“Fine, I was both. Can you blame me?”
“No, I can’t, which is why I avoided you after that. I don’t think this whole idea of yours if going to make it any better, though.”
“Please,” she asked again. “I just want to feel safe again.”
Another long exhalation before Dean nodded and undid the cuffs on his long-sleeve shirt. “Fine—but don’t blame me when you decide it was a bad idea.”
* * * *
It was a bad idea.
An hour later, Kat winced at the pain in her hip from when she’d stepped wrong and ended up tumbling onto the hay-covered barn floor. Sweat and dirt covered her, her muscles all ached, but at the same time…
She felt better.
“Remember, it’s about those weak spots. Take those out and your opponent is screwed. Not many full-sized men react well when their goods are treated like a hacky sack.”
Kat tried to implement the moves Olin had taught her, but Dean easily countered each one. It was like he knew what she was going to do before she did.
“Stop playing by the rulebook,” Dean growled into her ear when he pinned her to his chest after she’d failed to land another hit. His voice, low and angry, did plenty to spark to life feelings that had little to do with the fight. “Everyone has a copy of that book, so if you listen only to it, your enemy is already a step ahead.”
She yanked at his hold, her heart racing and having nothing to do with the fight or with fear. How was it that sparring like this could turn her on so much? Maybe it was the way Dean manhandled her, the way it forced her to acknowledge him as a man, the strength and agility in his body and the thoughts of how else it could be put to use…
Whatever it was, Kat struggled to hold in a pitiful moan, hoping Dean didn’t catch onto that.
Still. Her lessons moved in her head, made her think instead of just reacting. His points had been clear the whole time—do the unexpected, get in under an enemy’s guard, get closer to them without them realizing it, and strike hard with whatever she could.
Play dirty.
So Kat let out a sigh.
Dean paused, turning her and loosening his grip. “You okay?”
“I am now,” Kat said, hiding her grin before leaping at him.
The surprise must have worked, because he lost his balance, stumbling backward to keep from falling. Kat twisted, then managed to jump enough onto his back to wrap her arm around his throat. She didn’t do it enough to obstruct his breathing, but her thighs tightened around him to hold on, to keep him from being able to throw her off. The action caused him to trip, and they both tumbled to the ground.
Still, Kat didn’t let go, didn’t relinquish the hold she had on him. Even when the air was knocked from her, even when her side ached from the fall, she held fast.
At least, she did until he tapped her arm. At that, Kat let go, relaxing back on the ground with a breathless laugh. “I won,” she muttered with a grin.
Dean rolled, but his gaze wasn’t anywhere near a happy one. He didn’t look proud—he lookedpissed.
It made her scoot backward, unable to help the reaction, especially given how unusual the look was on Dean’s face.
He jerked his gaze from her and to the wall, as if to collect himself.
Kat scrambled to her feet, though she winced when it made her back hurt.
That must have woken him, because Dean narrowed his eyes on her. After a moment, he nodded toward the house. “Let’s go.”
Kat gulped but followed, unsure how she could be so anxious and yet so turned on at the same time…
* * * *
Dean sighed as he moved the wet rag over Kat’s ribs. She’d taken a hard fall and scraped herself. Thankfully, nothing seemed broken, so it was just a matter of the skin and probably some bruises.
Not that that helped his attitude at all. He’d kept his mouth shut, not wanting to snap at the girl, especially because he knew he had no good reason to do so.