Page 28 of A Shot at Love
Ky nodded.
Gemma couldn’t help herself when she added, “But feel free to wear some if you think you might need it. I wouldn’t want you to hurt…anything.” If her unconscious attempt had been to put him in his place, it backfired.
“Don’t worry about me,” he told her. “You’re sure your knee is up for it?”
“My knee’s fine. I wouldn’t have decided to work out if it weren’t. And having gear on wouldn’t have prevented what happened to me in my apartment,” she said. “I managed to hold my own even though I had a gun pointed at my face.”
It was his turn for silence, his gaze, though, never wavering from hers. The intensity of the scrutiny had her insides squirming.
“Okay,” he said at last. “No gear. But we use the mats. If one of us falls, at least the mats will cushion us.”
“I have no intention of falling,” she told him.
The slight lift of his full lips distracted her for a moment, just enough so that when he moved toward her she wasn’t as quick as she should have been.
In no time at all, he’d grabbed both her forearms, the strength of his hold imprisoning her. His slight height advantage dazed her as he loomed above her, his hands clamped down together.
When the shock of his approach wore off, Gemma’s trained brain kicked in. Most people would instinctively pull backward to try and yank their arms away from an attacker’s hold.
Not Gemma.
She knew the futility of moving back, so she stepped into his space, their bodies so close she could distinguish the cacophony of colors in his eyes, and in one continuous motion rolled her arms inward so her palms were now facing the ceiling, snapped her forearms together—making his knuckles clunk against each other—and then spread them apart again.
The power and swiftness of the combined movements forced Ky’s hands to fall open, freeing her arms.
Gemma wasted no time.
She stepped behind him and wound one hand around his waist, the other under his chin to try and grab the opposite side of his jaw. The purely male aroma of sweat and hot, sexy, man wafted to her. She bit down the longing to slide her nose along his neck and sniff.
Ky tucked his chin to his chest and turned into her hold, an elbow aimed at her stomach. Gemma felt the intent of his move with her body, so she loosened her hold and took two steps back, dragging him with her.
He snaked a hand under the arm secured at his waist, grabbed her thumb and yanked it back. Pain shot through her palm as she released her hold, a tiny grunt escaping through her lips.
Ky spun to face her. A momentary flash of something crossed his face before his hands went to her throat.
He’d barely tightened into the strangle hold on her neck before Gemma took a step back and to her right side, lifted her left arm high and close to her face and then smashed her elbow down on his inner arms, aiming for the inside notch on his own elbows. The moment his hold was broken, her right hand came up to punch him in the jaw.
Gemma was impressed with Ky’s reflexes when he checked the move by slapping her wrist away and spinning her so her back was to him.
Before she could recover her balance he grabbed her around the midsection with his arms locked and lifted her up, her back plastered against his front as he swayed backward with them.
Gemma snapped her head back, clipping him on the jaw, registered the muffled groan he let out, lifted her knees to her chest and began rocking back and forth.
She’d misjudged his strength.
Instead of his hold slackening from her jerking motions, it tightened around her waist, her back now completely molded to his. Her breathing came in spurts from the effort it took to fight him and the tension of his grip on her body.
“Come on,” he said, so close to her ear his breath warmed her neck, the sensation shooting straight down her spinal column. She was beginning to sweat and knew it wasn’t just from all the physical exercise.
Ky’s body was one long, solid, fortress of muscle and power. Imprisoned against him, his every cord and tendon flexing against her back as he held her securely in place, the heat firing off her body was as much from excitement as it was from the exertion of fighting.
“You should be able to get out of this, easily,” he said. “It’s a rookie maneuver. You learned it in self-defense 101.”
