to put me down, not throw me down. Even with the mats, the impact with the floor knocked the breath out of me. I lay there, dazed, for a moment while Keane towered over me.
“Next time, put your arms out like this.” He demonstrated, holding his arms out to the side with his palms facing back. “Then slap your hands down when you hit to dissipate some of the force. If I’d been a bad guy, you’d be in deep shit right now.”
I sucked in a breath of air. “I’m really beginning to hate you,” I said.
“Glad to hear it,” he replied with a cocky smile. “Now why didn’t you go for my balls when I slung you over my shoulder? I let you hang low enough to have a shot.”
I pushed myself up to a sitting position, ducking my head to hide the blush I was sure colored my cheeks. “Only in your wildest dreams am I touching you there,” I grumbled.
He laughed and offered me a hand up. I decided to ignore it, figuring it was a trick of some sort. My muscles groaned in protest as I hauled myself to my feet. They hadn’t felt too good before Keane had slammed me into the mats.
“If a bad guy grabs you, are you going to be too prudish to touch him there if that’s your best chance to get away?” he asked.
My cheeks burning brightly, I managed to meet his stunning green eyes. “Touching a stranger is one thing. Touching someone I’m going to have to look in the eye afterward is another.” I jutted my chin out and gave him my most stubborn look. He’d pushed me into doing things I wasn’t comfortable doing, but he wasn’t going to push me into that.
Keane thought about it for a minute, looking displeased. Then he nodded. “All right. I suppose I can see your point. Now, let’s work on how to escape various holds, using the tools I taught you yesterday.”
It was a weird morning. Since Keane was teaching me how to escape holds, it meant he was constantly grabbing me, holding me against his body. He was an asshole, but he was one hell of a sexy asshole, and I couldn’t help being aware of it when his hands were on me. He moved with lethal grace, and the intensity in his eyes said he loved what he was doing—whether because he loved teaching, or because he loved fighting, or because he just liked beating me up I wasn’t sure.
I was pleasantly surprised to find myself a fast learner. Keane could still overpower me with frightening ease, but I was making him work harder at it than he had yesterday. Hard enough for a fine sheen of sweat to coat his brow. He should have smelled of nasty, stinky guy, but instead I caught the mingled scents of leather and something unfamiliar, yet faintly herbal.
One time when we were rolling around on the mat, I ended up on my back with my hands pinned beside my head. I was eye to eye with him, the entire front of his body pressed against mine. I felt his breath against my cheek, and I smelled the leather-and-herb scent that was beginning to be familiar—and delicious. His hair hung over one of his eyes, hiding it behind an inky black fringe, but I still felt trapped more by his stare than by his hold. His pupils dilated, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.
He did not look amused. He did not look annoyed. None of his usual expressions. Instead, I’d say he looked … surprised. He lay there on top of me, looking into my eyes, failing to snark at me for not trying to fight my way free.
“Can we just pretend I head-butted you?” I asked breathlessly. “My head aches enough already.” It wasn’t a lie, either. I didn’t know how many times I’d crashed my skull into him this morning, but it was a lot.
His grip on my wrists loosened, and a faint smile lifted his lips. “Fair enough,” he said, then rolled off of me, lying on his back beside me just out of touching distance.
I immediately missed the warmth of his body. Of course, it had to be just a rebound thing. There was no way I was interested in this arrogant, obnoxious jerk. No matter how hot he might be.
Still, he hadn’t looked arrogant and obnoxious just now. “Can I ask you