Zane was a man of very few words, despite being his trainer for many years he only really spoke when absolutely necessary, his deep set eyes typically boring into you without so much as a grumble escaping his lips as you coached him through various boxing exercises and stretches. Though...today was different. He had invited you to say late at the boxing center with him. Saying he wanted to 'coach you' for a change. What?

So, now here you were, bent over forwards, your arms dangling in front of your face and his rough calloused hands digging into your waist as he continued to tell you to 'breathe'. His voice deep, a low almost whisper like tone. He was truly trying to kill you if he thought that would help you breathe. You were too focused on trying to not rub up against his groin to breathe!

"Mia cara...breathe, you're hitching your breath," Zane practically whispered into your ear, his hands sliding further down, grasping your hips.