Flash Point

by Brooke Blaine

  Sliding down to the ground, she cried out in hoarse wails for her mother, for help, for it all to stop and be some kind of fucking nightmare. With her forehead against the door, she reached up and punched the button, over and over, unable to hold back her blood-curdling screams that matched her mother’s before overtaking them when a single gunshot sounded—

  Wake up, her mind screamed. Wake up!

  Gasping, she shot up in the bed and clutched her chest. Her heart was beating too fast, her hands sweaty, but as she looked around the dark room, she remembered where she was.

  In her room.

  In the apartment surrounded by bodyguards who wouldn’t let anyone touch her.

  She was safe.

  For now.

  “DAMN, THAT MUSCLE relaxer knocked me out last night,” Kirkpatrick said with a groan as he walked into the kitchen the next morning, stretching his arms over his head. Audible cracks were heard as he leaned from side to side before rubbing his lower back. “Maybe I’m just getting old.”

  Jason smirked from where he sat at the bar, and shook his head. “I’ve got you beat, so I doubt it’s time to break out the orthopedic mattress.”

  Opening the fridge and taking out a pint of half and half, Kirkpatrick said, “Speaking of mattresses, I think that’s what did it. I wouldn’t be surprised if that thing is made out of fucking cement.” Then he opened the dishwasher and pulled out the orange mug he drank out of every day, shaking out the remaining clean water. “Sorry for the late switch-off. Anything interesting happen last night?”

  Jason looked down at his coffee mug, deliberating for the hundredth time in the past few hours. The lines between right and wrong had always been a grey area, but he was treading into uncharted territory now.

  Katherine’s eyes had been so haunted last night…so scared. He’d seen that expression in clients’ eyes before and never gave them a second look, so he couldn’t place the pang in his chest he’d felt while watching her fall apart. The same pang he felt beneath his breastbone now as he thought about her. It was unwanted. It was foolish. But he was powerless to stop it.

  When he glanced up at Kirkpatrick, he gave a curt shake of his head. “No.”

  “Eh, course not. I’m sure this is boring for you compared to Senator Whatshisname with the death wish.”

  “That guy shouldn’t be allowed within a hundred miles of Washington. Threats for him are entirely warranted, that’s all I’ll say.”

  “I’ve heard the stories. I’ve heard the ones about you too.”

  Jason’s eyes cut to the other man’s. “Is that right.”

  Pouring himself a cup of coffee, heavy on the creamer, Kirkpatrick nodded. “You don’t take any shit, Garrett, that’s for sure. I was surprised to see you on this case, but then after that whack job, I’m sure you needed a change of pace.”

  “Nah, was just time. I wouldn’t let the quiet jobs fool you, though,” Jason said, pushing back his stool and standing up. “Sometimes they turn out to be the most surprising.”

  As he took a last remaining gulp of his bitter coffee, his eyes caught on the figure in white stopping at the edge of the hallway and staring straight at him. Freshly showered and with no trace of last night’s events showing, Katherine was a fucking vision.

  His eyes couldn’t help but roam over her in her minuscule white pajama shorts that showcased just how endless and lean her creamy legs were. As his gaze lifted, he noticed the way her long, wet hair left see-through trails across the front of her tank, and his cock jumped, much the same way it had when she’d thrown her arms around him last night.

  Forcing himself to look away, he stepped back behind the counter again. Her eyes were on his bare chest, though, and he cursed himself for not bothering to put on a shirt after his own shower earlier.

  Fuck. This was the last thing he needed to be dealing with right now.

  A small smile crossed her face as she entered the room. “Mornin’.”

  When she pulled up a stool across from him and reached for a banana out of the fruit bowl, he could see the faint dark circles under her eyes, and he felt that damn pang again.

  “Class at ten?” Kirkpatrick asked her.

  “Mhmm,” she responded, peeling the skin down the banana. Keeping her eyes on Jason’s, she leaned down over it, her lips grazing the tip. “Didn’t think you’d still be awake,” she said, her jade eyes flashing, before taking a bite.

  Like hell she didn’t. Her perusal was obvious, and he wondered what had caused this about-face. Was this how it played out now? They had a secret and she’d use it to provoke him into a response? It was already taking every ounce of willpower he had to force his erection down after her blatant displays, and he’d be damned if he let her see she had any kind of effect on him.

  “I’ve never had trouble staying up before,” he told her.

  She choked on her banana and then coughed.

  Kirkpatrick was quick behind her, slapping her back, and the half-chewed piece of fruit flew out of her mouth and landed in front of Jason on the counter.

  Her eyes widened in horror, her face turning a dark shade of crimson. When Kirkpatrick came back with a napkin to clean it up, her flush deepened even further.

  “Can’t have death by choking on my watch,” Kirkpatrick said, tossing the napkin into the trash.

  “Just death by mortification,” he replied, which caused an unappreciative glare in his direction from the red-cheeked troublemaker across from him.

  She closed her eyes on a deep inhale, and the color began to drain from her face. When she exhaled, she opened them again and cocked her head at him.

  I know that look. What is she up to now…

  “I guess we should add CPR and first aid to the list,” she said.

