Page 17 of Out for Blood
I grab my wraps, side-eying him, “You said that last time.”
“And?” he urges, shifting nearer.
I meet him halfway, and his voice dips, the words only meant for me.
“You were sore for three days.”
My lips part in surprise, amusement on my face.
“That wasn’t from the workout,” I state.
He huffs through his nose, looking entirely too entertained.Shaking his head as he starts wrapping his hands and I do the same.
“Focus,” he mutters.
“Who says I’m not?” I question, stretching as I peek up, locking eyes with him.
I check my wraps; I always like them tighter than necessary.
He picks up on that too.
“You’re staring,” I taunt.
“I’m assessing,” he corrects.
My brow lifts. “Mm. That’s what you’re calling it?”
He steps into my space, stopping a few feet away.
“Something like that, Mrs. Chase.”
I ease back on my heels, scrunching my face.
We both stay still, sizing one another up.
“Are you just looking for an excuse to ogle me?” I challenge, a teasing edge in my voice.
“Get up,” he insists.
I take my time, fully aware of the effect it has on him. By the time I’m directly in front of him, his eyes have gone noticeably darker, fixed entirely on me.
“Are you going to make me work for it today?” He asks, his eyebrow raising.
I inch closer, my voice falling into a hushed tone.
“Always.”
“Cassidy, get your ass over here, or you’re doing a hundred burpees!” Leonardo shouts from the other side of the gym and the moment dissolves instantly.
I head for the ring, hooking a hand around the boxing ring ropes.
Tossing on my gloves, I spring into position.
We dance around each other before I make the first lunge, distributing my weight.
I move through my punching combination with fluidity, jab, cross, hook, and uppercut.
He meets me head-on.
