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“Should I change first?” she asked as she followed his instructions.
His lips brushed the nape of her neck. “No. You look great like this. What do you call this one?”
“Librarian.”
“Next lesson, remind me to teach you about blending in.” His hands moved to her hips. “I don’t think Utah’s librarian population is roaming hotels in the middle of the night dressed in tight skirts.”
“Do you know a lot about Salt Lake City librarians?” she challenged. She kept her gaze fixed on the mirror. In the reflection, she saw his lips hovering over her skin. Just a little bit lower and he’d be kissing her.
“No, but I have some experience with male fantasies,” he said.
“I wear disguises for privacy,” she said. “So no one will recognize me.”
“Sometimes,” he agreed. He lowered his mouth to her neck and gave her a gentle nip with his teeth. “And sometimes you wear them for me. You could have crossed the hotel hallway in your sweats.”
“Yes.” She gasped and raised her arms, reaching for him. She wanted to touch him, to reach back and draw his mouth down to the sensitive skin on her neck.
“Not too high,” he said. “You’ll want your hands positioned in front of your face for this lesson. We’re going to practice punching.”
She lowered her arms and formed her hands into tight fists. “Like this?”
“That’s a start,” he said, running his hands up to her waist. “The important thing is to twist from the waist.”
“Twist from the waist. I can do that.”
?
?Let’s try jabbing your right fist across your body,” he said.
She executed the movement as his hands guided her waist into a twist.
“Not bad,” he said. “But you dropped your left hand. This time keep it in front of your face for protection. Now try again.”
She performed the same move. This time, his hands moved higher, gliding up her sides and over her white button-down shirt to her rib cage. His index finger brushed her breast, and she moaned into the punch.
“Careful you don’t get distracted while trying to fend off your opponent,” he murmured.
“But you—”
“Try again,” he said firmly. “First a right jab and then a left. Picture someone you want to take out standing right in front of you. Like that jerk who’s still singing in your show.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Jared,” she said. “I asked Mason to fire him, but he claimed we couldn’t find a decent replacement for the same salary.”
“Honey, I’m not jealous. I know how to kiss you.” He pressed his lips to her neck as if offering proof. “Now, jab.”
She threw one punch after another. Her first looked on target. And her second. But by the third, her instructor’s hands drifted lower, moving over her hips. She felt his fingers pulling at her skirt. And the fabric rose, brushing against her bare legs.
Her arms stilled and lowered.
“Don’t let down your guard,” he warned. “Keep jabbing.”
“What are you doing?” she demanded as he lifted her skirt higher.
“Testing to see if you can work with distractions. Most fights happen in crowded places. Lots of noise.”
“Pulling up my skirt doesn’t cause a racket,” she muttered, out of breath from punching the air.
“Just wait.”
