Jig walked her through a series of strikes with occasional interjections from Izzy. Each time he touched her, a hand under her arm, a shift of her shoulders, the discomfort grew less and less. After a short time, she was able to completely ignore the fact a man had his hands on her and view it from a totally educational standpoint.
Chloe worked for hours with the couple, until she could barely lift her arms. Then, after a well-deserved shower, she spent a few hours with Shell and her adorable daughter Beth while the majority of the guys were out of the clubhouse. Felt good to leave her room, and even better to know she wouldn’t run into Logan. Shell had assured her he was gone until the following day. That night, exhausted from the intense activity and emotionally drained, Chloe fell into a deep sleep right after dinner.
The next morning, as sore as if she’d been in a car accident, she returned to the makeshift gym an hour and a half before she was scheduled for another training session. She ran through everything Jig and Izzy had taught her again and again.
Once the badass duo joined her, Chloe pushed herself to the limit, reveling in everything they showed her. After another few hours, her muscles cramped with a fury, sweat ran in rivulets down her face, and she felt ready to collapse in the very best way. Her soul was soaring, and for the first time since she’d been kidnapped, she was too wrung out to feel fear or anxiety. Even when she had a man cuffed to the bed, she didn’t have the peace she did now. Not only was she free from the grip Lefty had on her, she hadn’t thought about Logan for the past few hours. Her mind was clear of everything but the combinations and deadly strikes Jig and Izzy taught her. That and the fantasy of sinking into a hot bath to ease her aches and pains.
“All right, hon, I think we need to call it a day. You’re not gonna be able to fucking crawl out of bed tomorrow.” Jig said, pulling off the punch mitts.
Panting, Chloe tried to wipe a damp lock of hair out of her eyes with her gloved hand. All she managed was to plaster the strands across her forehead. Whatever, didn’t matter what she looked like. This was about impressing with her skills not appearance. “I’m good. I want to go a little longer.”
Jig and Izzy exchanged a glance. Didn’t matter if they wanted her to stop. Her body, her decision. And she wanted more. More of the burn, more of those delicious endorphins making her feel invincible.
“She’s done.”
The deep timbre of Logan’s voice had her whirling around. He hovered in the doorway wearing a black T-shirt under his leather cut. Dark wash jeans covered those thick thighs and giant motorcycle boots housed his feet. Arms crossed and shoulder propped against the door, his assessing gaze drank her in. Today, she’d left off the tank and wore only a sports bra and tight workout leggings. It had been a few days since his laser-focus attention had been on her and she’d nearly forgotten how it made her feel stripped bare both emotionally and physically.
And damn him for looking so sexy. Now along with slapping him, she wanted to grab him and demand he bury his face between her legs.
It had been way too long since he made her come and her traitorous body didn’t seem to care that he’d lied and betrayed her.
“Logan,” she said as if he didn’t know his own name. Heavy on the sarcasm, she added, “Sorry, I guess I need to get used to calling you Rocket.”
He pushed off the wall and stalked toward her, his focus never wavering. There was a startling contrast between the man approaching her and the man she’d met as Logan. Rocket was scary as hell. The stare she felt like a caress when she’d first met him in the bar now seemed like an irritable glower. The tense way he held his body seemed as though he was one harsh word away from throwing down with whoever dared cross his path.
Chloe stood in the center of the room, limp and exhausted arms dangling at her sides.
“Uh, we’re gonna jet,” Izzy said, coming up behind Jig. “You really rocked it today, girl. Same time tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah,” Chloe said unable to break away from Rocket’s stare.
“Make it an hour later,” Rocket said.
“How come?” Izzy asked in the most fake innocent voice Chloe had ever heard.
Jig snorted. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Jig propel Izzy out the door with an arm around her shoulders. “When we get home, I’ll show you exactly what he has planned for that extra hour,” Jig murmured to her as he passed by.