Page 22 of Fighting Conviction
Ellie perched her hands on her hips and tapped her foot, obviously annoyed he hadn’t been paying attention. “Well… If you train me and I learn how to kick some butt, could I join the BlackStone team? You know, to help figure out who was behind taking me and Sash—”
“No.”
The word came out harsher than he’d intended and she clamped her lips closed. There was no way in fucking hell he was letting Ellie anywhere near their plans to take down the bastards who kidnapped her. He’d never forgive himself if she got hurt again.
“Welp, that’s that, I guess.” She studied the ground as she mumbled, compelling him to explain, but she spoke before he had a chance.
“I’m ready.” She rolled back her slumped shoulders, seemingly shedding her disappointment for the sake of the exercise.
Devil paused mid-nod and his eyes widened. Ellie’s new posture highlighted her breasts, two perfect handfuls trapped inside her tight black sports bra that zipped in the fucking front. He didn’t even know they made those, but now that he did, his fingers ached to draw down the short zipper and free them right into his eager hands. It didn’t help her black leggings were just as tight. There was nothing to hide her trim hourglass figure, and he desperately wanted to get lost in time.
He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck as he turned away to hide the evidence of his arousal. They weren’t there to fuck around, especially not literally. He was teaching her to defend herself if she was ever attacked. Again. That sobering thought was enough to calm his dick back down.
“Right. This time, look forward and keep your rear fist up to block while you punch with your lead fist.”
She got into her stance again before nodding. “I need to look at your shoulders, right?”
Devil shook his head and put the padded mitts back on. “Nope. Just forward. It’s best if you don’t look at anything specific. Watch my upper body and look for openings to get a good punch in. You’ll more naturally defend yourself if you’re focusing on where you can hit next.”
“Got it. Oh wait! First…” She ran to his phone and paused “Shout at the Devil” by Motley Crue.
“Hey, that’s a good—” Low piano keys came over the speaker until a woman asked lyrically, “Why a man great, ‘til he gotta be great?”
Devil groaned louder than the music. “Come on, El. Lizzo again? You have her on fu-reakingrepeat at the clinic.”
Ellie burst into laughter. “Hey, if you get to beat me up, I get to listen to what I want while you do it. We can turn it back to that old depressing crap when your mitts are off and I’m the only one doing the hitting.”
“Watch it,” Devil shouted over the music, unable to hold back a grin. “Just because the lyrics actually mean something doesn’t mean it’s depressing. And don’t knock it just because it was before your time. You should respect your elders.” Devil made sure to give her a pointed look as she returned to the center of the mat.
“Elders?” she scoffed. “You’re twenty-seven, hardly a senior citizen.”
“Well, in this gym, I’m the professor and you’re the student, so you get one Lizzo song and then it’s back to my ‘old depressing crap’.”
Ellie rolled her eyes and resumed her stance. “Whatever you say,sir.”
All sensation from his extremities shot to his groin. He watched helplessly as Ellie giggled, still totally unaware of the effect that word had on him.
That’s what he should remember. She was too innocent to even know what she was saying. Too naïve to know the power she could have over a man like him.
Instead of aiming what he knew would be a lust-filled gaze at Ellie, he turned to study his mitts, adjusting himself behind one of them. He couldn’t resist watching her in the mirror, though, even as he clenched and unclenched his hands around the straps.
“Is something wrong with the pillow thing?” she asked before her golden eyes met his in the mirror. Her sharp inhale made his cock twitch against the tie of his gym shorts and he brought his stare back to his own green eyes. His hunger for her showed plainly on his face, and he was looking at her like a fucking dessert.
She shifted on her feet, squeezing her legs together, and he ground his teeth to the point of pain to try to regain control. If he didn’t act quickly, he’d have his cake and eat it too. Right on the gym floor.
“Stance,” he barked, keeping one mitt low in front of the tent in his shorts.
“What?” she asked, her brow raised in confusion.
He drew his arm back in an exaggerated motion to hit her with the mitt. Reading him properly, she brought her right fist up, barely in time to block her face.
“What the heck, Dev—”
“Stance, Ellie. Always be in a fighting position and ready for strikes.”
She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before she shook her head slightly and followed his command. Getting back into training mode was helping. Concentrating on making sure Ellie was able to fight for herself should the moment arise was the cold shower he needed.
“It sounds counterintuitive but if you don’t have time to block, lean into the punch. The attacker will likely miss and scrape the side of your head or you could absorb it with your forehead, which knowing your hard head, would do more damage to the other guy.”
