Page 40 of All Twerk, No Play

"Dangerous Woman," Ariana Grande

Cruz

“Youwanttoteachme self-defense? Now?” She gestured to her formal suit. “I’m not exactly dressed for it.”

I lifted my hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry, Mr. Assailant, I know my Lou-is Vit-on bag would cover your rent, but can we reschedule for Tuesday?”

She laughed, not trying to hide it for once. “Let’s call it a preview of your incubator observation.”

Oh man, I hadn’t expected her to agree. This was awesome. I leaped up to standing and held out a hand to help her up. She brushed off her pencil skirt and started to slide on her heels.

“Shoes off,” I said.

“In your scenario, I’d be wearing them.”

“Yes, but I want to train you on flat feet so you get used to how your hips should move. Heels tilt your pelvis forward,” I hovered my hands over her hip bones, “and if you don’t adjust for it, it might lead to a pinching feeling in your lower back.” She shifted her hips back, and the line of her mouth softened. She respectfully placed her heels beside her briefcase.

“Blazer too.”

Her eyebrow lifted to ask, ‘Are you trying to get me naked?’

“Wouldn’t want you to sweat through it.”

She begrudgingly shed the jacket, revealing a crisp white blouse. She was already sweating from 20 minutes in a closed elevator, and through the shirt I could see the outline of her nude bra.

I averted my gaze and lifted my fists. She mirrored my stance.

“Okay, normally I start with the basics: know your surroundings, trust your instincts, speak confidently—not that you’ve ever had a problem with that,” I said and she grinned. “Don’t try to be a hero. If you can run, run. Of course, none of that helps in forced proximity.” I gestured around our metal death trap. “Know your opponent’s weaknesses: eyes, nose, throat, ribs, groin, knees, toes …”

“Head, shoulders, knees and toes,” she said in the cadence without the melody. God, wouldn’t she just sing for me?

“Replace ‘shoulders’ with ‘junk’ and you’re onto something,” I smirked. “When I teach class I wear a cup, but I wasn’t exactly expecting this, so I’m going to politely ask younotto knee me in the balls. Fair?”

“I can restrain the urge for a few more minutes,” she said, looking up with a gleam in her eye. Without her heels, she was a few inches shorter than me. I usually liked that glare straight-on, but looking down made her seem more vulnerable, stirring the urge to protect her.

Or even better: Teach her to protect herself.

I took her wrist. “Twist toward my thumb, it’s the weakest part of the grip.”

She tugged down instead of twisting. I guided her hand, trying not to fixate on the dusting of freckles on her wrist.

Her determined expression showed her desire for security, but she moved stiffly, like instead of listening to her body, she could override adrenaline with a checklist.

“Once your wrist is free, protect yourself. Jab up sharply with the heel of your palm. Aim for my nose or chin.”

Her palm made contact with my jaw, fingers lingering on my beard.

“You’re petting your attacker?”

“I forgot how soft it is,” she murmured, reluctantly pulling back.

“When you’re done fondling your assailant,” I said, and she bit her lip—god, that fucking lip, “recoil your strike to snap my head back.”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know how to take it.” When she didn’t budge, I said, “If you break my nose, the fire department will move us up the priority list.”

She tried to scowl, but her eyes twinkled with amusement.

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