Page 17 of Ruthless Touch

Gun tosses me to the floor like I weigh nothing.

He’s doing some targeted attacks of his own. I crash into the ground a second time in minutes, not nearly as graceful or quick as the first.

Air sputters out of me as blunt pain throbs up my side. But I never let myself stay down for long; I’m up after barely touching the floor, fists balled and ready to strike again.

Gun merely grins. “You flirt better than you fight, feline. Think I’ll call you Goyangi-ne from now on.”

I grit my teeth at the patronizing nickname meaning little cat. “Yeah well… I kill better than I flirt.”

“Is that so? Then show me, Goyangi-ne. Give me what you’ve got.”

We clash in the middle of the room. I rush toward him as he takes a defensive stance.

What he doesn’t realize is that it’s a distraction. I throw out a series of punches and kicks designed to make him exert himself, then as he lunges forward to restrain me, I’m ducking him.

I dive into a smooth roll on the ground, coming out of it right where my discarded switchblade lies. My fingers wrap around the handle in time to take my next slash at him.

Gun dodges me, and I swipe at him; the two of us locked into a new dance.

“You really trying to kill me, Goyangi-ne?” he asks, breathing hard. He leaps out of the way of the blade in the nick of time. “I’m beginning to think this is more than just foreplay. You actually want me dead.”

“What was your first clue?” I swipe at him several more times, finally drawing blood.

The blade slices him in the arm as he’s a millisecond too slow outmaneuvering me. He dives under the glass tabletop to put more space between us. I roll to the ground to keep up with him, but it’s as I’m coming out of it that he makes a move of his own.

Gun retaliates by grabbing me by the hair and slamming me against the wall. Sharp pain prickles at my scalp as once again I’m colliding with a hard surface that makes me sputter.

He’s pinned me in place, wrapping his long fingers around my wrist to force the blade from my grip.

“I’m really trying not to hurt you, Goyangi,” he grunts. “I don’t like hitting women… but youareattacking me with a knife?—”

“That’s your problem. You underestimate me!”

I break his hold with a twist of my arms, slipping out from his grip and going for the kill. He staggers back to avoid the blade.

It takes us both another second to realize he’s unsuccessful.

A deep crimson splotch spreads across his abdomen, the blood dying the once perfect white fabric.

Gun looks up from his stab wound, his teeth bared as he huffs heavy breaths. Any playfulness about him has vanished.

His almond-shaped eyes have darkened. His features sharpened.

He pounces fast enough that he becomes a blur. I barely have time to react as we collide, knocking over the glassware on the minbar and crashing to the ground. The knife flies out of my hand and clatters to the floor halfway across the room.

We’re left grappling, limbs tangled. The sounds we make—thick grunts, angry hisses, heavy pants—all sound like sex noises.

We might as well be fucking.

Gun voices this aloud, pinning me to the ground. “You could’ve just fucked me, you know. Would’ve been a lot more fun, Goyangi-ne.”

“Don’t flatter yourself!”

I buck hard, gaining enough leverage to push him off and roll on top.

At least for a few seconds, until Gun wraps an arm around my back and pulls me into a submission hold. We roll over yet again, fighting hard and relentlessly.

In the back of my mind, I’m aware if he really wanted to he could be putting up an even harder fight. But it seems even now he won’t let himself. As I slip free from his grasp and stagger onto my feet, he doesn’t even go for my legs.