"If this is your attempt to make a move on me, I can tell you right now it's not going to happen."
Heather followed Mark down to his basement, frowning at his well-muscled back as they descended the narrow stairwell. She could almost see his cocky smile in response to her comment so she glared at the spot between his shoulders for another few steps. He was hot and she was attracted to him, but she was determined to resist him and his sexy physique no matter what her traitorous body wanted. He had hurt her once before and she wasn't about to let him do it again. Still, when he had offered to teach her some self-defense moves she had bristled at his condescending tone and her competitive nature had compelled her to accept his thinly veiled challenge.
Mark didn't know it, but there was nothing he could teach her that she didn't already know. She had taken lessons in several martial arts for several years, however, she decided to play dumb and let him try to impress her for a while before she put him in his place – preferable on his ass. Grinning at that thought, Heather gamely changed into her yoga pants and tank top and followed him down to the workout space in the basement. The floors, she saw, were lined with mats and pads. A weight bench and some free weights took up one corner of the room but the rest of it was open and spacious. Surprisingly, it smelled fresh and clean. She had half expected it to smell like dirty socks and sweat and man.
Mark watched Heather as she surveyed the room. When she met his gaze he grinned and winked at her. His blood was pumping and he was ready for a good workout session. He had to admit that he was also looking forward to having an acceptable excuse to get her into his arms. Having spent the last few days with her, his fingers were itching to touch her silky skin if only in the context of sparring. He wanted to touch sure, but that is as far is at could go. He was confident that he had enough self-control to keep his hands away from certain tempting parts of her anatomy. She was still off limits to him but she sure was fun to flirt with.
"If I wanted to make a move on you, you'd know it. What's more, you'd beg for it."
Heather snorted and rolled her eyes dramatically at his response to her dig. Ignoring her reaction, he took up a stance on one of the mats in the middle of the room.
"Okay, lets start with some simple moves. Come over here and I'll show you a few things."
Cautiously she approached him and allowed him demonstrate some of the basics. He pushed and prodded, bent and moved her body where he wanted her to go and when his hands slipped a few times to brush her breasts, they both ignored it. He showed her how to balance, how to hold her arms, and then things got a bit more physical as they started to get serious. Thirty minutes later they were both covered in a light sheen of sweat. Impressed with her skill, Mark quickly realized that Heather was no novice at this type of workout. At some point she had taken some kind of training. Curious, he paused for a moment and grabbed a water.
" You've done this before."
Taking advantage of the break to regain her breath, Heather grabbed her water and took a long swig. "I never said that I'd never done this before." Smirking, she added, "You are the one who assumed I was a beginner at this. I didn't see the point in telling you otherwise."
A little peeved at her deception, Mark decided to find out just how proficient Heather really was. Grinning, he issued a challenge that he knew she wouldn't refuse.
"Ok then miss hot shot, how about you show me what you've got?"
"No holds barred?"
"Nope. I can take it. Don't hold back"
"Same to you. I don't want you trying to take it easy on me. I can handle anything you throw at me."
At this his eyebrow raised, but he held his tongue. Heather moved back to the center of the mat. Her blood was pumping a bit from the warm up they had done, but more so from her close proximity to Mark. She hated to admit it but she was a little turned on from the physical contact with him. The fact that his hands had been brushing her breasts every few moments didn't help. He was dressed in grey sweatpants that rode low on his hips and a tight white undershirt, both of which were lightly dampened with sweat. God he was hot. Her body clenched, unbidden, as she remembered what he tasted like. Shaking away those traitorous thoughts, she focused on defeating him.
The sparring match was short lived. Mark was stronger, faster, and in better shape. Heather's only advantage was that she was small, and she was quick. Even so, it was clear that Mark was the winner of their engagement when he pinned her under him on the mat for the fifth time. Her arms were stretched above her head, clasped in one of his hands and she felt a sense of déjà vu. The last time they had been in this position he had all but taken her against a wall in a crowded bar. Breathing hard, she risked a look into Mark's face. His eyes had darkened with lust and remembered passion and she knew that he felt the attraction too. It was always there, just under the surface. Waiting.
Mark was aroused and didn't seem to care if she knew it. He pressed himself into the vee of her legs. Heather cursed herself for a slut even as she widened her legs to make room for him between them. He moved his hips imperceptibly grinding them against hers and she couldn't help but respond.
"Fuck."
She heard his muttered curse moments before his mouth crashed onto hers. For a few seconds she gave in to her body's demands and kissed him back with all the pent up passion she had been storing over the past 8 years. He tasted dark and sinful. His tongue was talented and playful as it plunged past her lips to toy with her own. Willing herself to stop this before it went too far, Heather gathered all her strength and wrenched her lips away from his. Her hands, somehow freed from his steely grip, found purchase in his hair and yanked his head away from hers. Blue eyes met icy grey as they silently took the other's measure. Her voice was husky when she finally spoke.
"I told you that this was not going to happen. I am not going to sleep with you."
"You want me." His eyes dared her to lie and she found that she didn't have the strength to dispute him. Frantically, wildly, she knew her only chance to avoid the inevitable was to run, to escape to her room and put distance between them. With his body half on top of her own she couldn't think straight. Desperate to get away, she started to struggle in Mark's arms. Her arms beat against his muscled chest, and her legs windmilled in the air and slid across the mat searching for leverage. One thought reverberated in her mind. She had to get free. She had to get away.
