...still tasting her there, his hands at his sides, chest heaving, hair probably a mess from her roaming fingers. She wouldn't look at him, a study in casualness except for the one hand forced into a fist at her side. Trying to keep herself from fidgeting no doubt. She was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. And she'd more than proven her point. If he wanted a partner to spar with, in bed or out, she was a worthy opponent, not some delicate flower he had to handle with care.