Page 60 of 4th Degree

My lip twitches at her adorable expression. I return my hand to her hair, focusing on the strands flowing between my fingers as I explain.

“When you’re a fighter, when you want to be the best fighter, you have to be selfish. Selfish with your training, selfish with your time, selfish with everything. Your entire world revolves around fighting.” I sigh. “It’s a really bad quality for a husband.”

Skylar’s forehead smooths out slightly. “So…you got divorced during your career? Because of your career?”

I nod. “I don’t blame her for leaving. Regardless of the fact that we weren’t a good fit, no one should feel like they come second to anything in their marriage.”

“Have you dated anyone since?” she asks, absentmindedly rubbing circles on my leg.

“Not really,” I admit. “Nothing’s ever felt as fulfilling as fighting.”

Until now.

I don’t say that out loud, of course. Not just because I know Skylar doesn’t feel the same, but also because Skylar being the thing I finally like as much as fighting is too complicated to wrap my head around.

I can’t tell if she reads it in my eyes, though. Because after holding my gaze for a moment, her attention drops down to my mouth, her tongue swiping across her lower lip and immediately making blood rush to my cock.

But she doesn’t initiate a kiss. Instead, she hurriedly looks back to the fight, and then promptly reaches for my ankle.

“Why haven’t I done leg locks in class, yet?” she asks, wrapping her arm around my leg. “I feel like I’m at a disadvantage when I’m rolling with the higher belts.”

I chuckle at her eagerness. “Because I don’t trust white belts to not break other people’s legs.”

Her gasp is outraged. “I’m offended. Show me right now, I’ll prove you wrong.”

My eyebrow rises. “Putting my legs in your hands seems like a worse idea than putting my life in them.”

She sends me a glare and pokes my foot in impatience. “Just show me.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Turn to face me. I’ll show you a straight ankle lock.”

She scoots to follow my instructions. The position change causes Brutus to have to move, which he does—with a humph. As soon as he plods to the other end of the couch, Skylar settles by my legs like I asked.

I lift one leg and drape it over her lap. “Okay, now wrap your arm around my ankle and grab your other hand at your chest. Your wrist should be against my heel. You’re going to pull your hands up toward your chin, raising my foot as much as possible, and then you’re going to lean back to put pressure on the arch of my foot.”

Slowly and methodically, she follows my instructions. She goes through each step one by one, until she’s finishing the submission.

“Tighten your hold on my leg. That’s it, now lean back and stretch out my foot.” I wait for the telltale ankle pain, then tap against her leg. “There you go, now you know ankle locks.”

She stares in wonder at my foot, which just brings a smile to my face. And now I want to kiss her again.

“How would you get out of this?” she asks.

“I would try to stand up and put weight on my foot so you couldn’t bend it.”

But instead of doing that, I jerk my leg back toward my chest. Since she still has her arm wrapped around my ankle, she jerks forward with it. And as soon as she lands on my chest, her hands bracing against me, I wrap my arms around her waist to hold her in place.

She lets out a startled gasp at the sudden proximity. Almost immediately, her eyes darken with lust and drop to my lips.

Leaning forward, I close the distance between us and take her mouth in the way that tells her exactly how eager I am for her taste.

Once she’s panting for breath, I slow the kiss, lazily swiping my tongue along her bottom lip. When I let her go, she gasps out, “I don’t think that’s a legal ankle lock defense.”

I bark out a laugh at that. “Strictly speaking, you’re right. I don’t want to see you using it in class.”

She lets out a dazed sound of agreement, her focus on my mouth again.

And when I kiss her this time, I can’t decide which I like better: her taste, or…her.

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