I’m hoping not to embarrass myself in training this morning with Taylor, but when she strolls into the classroom wearing a tank top and tiny black shorts, all bets are off.
Today I’m showing her some moves standing up, so it should help that she won’t be straddling me. My mind drifts at the thought…
“Colt?” Taylor’s voice draws me back.
I clear my throat, blinking the thought away. “Ready?”
She nods eagerly.
“Come here. I’m going to teach you how to get out of a choke hold.” As she walks over, I get a whiff of her sweet vanilla scent. It puts all my senses on high alert.
I secure her in a choke hold with her back against the wall and shudder remembering the way Lars gripped her neck. I step in close to her, shielding her with my body. “Try to free yourself.”
She grips my arms and pulls against them. But my hands don’t budge from her neck.
“Okay, you’ve made your point.” She blows a strand of hair from her face. “So how do I get out?”
I smile. “If the person is much stronger than you, you’re not going to be able to break the hold. And you’ll only have a few brief seconds before you pass out. So here’s what you do. Put your hands together like you’re praying.”
She does, pressing her palms together in front of her.
“Good. Now bring your hands up in between my arms.”
She wedges her hands between us.
“Now grab my head.”
She lifts an eyebrow, giving me a strange look, but after a second, rests her hands on either side of my face. We’re locked together, my hands still firmly around her neck, and now her hands hold my head in place.
“Stab your thumbs straight into my eyes.”
She places her thumbs over my eyes.
“You’ll drive them in, pushing me away and freeing yourself from the wall.”
She pushes against me, thrusting my head back from her.
“Excellent. Finish with a knee to the groin and then run.”
She swiftly brings her knee up between my thighs. Holy shit! I dodge the blow in time and catch her knee, gripping it between my hands.
“Let’s be careful with that.”
She smiles wickedly.
Is she teasing me? Her bare knee is soft and smooth, her skin is incredible. I carefully lower her leg to the ground. “Behave.”
She smirks.
I glide my hand slowly up the length of her leg before fully standing, only dropping it when my fingers reach the hem of her shorts.
Her breath hitches and her big blue eyes meet mine, puzzled.
We catch our breath for a few moments, then repeat the move several times. On the third time through, Taylor has this down and we take a break to grab some water.
She sits on the gym floor, tilting her water bottle back, taking a long drink.
“You did well today.”
She looks down, toying with the hem of her shorts. “Thanks.”
“I think you’ll be more than ready for your next field assignment.”
She’s quiet like she’s thinking about what I just said. “You said that not all assignments were like our last one. How many field assignments have you been on?”
“Too many to count.” McAllister has been sending me out, mostly at my insistence, since I was a first year here. “I’ve been to Germany, Amsterdam, London, New York, and countless other places.”
She looks up at me in awe.
“And most times things are low key. In, out, job done. A few other times, though – like with Lars, shit goes awry.”
She gulps.
“But that’s why we train.”
She nods. “I guess that makes sense. Have you ever been hurt?”
“Of course.”
“What happened?” She draws her legs up to her chest and rests her chin on her knees.
“One time in Bangalore I got in a knife fight. I was unarmed, and had been up for two days straight plus jet legged, and um, a little drunk.”
“Drunk?”
“Yeah, stupid, I know, but I was more reckless in my younger years.”
Her eyebrows shoot up.
“Anyways, I survived.” I lift the edge of my T-shirt, pointing out the tiny white scar along my lower stomach.
“Oh.” Her breath hisses out in a sympathetic sound. She brings her index finger to the scar and traces it gently. Her touch is light and graceful.
“I’m fine – really, Taylor.” But I can’t deny, her concern is sweet. It’s more than McAllister did – he told me to man up and that was it.