Page 40 of Professional Consult

“Sure,” I say nonchalantly.

He takes my arm, and before I can blink, my body rushes forward and I’m pressed against a table.

“Hey!”

He releases me. “That move is perfect for a woman like you because you use the person’s weight and momentum against them, so you can take down bigger people.”

“Oh-kay.”

“Now, it’s your turn.”

He helps me into position, instructing me where to put my hands and how to apply pressure.

And by God, touching him feels scandalous. It ignites every cell in my body, making me dizzy and confused. Which shows in my sloppy work.

“Let’s try something else,” he suggests.

I frown because I don’t want to, but when he gets into position directly in front of me, I’m suddenly super okay with it.

“Sometimes you have to use anything you can grab to give yourself an advantage. Sleeves, collars, pockets, shirts.”

Oh, yes—use everything…

“I’m not trying to get fresh with you, and I’ll stay away from anywhere that could make you uncomfortable.”

A girl could really use a smidgen of discomfort.

He reaches out and grabs the baggy sleeves of the flannel I’m borrowing and contorts his arms until I’m spun, my back to him, my arms pulled up behind me.

“Um, ow!”

“Let me show you how I did that.”

His smell permeates the air. A delicious odor of sweat, wood, and manly musk that provokes my pent-up lust in ways that should make me blush.

The moves become a dance between us, my partner pushing me harder and harder until I gracefully lay his ass out on the floor, my knee to his back as I read him his rights.

“You’re getting better,” he says, rising to a stand.

It feels like a hundred degrees, so I take the flannel off, leaving me in my tank top that hugs every curve.

He notices.

Of course, he tries not to, diverting his eyes so that he’s staring at the wall when I’m standing right in front of him.

“How am I doing, boss?”

“You have the moves, but it’s like watching ballet.”

“Huh?” His words take the wind from my sails. I had been so proud of myself.

“You need to work on your command presence.”

“My command presence?”

“Every time you come face to face with a perp, they’re sizing you up, wondering if they can pull one on you. The answer with you is always yes.”

My face falls. “What can I do to change that?”