Read Online The Key by Pauline Baird Jones - Free Book Online
Authors: Pauline Baird Jones
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could tell Fyn thought he’d have no trouble taking her down. He did have height and weight on her. All she had going for her was a huge chunk of freaking stubborn. Hopefully it would be enough.
She began to circle him. He turned with her, his stance altering slightly. Suddenly his hand lashed out. Sara managed to dodge the grab, though she felt it graze her. And almost got tossed by the other hand. She managed to duck, but felt herself go airborne. Did the guy have an arm she hadn’t noticed?
She twisted in mid-air and landed on her feet. He came in again. It took him a couple of seconds longer this time before she went flying. And she hit the mat.
The guy was a machine. A whacking machine.
She bounced up. Okay . She danced in close, then dodged, circling him, watching his eyes, noting the slight smile at the edge of his mouth.
He came at her and she managed to deflect his move and even attempt a counter move. She found getting close enough for him to get a grip on her was a bad idea.
She went down again, but was on her feet and trying again before he could keep her there.
Okay, so maybe she couldn’t win, but if she knocked him down just once…
She went in again, trying different approaches, learning his moves.
He had a lot moves.
All of them ended with her on the mat.
Sara wasn’t sure how she managed to keep getting up. She had an idea and went for it. She needed to do something before she ran out of steam...
She danced back out of his reach, then did a hand stand flip, like she was trying for a high kick to the chin. As she expected, he deflected, sending her sailing through the air, but this time positioned the way she wanted.
She tucked and spun, doing a complete somersault in the air.
She hit the mat at an angle that no gymnast would have liked, but was perfect for her. She still had momentum when the balls of her feet slammed into the mat.
She sprang forward.
He was still coming out of his counter move.
She hit him full in the chest with her shoulder.
This time they both went down.
She should have been on top.
She was when they hit the mat.
He should have been winded.
He wasn’t.
He rolled on top. His legs hooked with hers, holding them in place. His hand was at her throat, his forearm across her chest. His face was inches from hers, his gaze pinning her in place as surely as his body. Her only satisfaction, he was panting almost as hard as she was.
“You’re down.”
“I guess you…win.” She was intensely aware of everywhere their bodies touched. She saw his eyes change and wondered if he was going to kiss her again. Her lips parted—
“I thought I was supposed to kick your ass this morning, Donovan.” Briggs voice cut between them like a dash of very cold water.
His eyes shuttered. Sara knew hers did, too.
“He’s just…helping me warm up.” Sara felt color creep into her face.
Briggs bent over. “Where’d you learn that stuff?”
“High school gymnastics.”
“Really. You ever compete?”
“I was too tall. Kept banging my legs on the uneven bars.”
He nodded, like that made sense. “You ready for me?”
She’d rather be cut into little pieces and fed to aliens.
“Sure.”
Fyn rolled off her and stood up in one smooth, powerful motion. He held out a hand to her. Sara took it and let him pull her to her feet.
Briggs stepped close. “He going to stay?”
“He wants to see you…kick my ass.”
Briggs looked undecided. Sara knew why.
“Can he keep his mouth shut?”
Sara had to bite her lip. “Oh yeah.”
Fyn’s lips twitched.
“Well, move out of the way, Chewie.” While Fyn got out of the way, Briggs crossed to a CD player built into the wall and inserted a disc. He held up the case, so Sara could see it.
Footloose. Oh crap. It was fast and long.
“Think you can handle it?”
She gave him a weak smile. “No problem.”
The music cued up. It started fast and quickly got faster than that. Briggs took her hands and they started to dance.
She began to circle him. He turned with her, his stance altering slightly. Suddenly his hand lashed out. Sara managed to dodge the grab, though she felt it graze her. And almost got tossed by the other hand. She managed to duck, but felt herself go airborne. Did the guy have an arm she hadn’t noticed?
She twisted in mid-air and landed on her feet. He came in again. It took him a couple of seconds longer this time before she went flying. And she hit the mat.
The guy was a machine. A whacking machine.
She bounced up. Okay . She danced in close, then dodged, circling him, watching his eyes, noting the slight smile at the edge of his mouth.
He came at her and she managed to deflect his move and even attempt a counter move. She found getting close enough for him to get a grip on her was a bad idea.
She went down again, but was on her feet and trying again before he could keep her there.
Okay, so maybe she couldn’t win, but if she knocked him down just once…
She went in again, trying different approaches, learning his moves.
He had a lot moves.
All of them ended with her on the mat.
Sara wasn’t sure how she managed to keep getting up. She had an idea and went for it. She needed to do something before she ran out of steam...
She danced back out of his reach, then did a hand stand flip, like she was trying for a high kick to the chin. As she expected, he deflected, sending her sailing through the air, but this time positioned the way she wanted.
She tucked and spun, doing a complete somersault in the air.
She hit the mat at an angle that no gymnast would have liked, but was perfect for her. She still had momentum when the balls of her feet slammed into the mat.
She sprang forward.
He was still coming out of his counter move.
She hit him full in the chest with her shoulder.
This time they both went down.
She should have been on top.
She was when they hit the mat.
He should have been winded.
He wasn’t.
He rolled on top. His legs hooked with hers, holding them in place. His hand was at her throat, his forearm across her chest. His face was inches from hers, his gaze pinning her in place as surely as his body. Her only satisfaction, he was panting almost as hard as she was.
“You’re down.”
“I guess you…win.” She was intensely aware of everywhere their bodies touched. She saw his eyes change and wondered if he was going to kiss her again. Her lips parted—
“I thought I was supposed to kick your ass this morning, Donovan.” Briggs voice cut between them like a dash of very cold water.
His eyes shuttered. Sara knew hers did, too.
“He’s just…helping me warm up.” Sara felt color creep into her face.
Briggs bent over. “Where’d you learn that stuff?”
“High school gymnastics.”
“Really. You ever compete?”
“I was too tall. Kept banging my legs on the uneven bars.”
He nodded, like that made sense. “You ready for me?”
She’d rather be cut into little pieces and fed to aliens.
“Sure.”
Fyn rolled off her and stood up in one smooth, powerful motion. He held out a hand to her. Sara took it and let him pull her to her feet.
Briggs stepped close. “He going to stay?”
“He wants to see you…kick my ass.”
Briggs looked undecided. Sara knew why.
“Can he keep his mouth shut?”
Sara had to bite her lip. “Oh yeah.”
Fyn’s lips twitched.
“Well, move out of the way, Chewie.” While Fyn got out of the way, Briggs crossed to a CD player built into the wall and inserted a disc. He held up the case, so Sara could see it.
Footloose. Oh crap. It was fast and long.
“Think you can handle it?”
She gave him a weak smile. “No problem.”
The music cued up. It started fast and quickly got faster than that. Briggs took her hands and they started to dance.
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