“You’d better not be thinking what I think you are.” His voice was rough and gravelly, and an involuntary shiver worked its way down my spine.
“Never.” I gave him the look, which usually made people back off. “Now teach me some moves, Jaxson, before I get bored.”
Jaxson cocked his head and regarded me closely, looking confused. Amusement glinted in his eyes. “Where did you learn that?”
I frowned and put my hands on my hips. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“That look on your face.” A faint smile ghosted his lips. “It doesn’t work on me the way you think it does.”
The look worked on everybody. I stared at him blankly, then shrugged. It must not have worked on him because he was an alpha or something.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded impatiently.
He moved so quickly, I barely had time to register his arm wrapping around my neck, constricting my airway.
I couldn’t breathe. Flashbacks of last night swam before my eyes—the demon’s claws around my throat. I fought them down. Jaxson was a man, not a demon.
I elbowed him in the stomach and brought my heel down on his foot.
He released me, though I knew it wasn’t because of anything I’d done. He could probably take a knife to the chest without blinking an eye.
“Good. So you do know some basic self-defense.”
My mom had brought me up to be scrappy. After my parents were gone, I’d just been a kid in a new school with a kooky godmother, which had made me fair game for bullies. I’d had to learn a few moves. Nothing standard—I mainly fought dirty. Whatever worked.
“I thought you were going to show me some moves, not attack me,” I spat.
Without warning, he stepped forward and grabbed my neck. Heat pulsed through his palm and continued straight through me. His grip on my throat was gentle, but knowing that he could end me if he wanted to with just the faintest twist of his wrist sent a thrill through my body. Almost a turn-on, for some deranged reason.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I twisted and brought my elbow down on his arm hard, breaking his grip, then slipped behind him and struck him square in the back with my forearm.
Jaxson spun and grabbed my wrist, then yanked me backward into his chest in a bear hug. Heat flared where my form pressed against his, and my anger blossomed. Why was my body reacting this way?
I elbowed him in the ribs, and he growled in my ear as he pushed me forward. I stumbled on the rocks but stayed upright and twisted to face him. His eyes blazed a deep honey color, and his lips pulled into a twisted smile that was both a warning and an invitation.
Shivers raked my skin, and my pulse quickened. We circled each other. His stance was relaxed and loose, yet he was a predator waiting to strike.
When Jaxson lunged forward, I tried to dash to the side, but his arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest. His fingers were iron, digging into my flesh, and I knew that if he wanted, they could burst into claws. He leaned close and whispered, “You have fire.”
His breath was hot on my neck, and quivers arced down my spine. I couldn’t distinguish fear from desire.
He released his hold and gently pushed me away. “Relax your body and keep your knees bent. You have speed—use it to your advantage.”
I glared at him but relaxed my shoulders and bounced lightly on my knees.
“Good. Now raise your arms.” He positioned his body slightly askew and raised his fists. “One to block an attack, the other to strike.”
He showed me the movements, and I watched closely, memorizing the way his body moved with grace and precision. He was a natural fighter. It was easy to imagine him with claws bared, ripping into men and beasts. Savage. Lethal. Relentless.
Something about that bothered me in all the worst ways.
He’d fight for you. He did it last night.
My skin flushed, and I gritted my teeth, trying to focus on the moves that might save my life and not on all the ways that I wanted Jaxson. I could smell his sweat and power, a druglike combination I craved.