Page 24 of Her Outlaw Prisoner
She looks up at me, her expression softening. “That’s not your responsibility.”
“Isn’t it?”
For a second, we just stare at each other. The tension between us pulls taut, thick with everything unsaid.
Then I lean in closer, close enough that her breath catches. “What do I have to do to get through to you, baby?”
Her lips part. “You’re already under my skin, Ronan. That’s the problem.”
I grin, slow and dangerous. “Then maybe I should stay there.”
She laughs, breathy and flustered. “You’re impossible.”
“You love it.”
She doesn’t deny it. Just rolls her eyes again, a fond smile tugging at her lips. She steps back, giving herself space from me like distance will make this easier. It won’t.
“You ever learned any self-defense?” I ask, watching her carefully.
She frowns. “Not really. I mean, there was a workshop in college once, but I barely remember anything.”
Figures. She’s got so much fire in her, but she’s not trained to protect it.
I slide off the table and close the distance between us, slow, deliberate. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t move.
“Let me teach you.”
Her brows lift. “Now?”
“I don’t exactly have a packed schedule,” I say with a crooked grin. “We’ve got extra time today. Besides, you’re already here, and I can’t let you keep walking around unarmed in that neighborhood.”
She hesitates. “You think I’m in danger, don’t you?”
I think a lot of things. But I only nod. “I think knowing how to defend yourself can’t hurt.”
She sighs and pulls her hair up into a messy knot. “Fine. Teach me something.”
I step behind her, my chest brushing her back, and gently take her wrist in my hand. She stiffens slightly, then relaxes as I guide her arms into position.
“If someone grabs you from behind, what do you do?” I murmur, voice low against her ear.
“Um…” she starts, breathless already.
“You shift your weight, lower your center of gravity—like this.” I adjust her stance, hands lingering on her hips longer than strictly necessary. “Then you slam your elbow into their ribs. Hard.” I mimic the motion with her arm, slow and deliberate, her body pressed against mine.
She lets out a shaky laugh. “I feel like this is less about self-defense and more about getting me flustered.”
“Flustered is a side effect,” I say, letting my lips brush the curve of her neck, just once. “But the lesson’s real.”
She turns to face me, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. “You’re not playing fair.”
“I never claimed to.”
I grab her wrist again, pulling her closer, our chests nearly touching. “If I were your attacker,” I whisper, “what would you do now?”
Her gaze flickers to my mouth. “Knee you in the balls?”
I laugh. “Tempting, but not sexy.”
