Page 49 of Sunflower Persona
“Okay, I definitely deserved it.”
“That’s more like it.” Her smile breaks through completely as she sasses me.
Like a fucking sharpshooter, that look pierces straight into my chest, making my heart ache in a way that isn’t actually unpleasant. I cough away the feeling and focus on the wall over her head. There is no way I’ll be able to get through today otherwise.
“Do you have any experience with self-defense outside of our lesson last week?” I take the topic back to the reason we’re here. Maybe, if luck desires to be kind, we can get through this without me making a fool of myself.
She shakes her head no, which is exactly what I assumed. That’s good. I won’t have to unteach bad habits like I’ve had to do with others.
“In that case, we are going to focus on two things today. Simple strikes and basic escapes.”
Slipping into coach mode is like putting on a leather boot that has been properly broken in; it feels so natural that I sometimes wonder if this is the state I was meant to be in. Kori’s demeanor shifts with the change. The spark of mischief leaves her eyes as her spine straightens, and she watches me with rapt attention, clinging to every word.
“The most important thing to remember is that fighting should be your last resort. Prevention is key in keeping yourself safe, and that starts with your awareness, but we went over that last time. If the situation does require you to fight back, I’mgoing to make sure you have every tool possible at your disposal. Let’s start with a jab.”
I demonstrate the simple punch and correct her posture as she tries to mirror my motion. A spark of pride shimmers in my chest when she doesn’t tuck her thumb like I’ve seen so many novices do.
“Very good. Now drop your shoulder a little.” I run my hand along the tense muscle, easing it into the right form.
Her exposed skin pebbles under my fingers as a small quiver runs through her. Goddamnit. I should have asked her to wear a T-shirt today. The thick straps of her tank top don’t cover nearly enough skin. How am I supposed to focus on teaching when she reacts like this every time I get close? Not that I’m any better. Every fucking interaction adds sparks to the already electric air. There has to be a breaking point eventually; static can only build so long before it has to discharge.
After she gets comfortable with the movement, I grab a set of pads so she can practice on the real thing. I hope she never has to use what she’s learned, because some of the kids in my toddler class hit harder than her…and have more coordination.
“That was great,” I tell her, and she beams. “In the moment, striking with the heel of your hand may be a better option, but we will focus on that next time. If you do have to hit someone, do you know where you should target?”
“Their groin?”
“That’s right. Along with their eyes, nose, or throat. Sometimes your hands might be restrained—like if they grab you in a bear hug—and you won’t be able to punch your way out of it. Normally, I would demonstrate with a partner, but it’s just us. Stand behind me and grab me.”
Her hands barely close around the width of my arms and chest.
“Like this?” she breathes against my shoulder blades.
“Perfect. Now watch what I do.”
I walk her through the maneuver several times before we swap places. My arms have no difficulty wrapping around her frame, and the scent of soft citrus fills my senses. How can she still smell so sweet after everything I’ve put her through today? She stiffens for a split second before she relaxes into me. Heat radiates from her body, seeping into mine as her ass brushes against my crotch. That subtle motion—intentional or not—brings back that prickling sense of awareness to every one of my nerves as my cock stirs in my pants again.
It looks like Yellow isn’t the only one getting an exercise today. Goddamn, I feel like a high schooler with his first crush.
“You are supposed to try and escape,” I rasp into her ear when she doesn’t start the rep.
“Oh. Right,” she says and starts to wiggle in my arms.
Even without resistance, she struggles to free herself from my grasp without much success. It’s like everything I told her to do went in one ear and out the other. The only reason she escapes is her writhing makes my cock harder—painfully so—and I let her go before she notices my body’s mutiny.
“Did I do it?” she asks with a smile on her lips.
“Not exactly,” I tell her and try to will my dick back into submission. “Let’s try that again.”
I force thoughts of anything but the woman in my arms through my head to distract myself, and twist my bad leg in a way I know will send pain shooting through my knee.
It works…enough.
This time, Kori is more in control too. She still flails, but she remembers to make space and drop her weight to the floor. Neither of us is expecting it when she slides out of my hold, and her foot catches on mine as she tries to steady herself. The awkward misstep rips her balance from her, sending her tumbling toward the mat—and me.
My instincts from over a decade of training take over as she falls. I clutch her to me and let myself go to the ground with her, twisting us so I take the brunt of the impact. All technique is overshadowed by my need to protect her, and I hit the floor harder than I anticipate. Stars swim in my vision as the air is knocked from my lungs, leaving me stunned while she lands on top of me.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
