AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No wonder you haven’t had a boyfriend in ages. I can practically hear my friend Max’s voice inside my head. He was a first-hand witness to the consequences of my unleashed temper and ill-considered behavior when both of us got booted from a party back in college. Another student—who was probably just trying to flirt with me—and I got into a very loud argument after he teased me about my “uninspired major” in economics. And the saddest part about this: I was attracted to the guy. I just couldn’t handle his attention and reacted in the worst way possible.
Just like now.
Men don’t like to be taunted, and they definitely don’t like losing to a girl. My need to prove myself at any cost always turns too loud and vile when I lose my temper—and that happens all too easily.
Sadly, provocative banter is all I can come up with when I find myself rattled by someone like Chase. At least he doesn’t seem to be fazed by my brazen attitude. So far, at least.
“I agree,” he says. “I shouldn’t need longer than that to put you in your place.”
Something about ‘being put in my place’ by him sounds awfully intriguing, but I try to ignore the surge of excitement that flares up inside me.
He is two belts below me, but he is a man. A strong guy, whose upper arms are almost as thick as my legs. I’m no match for his strength, no matter how much better my technique may be. I could only submit him this easily during our first roll because he underestimated me.
He almost looks angry when we get into position, and he regards me with a visible line between his brows. It’s evident that he has no intention of holding back this time.
Our bodies begin to move, a dance of controlled strength and strategy. I can feel his eyes on me, his determination palpable as he seeks to even the score after my previous victory.
I seize the opportunity and attempt a Guillotine Choke, hoping to catch him off guard. But this time, Chase is quick to react, his well-practiced defenses coming into play. The sensation of his body against mine is electrifying. I can feel his effort to escape my hold, his breath warm against my neck as he counters my move. The feel of his hard muscles tensing under my touch makes my head churn and I’m thrown off balance when his intoxicating scent envelopes me.
I can’t help the heat rushing to my cheeks when I’m pressed against his rock-hard chest and my right hand gets stuck right at his crotch, firmly caressing his bulge. Squished in his grip, I try to free my hand, forcing me to slide it along his undoubtedly impressive length. Startled by the sensation, I lose focus for a second, which is just enough for him to turn the tables.
In an instant, he's on top of me. Our faces are just inches apart, his intense gaze locked onto mine. Our breaths synchronize, the rhythm of our efforts creating an unspoken connection.
The timer's abrupt chime breaks the charged atmosphere, signaling the end of our five-minute round.
“Almost,” he lets out a menacing whisper, and I feel his hot breath dance across the sensitive skin above my upper lip.
A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, and I swear he must feel my heart beating against his chest, considering the force with which my pulse is galloping at the moment. He holds me in place with his weight, as if we were still rolling, not making a move to let me go—while my body is turning to jello beneath him.
“You didn’t submit me,” I remind him, relieved that my voice is not trembling as much as I feared it would.
“That’ll come, don’t worry,” he vows.
There’s a sinister promise in his voice, and for a moment I get the feeling he’s not talking about jiu jitsu.
I have to stop this. This is neither the time nor place.
He rolls off of me when I begin squirming underneath him, and we separate, catching our breaths.
As I look at him, sweat-damp hair clinging to his forehead, I can see the fire in his eyes. The humiliation of his previous defeat still lingers, and yet, there's something deeper in his gaze—an acknowledgment of the growth that comes from such challenges. And it just makes him even more attractive.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Madison.”
“Nice to meet you, Maddie—”
“No, Madison,” I cut him off. “I hate it when people call me Maddie.”
He chuckles. “Fine, Madison. How long have you been doing this?”
“Longer than you I presume,” I reply, evidently unable to answer his question like a normal person. “You’re a blue belt, right?”
“Correct,” he responds instantly. “You?”
“Was just promoted to brown,” I say, adding a wink that belies my fluttering nerves. “Told you.”
“Congrats! I’m not gonna lie, it’s a relief hearing that.”
