Deadly Testimony

by Piper J. Drake

  “When you mention drills, do you mean sparring?” Now there was something very interesting. Better than doing all too familiar exercises over and over again.

  Her gaze fastened on him. “Serious sparring would be a bad idea. No pads, no mats.”

  Kind of her, to not mention her potential level of skill as compared to his.

  He gave her a nod, partially in thanks and partially in acknowledgement. “You are the professional bodyguard. More than that, you have more experience in dangerous situations. I was more curious about lighter timing drills. A more good-natured way of learning about the skills each of us might have.”

  A hint of a smile played around her lips, much more than previously. “Generally, I don’t practice with anyone outside of Centurion Corporation.”

  “It would seem a limited practice.” He tossed his suit pants back onto the bed behind him. The topic had been dropped and he didn’t want to put them back on until he’d had a shower.

  “You’d have a point there, but I also prefer to let a potential opponent guess about what I can and can’t do.” She paused. “I was itching for a fight the night we met. I’ll admit it. It’d been a long workday and it’s frustrating to be irritated at people all day. The men hounding you gave me the perfect excuse to let off some steam.”

  “You have my sympathies.” And he meant it. “Letting off steam is exactly what I was trying to do when you returned.”

  Too much thought. Too much worry. Too far out of the structure of the comfortable life he’d decided to leave behind.

  After a moment, she eased her backpack off her back and set it on the floor against the wall. “You asked about sparring. What experience do you have with martial arts?”

  He grinned, tension inside him giving way to anticipation. Yes. This was good. “I practice Gongkwon Yusul, a sort of Korean hybrid martial arts form.”

  Her right eyebrow rose as she regarded him with more interest than he’d seen yet. “Unusual.”

  “It’s a more modern martial arts system,” he admitted. “Comparisons could be drawn to Western mixed martial arts in the way it combines traditional techniques. My instructors have repeatedly stated that it emphasizes the application of striking, locking and throwing. A practical, free-flowing response in unexpected fighting situations. Good for self-defense.”

  Practical as it was, it also maintained traditional philosophies such as respect for others and personal development. It’d given him a constructive outlet for the rage he’d nursed in his younger days.

  He hadn’t appreciated tradition as much as the variety when he’d first started. “I started in my youth and continued practicing the drills when I came to the US. No instructors were available as I was completing high school and college. Besides which, my uncle couldn’t have afforded paying for it. Practice alone was all I could do. I find it to be a learning opportunity when I can spar with someone else.”

  Lizzy pushed away from the door and took a step toward him. “I haven’t studied this Korean martial art.”

  “You, I imagine, have mastered many arts though.” He held his hands out, away from his sides, palms up. “I could learn all sorts of things from you.”

  She snorted. “Timing drills. Fine. Not full-contact sparring. We don’t have protective gear and it’s too easy to do too much damage.”

  He raised his eyebrows but nodded. Timing drills took better control in any case. It was more about speed, precision and, of course, how well timed a move could be. Besides, you could learn quite a bit about a person working with them in this way, like dancing. And he was finding with every minute spent in Lizzy’s company, he wanted to learn more about her.

  “First, pants.”

  * * *

  How did the man make baggy sweatpants look sexy?

  It was both better and worse than the sight of him in snug-fitting boxer briefs. She’d always been a fan of boxer briefs in general. Much better than tighty-whities. Occasionally she’d enjoyed the sight of a man in loose boxers but too often, the freedom of boxers let way too much hang loose to peek out at the world at inappropriate times.

  Kyle stood before her now, with pants on, his posture loose and relaxed. She put her hands up to guard. “We’ll start slow, see where this takes us.”

  He gave her a nod and a sign of respect, then got his guard up.

  A big part of timing drills or sparring was to know your partner well enough and eventually trust them to be able to block the strike or kick you were putting out there. Otherwise they ended up hurt and you ended up with too short a workout.

  So she started out easy. Light jab, slow cross. Soft hook to the body, followed by another slow cross. He blocked each with ease and responded to the combination in kind.

  Nice. Maybe one of the easiest ways to start out a drill. He moved smoothly and echoed her combination with the confidence of someone who recognized it for what it was.

  She added in some footwork, leading them in a dance within the confined space of the hotel room as they traded light strikes back and forth. Her blood started flowing and her muscles warmed up. It felt good.

  As she threw another cross, Kyle changed up the game by trapping her wrist in a move she hadn’t seen before.

  “Not bad.” She recovered and caught his own follow-up strike in a move of her own, twisting as she did to throw him off balance.

  Warm-ups were over and it looked like they were both ready to have some fun.

  “You have been going easy on me.” Kyle’s words came smoothly, with no sign of overexertion.

  She wasn’t surprised though. He’d been keeping himself in good shape. Conversation during a workout was one way to monitor your partner’s status. If they were breathing too hard, overheating and out of breath, then it was time to slow down and cool off.