  “What list?” Kirkpatrick asked.

  “The list of things Garrett offered to teach me during downtime.” She winked at him.

  And there it is.

  “The first thing, of course, being self-defense moves. Ya know, in case a guy gets too handsy.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s a good idea,” Kirkpatrick agreed, popping two pieces of bread into the toaster. “Make sure to show her the mount position too; that’s always a crowd-pleaser.”

  One of Katherine’s eyebrows shot up. “Mount position…” she drawled. “Yeah, make sure to show me how to work that, please.”

  Fucking trouble, this woman.

  Jason shook his head and walked around the bar, placing his mug in the sink.

  “I’m off. Wake me if you need me,” he told Kirkpatrick. As he left the kitchen, he heard Katherine say, “Looking forward to our lesson.”

  MONDAY MORNING ARRIVED, and if you’d asked her what any of her professors had discussed that day, she couldn’t have told you. Her mind was focused. He was going to touch her tonight. And she wasn’t the least bit ashamed at having roped him into it.

  Getting her mind off the frightening images still looping in her head had been the primary reason for this evening’s self-defense training, but she couldn’t deny that the prospect of Jason’s muscular arms wrapped tightly around her had her doubling her sports bra padding so her arousal wouldn’t show.

  After what had happened Saturday night, it was smart to learn some techniques in case she ever needed them, but how she’d focus on learning them and not just drooling over him the whole time would be a lesson in extreme concentration. It’d be worth it, though. She was practically bouncing on her toes with excitement, glad to have something else to occupy her thoughts. Especially something as sexy as Jason Garrett.

  He’d said they’d be heading to a nearby park, since it was an unseasonably warm day. Seventy-five degrees today, but there’d probably be a blizzard tomorrow, knowing Georgia temps. She grabbed a hoodie sweater just in case.

  “All ready,” she announced, walking into the living room. Her breath caught, though, when Jason stood up, clad in black cargo pants and a fitted black t-shirt that clung to every ripped muscle.

  She�
�d known he had a good body underneath those suits, but every image she’d conjured paled to seeing him up close and personal. It had taken a minute before she could even walk into the kitchen last week after catching him with his shirt off. No doubt if someone was caught in a headlock, he’d snap them like a twig without trying to. She shivered at the thought, wondering if he’d be as rough in bed as the dangerous image he projected.

  His gaze traveled over her, face impassive as always, and she wished she knew what he was thinking. His expressions were always so stoic. So nonchalant. It made her want to press his buttons even harder to get a reaction.

  “Is that all you’re wearing?” he finally asked.

  She looked down at her sports cami and cropped workout pants before meeting his eyes. “Does this not work for what you had in mind?” When he stared at her without responding, she offered, “I can take them off if you prefer…”

  “Let’s go,” he clipped out, and she followed him with a smile on her face.

  * * *

  HIS CAR WAS sleek and fast and not at all what she’d expected a bodyguard to drive. It certainly wasn’t what the others drove. She sat back in the passenger seat and ran her fingertips over the supple leather, taking in the immaculate inside that boasted several high-tech features she knew he had to have paid a pretty penny for.

  It was a far cry from her worn car that featured air conditioning that sputtered to life whenever the hell it felt like it—which, of course, was usually the opposite of when she needed it. The look on her father’s face when he saw the car pull up behind the brand-new luxury vehicle he’d plastered a big red bow on the day of her graduation had been priceless.

  The memory had her smiling sadly, and she peeked at Jason out of the corner of her eye. Something about him made her think he was rebelling in his own life, though he seemed to follow orders and protocol in his job, Valentine’s night not included. Maybe this car was an act of rebellion in the same way hers had been. Maybe they had more in common than either of them knew.

  He pulled into a parking space with the swiftness of a racecar driver, and when they got out, she followed him past the monkey bars and throngs of kids running around. There was a small clearing on the other side of the park, isolated enough that no one bothered going that far down. After dropping her sweater on the grass, she faced him.

  His demeanor was calm, but she could tell he was on alert. Always on alert. But his face was unreadable.

  She wondered if he thought about touching her at all. Did her outfit today have any effect on him? Did he find her attractive? Probably thought she was too young. But maybe she could change his mind…

  “The first rule of self-defense is that there are no rules,” Jason said. “If you feel you’re in danger, use anything you can to get away. If you can run, do it.”

  Hesitating, she asked, “Use anything, like weapons?”

  “If you don’t know how to properly use a weapon, you shouldn’t carry one.”

  “No weapons. No rules. Run. Check.”

  He eyed her legs in a way that had her looking down again to make sure she hadn’t lost her pants somewhere.

  “You’re a runner?” he asked.

  “Not since my freshman year in high school.”

  Her answer seemed to appease him, and he moved on.

  “First, we’ll go over the ear clap to warm you up. It’s a basic move that you can use several different ways. Come here.” He motioned her forward with his finger.

  Bossy. I like this already.

  “Cup your hand like this for me.” He curved his hand and pressed his fingers together, and she imitated him. “Now, when you do this, make sure not to hit with your fingers. You’re gonna hit with this cupped part right here. I’ll demonstrate on you, and then I want you to do the same thing to me.”

