Millie's Second Chance (15 page)

“I’m your attacker. I have a knife in my left hand. What’s your first move?” he asked her, and she tried to kick at his wrist and he immediately turned her around and pretended to cut her throat.

“You’re dead! Try it again,” he yelled and she felt her heart rate increase.

Before she could fully recover from his move and his hard body that was wedged against her, he attempted a pretend stab to her midsection. She did a counter karate chop down on his forearm and he swept her legs out from underneath her, causing her to fall on her ass.

“Think, Millie! It’s do or die!” Dalton yelled and she started getting angry at him. He was being so hard on her and all she wanted to do was learn to defend herself and fight off Frank if he found her.

She stood up and took a deep breath, feeling both angry and discouraged. Could she do this? That imaginary shell was beginning to enter her mind. She was safe there. She didn’t feel pain there. She wasn’t inferior there.

They circled one another around the mat and Dalton tried to strike again, but this time she sidestepped and hit him. He was surprised, but he came back again and again, and each time he was rougher and harder, but she evaded his strikes until he tackled her to the mat.

He was huge and immediately he had her pinned to the mat with his body.

She had cried out. The instant fear brought images to her mind she hadn’t thought about in quite some time. Her heart pounded against her chest as she absorbed everything with full force.

He felt so heavy and hard as steel against her more feminine frame. Her breasts were pressed against his chest. She could smell his cologne or deodorant, but she was filled with fear, caught up in the moment and scenario. It reminded her of being attacked and she felt herself losing focus and giving in. The walls were beginning to close up. That shell began to appear thicker and surrounded her in her mind. It was her imaginary escape every time Frank hit her or hurt her. It was her only source of survival and it had nearly killed her that one fateful night.

“Fight him, Millie. Try to get free,” Hank commanded, snapping her out of her thoughts and back to the present reality. He was kneeling to the side of her. He brought her back to the present and let her know that this was training. She tried shoving and moving her legs free, but in all honesty, she was barely trying. She was giving up. She wanted to quit and just get the beating over with. She felt the urge to give up and cry in defeat, but she didn’t want to be weak anymore. She was fighting against herself now, not just against Dalton.

As if Hank saw the emotional struggle in her eyes and her body language, he gave her instructions. “Get your legs free, Millie, and wrap them around his waist against his ribs, high so you can impede his breathing. That’s it, baby, just like that.” She wiggled her hips while gasping for every breath. Dalton was so big and heavy, all muscle and unbeatable.

“Do it, Millie, don’t give up!” Hank yelled, and she maneuvered her legs until she somehow got free and wrapped them around Dalton’s waist.

“Squeeze, Millie!” he yelled and she squeezed, but it didn’t matter. The fear of being restrained by Dalton was overwhelming and she gave up.

“Damn it! I told you this wasn’t for you!” Dalton yelled as he banged his fist down on the mat before he stood up, making her jump and close her eyes at his intensity and anger.

She caught her breath and was struck by his tone and belief that she couldn’t do this.

“I’ve never done anything like this before!” she yelled at him. Her voice cracked and he stared at her with annoyance. He was disappointed in her and she felt guilty, deep inside her heart. God, she should just tell them what had happened and about her own inner struggles right now. She stared at Dalton. He would find her weak and she didn’t want that. She wanted him to respect her and to support her.
I’m making myself crazy.

“I don’t know what to do or how to fight against myself. I’ve never done anything like this before,” she repeated in desperation.

“Because you shouldn’t have to!” Dalton yelled back then paced a few steps, running his hand through his crew-cut hair.

Hank looked at her and touched her knee.

“You have to be able to think quickly, Millie. You can’t fight against the thoughts in your mind or the weaknesses from other things in the past. You have to be in the now, Millie. You almost have to have a sense as to what move your attacker will make. When you see Dalton come down low at you, you need to prepare to get out of the way or get into the immediate position to counteract. As he goes to grab you, I want you to immediately wrap your arms around his neck and latch your legs around his waist, closer to his ribs, and squeeze against him. Make him use his strength and energy trying to get you off.”

“That’s going to hurt when I hit the floor. He’s huge,” Millie replied.

“If you’re attacked, it could be by anyone of any size.”

She nodded in understanding.

“She’s not focused,” Dalton chimed in.

She glared at him as she stood up and unzipped her sweatshirt.

“I am focused,” she replied with attitude then pulled off her sweatshirt and tossed it to the corner. She wore a tight-fitting black tank top tucked into her loose, thin yoga pants. Both men seemed to look her over before she got into a ready stance.

* * * *

Dalton was trying his hardest to act professional and understand what the hell Millie was thinking, but it was difficult. She smelled incredible and was very tough, but he didn’t want her to feel like she needed to fight. He was compelled to protect her, but she seemed distant and independent to the point of frustrating him and his brothers. They had all met last night and talked about her. His brothers were interested, but they knew they needed to tread carefully. His patience and control were being tested especially when rolling around on the mats with her breasts pressed against his body. His dick was so fucking hard he was having trouble concentrating, and now she took off her sweatshirt. Sweet mother of God, she was gorgeous, and for crying out loud she seemed oblivious to it. Most women would have come in here wearing far less and strutting their bodies for attention from him and his brothers, but not Millie. She hid behind loose-fitting clothing and sweatshirts.

“Okay, start again.” Hank interrupted Dalton’s thoughts.

