“Is this why you brought me here? To teach me to fight?”
“To defend yourself,” I corrected her.
“This is stupid.”
Mia turned to walk away. “Stupid?” I asked her back, and Mia turned around. “I bet you felt stupid when Ethan grabbed you and knocked you out. When you were tied up for days in that cabin, or should I remind you about the prankster, Mia? Nice nickname by the way, hardly a fucking prankster.”
“Stop!”
“How did you feel? Because I feel like a tosser for not teaching you this before. That I didn’t give you every tool necessary to protect yourself when I can’t be there. Every day, it tears me up inside. Every scar on your body is a reminder that I’ve failed you. I’m not doing that this time, Mia. I’m fighting for you, but you have to fight for yourself too.” Mia shoved me in the chest, but I wasn’t backing down. “Are you getting mad, love?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I fucking love you.”
She went to hit me, and I snatched her wrist, spun her around, and slammed her back into my front, my chest heaving. “You always step with your left foot when you come at me. You’re predictable and slow.”
“I’m not doing this with you.” She jerked her arm out of my grasp and walked away, but I grabbed her hips and yanked her back to my chest. I was asking for it, and if I wasn’t careful, this could be grounds to never trust me again. But it was a risk worth taking.
After a brief struggle, I secured her wrists in one hand and pushed her against a tree. My entire weight pressed against her, and my other palm covered her mouth. Her silent tears fell over my hand, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. I was already too far in. “If someone comes at you from behind,” I continued in her ear, “use that other hand and go for my face—for my eyes.”
Mia threw her thumb backward and jabbed the soft tissue below my eye, and my first reaction was to take a step back, removing my hand from her mouth, which gave her the chance to turn and face me. Confusion swam inside those glazed brown eyes.
I nodded. “Let’s keep going.”
I showed her different scenarios and how to get out of them. With each one, Mia became braver, and the light gradually came back to life in her eyes. It was hard, being this close and keeping my head trained at the task at hand, but she needed this. Mia needed to know she could fight back, that she was strong enough all on her own.
Returning in front of her, I wrapped my hand around her throat to move on to the next move. Loose strands fell from her ponytail, framing her face. Mia’s rapid pulse in her neck tapped religiously against my grip, her chest rising and falling in short breaths. Her glassy brown eyes locked on mine weakened me, and my hand relaxed from around her throat. I couldn’t do it. Putting my hands on her in this way was hard enough, and I wished I’d just taken her to the gym.
“Keep going,” she challenged me.
“I can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
Mia lifted my hand and placed it back on her throat. “What do I do next?”
Sucking in a breath, I pinched the bridge of my nose with my other hand.
“Ollie, I trust you,” Mia whispered with tears in her eyes. “What do I do next?”
“All right,” I ran a palm down my face and adjusted my hat, “You have a few options. First, you always want to drop your chin to your chest as soon as you feel a hand at your throat. Give them as little access as you can. You could grab my wrist with a free hand and yank it down. You could twist your body, throwing this arm up and over to use your elbow to snap connection. Or you could lift your knee and jab it into my groin. It depends if your attacker is using one hand to your throat, both hands, or has you on the ground.” Mia nodded, and I continued, “Go ahead, try one or a combination. But not the groin. I plan to give you children one day. Three of them, remember?”
Mia bit her lip and wrapped her tiny fingers around my wrist. When I thought she’d yank my wrist down, she surprised me with a twist of her body and throwing her elbow up, slamming it into my forearm, breaking the connection as I’d taught her.
Her knee came up, and I quickly blocked it. “I said, not the groin,” I growled.
“Then you shouldn’t have mentioned it.” She fell back against the tree with a smirk. “Let’s do it again. Don’t be a baby. I know you can fight me harder.”
Grinning like a fool, I shook my head before grabbing her neck. Her skin was soft under my fingers, pulse ticking at an all-time high. My eyes landed on her lips, distracted in the way they’d begged to be kissed. If Mia didn’t hurry with a move, I’d lose all self-control.
“Make a move, Mia.” My hand moved up the length of her throat, and she swallowed beneath as the pad of my thumb grazed her jawline. There was something in the chilled spring air, it smelled like roses dipped in desire, and the changing mood swirled inside our bubble. Mia grabbed my waist to pull me closer, and her breath shuddered in response to my growing knob pressing against her pelvis. With my free hand, I flipped my cap backward before my palm hit the trunk of the tree above her head. Though my fingers were dangerously around her throat, Mia had complete control over me.
Perhaps it was in the way she moved in a delicate defiance. Every breath pulled me closer until my nose skimmed her cheek, and my lips brushed her skin. My arm shook, and the only hope at this point was for her to breathe strength back into me by caving and kissing me already.
Instead, her knee came up and bucked into my lower abdomen, knocking all air from my lungs.
The blow sent me backward, and I automatically went down to the ground on all fours, my hands fisting leaves. “Mia,” I croaked, then rolled over to my back. “What in the bloody hell was that for?”
“I don’t know why I just did that,” panic buried in her voice, and she paced above me, the sun’s rays appearing and disappearing, back and forth, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Ollie.”
Groaning, I dropped my arm over my eyes to wait for the pain to subside.
I’d read the situation entirely wrong.
“Mia Rose, you’re breaking my heart.”
She fell to her knees at my side and pushed my arm out of the way. Horror marred her features as her eyes darted from my face to my stomach. She lifted my hoodie and shirt and pressed her lips against my tattooed stomach. “What on earth are you doing?” I chuckled, cupping her head and pulling her up so I could see her. I moved the loose strands from her face.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me or what just happened.”
I raised my brows, laughing. “So, you kiss my stomach?”
“I’m desperate.” She shrugged.
A grin spread across my lips, and I jutted my chin. “How desperate?” Mia’s top lip disappeared into a pressed smile in my hands, and I dropped my arms back, a fucking goner for her. “Come here.” An impulsive plea, but I was utterly defenseless against her criminal smile.
Mia shook her head, lowering it until, finally, her lips clutched on to mine. A pivotal moment erupted, and suddenly, nothing else mattered. My heart skipped inside my ribcage, my lids fluttered close, and every worry detached, floating outside our space. My tongue pushed through her seams, until it stroked hers, back into a merciful slow dance of the two of us. The only strength I had was in my arms, and I pulled her fully on top of me, locked in sweet slow motion. Every small whimper coming from her throat had been fuel, and her tantalizing taste shot missiles packed with fireworks through my bloodstream, breathing me back to life. She sank inside my arms, but I held her together. I always would. “Mia,” I breathed into her mouth, not recognizing my voice. My hand gripped the back of her neck and the other on her hip, pressing firmly against the part that ached to fill her, and to keep me anchored from floating away …