Bringing both fists to my chest, I take a measured step forward then shift my weight onto my left leg. My right flies forward in a powerful kick, slamming the ball of my foot into the bag.
“That’s it.” Axel nods, watching my tight form. “Nice.”
After landing several hard kicks, I lunge forward to punch the bag again, landing a rapid combo. Every time the leather kisses my aching skin, the relief increases exponentially.
His head peeking around the bag, Axel appraises me. “Feel good?”
“More.”
“Fuck yeah. I love watching you move like that.”
Stopping for a breath, a dark-purple blur streaks across the room before it crashes into me. The momentum propels me backwards until I land sprawled across the office carpet.
“Axel!”
“What, dimples?” He rolls us so he’s braced above me. “Can’t take a real person?”
“You’re fucking insane!”
“Meh. Old news.”
Bucking my hips, he lurches sideways before I punch him in the gut. Axel grunts in pain, bracing a hand on my right side to stop himself from sliding off my body.
“Get off me!”
“Make me,” he taunts.
“What the hell are you on?”
“I said make me! Fight back!”
Hitting him again, I aim higher to punch him in the patterned sun rays that cover his throat. Axel chokes on a laugh, the sound cut off by his hissing breaths.
His hand flashes out, seizing a handful of my braid. Pain races across my scalp from the harsh tug. The crazy asshole is pulling my hair. Oh, I’m going to fucking kill him.
“Come on!” he goads.
We trade fast blows—my fist connecting with his ridged abdominals, his fingers twisting my hair until tears prick at my eyes, our bodies thrashing and smacking together.
We’re evenly matched as he meets my ferocity blow for blow. I suspect he’s holding back because each time I think I’m getting the edge on him, he deftly cuts off my next move.
When his forehead smacks into mine, causing my teeth to clang together, I see stars for a few seconds. Then I hit back, managing to punch his round jaw hard enough for him to curse.
Rolling us over, I’ve stolen the advantage when Axel comes to his senses and quickly flips us back to our original position. He has more muscle mass than me, though not by much.
“You’re decent,” Axel tries to antagonise me. “But I expected better.”
“You wouldn’t survive my best, dickhead.”
“Oh, ho. Fighting talk.”
“You bet.”
If I had a weapon, I’d be driving it into his throat right about now. I’ll have to settle for fighting dirty instead.
Writhing beneath him again, I force his body to rise up long enough to expose his denim-covered crotch. My knee lifts rapidly, slamming between his legs.
“Bitch.” Axel’s eyes bug out comically.
