Page 62 of Knot Beneath the Mistletoe

I should step back. Should put space between us and continue the lesson. Should not drag my nose along the curve of her neck, breathing in her scent. Should definitely not press my lips to her thundering pulse.

“Like pin you to that wall.” The words rumble out of me. “Like lift you up and wrap those gorgeous legs around my waist. Like kiss you until you forget every damn thing that worries you.”

She shivers. “That’s... not very professional of you, Mr. Chase.”

“Neither is coming to my gym purposefully rubbing yourself against me like sin itself, Ms. Winters.”

She turns in my arms, and suddenly, we’re face to face again, her hands sliding up my chest. “I think,”—her fingers trace my collarbone—“we should probably get back to the lesson.”

“Most likely,” I agree, but my hands are already spanning her waist.

“Because I came here to learn self-defense.” Her gazes drop to my lips.

“Absolutely.” I walk her backward to the wall.

“And you’re supposed to be teaching me.” Her back hits the padding with a soft thud.

“I am teaching you.” My hands slide down to her hips. “I’m teaching you exactly what happens when you tempt an Alpha.”

At the last second, Ruby ducks under my arm and dances away, leaving me bracing against the wall, desire and frustration warring in my gut. Her laugh is pure temptation.

“Now, who’s being unprofessional?” She backs toward the center of the mat, eyes sparkling with desire. “I thought you were going to teach me self-defense, not how to drive an Alpha crazy.”

“Seems to me you’ve already mastered that latter part.” I turn slowly, tracking her movement. She’s practically bouncing on her toes, all fluid grace and curved smiles. Everything in me wants to chase her, catch her, and?—

“You coming?” she taunts, and fuck if that doesn’t drive me wild.

I move faster than she expects and swing around to stand behind her in seconds. My arm loops around her waist, pulling her back against my chest.

“Rule one,” I growl in her ear. “Never turn your back on an opponent.”

“I didn’t.” She tries the move I taught her—dropping her weight, going for the spin-out—but she loses her balance, starting to fall, and instinct takes over. I grab her, turning so I take the impact as we hit the mat. She lands on top of me, facing me, with a surprisedoof, her hair falling around us like a curtain.

Her laugh vibrates through me. “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”

“I don’t know.” My hands find her hips, holding her in place. “Seems pretty perfect from where I’m lying.”

She pushes up slightly, bracing her hands on my chest, but doesn’t try to move away. “You did that on purpose.”

“Protecting my student from injury? That’s literally my job.”

“Mm-hmm.” She shifts, and the friction makes me grit my teeth. “Your hands seem to be wandering from strictly professional territory.”

They are. My thumbs have slipped under the hem of her tank top, stroking the soft skin of her waist.

“You complaining?”

“Not yet.” Her eyes are darkening, pupils blown wide. “But I should probably mention that I have a thing about men in positions of authority.”

I raise an eyebrow. “A good thing or a bad thing?”

“Depends.” She leans down, her lips brushing my jaw. “How do you feel about difficult students?”

Christ. “Ruby...” It’s meant to be a warning, but it comes out like a plea.

“Yes, Mr. Chase?” Her teeth graze my earlobe, and my control snaps.

I roll us, pinning her beneath me. Her gasp of surprise turns into a moan as I capture her mouth, kissing her hard and deep. Her hands slide into my hair, nails scraping my scalp, and I growl into the kiss. She tastes like desire, and I can’t get enough.

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