  She nodded, and his arm jetted out and pushed against her shoulder, causing her to stumble back a step.

  “Keep your weight in your heels while we work, and you won’t go flying around.”

  “Okay. Do it again.”

  His hand reached out and clapped against her shoulder, pushing her away again, but her feet were firmly planted this time.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  Cupping her palm, she mimicked his move.

  “Good. Now harder.”

  She bit her tongue to keep from grinning at the dirty thoughts that entered her mind with that instruction. Stepping forward, she hit him with more force.

  “Do I look breakable to you, Katherine?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened, and she shook her head.

  “Then give me all you’ve got.”

  Ah, so he does like it rough.

  She took a deep breath and let it out just as her hand collided with his shoulder. His body jerked back, and his lips tilted up in approval. “Good. Like that, but with your other hand now.”

  She obliged, and he showed her how to use the technique on the ear before moving on to the next one.

  “Remember when I said use whatever you can to get away?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “If the attacker is close enough, gouge his eyes. Scratch them, poke them. Rip ’em out, if you want.”

  She cringed, the visual of blood and hanging eyeballs making her glad she didn’t eat dinner before they came. “Yeah, that sounds appropriately horrifying.”

  “If someone’s trying to kill you, Katherine, I assure you—you’ll want to gouge their eyes out at the very least.”

  Swallowing, she nodded. “True. You’re right.”

  He grabbed her hand and circled the heel of her palm. A shiver ran through her at the unexpected touch.

  “You can go for the nose with this part right here. Strike from an angle if you can, like this.” He demonstrated the move, but all she could take in was the feel of his warm, rough fingers on her hand and her arm. It was the first time his body had been connected with her bare skin in a way that felt…intimate.

  Well, the first time coherently, anyway. The drugged carry-of-shame after the party certainly didn’t count.

  “…Can you do that?” His voice broke through her thoughts, shaking her from her stupor.

  “Uh, yeah. Angle and hit with force to try to break the nose. Got it.”

  “Right,” he said. “But please don’t try that move here.”

  She laughed. “Course not.”

  “Now the groin.”

  “Excuse me?” she asked, her eyes wide.

  He began to circle her slowly. “Surely you know the groin is a sensitive area for both men and women?”

  In bed?

  Her head whipped back and forth, following his path. “I might’ve heard that.”

  “Makes sense you could debilitate an attacker with a swift kick or punch there, right?”

  “Complete sense. Yes. Agreed.”

  He stopped circling and came to a stop in front of her. “If all else fails, a knee in the right spot will have anyone down on the ground. Spread your legs.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Yours are pretty tightly locked together, which I doubt any attacker’s would be.” When she continued to stare at him, he leaned in closer. “I can’t show you the move unless you open them, Katherine.”

  He was so close she could feel his warm breath on her lips, and seconds passed as she tried to remember how to breathe herself. Spreading her stance, she waited for him to make a move. Instead, his hand reached down to graze the inside of her upper thigh.

  Oh, fuck.

  “Right here,” he said. “For now, aim right here. Weight in your heels.”

  She rooted herself to the ground, willing herself to stop shaking. God, he’d barely touched her and she was wet.

  For God’s sake, pull it together.

  With his hand, he lightly struck her on her thigh in the ear-clap move he’d shown her earlier. “You can do that, or…” He placed his hands on her shoulders and brought his knee to the inside of her leg. “That. However you can get
to it, use what you’ve got. Your foot’ll do too.”

  Too soon, he let go of her and moved back, indicating it was her turn. She eyed his legs in the loose cargo pants. “So I should aim for about…”

  “Here,” he said, motioning to a spot higher on his inner thigh than she’d gauged.

  Cupping her palm, she hit him where he’d shown her, and it was like she’d smashed into a rock. Then she took a step forward and locked eyes with him as her hands fell on his shoulders. His whole body felt like a suit of armor, and damn if that didn’t have her wishing she had the strength to throw him on the ground.

  Looking down, she connected her knee to his leg, brushing slightly up against his groin as she pulled back. Surprise flashed in his eyes at her bold move, but no one was more surprised than she was—he’d been semi-erect.

  His expression turned hard, and he backed away. “I think that’s enough for today.”

  “I’m sorry, it was an accident.”

  “With you, I’m sure nothing’s an accident.”

  “Please, can we just go over everything again to make sure I’ve got it? I promise it won’t happen again.”

  He glanced at his watch and then ran a hand over his buzzcut. “Fine.”

  She kept true to her word and didn’t let her hands, or knees, wander anywhere they weren’t supposed to be as he showed her a few more moves, and they practiced for another half-hour, but she relished every small contact their skin made.

  They only stopped when the sky turned an ominous black, and a few scattered raindrops hit her arms. She grabbed her hoodie and shrugged into it, and they began trekking across the park to his car.

  “Can we do this again? Show me more?”

  “If you wish,” he said without stopping.

  After taking a deep breath, she asked, “What about weapons?”

  “What about them?”

  “Well, you said you shouldn’t carry them if you have no idea how to use one.”

  He stopped and looked at her. “No. Absolutely not.”