Grit (Dirty #6) by Cheryl McIntyre Read Free Book Online

important.
    “Not yet. You haven’t mastered the move.” I flick my fingers at her, motioning her to move her ass. “Again.”
    Defiant, Rocky plants her sneakered feet, placing her hands on her hips. Her head tips to the side and forward in the universal sign of go-fuck-yourself. “You’re not my dad, Link, and even if you were, I still wouldn’t do this. I’m done for today .”
    “No,” I agree, “I’m not your dad. I’m your boss and your self-defense instructor. And you will do this because I’m also your—”
    I pause, cutting myself off because I almost say boyfriend. My pulse vibrates in my neck uncomfortably. We pretty much live together. I’m in her bed every night. I know every inch of her body—biblically. We spend any and all free time we have with each other. But we have never labeled this thing between us.
    The word boyfriend has my stomach knotting. I haven’t been anyone’s anything since Livie died. Part of me wants to be Rocky’s everything. The other part can’t fathom it.
    “I fucking care about you,” I correct, “and I want to know you’re capable of protecting yourself.” I motion again. “Let’s go.”
    I’m not backing down. Not on this.
    Lush pink lips pucker in annoyance as two delicate dark brows rise. Even pissed off, she’s sexy as hell. My dick twitches beneath my basketball shorts, taking notice. I try to ignore it, determined to stay on course. We’ve been going at it like rabbits. You’d think my cock would want a break. It doesn’t. Not even a little.
    Sex can wait. Her safety cannot.
    “I’m not getting this tonight,” she says on a sigh, the frustration clear in her voice. “The more you force it, the more I don’t want to even try.”
    She pivots on her heel, reaching for the ropes. A flicker of last night’s dream flashes through my mind, and without thinking, I lunge, grabbing her.
    One hand locks into her ponytail, my other hand closing around her throat. An attack from behind— Rocky’s weakness . I’m pushing her farther than I ever have. Part of me knows I might be going too far. The other part wants to push harder.
    Her reaction is immediate, as it should be. She lowers her chin onto my hand at the same time her fingers lock around my pinky. She yanks, hard, causing me to lose my grip. She performs it perfectly.
    Before I register what’s happening, her other hand swings backward. A rock-hard fist connects with my testicles, setting off an explosion of pain.
    I release her hair automatically, but she isn’t finished with me yet. She steps diagonally and shifts, delivering an additional hit to my groin. This one knocks the breath out of me. I stumble back, but Rocky stays on me, advancing forward with each of my steps back.
    Good girl .
    The side of her hand chops into my jugular, causing my ears to ring and my vision to blur. I groan in discomfort. And then she dispenses the final blow. An unbridled kick between my legs.
    I fall.
    My body curls as I clutch my battered balls. Despite the agony, I’m so damn proud of her. She kicked my ass, which is not an easy feat. I should leave it at that, but I didn’t have my ass handed to me for nothing. This is a training exercise.
    I swipe my leg between her feet, knocking her to the mat. She falls on top of me and I twist quickly so I’m the one above her, pressing her back to the floor.
    “I don’t remember teaching you that move,” I rasp.
    Her chest rises and falls quickly below me, her breasts grazing my bare skin with each gulp of air. Being with her like this, it’s impossible to ignore the attraction—even with the burning ache in my lower regions and my cramping stomach.
    “I’m pretty sure I just taught you a few things,” she puffs. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.” The slow smirk that curves her lips makes me smile—something I’m slowly growing accustomed to.
    “You did a number on the boys.”
    Utilizing another defense move I showed her a while back, she lifts