she had given him her dinner invite. “You’re on.”
T he gloves felt heavy on her hands as she hit the bag in front of her. What was her reward for taking Mac to do something fun yesterday?
Torture.
Seriously, the man was trying to torture her. What was supposed to be thirty easy seconds of hitting the bag felt like a damn eternity. The searing pain started in her knuckles, traveled up her arms, and settled in her shoulder blades until the entire length of her limbs and back were screaming in pure agony.
Since they’d returned to Lance’s barn thirty minutes ago, Mac had been mean like this. First making her “warm up” by jumping rope. She hadn’t jumped rope since she was a kid, but Mac had made it look so damn simple, like he and that stupid rope were one, she’d figured it would be like riding a bike. Yeah-freaking-right.
Seconds after she’d started, her calves had ignited into a fiery storm that had her wanting to beg for a time-out. Though breaks proved unnecessary, since she’d had plenty of those while untangling herself from the blasted rope every fifteen seconds. Mac hadn’t hidden his enjoyment at her ineptitude, either, which had earned him a thorough sticking out of her tongue. His laughter had boomed through the room, making the torture worth it—then.
Not so much later, which had included way too many burpees—no one in the history of ever should have to do these evil things—drop squats—what was wrong with regular squats?—then he’d strapped some thingamajig around her waist that was attached to a flipping huge-ass weight, and made her run across the barn—these men were nuts—before shuffling her onto the bag.
“Done.” He clicked a timer he held in his hand.
She groaned and dropped her arms. “You’re a complete ass, you know that?”
Mac grinned. “What? The poor girly-girl can’t keep up?”
At having her words from earlier tossed back at her, she chuckled softly. “This girly-girl can think of a few better ways to work up a sweat than killing my arms.” She ripped off her gloves, tossed them on the ground, and walked the tips of her fingers across his forearm. “Come on, handsome, why don’t you show me some body-to-body combat?”
Red crept into Mac’s face. God, he was so easy. With a grin, she dropped her hands and went over to the black mat covering the middle of the floor. “I’ve watched Lance train a few times. How about putting me in one of those holds and letting me squirm around?”
“You’ve watched Lance train?”
That was what he took from her suggestion? Jeez. “Skylar likes to watch him. I’ve sat in a couple of times.”
Mac’s lips pressed together, then he shook his head. “Okay. Which move do you want to try?”
She blinked. Holy crap. He was game. Quickly flipping through her limited knowledge of MMA, she decided to focus on the one that would get her pressed closest to Mac.
“There’s one Lance did that was really interesting to watch,” she said, trying to keep an innocent expression in place as she delivered the rest of her description. “He wrapped his legs around the other guy’s head.”
Mac’s eyes widened a fraction. “You want to try a triangle choke?” A croak cracked his voice and made her struggle to keep up the innocent charade.
“Is that what it’s called? It looked…intense. Can you show me how it’s done?”
The conflicted expression she’d seen a couple of times crossed his face. As though he wanted to, but didn’t, at the same time. She remained silent, letting him make the decision without pressure from her. If he said no, or tried to get her to do a different hold, she’d let him off the hook.
“Okay. Lie on your back on the mat.”
She had to stop herself from doing a giddy dance. The man was slowly warming up to her. When he’d completely thawed, she wanted the attraction he was fighting to be filled to the brim with all the naughty images she’d deliberately put in his head.
She
T he gloves felt heavy on her hands as she hit the bag in front of her. What was her reward for taking Mac to do something fun yesterday?
Torture.
Seriously, the man was trying to torture her. What was supposed to be thirty easy seconds of hitting the bag felt like a damn eternity. The searing pain started in her knuckles, traveled up her arms, and settled in her shoulder blades until the entire length of her limbs and back were screaming in pure agony.
Since they’d returned to Lance’s barn thirty minutes ago, Mac had been mean like this. First making her “warm up” by jumping rope. She hadn’t jumped rope since she was a kid, but Mac had made it look so damn simple, like he and that stupid rope were one, she’d figured it would be like riding a bike. Yeah-freaking-right.
Seconds after she’d started, her calves had ignited into a fiery storm that had her wanting to beg for a time-out. Though breaks proved unnecessary, since she’d had plenty of those while untangling herself from the blasted rope every fifteen seconds. Mac hadn’t hidden his enjoyment at her ineptitude, either, which had earned him a thorough sticking out of her tongue. His laughter had boomed through the room, making the torture worth it—then.
Not so much later, which had included way too many burpees—no one in the history of ever should have to do these evil things—drop squats—what was wrong with regular squats?—then he’d strapped some thingamajig around her waist that was attached to a flipping huge-ass weight, and made her run across the barn—these men were nuts—before shuffling her onto the bag.
“Done.” He clicked a timer he held in his hand.
She groaned and dropped her arms. “You’re a complete ass, you know that?”
Mac grinned. “What? The poor girly-girl can’t keep up?”
At having her words from earlier tossed back at her, she chuckled softly. “This girly-girl can think of a few better ways to work up a sweat than killing my arms.” She ripped off her gloves, tossed them on the ground, and walked the tips of her fingers across his forearm. “Come on, handsome, why don’t you show me some body-to-body combat?”
Red crept into Mac’s face. God, he was so easy. With a grin, she dropped her hands and went over to the black mat covering the middle of the floor. “I’ve watched Lance train a few times. How about putting me in one of those holds and letting me squirm around?”
“You’ve watched Lance train?”
That was what he took from her suggestion? Jeez. “Skylar likes to watch him. I’ve sat in a couple of times.”
Mac’s lips pressed together, then he shook his head. “Okay. Which move do you want to try?”
She blinked. Holy crap. He was game. Quickly flipping through her limited knowledge of MMA, she decided to focus on the one that would get her pressed closest to Mac.
“There’s one Lance did that was really interesting to watch,” she said, trying to keep an innocent expression in place as she delivered the rest of her description. “He wrapped his legs around the other guy’s head.”
Mac’s eyes widened a fraction. “You want to try a triangle choke?” A croak cracked his voice and made her struggle to keep up the innocent charade.
“Is that what it’s called? It looked…intense. Can you show me how it’s done?”
The conflicted expression she’d seen a couple of times crossed his face. As though he wanted to, but didn’t, at the same time. She remained silent, letting him make the decision without pressure from her. If he said no, or tried to get her to do a different hold, she’d let him off the hook.
“Okay. Lie on your back on the mat.”
She had to stop herself from doing a giddy dance. The man was slowly warming up to her. When he’d completely thawed, she wanted the attraction he was fighting to be filled to the brim with all the naughty images she’d deliberately put in his head.
She
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