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Talking Dirty(9)

By:Cheryl McIntyre


It doesn’t matter what it can or cannot do for me. I can just sit back and enjoy it while it lasts. And when it ends, it ends.

I push myself off the floor and grab my purse. I can’t stall any longer. He knows where I live anyway. I’m about to turn the doorknob just as someone knocks in a succession of four quick raps.

Several seconds pass as I stand here. Frozen. I don’t really know if someone can knock with authority, especially when this isn’t their home, but I just know Link is on the other side of the door.

He’s probably here to give me a ride to work, but I’ll never know if I don’t open the door. It’s just a door, and he’s just a guy, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to turn the handle.

The knocks sound again, louder this time, causing me to startle. I inhale a deep breath and pull the door open. Link stands there with several shopping bags in hand. He doesn’t wait for me to invite him in. He nudges past me and walks straight into my kitchen, setting the bags on the counter. I watch silently as he opens the refrigerator and begins emptying the bags.

“You bought me groceries?”

“You needed them,” he answers without looking away from his task. “I don’t know what you like, so I just kept it basic. Milk, eggs, cheese, bread, juice.” He glances back at me with a smirk. “And some fruit and vegetables.”

Most women would be grateful and say as much. But I’m not most women. And I’m trying really hard to establish some kind of line with him.

“You might as well take the healthy shit home with you. I’m on an alcohol diet.”

He straightens and swings the door shut before turning to face me. “It’s all healthy,” he says.

I press my lips together and raise my eyebrows.

Link chuckles as his gaze meets mine. “I knew you’d do this.”

“Do what?” I ask innocently.

“I’m not taking anything back. If you don’t want it, don’t eat it. But you’ll need your strength for what I have in store for you tonight.”

That gets my attention. “What you have in store for me? Tonight?”

He prowls toward me, closing the distance between us. His fingers skim my hips, finding their way just under the hem of my shirt with ease. Goose bumps erupt up my arms.

“Tonight,” he murmurs, his breath puffing against my hair on both of the T’s. “I’m going to work you hard.” His fingers slide higher, caressing my ribs. “Make you sweat.” Higher still until his thumbs brush back and forth across the underside of my breasts. “Through the entire class.”

Damn.

I step back, glaring at him and he grins. It’s the only thing that saves him. “You’re kind of an asshole,” I inform him.

He grins wider and it has a direct effect on my girly parts. “I’m not finished.” He tugs me back to him, pressing me close to his body. And I don’t hate it.

“If you’re a good student, after class, I’ll let you help me clean up.”

I crinkle my nose. “You’re just making it worse.”

Link brings his mouth to my ear, letting his lips stroke feather light as he continues. “I don’t mean clean the gym. These classes make me very dirty.”

Hm. Visions of Link, naked and sweaty, fill my mind. I think I can handle that. And I also think I’m looking forward to self-defense class tonight.





Nine

Link



I keep my eyes on Rocky during the warm-up. I’m half expecting her to run again. All I can do is hope I gave her enough incentive to want to see this class through. She needs this. She needs to feel the power she so desperately craves. And this class can give it to her.

I can give it to her.

Her gaze locks onto mine as I step up front. I clear my throat, ready to begin. “What’s the first thing you do if someone approaches you in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable?” I ask the class.

“Yell,” several of the women say in unison.

I grin, proud of these ladies and the fact that they retain the knowledge I offer them. “That’s right. Yell, scream, growl. Clap your hands, stomp your feet. I don’t care. Just make noise. The louder the better. Draw attention and let the asshole know you’re not an easy target. Hell, make him think you’re too damn crazy to mess with. But,” I pause, moving my gaze over each person, “if that doesn’t work, you fight. You fight with everything you have. If an attacker’s gone far enough to grab you, then he’s serious. You hurt him before he can hurt you.

“Your goal is to get your attacker to the ground before he has a chance to get you. You’ll have about three to five seconds. Try to stay calm. Three seconds isn’t long, but it’s enough if you know what you’re doing. There are several places on a man that you want to focus on. A strike to the proper place can buy you time to get away.”