by Roxy Harte
Shiro laughed as he sat down on the bench in front of me. “Enemy, is it?”
Looking from him to her, their similarities were striking and unsettling. Height, weight, shared facial features. It was so obvious they were twins. The one distinction that set them apart was her overbleached short and spiked hairstyle and his long, dark brown hair. Their worst shared trait, at least on first glance, was that they both seemed terminally happy. How could anyone be filled with so much joy he bubbled over with it?
Suki brushed my arm and asked, “Didn’t you hear last call for staging?”
“I heard.”
“You’re not going?” she asked softly. “Because of your fight with your father?”
I stewed on that a moment before replying. “Not completely about him. I’m just not enjoying this anymore. Once, I did. Once, I competed for fun, but lately it has been about winning, getting the free advertising, lining up sponsors. And today I accepted that it isn’t my dream; it’s his dream. I knew that before. I just never put much thought into it.”
“You’re not quitting because you took silver? Because the going got tough?”
“What?” I gasped. “No! Is that what you think?”
Suki shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what your fans will think.”
I stood up, hands in fists. Shiro chuckled softly, and I realized I’d been played. “So if I lose and don’t come back to another tournament ever, you believe everyone will think I am a sore loser?”
She shrugged, but her eyes told me that was exactly what she thought.
“Damn it. There is no out then. Ever.”
“Technically, if you compete in Nationals next year and take all gold, no one could say anything.” Shiro offered his opinion gently. “If you still feel like retiring, you could announce your decision on a high note.”
“Hey!” I gave him a look. “No one said anything about retiring. I’m just tired. I want a break. I want to find joy, bliss.” I didn’t know if I would even recognize those emotions if I did feel them, but I wanted to find out if I could.
“Because of what happened in the desert this afternoon, now you think you need bliss?” he asked smartly.
Suki frowned. “What happened this afternoon?”
“Nothing!” Shiro and I both answered quickly.
“Oh shit!” Her eyes widened accusingly. “You tied her up on a game day! You should be horsewhipped, Shiro Kai!”
I smirked, hearing his sister admonish him. I stood, grabbed my gear, and headed toward staging. Shiro asked, “Where are you going?”
“I have a match…against your sister…and I suggest you tell her she better bring her game face. She’s looking a little flustered there. Wouldn’t want her to be distracted.” I smiled and winked as I hefted my gear bag onto my shoulder. Taking the stairs two at a time, Shiro and Suki were on my heels.
* * * *
Taping on my gloves, I noticed my wrists were still indented with the braid of the rope. The marks looked so beautiful, but I couldn’t get trapped in reminiscing. Later would be more than soon enough to remember the most amazing afternoon I’d ever had.
Four fights later, I was done. Beat. Every muscle hurt in places they’d never hurt before, and I knew the rope session was partly to blame. It was down to me and Suki. This should be interesting. She looked as fresh as a morning rose, and I certainly wasn’t at my best as we faced each other and tapped gloves.
There were two things I knew for certain. I didn’t want to wait another year to retire, and I wanted to try to create a friendship with Suki and Shiro.
The referee shouted, “Hajime,” and the match began.
The fight was a blur. She was fast. I was fast, but not as fast as usual. I took a few solid punches that I didn’t lean away from fast enough, but then I landed a few solid punches on her as well. We fought to score, everything technically correct, and I found I really wanted to spar her for real to see what she really had, what I had. She was a worthy opponent. Too soon the bout was over and the winner was being announced.
I would go home with a gold medal after all. I’m not sure who was more surprised, me or Suki. She wasn’t happy about it. I tried to talk to her, but she left the ring too quickly, and I didn’t follow because I saw my father already pushing through the crowd to get to me. He was red-faced, and as soon as he got close enough, stuck his finger in my face. “We are going to talk when we get back to the hotel. Get your stuff.”
It was an order, and there would be hell to pay if I didn’t go to the car with him immediately. I wasn’t surprised he was still angry. Even if he wasn’t mad at me, I’d given up on congratulations or accolades years before. He was always ready to tell me everything I could have done better though. I caught Shiro’s concerned expression from the sidelines, and then he did the unimaginable. He stepped into the fray. “Hello, sir. I’m Shiro Miura.”
My father didn’t shake his outstretched hand. Shiro didn’t seem to mind. “I wanted to tell you congratulations.”
He was smiling. He was always smiling. I let out the breath I was holding and smiled back at him. “Thank you. I think I ruined your sister’s day.”
“She’ll get over it once she sees the rewind. Right now she’s feeling robbed.”
“Robbed? What?”
Shiro shrugged.
“She thinks it was rigged?”
Beside me, my father was seeing red. All the telltale signs were there. I needed to get him out of the coliseum as fast as possible. I told Shiro, “I have to go. I don’t want to leave things badly with Suki, but—”
“I understand.” He looked at my father, and I knew then that he did understand. Anyone who took one look at my father would see a man on the verge of destruction. “Will you be okay?”