  But Kyle’s breathing was good. Even though a healthy, fine sheen of sweat was starting to show across his brow, he was most definitely ready to up the intensity.

  So she did, adding in a low kick to force him out to medium range and following up with an outside slanted kick to the thigh. She was careful to make it a tap and not a real kick.

  He ended up taking the second kick rather than dodging, but he’d zoned to his right to reduce the force of the impact and threw a punch to force her to block instead of going for what would’ve been his momentarily weakened leg in a real fight.

  “Nice,” she admitted it. Only a few minutes in and he was showing better sense than most.

  They picked up the tempo, exchanging hand strikes interspersed with kicks as they circled each other in the small space of the room. They kept contact light but increased the intensity and speed as they went.

  He was good, clean, keeping his guard up and his movement efficient.

  “You tend toward defense.” She jabbed to force him to guard his handsome face then drove a knee toward his belly.

  He only managed a partial block and grunted as her knee contacted with his abs but otherwise shook it off without a problem, driving an elbow toward her throat.

  “My training is mostly for self-defense.” He huffed. She was making him work for it now. “And I find I get too hotheaded when I go on the offense. I make mistakes.”

  “Fighting safe can be wise.” Sometimes. She’d give him that. Not always though. There’d been places, times, when speed and decisiveness meant she and her team survived. “And it’s fine for stuff like this. But let it go on too long and you’re more likely to lose.”

  He shot a low kick at her and closed the distance faster than he’d done so far, lashing out with a right cross. His longer reach gave him an advantage and it would’ve been a great move if she hadn’t been expecting it.

  As it was, she slipped to the side just enough for his punch to whisper past her face. Then she raised her shoulder, pushing her cheekbone to her
shoulder to capture and tuck his fist against the curve of her neck.

  Kyle started to pull back in surprise.

  Perfect.

  She stepped forward inside his guard and put her left foot behind his right. Seeing her coming forward, he instinctively tried to step back and get his guard back up.

  Nope.

  She caught his ankle in an ashi harai, driving him backward and down toward where he expected his foot to be bracing his back-step. Tall as he was, he relied on his solid stance to keep his footing too much.

  Instead, she threw her right arm up between the two of them and quickly swung it around in an exterior loop to place his still-retracting arm into an under armpit lock. He lost his balance and toppled, taking her with him. Which was fine.

  She landed heavily on top of him, forcing grunts out of the both of them. Somehow, she wasn’t even going to mind the bruises. This was more fun than she’d had in a while.

  “Minx.” He was breathless now and still a little stunned.

  The clothes around her throat tightened as his left hand took hold, and he pivoted his hips under her. Throwing his left leg up, she found herself in the beginning of a triangle hold.

  Really?

  She got her feet under her and heaved herself—and him—up until she was half-standing and slammed him back on the ground. He loosened his hold. Pivoting to her right, she released his right arm so she could get into position to secure an arm bar on his left.

  Before she could manage it, he rotated on top of her. “No you don’t.”

  She half snarled, half giggled. “Yes, I do.”

  And she blocked his right knee with her leg, raising her hips, placing the ball of her right foot on the ground near his other knee and pushing with her right. As he came off the floor, she pulled him to the left to continue the momentum of the roll...

  ...and landed on top of him.

  He chuckled and repeated the move right back on her, rolling them even farther until they both hit the wall, laughing.

  She buried her fingers into his hair and his hands gripped the back of her neck.

  They met in a kiss, hard and hot and so incredibly good. If she’d been breathing hard before, she lost everything in that kiss.

  Suddenly, she didn’t care about anything but his body against hers. He wasn’t her client anymore and she wasn’t on contract. This was between them, person to person. They were safe enough for an indulgence, here and now, later they might not be. They twisted and rolled, and he was under her again as she straddled him. His hands roamed over her as she had her way with his mouth.

  She let him up for air for a second as she decided whether she wanted to lick his pulse or nip at his collarbone.

  Kyle’s voice rolled over her, husky and dark, sending delicious shivers down her spine. “Let’s get rid of the pants.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  She agreed with him about the pants, she did. But straddling him the way she was, she couldn’t resist rocking her hips against him and enjoying the hard ridge of his cock pressed against her through the layers of clothing.

  Kyle sat up, his hands on her hips, encouraging her to grind into him again.

  So she did. And then she groaned because it felt really good. Or maybe they both groaned.

  He slid one hand up her arm in a skilled caress, running his fingertips up the line of her neck before cradling her head and drawing her in for another kiss. She drank him in, reveling in the sensuality he awakened in her. This was good, really good, and she wanted to enjoy it.

  His hand tightened in her hair as he broke away to trail kisses down her jaw and neck.

  Damn, it had been a long dry spell.

  She gasped for breath, clutched his chest, loved the play of muscles under his skin. When he set his teeth against her shoulder, not enough to break skin but definitely enough to mark her, she nipped at his ear.

