Friends and Lovers by Tara Mills Read Free Book Online Page B

flat against the soft floor. Lauren flexed through her back and arched her neck, thrusting her chest toward the floor and her bottom in the air.
    Wes turned and nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight of her pert ass presented to him. Tempting, way too tempting. He cleared his throat and took a calming breath before wandering back.
    Lauren shifted her weight slightly and looked up at him from between her spread legs. “Are you ready?”
    Oh, man. Loaded question, honey. “Yes,” he said gruffly.
    He bent and picked up the spool he’d brought with him while she straightened and rolled her head and shoulders back a few times, shifting her breasts at the same time. Was she intentionally torturing him?
    “Hold out your hand,” he directed, standing in front of her.
    * * * *
    Lauren gave him her right and stared like a hypnotized idiot at his sculpted chest, his lean ribs, and his firm abs while he hooked a loop over her thumb and proceeded to wrap her wrist and knuckles.
    She finally looked down at what he was doing and asked, “What’s with the tape? I thought I was going to wear gloves.”
    “You’ll need both.”
    “Oh.”
    He secured it with Velcro then looked at her expectantly. She handed him her left next and he went to work, wrapping that one too.
    Squatting down for a second, he picked up the gloves and held them out for her. She fought her hands inside and he snugged up the closures around her wrists.
    “How does it feel?”
    “How’s it supposed to feel?”
    “No pinching? Can you make a fist?”
    “It’s good.”
    “Then you’re all set. Come on.” He brought her over to the bag.
    Wes took up a position in front of the bag and directed Lauren’s attention to his feet which, he pointed out, were shoulder-width apart.
    Mmm, so they are.
    “Are you paying attention?” he asked.
    Lauren jumped, ripping her eyes away from his amazing shoulders.
    “Yes,” she said with a blush.
    “Don’t lock your knees. Are you right or left handed?”
    “Right.”
    “Okay, so you’re going to want your left foot forward and your right foot back, toe somewhere between twelve and two. See?”
    “Yes.”
    “Another thing, don’t plant your right heel.”
    She looked and nodded.
    “Keep your hips right under your shoulders and don’t lean. Your body should be one solid unit.” He moved aside and waved her forward. “Reach out with your arm.”
    She raised her glove and he moved her closer to the bag.
    “Good, you don’t want to overextend. Balance is important.”
    Lauren’s body temperature climbed several degrees once he started positioning her. His hands followed her legs and took hold of her feet, turning them out. When he caught her at the hips she nearly melted, but thankfully he didn’t seem aware. By the time he released her shoulders she was almost dizzy, but he wasn’t finished yet. Wes stepped directly behind her, his solid body pressed right up against hers, and his arms came around her as he took hold of her wrists to demonstrate how to throw a punch. At that point, she didn’t care if she ever threw a punch, she did not want this moment to end.
    But they did punch and jab as one being until he felt confident she understood how to strike without injuring herself. Then he walked around to the other side and took hold of the bag, facing her. His smile was like a narcotic—tough to overcome once hooked.
    “Center of the bag, Lauren. Hands tight, wrists strong.”
    Her first two hits careened off the sides, and she blushed because she wasn’t concentrating. Not that she was going to explain herself. It was hard enough having to ignore how intently he was watching her without admitting he was unraveling her.
    “Come on, focus,” he said.
    Easier said than done, but somehow she managed it and he cheered her on. “Give me more.”
    Give him more? The man didn’t know what he was asking. She laughed and struck again, and again, and again, using her sexual frustration, her close proximity