Page 34 of Vengeful Guard

“Could you teach me?”

Kael looks over at me, his eyebrows raising, ocean-blue eyes curious.

“You want to learn how to box?”

“I want to learn how to defend myself.” I lift my chin. Then my eyes go to the wall behind him. “Plus, you said you’d give me some exercise tips.”

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” Kael grins and throws the sandy hair hanging over his face back by jerking his head. “Fine. Come here.”

“What, now?”

“Why not? Have you got somewhere else to be?”

When I asked, I’m not sure if I was expecting him to accept. No going back now.

I walk slowly toward him, and he jerks his head.

“Stand in front of me.”

I do so, but he grunts and takes me by the hips, picking me up and placing me in a certain stance with my legs slightly spread.

His touch on the bare skin between my shirt and shorts makes goosebumps pop along my flesh.

I’ve never been touched like this before.

I should push him away. I should say “don’t touch me” and snap at him, not because his touch repels me, but because it doesn’t. It makes me wonder about things I shouldn’t be wondering about.

But I need to learn this.

This almost clinical touch shouldn’t make me think about what it would be like being touched by him in another context.

Except for a few stolen kisses and one feel-up at a friend’s house during seven minutes before Declan found me and dragged me home, I’ve never been with a guy. Never known what is like to be touched with want. With desire. To be wanted with so much passion that a mere touch brands the skin.

And I crave it.

But not by Kael. Never by him.

He’s the absolute worst!

This is just sexual frustration. Yes, that’s it. That’s all this weird attraction is.

“Put your hands up like this. Protect that pretty face.”

My eyes fly to him.

He thinks I’m pretty?

Stop it, Paige!

I shake myself off, wanting to shed whatever this is that has settled over me, and put my fists up like he said.

“Now loosen your fists. Palms open. Keep your hands relaxed but ready to use at all times.” He shows me how with his own.

I can’t take my eyes off his hands.

“The idea is that you stay as relaxed as possible so that your movements are fluid. If your fists are clenched, chances are that all your all body’s contracted, tense. And though that might not be a bad thing for a minute or two, after a few more minutes, you’ll feel it, and your stamina will hurt for it. So, if at all possible, you only create the fist when you’re about to throw it.”

I look at him dumbfounded.

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