Page 21 of Rescuing Sophia

Walt steps in, guiding me through a couple more moves. His hands are firm yet gentle as he positions my arms and adjusts my stance, bringing us closer.

“Good, now try this.” Walt demonstrates a throw, stepping in close. His chest brushes against my back as he shows me the movement.

Blake steps forward, eyes blazing with possessive jealousy. Without a word, he physically separates us with a light shove, his presence dominating.

“Walt, stop being an asshole. If anyone trains her, it’s going to be me.” A hint of a grin plays at the corners of Blake’s mouth, but the intensity in his gaze leaves no doubt about his feelings.

“All yours, brother.” Walt raises his hands, feigning surrender, stepping back with a laugh.

Blake takes Walt’s place, his body so close that the heat radiates off him. His voice is low and intense.

“Let’s work on some throws.” His hands grip my shoulders firmly, guiding me through the motions with precision and care.

The room fills with the men’s banter and camaraderie. Their support and good-natured teasing create a surprisingly comforting environment. Despite the intensity of the training, a sense of belonging begins to take root within me.

Blake’s hands on my hips send a jolt through me, like a live wire sparking to life. His touch is firm and commanding, a noticeable difference from Walt’s calculated guidance. Every movement we make together is charged with a raw, kinetic energy that reverberates through me, intensifying our connection.

As we move, Blake’s strength complements my agility, and the rhythm of our synchronized steps feels natural. Each successful throw earns a murmur of approval from him, his voice a deep, resonant timbre that sends warmth blooming in my chest. The heat mingles with the electric sensation, creating a potent mix of exhilaration and desire.

“You’re a natural.” His breath is hot against my ear.

“I have a good teacher.” I turn to face him, our bodies mere inches apart.

Something flashes in Blake’s eyes—a potent blend of desire and frustration—but then he steps back and clears his throat.

“Let’s try that again. This time, I’ll be the attacker.”

He lunges at me, his movements deliberately slow. I react on instinct, using the techniques he just taught me. The world narrows to just us—the feel of his body against mine, the sound of our labored breathing, the faint scent of his sweat mingling with mine.

I sweep Blake’s legs out from under him in a move that surprises us both. He goes down hard, pulling me with him. We land in a tangle of limbs, my body pressed flush against his.

For a moment, we’re frozen, staring into each other’s eyes. I’m acutely aware of every point of contact between us—his muscled chest heaving against mine, his powerful thighs tangled with my own. The press of his hard length against my belly.

The air is charged, electric. Blake’s pupils dilate, and his breathing slows. His grip on my waist tightens slightly, and for a heartbeat, I think he might pull me in for a kiss.

“Nice move.” His voice is rough and thick, while his gaze fills with desire.

I allow myself a small, victorious smile as a shiver ripples down my spine.

Someone clears their throat nearby, breaking the spell. It’s Ethan, looking down at us with amusement.

“I think that’s enough fiddling around for today, lovebirds.” He extends a hand to help me up.

As I get to my feet, I catch the poorly concealed smirks of the other team members. They’re clearly relishing the sight of Blakebeing taken down a peg, their barely restrained laughter hinting at the teasing he’s bound to face later.

Heat rises to my cheeks, but I lift my chin, refusing to let embarrassment take hold.

“Thanks for the lesson.” I look at Blake, who’s now standing and pointedly avoiding my gaze.

“Anytime.” He runs a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, his expression carefully neutral.

The team disperses, heading for the showers, their voices carrying playful taunts.

“Man, you’ve got it bad.” Rigel claps Blake on the shoulder, giving him a little shake.

“Never seen you so distracted, Blake.” Hank smirks, glancing between us.

“Guess we know who the real knockout is here.” Walt winks at me, a playful smile filling his face.

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