Rebel Dragon by Anna Lowe
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A bead of sweat built on her brow as Jenna concentrated on the feel of Connor’s body and the angle of the knife. The position of his elbow as he demonstrated the move, and the way the blade turned in her hand. Somehow, sensual and practical became one, and it didn’t matter which was which anymore.
“Now push my arm away, and aim here…” he murmured, pointing at a dip in his collarbone.
She was tempted to aim her lips there instead, but okay. As long as she got to stay this close to him…
Even cold and calculating terms like dig for the clavicular artery or go for the soft tissue of the neck wafted like clouds across the sky of her mind.
Connor started changing up his moves, catching her off guard, making the exercise more realistic. Then he pinned her arms behind her back. She wiggled and grunted, struggling to get free.
“So, are you ready to give up?” he asked, an inch from her ear.
Her blood rushed. “Hell no.”
He chuckled. “Good.”
He showed her how to break out of that hold, too, which was her favorite move yet. She got to go from having her back held firmly against Connor’s chest to turning to face him from an inch away.
“Now, let’s suppose he pushes you to the ground…” Connor said, hooking his foot around hers.
She didn’t fall because he lowered her gently and followed her down, pinning her knife hand above her head. His knees came down on either side of her hips, and his bare chest came parallel to hers.
Not a single alarm went off in Jenna’s mind, because it wasn’t intimidating at all. Just…good. Solid. Snug and secure. Her body was all achy, though, and her lips yearned for his.
“So you need to consider your options,” he said in a slightly hoarse voice.
Oh, she was considering her options, all right. Like using her free hand to guide his head down and get those hungry lips within reach.
His mouth opened and closed. A bead of sweat slid down his brow. That tic started up in his right cheek exactly as it had the night they’d kissed.
“Am I doing this right?” she mumbled, running her free hand along his ribs.
Connor closed his eyes and held perfectly still. “Too right,” he rasped.
Good. Then she’d do it a little more.
“I found a problem,” she whispered, tilting her head so that her hair swung away from her eyes.
“What problem?” His gaze dropped to her lips.
“What if I don’t want to get free?”
His nostrils flared, and he lowered his body until his chest rested on hers. Most of the weight was on his arms, making his biceps bulge.
“That is a problem,” he rumbled. “Especially since I don’t want to let you go.”