That expression always sends a hot rush down her spine. He's like a bull, she thinks. Some magnificent, powerful creature too beautiful for words.

Fuck, she's got it bad.

She doesn't give herself time to think, just snarls and fakes left, spinning right at the last second, coming around with an elbow aimed at his head. She's ready to dance away if he tries to grab her.

Don't want to make it too easy, now, do we?