Page 9 of My Special Ops Neighbor
Yvette tried the movement, but her technique was sloppy because half her attention was focused on studying his grip strength the way she analyzed data encryption, looking for weaknesses in the system. "In cyber security, we call it finding the exploit," she said. "Every system has vulnerabilities if you know how to look for them."
"Again," he said, repositioning her arm. This time his other hand came to rest on her lower back, ostensibly to guide her movement. "Don't think so much. Feel what your body wants to do."
The second attempt was better, but she still didn't break his grip completely. Now half her attention was focused on the way his muscles flexed as he held her.
"You're holding back," he observed, stepping behind her now. "In a real situation, someone grabs you because they mean you harm. You can't be polite about getting away."
His chest pressed against her back as he reached around to position her arms correctly, and her breath caught. Yvette could feel every ridge of muscle through his thin tank top, could feel the strength in the way he moved her body into the proper stance.
"Try again," he murmured near her ear, his breath warm against her neck. "This time, don't hold back."
She executed the move with more force, breaking free of his grip cleanly. But instead of stepping away, Yvette found herself turning to face him, suddenly aware that they were standing much too close.
"Better," he said. "Much better."
"What's next?" she asked, surprised by how breathless she sounded.
"Bear hug defense. This one requires closer contact."
Before Yvette could process what that meant, his arms came around her from behind, not tight enough to hurt but secure enough that she couldn't easily break free. The position pressed her back against his chest, and she could feel every inch of him. The solid wall of muscle, the hardness, the way his heart was beating just a little too fast.
"Feel how I'm holding you?" His voice was rough velvet against her ear. "Most attackers will squeeze tighter, but the principle is the same. You need to drop your weight and create space."
She tried to focus on his instruction, but her body was responding to entirely different stimuli. The way his forearms pressed across her ribcage just below her breasts. The way his chin nearly touched her shoulder. The way she could feel his breathing change when she moved in his arms.
"It's like breaking through firewall protocols." Yvette tried to force her mind back to business. "You don't attack the strongest point. You find the system's inherent weaknesses and exploit them."
"Drop your hips," he instructed, his voice noticeably huskier. "Use gravity to your advantage."
She tried the technique, but the movement pressed her more firmly against him, and she heard his sharp intake of breath. Her own breaths were becoming unsteady as awareness coursed through her. Awareness of how perfectly she fit against him, how right this felt despite the training context.
"Good," he said, but his voice was strained. "Now drive your elbow back into my ribs."
Yvette executed the movement slowly, not wanting to actually hurt him, but the motion made her hip brush against his and she felt his whole body tense.
"Harder," he instructed, his arms tightening involuntarily around her. "In a real situation—"
"Vincent," she interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper.
He went completely still behind her. "Yeah?"
"I think you should let me go."
"Why?"
"Because if you don't, I'm going to do something that has nothing to do with self-defense training."
For a moment, neither of them moved. Yvette could feel the tension radiating through his body, could feel the war between his professional control and something much more primal. His arms loosened slightly, but he didn't step away.
"Yvette..." he warned.
She turned in his arms, which was a mistake because now they were face to face, his hands settling automatically on her waist. "I spend my days breaking into secure financial networks, cracking encryption that's supposed to be unbreakable. I'm used to being the person who sees through deception, who finds the truth hidden in layers of digital obfuscation." She looked up at him. "But with you, I don't need to look for hidden truths. Everything about you is exactly what it appears to be."
"We should continue with the lesson," he said, but his hands tightened on her waist instead of releasing her.
"Should we?" Her own hands had somehow ended up on his chest, and she could feel his heart hammering beneath her palms.
"You need to know how to defend yourself," he said, but he was leaning closer as he spoke, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
