Searching for Shadows, page 17
A weak smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked up at him. “Well, she’s been gone for a while. But I think it’s about time I brought her back.”
He grinned, released her shoulders, and held out his hand in invitation. “Want to start now?”
chapter twenty-one
Connelly pushed all of her furniture to the edges of the living room, then went out to his car parked in the driveway behind her poor Hyundai, which hadn’t been driven in months.
She followed him as far as the front porch. “When did you get your car?”
He popped the trunk and pulled out a gym bag and a folded mat. “I asked Ash to bring it over when he stopped by last night.”
He returned to the house and unfolded the mat. It was bigger than she expected, covering most of the living room floor. The dogs hopped up on the couch and watched them with curiosity—Rebel with her front paws crossed regally and Alfie sitting on her back like a little prince surveying his kingdom from his mount.
“Come here.” Connelly beckoned her over, all masculine confidence. “I’ll show you some basic Judo throws.”
“I don’t know...” She eyed the mat. “Judo?”
“I am a black belt. Fully qualified to teach.”
“But you barely survived our playground tussles.”
“That was before special forces training and years of dedicated mat time.” He stretched his arms over his head to loosen his muscles, and she found her gaze wandering down as his T-shirt rode up, exposing his flat stomach. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, and the gray fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination.
An ache bloomed in her belly, catching her by surprise. Was that... desire? She hadn’t wanted anyone for a very long time. In fact, the last person she’d wanted was...
Him.
At that party.
Right before her life became a living hell.
He caught her staring and grinned. “Like what you see?”
Dammit. She flushed and looked away, wrapping her arms around herself. She hated that he caught her. Hated it more that she was staring in the first place.
This was Connelly.
She shouldn’t feel anything but the warm affection of friendship towards him, but the emotions swirling inside her went way beyond friendship.
“Hey,” he said softly and extended a hand. “No pressure, Vee. You set the pace.”
She blew out a long breath and looked at his open palm, then back up into those deep brown eyes so full of understanding.
This was Connelly.
There was no man in the world she trusted more.
She placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her onto the mat. His fingers closed gently around hers, warm and solid.
“First lesson,” he began as they stood face-to-face, “is balance. You want to be grounded but flexible enough to evade attacks.”
She swallowed hard as he moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Her body was tense, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap.
“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing in her ear. “I’m here with you. You’re safe.”
She took a deep breath and forced her body to loosen.
“There you go. Feet shoulder width apart, one foot slightly in front of the other.” He nudged her legs with his own. “Bend your knees. Like I said, Judo is all about balance. It’s not about strength or brute force. It allows you to take on an opponent much bigger and stronger than you.”
Closing her eyes, she tried to push away the gnawing fear that clawed at her insides. Focused instead on his words and the soothing warmth of his body against her back.
“Good,” Connelly whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “Now, I want you to imagine someone trying to grab you from behind.”
A wave of dread washed over her, making her stiffen. Images of faceless attackers filled her mind, their hands reaching for her—
“Veronica,” he interrupted, voice still gentle but firm enough to snap her out of the panic tailspin. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The assurance cut through the fog of anxiety, and his touch tethered her to reality. She was safe with him. She’d always be safe with him. “I… I know.”
He gave her a gentle squeeze. “You’re not helpless. You’ll never be helpless again. An attacker will always make a mistake, giving you the opportunity to evade or counter. You just have to learn to recognize those mistakes and take advantage. Let me show you how.”
She exhaled the breath caught in her chest and nodded, clenching her fists at her sides until her nails dug into her palms. “I’m not helpless. Not anymore.”
“No, you’re not. Now keep your hands up.” He stepped around to face her. “Do you remember the game we used to play as kids where we tried to knock each other off balance?”
The memory brought a ghost of a smile to her lips. “You were never very good at it.”
“Well, I’m much better now. Judo is a bit like that. Now, imagine I’m your attacker, and I’m trying to pull you towards me. Don’t resist. Just go with it.”
He demonstrated by reaching out and gently tugging on her shirt. She stepped forward involuntarily.
“Good,” he said again. “The key is to act quickly and decisively. First, don’t panic. Take a deep breath and stay focused. Look at your foot placement. See how your front foot is right by mine. That’s exactly where you want it. You step into the attack, moving in the direction of my off-balance, which is toward my forward foot. And if I were to grab you like this—” He tightened his grip on her shoulder, just enough to make her aware of it. “—you would grab my collar with one hand and my sleeve with the other. That’s a standard Judo grip. Yeah, that’s it. See how it keeps me from bringing my arms up? Now pivot your back foot, turning your body sideways.”
She complied, blading her body between his legs. The closeness was electrifying, and the heat in the room seemed to intensify. She wondered if it affected him the same way it was her. His expression gave nothing away, but the way his breath hitched when her hip brushed his thigh told her everything she needed to know.
