Read Online Reckless Retribution (West Warriors Book 1) by Gemma Pennington - Free Book Online Page A

up at him through my lashes, scared I was in trouble.
    He carried on with his talk. “There are a number of different pressure points on the body….”
    He started to name them, but I got lost again drinking in his good looks. I knew the features of the other three guys by heart now, but he always stayed the farthest away, so I was never really able to get a close look at him. Except at MusicFest, but that was neither the time nor the place to be blatantly staring at him. His eyes were a lovely deep chocolate brown, framed by short, dark lashes. His nose was perfect—well, perfect for a fighter. It wasn’t bent or broken. His jawline was very angular, and his lips were set into a heart shape. His bottom lip was plump, and the way he held it sometimes made him look like he was pouting. He was clean-shaven, which I loved. His skin looked silky smooth—
    “Do you remember that?” He snapped me out of my daze.
    Shit! What had he just asked me? “Can you repeat it again to make sure?” I asked quickly.
    Using my body, he touched and pressed each pressure point, labeling them as he did, and boy, did it send electric pulses through my body. I was aware my breathing had quickened at his touch, and I hoped he hadn’t realized.
    “Foot.” He stood on top of my foot gently.
    “Groin.” He indicated to himself, and I smirked. I couldn’t help it!
    “Ribs.” He touched the bottom of my ribcage.
    Again, heat flooded through me. I swear it was getting hotter in here.
    “Solar plexus.” He placed his closed fist underneath my breasts in the center point.
    I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his, and I began to bite my lip. I realized this as his eyes lowered to my mouth. I thought about what it would be like to kiss him.
    His eyes met mine again. “Close your fist,” he said quietly. His voice was less firm now.
    I did as he asked, and he clasped his hand over mine then pulled my hand to his solar plexus, indicating where it was on a man’s chest, sans breasts.
    I couldn’t believe I was touching his chest. Holy hell! It was solid. I could feel the quick rise and fall of it as I pressed against it. Yet, he appeared calm.
    I looked up to meet his eyes again. “I need a drink,” I croaked. My voice was hoarse and my throat was dry. I took a big swig of one of the cups of water he had brought in with him then set it down and walked back to stand in front of him.
    “Temple,” he continued, and put his hands on either side of my head, lightly putting pressure on it with his thumbs. After a few seconds, it started to make me feel fuzzy. “You feel that?” He noticed me wincing.
    “Yeah.” I remembered the feeling all too well, when my dad’s hands were round my neck, pressing tightly before I passed out. I blinked the memory away and focused back on him. His fingers gently slid down the side of my face before settling into position on my neck. Ashamedly, I started to breathe out quiet, short breaths of air—or at least I hoped they were quiet.
    “And neck,” he said, as he gently pressed his thumb into my neck where Dad gripped me. I knew the touch from Jamie was different. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, so I felt safe. I felt more than safe. His eyes left his thumb that was still placed on my neck, and he looked me in the eyes for a few seconds before I saw him swallow. “Let’s try some blocking.” He broke contact and released his hand from my neck.
    My emotions were all over the place. I was supposed to be taking in the self-defense moves, but I was too distracted by him to concentrate. I was standing here in the cage for a reason, to learn how to protect myself from my violent, aggressive father, and I needed to get my head and my priorities straight.
    “How rough do you want?” he asked, with a look on his face that I couldn’t place, because I could never read him. But the corners of his mouth were turned up slightly, so I guess that was his crack at a smile. I couldn’t help but worry at his