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17 | beg like a slut

My eyebrows dip, creating a scowl. "No I'm not."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

I don't miss the way his expression warps into something dark. He doesn't want to be challenged today and I'm feeling extremely on edge and irritable. This is going to be fucking fantastic.

"It's eight."

He raises his sports watch to his eyesight and narrows his eyes. "Actually it's three minutes past, which means you're late."

My eyes roll and I bunch my hair up into a ponytail. Lonzo's eyes follow the action as I strap it with a hairband. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

Lonzo's gaze narrows. "Don't be late again. It's eating into my own time and I've been generous enough to be doing this with you."

"Alright," I say under a hushed breath. "I won't be late again."

"Let's pick up from where we left off the other day," he steps closer. "Your legs are extremely weak. They are one of your best weapons when it comes to a fight and you have almost zero muscle."

I recoil from his words. "Zero?"

He ignores me and turns away, grabbing two pads to slide on his hands and he holds them up to his shoulders. "Combinations with your feet, let's go."

For an hour he runs me into the ground–almost literally.

I am covered head to toe in sweat, kicking, punching. Never in my life has my heart ever beat this fast and yet I feel like I am close to breaking point.

"Harder, harder," he yells at me.

My teeth grit down onto one another as I look up at him, heaving to catch my breath in this suffocating room. So I do, I hit the pad with my foot harder but he shakes his head. "Weak. I said fucking harder, not softer."

I almost growl at his words. Those deep brown eyes are fixed to mine. "I'm not weak."

"Then hit me fucking harder."

A low scream escapes the back of my throat as I swing my leg into the pad. I know it was harder than all my other attempts because even Lonzo's hand flinches from the impact. But he still shakes his head and scoffs at me like what I did was pathetic.

He drops the pads and I stand there, breathing like a possessed demon.

Lonzo sucks in a breath. "You're not even trying."

I shake my head, fists tightening beside me. Before I know what I'm doing I've swung my leg, he's no longer holding up the pads and the front of my foot collides with his ribs. His bones and pure muscle are a lot harder than the pads but for some reason it feels stronger, harsher than anything else I've done today.

His eyes strike with a flash of lightning and suddenly his hand is around my throat, clenching as he draws me to him. Our noses almost brush as he stares down at me with an infuriated glare, nostrils flaring at my sudden attempt at a kick.

I know my pulse is going crazy around his fingers. But neither of us back down.

"How's that for fucking harder?" I snap at him.

His curved features tense at my words and he grips my throat tighter. My legs turn to jelly at the placement of his hand, and the death glare in his eye. Why do I like the idea of his dangerous side? It gives me a thrilling desire to be put in my place.

It's all I've fucking wanted since I stepped foot in this Goddamn house.

"There's that fucking attitude I've been waiting for." He glowers.