He was feeling it, too, but he was trying to ignore it and focus on the lesson. Which she should be doing, but every breath she drew filled her senses with him. Her chest felt tight, the protective walls she’d built around her heart starting to shake and break apart.
“Exactly like that,” he said, his voice a little rougher than before. “Hook your leg behind mine, targeting the back of my knee. At the same time, pull my collar forward and push my sleeve back. This will help to further off-balance me, and as I start to fall...” He tilted back like he was going to fall. “Pull me over your hips and shoulders, rotating in the direction of the throw. That will add power to your sweeping leg and help you maintain control of the throw. Got it?”
Dammit, she had to concentrate. He was trying to help her, and all she could think about was pushing him down on the mat and straddling him. It had been so long since she’d felt this surge of raw desire. To be in such close proximity with a man and to be so utterly aware of every movement, every brush of their bodies, every shared breath. It was intoxicating and downright dangerous.
She took a shaky breath, forcing herself to focus on the lesson and not the tantalizing scent of his body or the heat of his gaze. “Uh, yeah. I… I think so.”
“All right. Let’s try it slowly, step by step. I’m gonna grab you again...”
She followed his instructions, and to her surprise, he landed on the mat at her feet.
“No way.” She scowled down at him. “That was too easy. You’re twice my size. Were you helping me or something?”
“No, that was all you.” He popped to his feet. “The goal of Judo is maximum efficiency with minimum effort. By using your attacker’s own momentum, you expend less energy and still gain control. It’s balance and leverage.”
Unconvinced, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, but what if the attacker is stronger or faster? I mean, not everyone will be as sloppy as you were just now.”
He chuckled. It was a soft rumble that reverberated through her nerve endings and made her belly jitter. “That’s the beauty of it. Strength and speed are a factor, sure. But technique can often outmaneuver them. Same as in chess, it’s not about brute force but strategy. You’re small, and they’ll likely underestimate you. That’s their first mistake. Use it to your advantage.”
She waved him forward. “Come at me again. Like you mean it this time.”
He grinned and launched himself at her. Once again, she stepped into the attack and rolled him over her hip. He landed with a hard exhale on the mat.
She swallowed, looking at her hands. She’d never felt so powerful before. “Okay. Wow.”
“Again?” he asked and rolled smoothly to his feet.
“Yes.” She sank into her stance and brought her hands up. “Let’s do it.”
“No hesitation this time. When I grab you, you lock up for an instant. That’s your mistake—one that a bad guy could take advantage of. Make it fast and fluid.”
He landed again, hard, shaking the knick knacks on the bookshelf. Rebel stirred on the couch, a low grumble of concern coming from deep within her chest.
“It’s okay. I’m okay,” he told the dog, then popped back to his feet with the grace of a panther. “Perfect. Just like that. Now we just have to practice until it’s instinctive. In a real situation, you won’t have much time to think. Your body needs to react naturally based on the training.”
“But what if they get me on the ground?” Just saying the words sent a shiver of fear cascading down her spine. “How do I escape?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll practice pins and escape techniques, but I want you to focus on throws right now. Then nobody will ever take you to the ground.”
“I like the sound of that. Okay. Show me another throw.”
The afternoon drifted by in a blur of instruction: blocks, holds, evasions. Connelly was patient and gentle, always making sure she was okay before continuing. Each new move gave her a sense of control that she hadn’t felt in years. He taught her footwork and stance, how to fall without hurting herself, and all the ways to use an opponent’s momentum against them. Each throw had a name she couldn’t remember—all in Japanese—but she memorized the movements Connelly demonstrated: his body fluid as water, his strength grounded in calm assurance.
She watched him, mesmerized. He’d removed his shirt, and sweat gleamed on his torso, muscles rippling subtly as he moved gracefully around the mat. There was something hypnotic about it, his every move telling a story of survival and strength, of embracing fear and transforming it into resilience. She found herself drawn in by his energy, by the silent promise that she too could embody such power.
As the day wore on, Veronica’s arms ached, and her legs were heavy with exhaustion. Still, she shook her head when Connelly asked if she was ready to call it a day.
“No,” she panted. “Let’s do it one more time.”
Connelly nodded and positioned himself in front of her, his breathing steady and calm despite the hours of physical exertion. “All right.”
Veronica steeled herself as he grabbed her once again. She’d done this enough times now that the initial shock faded, replaced by a newfound determination. She remembered his lessons and pivoted her body, hooking her leg through his just as he had shown her. There was a moment of suspended tension before he landed on the mat once more.
“Excellent.” He got back on his feet with a spring in his step. “You got it. You’re a natural.”
“My God.” She bent double and breathed out a long breath as sweat trickled into her eyes. “How are you still so energetic?”
He chuckled and tossed her a towel from his gym bag. “Years of training. Plus, I’m not the one doing all the throwing. Being the throwee is much easier.”
For the second time in as many days, she laughed. She was tired, yes, but there was a spark of joy that had been absent in her life for the longest time. It felt good to laugh.
