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I start wrapping her hands, savoring her touch and feeling her shiver each time I move the wraps around her wrist and then the middle of her hands.
Soon I’ve got one hand wrapped and I take the other, but then I just hold it like that, my thumb moving over her knuckles, my eyes pinned on her as pleasure dances across her features.
She looks at me and then glances at the city skyline, making a soft whimpering noise that just about has my manhood ready to take off like a goddamn rocket ship.
“This place really is amazing,” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I say, but we could be standing atop a mountain with the whole world laid out before us and I’d only have eyes for her.
I wrap her other hand, my manhood throbbing the longer I maintain the contact with her skin, the base of my length aching as though her tight center is already clutching me.
I step back once I’ve finished the wraps because otherwise, I won’t be able to fight the deafening chorus inside of me, a million voices roaring at me to take her and take her right now.
“Now it’s time to put on the gloves,” I tell her.
“I feel so silly,” she murmurs her sassy shield dropping. “What am I going to do, really, if a bunch of goons jump out at me? Punch them to death?”
“No, you’re going to close your eyes and pray that your protector comes to save you,” I joke, puffing myself up like a superhero.
Her mouth falls open and she gaps at me for what feels like a long time, and then she lets out an endearing giggle that goes straight to my soul if I even still have one after so many years spent being hard and unfeeling in the business world.
“Wait a second, did you just make a joke, Jamie?” she laughs.
“Maybe I did,” I say, a note of wonder in my voice. “It looks like you bring it out in me, Jade.”
Our eyes meet and I swear to God, she says so much with that look, so many unspoken things dancing in those glinting eyes.
I lean down and pick up the boxing gloves, and then make to hand them to her.
She tilts her head and mock glares at me, opening and closing her wrapped hands for effect.
“And how exactly am I supposed to get these crab claws in there, huh?”
I smirk and then bring the first glove to her hand, helping her to shimmy into it.
I do it with the other and then lace her up.
“Now I feel even more stupid,” she says, shaking her head slowly.
“You don’t look stupid,” I smirk.
“No, then how do I look?”
“Dangerous,” I say.
She aims the mother of all pouts at me, pursing her lips in a way that has my mind doing a hundred sweetly sinful things at once.
“So now you’re just a nonstop joke machine, huh?”
In all the self-defense classes I’ve run for charity, even the one on one sessions, I’ve never experienced this level of intimacy and closeness. It pulses and stampedes through me, a nonstop presence that’s impossible to ignore or repress.
All I want to do is grab her and kiss her, and if it wasn’t for the specter of Yasmin whispering at the edge of my mind, perhaps I would.
But my choice of location might be working against me, because up here with nothing but the wind and the light snow and the clouds – the glass so clear it’s like it’s not even there like we’re floating isolated on top of the world – I feel myself slipping deeper and deeper into the closeness with Jade.
It’s not just the lust, which thrums like an engine.
It’s her smile.
It’s her laugh.
It’s her sass and it’s …
Dammit, it’s everything about her.
“Come on,” I say, picking up the pads and holding them at shoulder height. “Let me see a basic one-two.”
“Okay, I have no idea what a one-two is,” she says. “I’m a complete beginner, remember?”
I jab at the air with my left hand.
“That’s a one,” I say.
And then I throw a right straight down the middle.
“That’s a two.”
“Okay,” she says, her features hardening and becoming determined. “I can do this.”
“I know you can,” I tell her firmly. “You can do anything, Jade.”
She flinches and her gaze flits to mine.
Then she’s biting her lip again and I have to look away before she unleashes the beast inside of me.
“I’m ready,” she says.
I turn back to her and she’s once again Miss Determined, which just makes me think of her standing with a brood of children all around her. She’ll raise them with the same determination she brings to everything, and they’ll be the luckiest kids in the world to have a mother like her.
“One-two,” I say.
She throws the punches, wincing as they hit the pads.
