Page 30 of Forbidden Heart

I know I should focus on what we’re doing, but all I can think about is how close he is, how warm his touch feels, and how amazing he smells.

“The thumb always goes on the outside,” he says. “Otherwise you could break it.”

“Break what?” I ask absently, my eyes locking on his lips.

“Your fist. When you throw a punch!”

“Why would I throw a punch?” I ask. And why is JJ thinking about punching when I’m thinking about kissing?

“So you can defend yourself,” JJ says, his words penetrating my mental haze. He’s not flirting with me or trying to seduce me. He wants me to learn self-defense, in case he can’t be there to protect me.

My cheeks flush, but JJ seems too focused on what we’re doing to notice. At least, I hope he doesn’t notice. Or maybe he does, and he’s pretending not to because he’s a nice guy.

“Punch me,” he demands.

I’ve never punched anyone before, not even in all the times Father hit me, but there’s only one way to hide my embarrassment. So I take a deep breath, pull my fist back, and let it fly.

It’s like hitting a brick wall.

“That hurt,” I whine, rubbing my knuckles. JJ stares down at me and blinks.

“Let’s try something easier,” he says. He flexes his arms, and I am hypnotized by his shifting muscles. Like lightning, he thrusts his open hand into the air. A sharp exhalation accompanies the fearsome strike. Then he lowers his hand and shows me the base of his palm.

“You see this area here?” he explains, pointing to the fleshy spot at the bottom of his hand and the base of his thumb. “You hit your opponent with that part.”

I nod.

“Good.” JJ takes my hand and runs his thumb over the base of my palm. “This makes for the least chance of injury to you and it delivers a powerful hit.”

I try to ignore the tingles that shoot up my arm and nod.

“If you can,” he says, “go upward and aim for the guy’s nose. It’s all cartilage. You can break it easily, and that should give you time to run away.”

It’s that mental image—of punching Father in the nose and running—that resonates with me. But when JJ steps back and points at his nose, I gape in horror.

“What if I break your nose?”

“I’ll move out of the way,” he promises.

I try a few times, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Not when I keep worrying he won’t be able to get out of the way in time.

“How about we get you used to reacting?” he asks.

“Reacting?” I frown. “Aren’t I supposed to be attacking?”

Without warning, JJ lunges forward and grabs me. I gasp in surprise, but then his fingertips graze my armpit, I let out a squeal of laughter.

“Roonie!” JJ barks. “You were supposed to hit me.”

“Oops.” I try to raise my hand to hit him, but when he grazes my armpit again, I start laughing. “No fair, JJ.”

“You think an attacker would be fair?” JJ lets go of me.

“I don’t think an attacker would tickle me,” I fire back.

“I wasn’t tickling you.” He runs a hand through his hair, seeming at a loss. “I was being gentle, because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Thanks.” I smile.