“I'm tough on you because I want you to survive,” he said. “I don't want you hurt out there.”
Forcing myself to calm, I latched onto his wrists. He squeezed tighter, just hard enough to remind me of Breathless. What he didn't know was that it took more to cut off my airways than it required for most people. Took longer to render me unconscious, too.
Who would have thought there would be a bright side to drug use?
I can do this. I can. I bent down, bringing Ryan with me and letting his weight fall onto my back.
“What are you doing?” he bit out.
Using all of my leg strength, I crouched and bucked up my butt, flinging Ryan over my head. He hit and rolled, forced to let go of me. I wasn't given any time to gloat, though.
“Good thinking,” he said, swiping out his arms and knocking my ankles together.
I crashed to my butt, hard. But before I even hit, he was on top of me, his knees at my temples, his, uh, crotch at my throat. As I gasped and struggled, he pinned my shoulders to the ground and gave me the rest of his weight.
“What are you going to do now?” he asked.
Panting, I stared up at him. Damn it! I had tried, but he'd still beat me quickly and easily and the knowledge stung. “Pout,” I snapped. “I'm going to pout.”
He nearly choked on a laugh. Good. It would save me the trouble of killing him later. “No reason to pout,” he said. “All you have to do is work one of your legs between us and kick. Got it?”
I nodded, but didn't attempt it. The longer he stayed where he was, the more I realized I, uh, kind of liked it.
“You did good, Phoenix. Real good.”
“No, I didn't,” I grumbled. “You're just trying to make me feel better.”
“Is it working?”
“No. I can do better than this.”
“Really? What could you have done differently?”
“I don't know. Jam my palm into your nose, sending cartilage into your brain. Chop block your throat, crushing your trachea. Knee your balls, making you cough them out.”
His eyes sparkled with pride. “Funny.”
“True.”
“But you did none of those things. And you know why?” His lips twitched as he fought a grin. “No killer instinct. Just. Like. I. Told. You.”
Anger rocked me to the bone. No killer instinct. Grrr. I'd show him! “You wanna see killer instinct? I'll show you killer instinct.”
He released me and stood. He even motioned me over. “Do it, then. I dare you.”
I stood to shaky legs, and we faced off. “Sure you're ready for this?”
“Come and get me, sweetheart. I'm ready for whatever you've got to give, sweetheart.”
I didn't leap into action, but circled him. As I walked I lost the heat of my anger. I lost my “killer instinct.” Not that I'd ever had one. Not with Ryan. We both knew I'd been blowing smoke. I just wanted him. Only him. I wanted him back on top of me, kissing me. Finally.
He watched me, followed my every move with his heated gaze. “That's it? That's all you've got?”
“Maybe.”
His brows winged into his hairline. “What are you waiting for? Attack,” he commanded.
I almost grinned. “I'm stalking.”
He barked out another laugh and threw his arms in the air. “Stalking like this won't scare your enemy.”
I might want him, and I might have lost my instinct, but I didn't hesitate. While he was distracted, I attacked. I spun, using my speed and momentum to kick. My foot connected with his stomach. Gasping, he bent over. I rushed him, slamming my elbow into the top of his head.
Crack.
He fell to his face. And he didn't move. I'd hit him harder than I'd meant to. But he should have been able to handle it. Right? Surely. He had to be playing. Eyes narrowed, I kicked him in the side.
He didn't make a nosie.
My heart drummed erratically in my chest. Oh God. Oh no. “Ryan?”
No response.
“Ryan?”
Still nothing.
Ohmygod! What had I done? “Ryan, I'm sorry. So sorry.” I bent down and gently clasped his shoulder, meaning to ease him to his back. Before I could blink, he had a vise grip on my wrist and flipped me to my back. “What the—” I hit and he rolled on top of me, squishing the breath from my lungs.
Once again, I was pinned.
“Told you,” he said, grinning. “No killer instinct. And that's like the oldest trick ever.”
“You dirty little—”
“Uh, uh, uh.” He tsk ed under his tongue. “You lost. Twice. Accept it.”
“Hell no. You cheated.”
“Whether you lose by trickery or not, you still lose. Fighting dirty is more than okay, it's expected. Haven't I taught you that?”
I gnashed my molars together. “I was winning.”
“Was doesn't matter. Only the end matters.” His face inched closer to mine. So close. “How do you get out of this position?”
“Try to knee you in the balls?”
He laughed. “No. That would cause me to double over, closer to you, and I'd still be able to hit you. You'd work your knees up and kick me in the stomach, like I told you before.”
“Maybe later,” I whispered. I could feel his breath on my nose. I could feel him all over, in fact. And I liked it. I bit my bottom lip. I liked it a lot.
He lost all trace of amusement, and his eyes darkened hungrily. His breathing became choppy. He knew what I was thinking because he was obviously thinking it, too. “This is stupid,” he said.
“Yes.”
“This is wrong.”
“Yes.” But why did it feel so right?
“Do you care?”
I didn't hesitate. “Not right now.”
I'd barely gotten the words out before he was kissing me. His tongue swept into my open, waiting mouth and his taste consumed my thoughts. Decadent. Exquisite. Wonderful. Better than anything I could have imagined.
His hands tangled in my hair, and he angled my face for deeper contact. His lips were soft, hungry, and he fed me pure passion. Something I'd never really experienced before.
“I want you,” he panted.
“Yes.” Yes, yes, yes.
If he stopped kissing me, I'd…I'd…I don't know. I wound my hands around him, anchoring one at the base of his neck, one at his waist, holding him captive. I lifted up and thrust my tongue back into his mouth.
He moaned. I groaned.
Delicious.
Of course I'd been kissed before, but all those times faded from my mind. There was only here, now, and Ryan. He was strength, and he was fire. He was everything just then. I felt inexperienced. I felt vulnerable.