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No longer concerned with the modesty issue, I let go of my white-knuckled death grip on the edges of the robe and have my fist connecting with Jared’s nose before anyone knows I’ve moved. My hand hurts like hell, but my adrenaline has me swinging a second time, ignoring the pain. Right after the second hit makes contact with Jared’s jaw, Travis has my arms pinned together behind my back before I can do any more damage. My entire body is exposed, my chest prominently displayed and heaving with huge gaping breaths, but I’m so spitfire-mad I don’t even care.
“You’ve been drugging me?” I hiss at Jared, who stands in front of me still in shock and rubbing his jaw. Since Travis is so nice to hold me in place, I take the opportunity to use his strong, unwavering body to support my next move. My right leg generates power as I swing it out and around, my foot connecting with the side of Jared’s weasel head in a roundhouse kick. The move knocks his glasses clean off his head, and he drops down to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” he bellows from the floor. Before I can get my foot to connect with Jared’s head again, I feel my body being lifted off the ground. I’m airborne, and then I crash with my back slamming onto the exam table. The wind is knocked out of me when Travis’ full body weight lands on top of mine. I try to struggle, of course, but his more-than-six-foot, hard-bodied frame easily overtakes my five-and-a-half foot, petite body.
“Settle the fuck down!” Travis shouts, pinning both of my wrists down above my head. My chest is heaving from fury and exertion. I feel his muscular thighs press over my legs as I sink further into the foam cushion of the table. His chest is heavy on mine, and both of us are glaring into each other’s eyes with anger and defiance.
“Get the hell off me!” I yell, glaring daggers at Travis. I hear Jared struggling to get up from the floor, cursing the entire time.
“Okay...yeah...I-I see...what you mean,” Jared says, stumbling over his words.
I glance over at him, and oh, my God, he’s such a dork. I see blood streaking from his nose and dripping over his lip. He must not feel it, because instead of taking care of my handiwork, he runs his visibly-shaking hands through his too-long geeky hair, then bends down to grab his glasses from the floor and proceeds to clean the broken lenses with his tie. I’m sure he’s trying to pull himself together from the shock of being unexpectedly knocked down. I internally smile to myself.
“Let me...go get a few things, Travis…to make this go…” he searches for the word, “…smoother. I’ll be right back,” he says with a shaky breath.
“Don’t worry; she’s not going anywhere,” he sneers at me, not having moved his hard glare from mine at all. When I hear the door click shut, Travis shouts at me again, “What the hell was that?”
“Oh, that?” I say with dripping sarcasm. “That was me fighting for my freedom thanks to years of Jake shoving self-defense moves down my throat. He just got a small taste of my wrath. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” He chuckles sardonically, finding amusement in my statement. “You think I’m joking?” I ask angrily, not finding this funny at all.
“Oh, on the contrary; I think you’re all business, but it will only serve to hurt you in the end. You have to remember—for every action, there is a consequence.” Then he gives me a sultry smirk, and I watch as his eyes slip over my features and notice his pupils growing larger. It’s at this moment I realize the precarious position he has me pinned into. The atmosphere grows quiet as we both shift into a physical awareness of each other. I struggle against the entertaining thought of tasting those delectable lips once again. I close my eyes against the urge, willing the image to go away.
“Believe it or not, that was fucking hot, and your naked tits heaving under me,” he pauses with a smirk, “are turning me on.” I feel him reposition his hips, and he places his knee between my thighs as he pushes my legs apart. “You feel that, sweetheart? I wasn’t joking when I said you turn me on,” he breathes. I feel the hardness of his cock now as it rests perfectly against my bared heat. My heart begins racing as I try struggling out of his hold, but to no avail. Clenching my eyes more tightly shut, I turn my head away and will his effect over me to disappear. It’s so damn wrong…wrong on so many levels. Why do I find myself turned on and distracted at every turn with this man? He makes me forget everything when he’s near.
