Murder_ A Sinful Secrets Romance - Ella James Page 0,33

drop on you?”

He blinks. “I didn’t block.”

“You what?”

“Your ankle,” he says, his dark brows arched. “I didn’t know how your landing would be if I threw you backward. You had so much height on the kick…” He lifts his right shoulder.

“You didn’t know, so you let me kick you in the head?”

Now he’s smirking. But it’s not a smirk, is it? He looks maybe embarrassed.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I say.

“You would have spun back this way.” He turns his big body, demonstrating the trajectory. “It would have put a lot of pressure on that plate or whatever scaffolding they put in there.”

I smack my forehead, shake my head. “Holy hell. Well, you know how to make a girl feel like an asshole.”

“Why are you an asshole? Maybe I’m just nice,” he teases.

I look up at him. Hot and nice. Perfect. I nod. “Maybe so.” I want to say I think his brains are addled, but I don’t know what might set him off, so I keep my mouth shut.

“You should consider supplementing your Taekwondo with some more HTH. Hand-to-hand. To take some pressure off your ankle.”

I frown up at him. “Okay.” I fold my arms again. “I guess you’re going to volunteer to teach me. What kind of martial arts do you know, sensei?”

He shrugs. “A mix.”

“Like…?”

“Kali. Krav Maga. Judo, Jiujitsu, Aikido. And Taekwondo. I learned that first, in high school. We focus on a lot of different things for CQC. Close quarters contact. So I know a little of them all.”

“Well, shit.”

He winks.

“So you’re an expert.”

He shrugs.

“And you can teach me…what?”

“I can teach you quicker, safer ways to take someone down—yeah. So you don’t have to risk your ankle.”

“Really? That would be awesome.”

He nods, a little on the slow side.

“Well, when can we get started?”

He shrugs. His eyes find the porch floor, then return to mine.

“Now?” I laugh. “Just kidding. What about tomorrow?”

His brows lift. Agreement? I assume so.

“Anytime is probably okay for me, and any day. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow. Or ever. You may be busier than I am,” I say.

“I doubt that.”

“Well tell me when. I’ll bake another cake. Then we can trade.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Okay, no cake. Would you rather have cinnamon rolls or brownies?”

He looks down at his hands, still in his pockets. He presses his lips together. His eyes return to mine. “What’s your favorite?” he asks, looking thoughtful.

“I’m a cupcake person.”

“Do that, then.”

He steps back toward the door and rakes a hand through his hair.

“Let me give you my phone number,” I say. “That way you can text me when you’re ready.”

“What’s your number?”

I rattle it off and wait for him to go inside. Now standing in the doorway, he nods. “Thanks, Gwenna.”

“You can remember it?”

Another funny, sideways smile. Or smirk.

“And to think, I had you pegged as just a pretty face.” I grin, and hold, despite the way it makes my stomach twist.

He smiles back. “To think.”

Inside my chest, something spreads its wings. I start down the steps, still smiling as I call over my shoulder, “Later, sensei.”

As I start into the woods between our houses, my heart is pounding in the best possible way.

TEN

BARRETT

My balls are throbbing so hard I can feel it down the insides of my thighs. My shaft is swollen and hard as a baseball bat, with slick precum oozing out the head, coating my palm, which grips my cock and strokes it up and down.

I lift my hips and drag my loose fist upward from the base, making a ring under the head. My thumb finds the soft notch just underneath the head and strokes there, while my left hand plays support and grips my sac. I close my eyes and roll my balls around until they, too, are taut and aching.

I’m breathing hard. My legs are shaking. I’m leaning back in the armchair—the one by the window. The one where a few hours ago, I dozed off for two hours and woke up screaming so loud I’m surprised Gwenna didn’t hear me from next door.

I tighten my fist and stroke faster, up and down my shaft, bouncing when I reach the base, causing my balls to bounce, too. I slide back up and roll my palm over my head and stroke back down, and then back up, until I’m right there on the edge. My head is too sensitive to touch. My cock throbs with my pulse, and my balls have drawn up tight.

I want to come. I need to get