I nodded and mouthed, Call me.
He winked and then walked away.
“You will not speak to that boy or his sister ever again.”
I turned and looked at my father. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but now wasn’t the time. Veins stood out in his neck and temples. He was shaking. Someday he was going to have a stroke. I just hoped it wasn’t today. I turned and walked away, knowing he’d follow me all the way to the car.
Every eye seemed to follow us. I’m sure half of the room was anxiously anticipating one of our famed blowups. The other half of the room feared for my safety. My father might be a powder keg, but he would never hurt me.
Suki and Shiro stood at the exit. They both looked worried.
I forced a smile and high-fived Suki as I approached. “Awesome match.”
“I’ll beat you next time,” she said confidently.
Shiro grabbed my hand. “Celebrate with us tonight.”
My father pushed my shoulder. “Car now! You have nothing to celebrate.”
Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile and told my new friends, “Soon. Lunch, dinner…just let me know where and when,” and then I marched forward and out through the doors like a good little soldier. I wasn’t feeling very well, but I was all warrior. I didn’t want it to come down to war between my father and me, but I needed some freedom to figure out who I was and what I wanted. I was no longer sure the life he had planned for me was the life I needed.
In the backseat of the car I remained stonily silent. My father ranted until we reached the hotel. I didn’t wait for him. I got out, slammed the door, and went directly to my room. Childish, not warrior-like.
When he knocked, I didn’t answer. I wasn’t even mad at him. I was mad at myself. I’d had every opportunity to tell him how I felt, and I hadn’t. Maybe I thought it was better to be yelled at than to keep fighting back when arguing had never helped in the past. He never heard a word I said.
I was over it.
Done.
Chapter Four
Eventually the pounding stopped, but I knew he would be back for our early-morning run and to rant a little more before he headed to the dojo and I, to class. My lack of performance in
the arena would be one more argument for why I should drop out of college and focus on my training.
Defeated but still simmering, I took a shower. What is it about showers that makes everything seem more desperate? I didn’t even realize how desperate I was until I started crying. And then I don’t know how long I stood there wishing for a fairy godmother to whisk me off to a different life.
Times like these, when I knew I’d disappointed my dad most, was when I missed my mom the worst. It had been a long time, but I remembered her always seeming to be on my side, backing me up in whatever I wanted to do. I wondered if she would still be in my corner?
Silly, but sometimes I thought I felt her presence. In the shower I wanted to believe she was there, giving me strength. I knew what I needed to do. A voice in my head had been insisting for months that I start looking for my own place, closer to the college and my job. Be brave, the voice in my head said, and I pretended it was my mom.
I dried and dressed, then pulled on jogging pants and an old, comfy T-shirt. I wrapped my wet hair into a tight knot and secured it with an elastic band, not caring that it still dripped. Even though I wasn’t particularly hungry, I flipped through the room service menu, thinking that I should probably eat. I hadn’t eaten since much earlier in the day. I remembered breakfast at four thirty, my normal protein laced fruit smoothie, but there hadn’t been time for lunch…or dinner.
A soft knock at the door startled me. “Not tonight, Dad. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I looked through the peephole to make certain he’d walked away, but it wasn’t my father. Shiro! I hurried to open the door, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him in. I looked up and down the hallway to make sure no one had seen him.
“That was dramatic,” he said once I closed the door. Shiro had changed clothes since the last time I’d seen him. He wore a tailored button-down shirt in lavender and blue print. The cotton fabric seemed to mold to his lithe frame, accentuating his shoulders and making him seem way too sexy. His pants were also tailored and screamed money, which made me wonder what he did for a living. I hadn’t considered asking before and rope tricks didn’t seem like a high-money-earning job. Though, who knew, maybe I was wrong about that. Karate didn’t seem like it should be a big money earner, but it had done well by my dad and his employees.
I shrugged. “I think I’m grounded.”
His eyebrows went up. “How old are you?”
“Does it matter? I live at home. His house, his rules. It doesn’t matter if I’m twelve or twenty-two. Winning is a rule.”
He shook his head. “That doesn’t seem a little ridiculous to you?”
I pushed him into a chair and then sat on his lap, straddling his legs, to keep him trapped. “I don’t want to talk about my dad. Please tell me you came to kidnap me and take me to wherever you and Suki are celebrating.”
“Sorry to disappoint, darlin’. Sis is out with Mom and Dad, pigging out on an all-you-can-eat steak buffet, and that’s so not my style.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of shiny handcuffs. Smiling wickedly, he said, “I thought I’d see if these fit you.”
“Metal, not rope?” I teased and restrained myself from ripping off his shirt.
“Didn’t want to be too obvious. Though I’ll gladly tie you up again, anytime you want.”
I ignored the offer. I wasn’t that ready to face my demons, or whatever it was I’d felt in the desert. “Maybe I’ll use the handcuffs on you.”
He fidgeted beneath my lap. “No way.”
