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"You always want to use distractions."
"Distractions?" she repeated and made a face. "Like, 'oh, look at that huge dancing penis over there?'" She pointed to a place behind him, trying to make him turn.
He arched his brow. "You think about penises a lot when I'm around, don't you?"
She growled. "Don't flatter yourself, Malloy."
He chuckled. It was a deep, husky sound that made her think very intently about his penis.
"I meant, distraction," he emphasized. "As in nerve control." When she looked at him as if he was speaking a foreign language, he tried a simpler term. "Pressure points?"
"Ooh," Kit said, coming off the couch and flinging his empty plate aside to join the lesson. "You mean like Spock when he pinches people on the shoulder and they pass out? I want to learn how to do that."
Malloy blinked once at Willow's cousin, and she almost burst out laughing by his confounded expression. The poor deputy wasn't quite sure how to take good ol' Kit.
Deciding to ignore him, Malloy returned his gaze to Willow. "Using distraction can help you move the aggressor's stance from attack to defense. So, when you go for his wrist, try to hit a pressure point along the way to throw him off guard long enough for you to perform your move."
"Okay," Willow answered, nodding and rubbing her hands in anticipation. "How do I do that?"
He grinned, no doubt amused by her sudden enthusiasm. Willow wanted to snarl at him for smiling indulgently as if she were an eager child demanding a piggyback ride from Uncle Malloy. But she was too worried about paying attention and getting the next lesson right to berate him.
"Well," he said. "Aside from the all-too-famous knee-to-the-groin jab, one thing you can do is knee him on the outside part of the upper thigh when you reach for his wrist."
He grabbed her wrist before she had time to prepare. And a split second later, a sharp pain ran up her leg just as her arm was being wrenched around and she found herself once again on the ground with a mouthful of carpet.
"Mother f—" Her voice was muffled by the floor. Damn it. He'd done it again. The infuriating man.
"Cool," Kit cried. "I want to try."
After a rude glare at her cousin, she pushed herself to her feet and turned to Malloy. "How the hell do you do that?"
Instead of taunting her ineptness, he shocked her by merely dishing out more instructions as if he hadn't just shown her who was boss.
Having her face off with Kit, he said, "Press your thumbs into the joint on the back of his wrist." He paused to frown at her fumbling attempts, then muttered, "Here," and manually positioned her fingers around Kit's hand. "Dig the rest of your fingers into his pulse and keep his own palm facing him."
Willow took a moment to study how she held Kit's wrist. Her cousin made a bored-sounding sigh and yawned loudly as he stood passively, waiting for her to get it right.
"You want to keep your hand close to you too," Malloy advised, his voice right behind her, tickling her ear with his breath. "Pull his wrist up against you so you'll have more control over him."
"Like this?" Willow asked, jerking Kit closer. He stumbled off balance, his arm bumping her left breast.
"Jeez, Willow," he muttered, moving back to put a little space between them. "You're nice and all. But I only like you as a cousin."
"Shut up," she hissed, sick of his smarmy attitude. Twisting on his hand as Malloy had done to her, she spun him around and pushed him toward the floor. As he landed with an "Oomph," her startled gaze flew to Malloy's.
"Ohmigod! I did it."
He laughed and grinned. Willow's breath caught as she stared at him. Wow, he had a gorgeous smile. She had to physically restrain herself to keep from flinging her arms around him and giving him a little victory hug… and kiss.
Muttering from the floor, Kit pushed himself to his feet and dusted off his knees. "She didn't use any kind of distraction," he pointed out, trying to get her into trouble with the teacher.
But Malloy merely shook his head. "She didn't have to. You were already unprepared."
His roundabout praise made Willow glow. "So, what are some of these other pressure points, then?" she asked, wanting to do something else to impress him so she could put another quick, approving grin back on his face. "In case we can get Kit here to pay attention next time?"
As Kit sputtered out a comeback, Malloy moved closer to her until that intoxicatingly earthy smell of his enveloped her.
"If you curl your index finger into a hook," he said, doing so himself to demonstrate, and seemingly unaware of the effect he had on her, "you can run your knuckle down an attacker's ribcage, here, and distract him long enough to gain control." Barely touching her, he gently ran his knuc