“Well, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck,” she admitted, pulling her ponytail free and running her hands through her sweaty, tangled hair.
“Bet you’ll sleep well tonight.”
She had slept pretty damn well last night with his arms around her. This thing between them—the spark, the heat…
She didn’t know how she felt about it yet.
“But for now, let’s call it a day,” Connelly suggested, already rolling up the mat. “You’ve done enough for one session.”
“No,” she protested, “I want to keep going. I need to be able to defend myself.”
He stared at her for a moment before sighing. “Vee, you’ve learned faster than anyone else I’ve ever trained. But you need to rest and let your body rejuvenate. We’ll pick this up tomorrow. Go take a hot shower to loosen up those muscles. You’re going to be sore.”
He was probably right. Her muscles were already singing with fatigue, and a hot shower was starting to sound like heaven. “All right,” she conceded. “ A shower would be nice.”
Alfie jumped down from the couch and padded to the door, glancing back with an expectant expression on his adorable little face. Rebel was much less equanimous about her need to go outside. She pawed at the door hard enough that it rattled in its frame.
Connelly stopped her from going to the door and pulled her in, pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “No, I’ll deal with the dogs. You go take care of yourself.” Rebel barked impatiently and he released her. “Okay! I’m coming.”
The dogs almost tripped over each other in their hurry to get outside, and Connelly’s laughter filled the room before he shut the door behind them.
Veronica dragged herself to the bathroom and peeled off her workout clothes, dropping them in a pile on the floor before stepping into the steamy warmth of the shower. The jets of water massaged her aching muscles, and she let out a groan at the pleasure of it.
As she stood there, letting the warm water soothe her aching body, she replayed the afternoon—the way Connelly moved with such precision, the way his eyes sparkled when she picked up a new technique, the feel of his muscles under her hands. What it would be like to touch him, not in defense, but with affection and desire?
Touch him like she had this morning before Ash interrupted...
The memory of the kiss was so vivid, so real. She could still feel the warmth of his breath against her skin, his lips somehow both soft and hard on hers, promising so much more...
God, she desperately wanted more.
But was she ready? Could she actually take that step? She hadn’t slept with anyone since before the attack. She had barely been able to masturbate without the memories assaulting her all over again.
There was one way to find out…
She closed her eyes and trailed a hand down the front of her body, dipping her fingers between her legs. Her breath hitched as pleasure ignited deep inside her belly at the first tentative touch of her fingers. She leaned against the tiled wall, the water cascading down her body while her mind kept replaying that kiss—a kiss that was all-consuming, passionate, and heartbreakingly sweet. It had sparked something in her, something she hadn’t felt since... well, the last time they’d kissed.
She pictured his hands, strong but gentle as they had expertly guided her through the training. He’d take control in bed like that if she let him.
Could she let him?
Yes. Her body was one hundred percent on board with that idea if the sudden slickness between her legs was any indication. She touched her clit and a wave of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her legs trembling. She imagined it was Connelly’s hands on her, not her own, his touch exploring every inch of her body.
Her fingers moved expertly as her mind painted vivid pictures of him undressing her, his eyes raking over her body with raw desire. She imagined the chiseled lines of his torso molding against hers, the gruff sound of his voice whispering dirty things into her ear as he claimed her. A moan escaped her as she imagined his lips tracing a path down her navel, sending sparks flying across her skin.
The bathroom was a steamy oasis, the air thick and heavy with moisture. She stood in the center of it all, consumed by the fantasy of him. Her fingers moved with purpose, tracing every curve and dip of her body, igniting a fiery heat within her. The memory of Connelly’s lips on hers lingered like a tantalizing promise, and she longed to feel them again. With each passing second, her desire for him grew stronger, consuming her completely.
She craved him.
More than she had ever craved anyone else.
Her breath hitched as her fingers quickened their pace, chasing after the pleasure that was always just out of reach. She relished the memory of his scent, his touch, his taste. The sensations drove her higher and higher until she trembled with anticipation on the edge of release.
And then she fell.
The orgasm washed over her in a wild rush that left her body tingling and her knees weak. She slumped against the shower wall, gasping for breath as the water washed away her exhaustion and replaced it with a warm, languid satisfaction.
Holy shit.
She’d actually orgasmed.
She hadn’t thought it was possible for her anymore.
“Veronica?” Connelly tapped on the bathroom door, his voice muffled by the wood. “Are you okay? You’ve been in there for quite a while.”
“I’m fine,” she called back, stifling a laugh. This definitely wasn’t what he’d meant when he told her to take care of herself. “Just... uh, just give me another minute.”
There was a beat of hesitation.
“Take your time,” he finally said, the hint of concern still lingering in his voice.
She waited until his footsteps retreated from the door, then closed her eyes and sank to the floor, curling her knees towards her chest. She let herself drift in the warm silence of the bathroom, her body still humming from the sheer pleasure she’d experienced. It was a strange feeling—strange and wonderful.
