Avenged (Altered #2)(29)

Prepare for any event. Have an attack ready. Strike as fast and as hard as she could. Fast because speed was her best asset, and hard because she could only count on one opportunity.

She’d asked for his help. He’d reminded her of that over and over. After they’d had their conversation the first day, when he’d explained his reservations about teaching her, he’d thrown himself into her training like a man obsessed.

But not obsessed with her. In fact, since that conversation—after telling her that he wanted more than friends, that he wanted her—he’d been true to his word. He’d been a complete gentleman. He’d been respectful of her personal space, and he’d never spoken of it again, as he’d promised. He’d even reined in his thoughts, for the most part.

His touch had stayed completely platonic, as if they were related or really good buddies.

And they’d touched a lot. In fact, they’d spent the last three days wrestling with each other.

The more they touched, the more she craved his arms around her.

It was maddening. She’d been the one to draw the line in the sand. Yet, she was the one who wanted to stay in his arms. She was the one who inhaled too deeply when she was pressed against his chest. She was the one who couldn’t stop staring at him.

In that time, she’d only caught something different in him one time. It had been two days ago, the second full day of training. She closed her mind to him when they weren’t practicing, but she needed to hear his thoughts when they were working out so she could learn how to use her power to her advantage.

They’d fallen. He’d gone down on his butt then rolled onto his back, and she’d landed on top of him. His hands had been on her waist. Their faces had been so close she could feel his breath on her forehead. His brain had buzzed with wanting.

It had been an echo of what was coursing through her…the heat, the need to touch him.

They’d frozen like that until he gently but firmly moved her off of him and scrambled to his feet. As he’d moved away from her, she’d seen it.

Something like longing.

His jaw tightened, and his brows lowered. Then, it was gone from his mind, replaced by his determination. Always his determination. He drove her on and on, teaching with more patience than she’d ever seen in anyone, forcing whatever was happening between them to the recesses of himself.

But in that moment, she’d wanted to reach for him. She’d had to stop herself from crawling to him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and place her lips on his perfect mouth.

She’d shaken her head, filed that away until the night. As she’d lain in her bed, she’d remembered that look and those thoughts. She only fell asleep because she knew he wanted her well rested to run through their workout the next day. She didn’t want to let him down.

Yesterday, it began again. His impersonal touch and professional advice. All day.

And her fingers itched to touch him.

Behind her, he gave her directions she didn’t need to hear again. She didn’t listen to them.

But when his arms wrapped around her, she channeled her confusion and frustration into doing what he wanted. Her hands met in a prayer position and shot straight up over her head. She arched her back and smacked her hands against his ears.

If she’d hit him hard, it would have done some damage, but she only patted him.

“Yes. Very good.” His words rumbled through his chest, and she felt it against her back. Facing away from him, her arms up and around his neck, she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and tilted her head back, unable to resist the feel of his arms around her. “Now what?” he whispered in her ear.

In another situation, this embrace could have been sensual. Her thoughts filled in the details, imagined his hands trailing along her arms. Her breasts tightened.

She swallowed hard, opened her eyes, and forced herself to finish the fight sequence. She stepped down gently on his right foot and turned. His arms slacked around her, and she brought up her knee in what would have been a groin shot if she’d intended to harm him.

“Well done.” As always, his praise warmed her. But the gritty timbre of his voice sent a shiver through her stomach. Instead of stepping out of his arms, as she’d done every other time they’d run through this particular sequence today, she allowed herself to look up, into his eyes.

The heat there stole her breath. That look said he still wanted her, that nothing had changed since the first day here. His hands ran along her spine, slowly and with infinite care. She leaned in. Like he was a snake charmer, and she was under his spell.

Even as she watched, he tamped down on everything inside himself. His jaw tightened, and he dropped his hands. Then he turned away. With his back to her, he stretched his neck from side to side and shook out his arms. He paced a bit, marching with high knees. When he finally turned back, he was the same as before.

Her instructor. Her friend.

“Again,” he said.

She launched herself into his arms.

He caught her easily, his whole body tense. He held her tightly against his chest and glanced behind her in concern. As if preparing for an adversary. Ready to protect her.

She clasped him to her, pulling him as close as she could, and placed her mouth on his.

He inhaled sharply, and his fingers pushed into her back reflexively. She pulled away, even though the feel of his full lips under hers was heady, sending shivers along her neck. She gazed up at him, holding her breath, waiting for him to take what she wanted to give him. Waiting for him to give her what she wanted, too.