Page 83 of Filthy Dirty Dom

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At the mental reminder that he and Leslie had an end date, Alex was suddenly feeling pressed for time. He knew it was irrational—there was no telling how long they’d be on Caris. Despite the gravity of their situation, here on this tropical paradise, they’d been spending time relaxing, playing, but their talk of Alex having to leave Leslie, possibly leave New York, left him with a sudden urgency to take their intimacy to new heights. He wanted to drown in her arms, in her body, while he still had the chance.

With the direction his mind was going, his mind filled with images of sex, skin, and sweat, but he told himself that could wait just a bit longer. Before they moved while experiencing sexual delights, he needed to get moving in another way, one that would do Leslie good given all the time she’d spent sitting and one that might mean the difference between life and death at some point.

Rising from his chair, he extended his arms above his head, his muscles contracting and then relaxing under his shirt. He felt the satisfying pull in his back and shoulders, a testament to the stillness of the past few hours.

“I asked Renee if I could make chicken parmesan with her tomorrow,” Leslie suddenly said. "She said she’d teach Bella and me. Maybe you'd want to join us?"

"Sure, Leslie. I'd love to cook with you."

His agreement earned him a radiant smile, one that warmed his heart and simultaneously threatened to shatter it.

“Before tonight’s dinner, though, how about we do our next self-defense lesson?”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise but then a spark ignited in her eyes, her face taking on an eager glow as she likely remembered how up close and personal they’d gotten during their first self-defense session. He certainly ran it through his head often enough.

"Absolutely," she responded.

"Good." She was in leggings and a tank, him in jeans and a T-shirt. They could change, but they could move easily enough in what they were wearing. "Let's go outside this time. It will help you to do some moves on solid ground especially if it’s not level. Someone could attack you outside, so training in a gym isn’t always ideal."

He extended a hand towards her, an inviting gesture. Leslie looked intrigued and slipped her hand into his. With his firm grip around her hand, he helped her to her feet. They walked together towards the patio doors.

"So," she began, her voice filled with curiosity. "What's today's lesson about? Chokeholds? Kicks?"

"A bit of everything. But also awareness. How to read situations, how to anticipate."

Alex and Leslie ventured towards a spot Alex had scoped out, an expanse of land that was relatively flat but slightly inclined, its surface dotted with patches of soft grass and hardened earth. Scattered trees on the perimeter offered a sense of seclusion. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm, almost ethereal glow on the landscape. As the daylight waned, the approaching twilight played tricks on the eyes, throwing elongated shadows and adding an element of unpredictability, mimicking real-life, unpredictable circumstances.

The fading light of the day cast a warm glow on her features, and he marveled at her beauty. He remembered how she’d teased him about going skinny dipping, and the instant possessive reaction he’d had.

Mine, he’d said.

She belonged to him.

No matter what happened in the future, she always would.

But he already knew what was going to happen. Whether it was because of the Russian mob or whether it was because their temporary arrangement came to an end, Alex had to remember that this intimacy he was sharing with Leslie was temporary.

She was his, but she wasn’t his to keep.

That hurt. It killed him.

But for now, as the evening sun bathed them in its golden glow, he would focus on the moment at hand.

They had a lesson to get through.

"Ready?"

Alex’s gaze remained locked on Leslie, an underlying tension simmering beneath his calm demeanor. He watched as she rolled her shoulders, a determined set to her lips.

They began with basic hand-to-hand combat moves. Alex demonstrated each technique, his agile body moving with precision and strength. He showed her how to use her opponent's size against them, how to break free from holds, and how to effectively disarm someone. Every move he taught her was not just about the action, but the reaction it invoked, the ability to stay one step ahead of an adversary.

But the lesson was more than just physical. There was a mental component too, a push and pull of flirting banter, punctuated by knowing smiles and lingering glances. The air between them crackled with a potent mix of exertion, adrenaline, and undeniable attraction.

"Good. Now, try to disarm me," he instructed even as he picked up a small stick. His voice was low, husky from exertion, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. She took a step forward, attempting the move he'd just shown her. They grappled, bodies pressed close.

"Watch closely, Leslie," Alex instructed, his voice a husky whisper in the warm, summer air. "Remember, the key is to anticipate the next move." He moved closer, his gaze locked on hers, their bodies brushing in a way that was almost casual, almost incidental. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through them, an undeniable spark that neither could ignore.