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She did so and he released her before sitting back on his heels. “Good.”
She panted, as she burned from the inside out.
“Bently, can you show me too?” Marcy asked in a seductive tone.
His gaze remained on Belle as he answered her. “Yeah, I just need a minute.”
“What did I miss?” Katy asked, rejoining Belle.
“Belle can show you.” Bently got up. “I’ll be right back,” he said, before leaving the room.
“Damn, girl. I leave you alone for ten minutes and you gave the teacher a hard-on.”
Belle’s attention snapped to her friend. “No I didn’t!” Did I?
Marcy glared at her from across the room.
“I’m just joking,” Katy teased.
Was it possible Bently was just as affected by her as she was by him? Then again, it probably didn’t take much to get a man like him going.
Belle got up and grabbed her bottle of water. She took long gulps of the cool liquid in hopes it would help quell the fire inside.
I need to order a new vibrator.
“Okay, ladies, let’s move into the next position,” Vargas instructed.
Bently came back in a few minutes later and they resumed class. He gave every woman the same attention, smiling and being polite and professional. He either ignored Marcy’s come-ons or used Vargas as a buffer. Though his gaze found Belle’s several times over the course of the class, and lingered.
Bently didn’t quite fit the original view she’d had of him. He didn’t seem arrogant, but rather humble and confident. He knew how to work a room of women, but he was respectful. He hadn’t made one flirty comment the whole class. Not to mention the fact that this whole thing was his idea. Why was protecting women and children a priority for him? Was it just because he was a good guy? Or was it something more personal than that?
Maybe they did have something in common after all.
Chapter 5
Bently
Cold water rained down on Bently’s slick skin. The bite was needed to calm his arousal. For the second week in a row, Belle had come to his class in a sports bra and leggings that left almost nothing to his imagination—and he had a vivid one. He prided himself on his professionalism, and having to leave class to deal with his hard-on was anything but appropriate. That had never happened during a lesson for him. He was supposed to be showing these women how to defend themselves against attackers, not fantasize about how Belle would look on her hands and knees while he pounded into her from behind that sweet, shapely ass.
Damn. He was at full mast just thinking about her. The way she smelled like vanilla and cocoa butter. Her full red lips that he just wanted to bite. His palm wound around his hard cock. If a cold shower wouldn’t work, then he had to take matters into his own hands.
He closed his eyes imagining her dark curls swept onto the mat. They’d be the only two people in the classroom. She’d pant with him on top of her, her body trembling with her own need. He’d lean close, his lips brushing hers lightly. She’d squeeze her legs around him, pulling him closer. His hand pumped faster, envisioning it was her reaching down to stroke him. His spine tingled with the building pressure. Those brown eyes would look up at him as she said, “I want you. Fuck me, Bently.”
His self-control would snap. He’d tear off her leggings, and she’d be bare underneath, already so wet and ready for him. He’d slip inside with one quick thrust. They’d moan together because they felt so good. He tightened his fist around his shaft, moving it faster and faster. His abs clenched as his release spurted all over the tile wall. Bently groaned as pleasure shot through him. He took a moment to get his ragged breathing under control, switching the water to nearly scalding.
What was Belle doing to him? He never obsessed about a woman like this. He just needed to fuck her and get her out of his system.
Fifteen minutes later, he was staring at the array of police reports on his bed. He had just enough time to browse through the cases again before leaving to meet the boys at the bar. He dried off his hair, then tied the towel around his waist. He’d brought work home because he’d hit a dead end with all of them. Muggings, break-ins, and some minor complaints with very few witnesses wasn’t a lot to go on. There’d been no trace of the perpetrator. Whoever was responsible knew how to avoid being caught. They were like ghosts.
Smash! Beep! Beep! Beep!
What the hell?
Bently rushed over to the window that overlooked his dark front lawn. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and grabbed his Glock before he rushed down the stairs and out the front door.
“Fuck!” His truck’s windshield had a large hole in it and spiderweb cracks weaving through the smashed glass.
Adrenaline coursed in his veins. He turned around, searching the area for any movement. Nothing caught his eye except a few nosy neighbors whose porch lights quickly flicked on as their curtains moved.
