“Okay, we start from the beginning.”
He spends the next hour showing me how to properly make a fist so I don’t break any fingers, how to use the force of my body to help my momentum, and where I should even be aiming. Turns out I don’t know shit about fighting, but by the time the basics are out of the way, I feel like I might actually be able to get one good hit in so I can turn and run like hell, which he has drilled into me over and over again is all I’m doing.
“Don’t stay and fight,zaichik. You get a hit in so you can get free and run like hell.” He points to his crotch and then his throat and nose. “Don’t be afraid to fight dirty either. If someone grabs you, then it’s a bad guy, and there are no rules when you’re fighting bad guys, especially when you’re a woman. Do as much fucking damage as you can because chances are you’re only going to get one shot at it.”
I nod my head and try to remember every single thing he’s teaching me. This is important shit for women to know, and I can’t help but think that I have way more use for this kind of knowledge than that fucking algebra class I was forced to take in high school. We spend the whole morning going over some basic defensive moves and how best to get out of holds. I know he’s taking this super seriously because when he comes up and grabs me from behind, he doesn’t get sidetracked when I rub my ass against his cock. He does get hard, just not sidetracked.
“Behave,” he growls in my ear. “Get out of this hold, and I’ll let you take a break for breakfast.”
“How very kind of you,” I growl because I’m hungry and sweaty and sore.
He laughs and holds me tighter. After twisting and turning and fighting with everything I have and noticing that it’s not having the slightest effect on him, aside from the erection poking into my back, I finally take a deep breath and remember what he’s spent all morning teaching me. I grab onto his wrist, digging my fingers into the pressure points he told me about and stomp my foot down on his as hard as I can. The grunt he gives is unbelievably satisfying. I bet that first grader didn’t do that. I dig my fingers even harder into the pressure points and feel his arm give just enough for me to slide out.
“I did it!” I shout, giving him a huge grin.
He smiles and shakes out his foot. “You did, baby, but if this was for real, then you should’ve turned around and punched me in the neck or nose and then kicked me in the balls and run like hell.”
“I will,” I promise him. “Is your foot okay? I shouldn’t have kicked you so hard.”
He cups my face and smiles. “I wanted you to. You’re getting better, but we’re going to practice this over and over again for the next three days.”
“Awesome,” I say, making him laugh at my sarcastic tone.
He picks me up, not caring one bit that I’m covered in sweat and haven’t showered. The sports bra and shorts he gave me leave plenty of skin bare, so when he pulls me tighter, our sweaty skin meets and I let out a soft moan when I slide against him.
“See, training can be fun,” he says, smiling at the reaction he’s having on me.
“It’s not fair. All you have to do is take off your shirt and shoot me one of those broody scowls of yours and I’m putty in your hands.”
He laughs and starts to carry me back upstairs. “One of my broody scowls, huh?”
“Yes, you’re annoyingly good at them.”
Stopping halfway up the stairs, he leans down and runs his tongue over the cleavage this sports bra is giving me.
“That’s so not fair,” I whisper when he pulls back and gives me a wink.
“Now you know exactly how I feel every second of every damn day since I met you.” He gives my ass a not-so-soft spank. “Be a good girl and you’ll get rewarded later. First, you need to work some more. After breakfast we need to start your weapons training.”
“I think your plan is to make me quit before the fundraiser.”
He doesn’t deny it. All I get is another sexy wink and a smack on the ass. He can try to get me to back out of this plan all he wants, but it’s not going to work. I know how important this is for him. He needs that damn computer, and I’m going to get it for him. It’s as simple as that.
Two more days of training and I feel like every muscle I have in my body has been strained. Everything hurts. I wasn’t in horrible shape, at least I didn’t think I was, but I guess I hadn’t been using my combat muscles. I think some parts of my body are being used for the very first time. I’m excited about everything I’ve learned, and I can see the obvious progress I’ve made, but I’m still really hoping that I won’t need to use any of this. The idea of going up against a man more than twice my size is not appealing. I love a kick-ass woman as much as the next person, but watching it on a movie and living it in real life are two very different things. I’d much rather cheer from the couch with a bowl of popcorn in my lap while I’m snuggled up next to my man.
When Mikhail suggests we go into the city to pick out a dress, I’m more than ready to get out of the house and away from his torture chamber gym. We take the black Porsche he ate me out on, and when he catches me looking at the hood, he gives me a sinfully wicked smile that sends a little flutter all through me.
I get in and try to get myself under control. I still can’t believe that I’m going to be married to this man. My eyes drift to the ring on my finger, every sparkly diamond a reminder that I am in fact engaged to Mikhail Fedorov. It seems like a fairytale, like something out of a damn movie. I push aside all the worries that start to spring up, the voices in my head that whisper something’s going to go wrong, that he’ll realize he’s made a mistake and ask someone like Chantal to be his wife instead.
I’m still worrying my bottom lip when we pull into a parking spot in front of a cute boutique-style store that I would never have gone into before because the price tags are probably insane. Hell, it’s probably one of those stores that I’ve heard about where they don’t even put price tags on anything because if you have to ask…
Mikhail turns to me and cups my face, studying me with those dark eyes that never miss a damn thing. “So quiet today,zaichik.”
“I’m just sore. You’ve worn me out.” I give a forced laugh, and he looks at me like he’s disappointed, and that look cuts me to the quick.
“I thought we were past lies.”
“It’s stupid,” I finally say.