?"My voice comes out breathier than intended.
My heart kicks into overdrive as he approaches, his voice dropping lower with each step."It often happens that an attacker tries to corner their victim or push them against a solid surface."
When he places his hands next to my shoulders, effectively caging me between his arms, my breath catches.The position mirrors my dream so perfectly it makes my head spin.His scent—that intoxicating mix of citrus and pure male—surrounds me, and suddenly the room feels too small, too hot, too everything.My body can't decide if it wants to lean in or run away, and that confusion is more dangerous than any fear I've felt before.
"W-What a-are you doing?"I stammer, fighting to keep my nerves under control.But it's not fear making my heart race this time—it's something far more dangerous.
Sensing my distress, he removes one hand and lifts my chin.His expression is dark and hungry, andholy hell, no man should have this much power over my body temperature.Get a grip, Alisha.
"Breathe, Alisha."His deep, warm voice wraps around me like a caress."Is it too much?"
"No, p-please."I touch his wrist, needing an anchor."I want to do this.Continue."
His eyes search mine for a long moment, like he's reading a story written there.Then he nods, replacing his hand beside my head."If both of the attacker's arms are up," he says, his voice professional but rougher than usual, "you can straighten your palm and hit him in the armpit."
I try to focus on the lesson, I really do.But how am I supposed to concentrate when he's this close?When every breath brings his scent deeper into my lungs?When his proximity is making my skin tingle like I've been struck by lightning?