He maneuvered around the room, striking when he thought he could catch Millie off guard, but she surprised him by countering his strikes with hits. She was very angry and her determination to succeed was commendable, but she was far from ready.

He pretended to have the knife again and he struck. She turned and jabbed him in the side. He hid his response and stabbed at her again. This time she nearly tripped but recovered and dodged his move again. He went for the kill and got down low to tackle her.

This time Millie was ready as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips as he took her to the mat. He used his knee to break the fall slightly because she was so much smaller than him.

“Tighten those legs, Millie, and hug him to you so he has to exert the energy to get you off of him,” Hank told her, and she did. She was very strong and nearly choking him as he worked her body with his hands. He could feel her heart racing and he knew his was, too, not from overexertion, but from lust.

She felt good in his arms, all feminine and curvy. He was a big man and would love the feel of a solid, voluptuous woman like Millie in his arms whenever he wanted.

She seemed to be lessening her hold on him and slowly pulled her head back from his shoulder.

They locked gazes as they both breathed heavily, his body covering hers as she lay flat on the mat.

He had no control over his next move and lowered his head, touching his lips to her soft full ones.

* * * *

Millie didn’t know what had come over her or them, for that matter. One minute she was annoyed and angry at Dalton’s words and actions and the next she was absorbed with his scent and his muscles surrounding her. He obviously felt the same attraction and now he was kissing her. He was thorough with his tongue, exploring her mouth as his hands explored her body. She relaxed her legs and he pressed his groin firmly against her mound. Millie moaned as she realized just how big Dalton was and how hard and long his cock felt against her.

She ran her fingers through his hair, kissing him back with as much vigor as he was kissing her. It was intense and then she realized how irrational their behavior was and she tensed up.

Slowly, he released her lips and she just stared at him.

“I…” she began and Dalton remained above her with his hands on either side of her as he raised his chest up, causing her legs to fall awkwardly open and away from his hips. His thick body remained wedged between them.

She tried to scoot back so she could sit up, but he grabbed her thighs, keeping them open and against his rock-solid ones.

He seemed to be breathing just as heavy as she was.

“You’re a beautiful woman who should be pampered and protected. You shouldn’t have to be trained to fight for your life, Millie. It’s wrong.” She felt his indignation against her choice to seek such training. She was past her shock of kissing him and now her determination to fight her fear led her to her response.

“In a perfect world I wouldn’t have to do this, but you don’t know him, Dalton. He beat me and tried to kill me. I’m ashamed of what I allowed him to do for so long. I should have died then.” Tears filled her eyes. For some strange reason, she felt emotional about telling him and Hank.

Oh God, Hank.

She turned toward the side and Hank stared at her. He looked…hungry.

Dalton placed his hand against her cheek. She closed her eyes and absorbed the masculine show of affection.

“Come on. Enough for today,” Dalton said then scooted back, took her hand, and pulled her up. The significant difference between her height and theirs struck her momentarily until Hank took her hand and pulled her to him. Before she knew what he was going to do, she felt his hand against her neck and head and his arm around her waist.

“We can protect you, Millie. My brothers and I want to take care of you.” Hank lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.

She had just kissed Dalton and now his brother Hank was kissing her, and instead of feeling cheap or guilty, she felt aroused. Did she want this? Was she ready to jump into something so crazy when her track record showed nothing but grief and failure with her choice of men?

She began to pull away from Hank’s kiss and he pulled her tightly against him, kissing her more fully until he was ready to release her. By the time their lips mutually drifted apart, her eyes were closed and she was lost in the moment.

“You taste incredible, baby. Better than I imagined.” Hank caressed her cheek with his thumb.

The sound of someone knocking on the front door to the dojo interrupted them and Millie pulled away.

* * * *

Hank walked out of the room to go answer the door and Millie gathered up her belongings. A quick glance at the clock and she saw it was nearly nine o’clock. Had they really been rolling around on the mat for two hours? She swallowed hard then lifted the water bottle to her lips, hoping it would ease some of the heat she felt throughout her entire body.

“You feel okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Dalton asked, and she was startled by his deep voice. He stood inches behind her. She could sense his bulk and it just made her heat up all over again.

“I’m good, Dalton.”

He touched her arm and turned her toward him. She looked up, her head tilting back, and locked gazes with his firm expression. He gave her a look that challenged her initial response to his question. He was quite intimidating and she was achy from their workout, especially from him initially landing on top of her. Truth was, she didn’t care at all. The way he had claimed her mouth and controlled her body in such a way wiped all pain from her thoughts. If she could wrap him or his brothers around her like a blanket, she was certain she would feel safer and more content than ever in her lifetime. That was frightening.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” he asked, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty and also a bit worried. He looked so darn dangerous with his cocky expression, perfect body, and that scar from neck to shoulder. She had to remind herself that he had shown compassion and gentleness, too.

“I’m a big girl, Dalton. The extra padding helps, so don’t worry.” She tried to joke around by making fun of herself, but Dalton’s expression changed.

He stepped closer and placed the palm of his hand against her cheek and his other against her waist.

“You really don’t know how perfect you are, do you?”

“What?” she asked in a whisper, not expecting that particular reply from him. Stewart had always initiated the insults about her chunky body and overlarge breasts. She was used to making fun of herself first or accepting Stewart’s insults. Frank complimented her body but also abused it. Dalton confused her and she attempted to step away as she lowered her head, but Dalton stepped with her.

Somehow she was cornered against the wall. One of his hands was pressed against the padding above her shoulder and the other held her waist.