  He caught her mouth for a kiss again and sucked on her lower lip briefly. Then kissed the small hurt he’d left. She liked this, the mix of gentle and sharp. His whisper-soft, featherlight touches alternating with the strong grip of his fingers in just the right places.

  She tightened her legs, her thighs pressing hard against either side of his, encouraging him. He cupped the curve of her ass, pulled her in close as he pressed kiss after kiss against her collarbone. His fingers tightened on her, alternating between gripping and caressing.

  Barely a minute or two of play and she was all ready to have him inside her.

  She let her head fall back, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensations. She arched her back, lifting her chest to meet him, her breasts heavy and aching for his touch. When he found the nipple of her right breast, he sucked at it through her shirt and bra, the heat of his mouth burning through the layers of fabric as she tightened for him. He squeezed and kneaded her ass as he turned his attention to her other breast, nipping this time until she cried out and jerked her head up.

  “Come here, Isabelle.” His voice had deepened, dark and intimate. Liquid heat built between her legs.

  She looked down into his face, her sight too unfocused to really see him, her hair falling around them in a curtain. He’d undone her ponytail and she hadn’t even realized. Didn’t mind either. He chuckled, a sound full of masculine pleasure and arrogance, and captured her mouth again. He kissed her deeper this time, his tongue darting deep into her mouth in sure strokes. His hands wandered over the curve of her back, one arm supporting her while he slid the other hand around to her front, grasping the swell of her breast.

  He groaned then, against her lips. “I want to taste more of you.”

  When he coaxed her arms above her head, she let him take off her shirt and toss it to the side. He passed one hand across her back and her bra fell loose around her shoulders.

  She laughed. “Got a lot of practice?”

  “Saves time and frustration,” he murmured, completely unashamed.

  Her thoughts scattered as his mouth closed over one nipple and he cupped her other breast in his hand. He sucked first, brushing the pad of his thumb over the opposite nipple as he did. The dual sensations, contrast between the scalding suction of his mouth and the slightly rough texture of his thumb shot through her and scrambled her brain.

  She’d have fallen backward if it hadn’t been for his other arm curved around her waist, holding her in place for him. As it was, she grasped at his shoulders for balance as he licked at her nipple as if it was his favorite lollipop, circling and tasting.

  But she wanted to taste too.

  She changed her grip on his shoulders, pushing him back with her palms. “My turn.”

  He ceded control to her, letting her press him down onto his back. His gaze burned into her as he watched her undo the drawstring at his waist, even as he lifted his hips to help her ease his pants down and off. He was at attention in every way, his erection hard and impressive.

  Oh and she wanted him in her mouth.

  But she didn’t take him right away. The man was a tease and good at it. The least she could do was give him a little of his own back.

  She ran her tongue along the length of him, keeping her gaze locked with his as she did. If anything, he grew harder and his eyes started to glaze.

  Good.

  Swirling her tongue around his tip, she caught the tiniest taste of salt before she opened wider and took him into her mouth. He groaned then and his eyes rolled up and back. She smiled.

  It was a pleasure to make a man lose himself in what she could do to him. Too many men tried to control this and she tended to get irritated. But Kyle was letting her do as she pleased, and letting her know exactly what worked for him in the process. This was the way she liked it.

  Besides, she enjoyed the texture of his soft skin in contrast to the hardness of his erection. And there we
re his balls.

  Easing back, she flicked the tip of her tongue along the ridge around the head of his penis. Propping herself up on one elbow, she used her free hand to caress his balls. The delicate skin of his scrotum tightened at her touch and her fingertips found the super soft spot just behind his balls, lightly brushing him until he lifted his hips.

  She took him into her mouth then, as much as she could fit, until his head bumped the back of her throat.

  He let out a cross between a moan and a groan. His hands reached out to her, gathered up her hair and held it clear of her face. He didn’t try to grab her head and force it toward his hips, didn’t try to control her at all. So she withdrew in a slow, steady suck as she met his gaze again.

  His eyes were wild, lips parted, and he watched her with an intense hunger as he held her hair back. He was enjoying watching her, she realized. The eye contact was intimate, electrifying.

  She laved the length of him with her tongue, getting her taste of him and taking her time doing it before lowering her mouth over his tip and sucking on him again. Starting light, she sucked and licked and sucked increasingly harder, watching him enjoy more and more until it was a little too hard and the muscle at his jaw tightened.

  Wrapping the fingers of her free hand around the base of his penis, she eased back to the suction she’d found he liked best. His eyes shuttered closed and his head tilted back as those delicious, well-defined abs tightened.

  “Isabelle,” he gasped. “This. Incredible. Won’t last long.”

  His hands coaxed her back and she let him, smiling. He was honest too and she appreciated it.

  “Condom. In my toiletry kit.”

  She raised an eyebrow but hey, she tended to pack for any situation too and a toiletry bag was something she kept assembled and ready to toss into whatever bag she was packing. She imagined he did the same.

  Rather than make him get up to get it, she gave him another teasing suck over the tip to leave him gasping and went to retrieve the condom.