" Once he reaches my ribs, he moves his hands to my arms, running them up to my shoulder.
“I don’t know what you’re wearing,” he says. “But I like it.”
“Custom-made,” I say.
“And then stolen by you?”
I shrug. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You’re touching me.”
“I’m trying to get my key back.”
“Sounds like an excuse to touch me.”
He smiles and leans forward so his mouth is at my ear. “I don’t see you stopping me.”
“If I had, I wouldn’t be able to do this.”
His eyes shoot up in alarm, but he doesn’t have enough time to guess what I’m about to do until I’ve already done it.
Yes, I knee him. Right between the legs.
He takes some time to recover. Enough for me to exit the cell and lock him in.
He stares at me levelly. “That was low. "

― Tricia Levenseller , Daughter of the Pirate King (Daughter of the Pirate King, #1)