Chapter 12 #2
11:31 A.M.
He was going to say no, and Whitney had zero idea how she was supposed to convince him otherwise.
But she had to.
This was something she needed desperately.
Once she gave the guys her intel, and they used it to finally find Dr. Gardner and kill him, something she was utterly confident that they could and would do, then she’d be leaving there. She’d be all alone in the world, and she didn't have the skills to keep herself safe.
With Dr. Gardner dead, it would eliminate the direct threat to her.
Dead men couldn’t own other people, but he wasn't the only evil person that existed in the world. There was a whole world full of them. She’d met plenty.
The guards who worked for Dr. Gardner and her fellow scientists.
They might not outright hurt, maim, and kill the way the guards did, but they were evil in a different way.
Their indifference to the suffering of the people enduring the trials of the drugs showed their true colors.
Maybe she would never truly feel safe again, but if she at least knew some self-defense maybe it would help her confidence and make her feel like she wasn't completely helpless.
“Please,” she whispered, as though that would make any difference.
After another few tense seconds, Blade gave a sharp nod. “We’ll start now.”
“Now?” she squeaked. That wasn't the response she’d been expecting.
“You really want to do this?”
“I have to,” she answered honestly. “If I don’t, I'm always going to be vulnerable. I know I'll always be smaller than most assailants, but I want to at least know I stand a chance. I don’t want to be helpless ever again.”
Whitney couldn’t help but shudder as all the moments people bigger and stronger than her had used that to their advantage. Blade was amongst them, but like she’d told Rose and Cassandra, she knew he wasn't a monster and understood why he’d done what he did to her.
What she felt for him was … too complicated for her to consider.
Her body responded to his with a womanly hum that she’d never experienced before. Her head knew that he was a potential threat because of who she was and what she’d done, and her heart yearned to have a man like him look at her the way Steel looked at Rose, and the way Dragon looked at Cassandra.
Wishful thinking was what it was. Not only was he never going to look at her with fiery, passionate affection, he certainly didn't want to have sex with someone like her who was so inexperienced she’d never even been kissed.
But he could give her this, and it would have to be enough.
“Okay, now,” she agreed.
“Change into something comfortable that you can move easily in, and we’ll head down to the gym.”
Instead of leaving the room to let her change, he merely turned his back, and her cheeks flamed as she scrambled through her bag and settled on a pair of leggings and a T-shirt.
That should work, and without her even telling him she was done, he seemed to know, because he headed out of the room so sure she would follow.
Which she did.
They headed through the house, her gaze constantly roaming, worrying they would run into one of the others.
Although they’d all been in the kitchen last night while she ate, she wasn't comfortable around them.
They were too big, too strong, too powerful, and they had every reason to want to use that on her.
Thankfully, they didn't see anyone, and they ended up in a huge basement gym with equipment everywhere and a large mat in the center. Blade headed right there. He moved so confidently, aware of his strength and his skills, and prepared to use them any time they were necessary.
Unlike her.
She was never confident, and while she knew she had skills, they weren't the ones she wanted. Her high IQ helped in some situations, but all it had ever gotten her was locked away as someone’s lab slave.
“We’re going to start by working on how you break out of some common holds,” Blade started.
“We’ll need to build up your strength and stamina, so I’ll write up a daily workout plan that will include some self-defense training.
But today, let’s work on some basics. Come over here,” he prompted when she stayed right where she was.
Tentatively, she stepped onto the mat, closing the distance between them. This close, she could all but feel the power rolling off him in waves, and for a second, she doubted herself. This had to be a bad idea, didn't it?
Crazy though it was, she was attracted to this man. He terrified her, there was no doubt about that, but he hadn't left her, he’d saved her life, and last night he’d fought his own teammate to protect her from Dragon’s wrath. Maybe he wasn't a genuine ally, but he was the closest she’d ever had.
“First thing to know is, given your small size, you are never going to be able to beat down any attacker, so that’s not your goal.
Your goal is to just get away. That’s it.
You do what is needed to get free, and then you run.
And you always, always, scream for help.
You would be surprised at the number of attackers who’ll abandon a target if that person screams, because screams draw unwanted attention. ”
“Always scream, I can do that,” she squeaked, already intimidated by this large man, and he hadn't even touched her yet.
“Second thing to know, is this isn’t about brute forcing your way free. That won't work. Again, you're too small. This is about using your head and outsmarting anyone stupid enough to come after you. You should be good at that, shouldn’t you, darlin’? With that big brain of yours.”
His fingers swept across her temples, their touch featherlight, but still she shivered, warmth pooling low in her belly, tingles between her legs.
This man made her feel all sorts of out of control, and usually she hated that, but something about this kind of out of control felt good, empowering even.
“How do I do that?” she asked, a little breathily as he moved behind her.
“You want to catch him by surprise,” he answered. “Throw your center of gravity in a direction he’d not expect, make him have to adjust his grip to keep his hold on you, and then you fight dirty.”
Why did that word have her conjuring up sweaty bodies, claiming kisses, and all-consuming pleasure?
Pushing those thoughts away, Whitney gasped when Blade suddenly banded an arm around her chest, pinning her against him. For a second, she panicked. Her limbs flailed, or tried to, as she attempted to wriggle her way out of his hold.
“Smart, darlin’, not strong,” he reminded her, and she forced herself to still, to take deep breaths and control the fear.
If she didn't learn to control it, it would consume her.
“How do I do the gravity thing?” she asked, her breathing still coming much too fast, but slightly under control.
“Drop, like you passed out, just let it all go, it will force me to shift how I'm holding you even if I try to stop it.”
Trusting his word on that, Whitney forced every cell in her body to obey and then allowed all her weight to sink into Blade’s hold, as though she really had fainted. Just like he said, the arm around her chest moved, because it was either that or drop her.
“This is when you’d play dirty,” Blade coached. “Groin, neck, eyes, you go for something vulnerable. If I were holding you like this, with your arms pinned at your sides, you’d go for my groin.”
Right.
His groin.
His penis.
She’d never seen a real one before, but she could guess what Blade’s would look like.
Long and thick, almost too big to take, but she was sure once it was buried deep inside you, he would know how to use it.
How to work a woman’s body until she was writhing in pleasure, lost to the moment, unable to think because she was too busy feeling.
How nice that must be, to just turn your brain off, rid it of all conscious thought, and just … feel.
“Whitney.”
His large hands closed on her shoulders, and he turned her around to face him. There was concern on his face, his mind obviously taking a very different turn than hers had.
“You okay? I lost you there for a moment.”
Electricity seemed to hum through her system, and for once, Whitney acted without thinking. Curling her hands around the back of his neck, she tugged him down at the same time she pushed up onto her tiptoes and crushed her mouth to his.
It was her first kiss.
Or half kiss.
Did it count if the other person didn't kiss you back?
If they just stood there like they were made of stone, their grip on your shoulders disappearing as their arms dropped to hang loosely at their sides?
He didn't kiss her back.
Of course, he didn't kiss her back.
Mortified, tears burned the backs of her eyes, as her arms dropped to hang limply by her sides. She took a step back, more embarrassed than she’d ever been before in her life.
What had she done?
“Sorry,” she mumbled before she took off at a dead run for the stairs, needing to get away from him. If only she could outrun herself and her own stupidity so easily.
What was she thinking?
Why had she done that?
What was wrong with her?