Page 38 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
Giorgio clears his throat and casts a look at the wall. “Is there something particular you’d like to learn today?”
I rake through my brain, looking for an idea. I’m sure if I asked, he’d take the lead, but it feels like Iearnedthis chance to direct the rest of the lesson. Might as well choose something that’s interesting to me.
The obvious thing would be to try and reenact one of the situations with Lazaro, but the thought of attempting that makes my stomach hollow out. I’m nowhere close to ready.
Then it comes to me. A memory from before my life went to shit.
At my private school, there were rarely any fights, but in my third year, there was one fight that everyone talked about for weeks afterward. It broke out in the cafeteria—two guys discovered they were dating the same girl. One of them was the captain of the swim team. The other, an amateur boxer. They threw punches for a little bit, but then the bigger swim captain pinned the boxer to the wall, his hands around his throat. The size difference worked in his favor because the boxer couldn’t reach him in that position. He was turning blue by the time security broke it up. Both of them ended up expelled.
I glance at Giorgio. “How would I get away if someone bigger than me pinned me to a wall?”
His eyes narrow, and his jaw hardens. “Has someone done that to you?” he asks, his voice razor edged.
I shake my head. “No. I just watched a fight once, and the guy who was pinned couldn’t get away.”
His shoulders lower. “That’s what you want to learn?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. Go stand by the wall.”
When my back is pressed against the cold plaster and he stops a step away from me, my pulse picks up speed. Suddenly, I’m not so sure this is a good idea. With the wall behind me, there’s nowhere for me to go. My insides flutter with nerves and vulnerability.
“In this fight, how was the guy held?”
“The other one put both hands around his neck.”
Giorgio’s expression grows very serious. Slowly, he brings up his big palms and wraps them lightly around my neck. “Like this?”
My eyes widen as the flutters travel downwards and settle in the place between my legs. An unexpected wave of arousal slams into me, soaking me through with heat, and leaving me hyperaware of how close we are.
I blink. Am I seriously turned on right now? Jesus. So that’s what does it for me—the sensation of a gorgeous Camorrista’s hands wrapped around my neck. No wonder I’ve never felt this way before. No one else in my life would dare touch me like this.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Something licks at the edges of Giorgio’s gaze. His grip tightens around my throat by a minuscule amount, and my skin begins to burn from the inside out. My nipples harden. Thank God, I wore my thickest work-out bra today.
“Grab my right wrist with your right hand,” he instructs, his voice low. “Then use your left hand to grab one of my fingers.”
I take his wrist and reach over my shoulder to slide one of his thick fingers, pressed against the side of my neck, into my palm.
“Now pull, as if you’re trying to break it.”
I swallow, making my throat roll against his palms. “Like this?” Gently, I bend his finger backward.
“Harder.”
The thought of moving the appendage to an unnatural angle makes me wince. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’ll let go of you before you can.”
I’m not sure I want you to let go of me.
“Okay.” I do as he says, and he drops his hands, but he brings them right back up.
“Good. Again.”
His big palms land on my exposed collarbones and then travel up until his thumb and index finger form a collar around my flesh. His forearms flex, making the tendons and the thick veins beneath his skin ripple. His hold on me is light, but if he wanted to, he’d have no problem crushing my windpipe in a second.
