“Good luck, Kid,” Hud shouted as he went into the locker room to wash up. “Got a feeling you’re going to need it.”
“What’re you talking about?” I asked. “Just teaching her the basics of self-defense. If anything, she ought to be worried about me making her look bad.”
“Is that right?”
Vic’s voice sounded from the other side of the gym. Hud and I turned to see her standing there, anddamn, did she look good. She was dressed in a pair of black shorts that clung to her every curve, the hem stopping just above her knees, and a sports bra, her big breasts hidden behind a zipper that looked on the verge of bursting.
My cock stiffened, and I realized with a panic that I was wearing gym shorts—not the best piece of clothing to hide one’s hard-on in.
I turned. “Yeah, it’s right. I’m not planning on messing around.” As I spoke, I frantically pinched my inner thigh, using an old trick to get my erection to go away. “You get cocky, and you might find yourself on your ass.”
Once my cock was under control, I turned back to her. She was closer, a knowing smile on her face. Vic’s blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, her stunning features on full display. Her hips looked so damn good in those shorts that it was impossible not to imagine grabbing onto them, spinning her around, and screwing her right up against the wall.
“Or maybe you’re the one who’s going to be onhisass.”
Hud laughed off in the distance. “Good luck, you two. Try not to break any bones—nearest hospital’s a long drive off.”
With that, he stepped into the locker room, leaving Vic and me alone.
She stood eight or so feet from me, her demeanor suggesting she was ready to begin.
“Alright,” I said, rolling my shoulders and adjusting my posture. “We’re going to start with the basics of hand-to-hand combat.”
She raised her finger. “First, let me ask you this—what’re your qualifications?”
I laughed. “What, the fact that I’m a trained soldier not good enough for you? How about that I’ve got about four-dozen successful combat ops under my belt.”
“Impressive, I guess.” The playful, teasing smile stayed on her face. “But I want to know where you learned to fight. I mean, I should know if you’re planning on teaching me barroom brawling or something entirely different.”
“Hey, don’t knock barroom brawling. Sometimes all you need to win a fight is the element of surprise and an empty bottle of whatever your lager of choice might be. But let’s stick with the basics for now. You want to know my training? Well, I’ve been taking ju-jitsu since I was a kid, and when I was in the Navy I started an MMA club—one that I dominated for all six years that I was in the service.”
“A Navy guy, huh?”
“That’s right—Navy SEAL, to be specific. Then, after my contract was up, I fell in with these assholes and ironed out all the kinks they had in their own fighting styles. They will more than likely tell you different but if you ask me, I’m easily the best hand-to-hand guy out of all of them.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them up and making her perfect tits even more eye-catching.
“I think that’s a sufficient resume.”
“So glad to hear I’m up to your standards, Princess,” I said with a grin. “Now, you ready to do this?”
She nodded. “I am. Just tell me where to start.”
I looked her up and down. While she was all kinds of curvy, Vic struck me as pretty athletic, too. She had decent muscle on her—enough to make me wonder how she stayed in shape.
“What kind of working out do you do?” I asked.
She shrugged. “A little yoga, some running now and then. Part of my father and brother’s protectiveness involves keeping me away from anything that might be too high impact.”
I grinned. “High impact is what we’re going for. Now, as you can see, there’s a little bit of a height difference between the two of us.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said, giving me a once-over. “As is the case with you and just about everyone else outside of American basketball. You’ve got to be, what, two-hundred centimeters?”
“Not sure what that is, but I’m six-and-a-half feet.”
“Hundred and ninety-eight centimeters.” I paused. The voice didn’t belong to Victoria or me. We both turned to see that it was Ajax. He was seated on the rowing machine, his arm crossed over his knee. “Don’t mind me; just getting the last few reps in.”
I turned my attention back to Victoria. “Well, there you have it. But the exact number doesn’t matter. Whatdoesis the fact there isn’t a chance in hell you’re going to overpower me.”