“Nervous?” I kissed the corner of his mouth and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. So much for restraint. “I let you tie me up in a desert when you were a total stranger. The least you could do is let me have a little fun now that we know each other better. I’ve had a really shitty day.”
He shook his head. “I’m the master.”
“Master, is it?” Curious. Did I mistake something there? Maybe he was into role-playing and this was a game. “Does that make me your sex slave?”
“Where’s your father?” He avoided my question.
“In his room, two floors up.”
“He won’t come back down here tonight?”
“Are you kidding? It’s after midnight. He fell asleep the minute he got to his hotel room,” I assured him.
He wrapped his hand around my neck and pulled me into a kiss. It was a slow, decadent kiss, lots of tongue slides. When I started to pull back, he held my neck and didn’t let me. I kissed him back harder, letting myself get lost in bliss, because if he wasn’t going to let me go…I might as well enjoy it.
I unbuttoned his shirt, then slid my hands down his bare chest. It was smooth, completely hairless, and so muscular. If he wasn’t so warm, I might have thought he was chiseled from marble. He finally released me from the kiss. He whispered against my temple as he caught my hands in his. “What are you doing?”
“Part of my evil plan. Get you naked, then get you helpless.”
“By helpless, you mean you’re still hoping to put me in handcuffs?”
I smiled sweetly but didn’t comment. I was still working on the getting-him-naked part. Managing to pull one hand free, because he wasn’t really restraining me, I stroked his cheek and gazed deeply into his eyes. Admittedly an evil distraction to keep his mind off the fact that my next move was unbuckling his belt. It worked beautifully and allowed me to unfasten his fly and unzip his jeans.
His mouth claimed mine, making it harder to think about what I’d planned next. Two playing the distraction game perhaps.
I pushed down his briefs, exposing his solid erection. He pulled back and lifted a questioning eyebrow. I teased, “I have ways of getting what I want.”
He asked, “Oh really?” but it sounded strangled, needy.
“Um-hmm.” I slid my fingers to encompass the head of his penis and squeezed, which brought a soft sound to his throat. I saw that as encouragement and circled the rim softly before stroking down his length.
“Stephanie,” he said my name and nothing more. He’d closed his eyes.
Smiling like a naughty Cheshire cat, I moved off his lap and onto my knees. I watched his face for a reaction, but he barely cracked open his eyes. I lowered my face, taking the deep-colored head into my mouth. I swirled and nibbled. Soon I was tasting the sweetness of precum on its tip. “Mmm.”
I glanced up at him and saw his eyelids were again closed. I pushed his length to the back of my mouth, bumping his head hard and fast against the wall of my throat. When he moaned, I knew I’d done something right. I rubbed my hands up his thighs to his stomach and felt his abdominals tighten. If he doesn’t fuck me now, I will handcuff him to the bed and take what I want. I pulled his length free of my mouth, grabbed his hands, and pulled him up. I got the distinct impression he would rather have stayed in the chair. “Come on. I want you in my bed.”
“I was comfortable,” he argued. “I was fine.”
I smirked. “Want more? Come to my bed. You’ll get a lot more.”
He sighed but complied, peeling off his shirt and letting it fall to the floor. His shoes, jeans, and underwear also fell to the floor before he lay back against the pillows. He stretched out, getting comfortable, and I straddled him again, dangling the shiny handcuffs over his face. “Let me have my way with you.”
He seemed to ponder it. “Does it get my dick back in your mouth faster if I agree?”
I waggled my eyebrows. “Definitely.”
He lifted his hands over his head. “Please don’t make me regret this.”
Chuckling, I attached the cold steel around one wrist, circled the chain through a part of the headboard, and then clicked the cuff around his other hand. I leaned forward and whispered against his cheek, “Thank you,” before making good on my promise and sliding back between his legs.
“Where was I?” I teased, then pulled his erection into the deepest part of my throat, sucking hard, harder, taking him by surprise, making him moan and pull his hands against the cuf
fs. I laughed around his cock, at his curse, but softened how hard I was sucking him.
I licked and tugged his flesh with my teeth as I eased his length in and out. I took my time circling the sensitive ridge of flesh of his corona, then plunged him deep again, molding my mouth around him so he felt all the soft places of my mouth down his length. I bumped the head against the back of my throat, again and again. He was on edge. So ready. I backed off with softer strokes, dragging out the inevitable and making him squirm. I lifted my head and looked at him, wanting him more than I’d ever wanted anyone. I could straddle him, ride him. Take what I wanted. I didn’t. I swallowed him again, taking him to the edge of sanity and back twice more before allowing him to come in my mouth.
“Oh my God,” he moaned, breathing hard. “Don’t tell me where you learned that. God, Stephanie.”
I smiled, rearranging myself so that I was lying along his length. I drew small circles over his chest with my fingertips. I sucked his nipples. I played with his spent cock, bringing its attention fully back around.
“You aren’t going to unlock these cuffs, are you?”
“Not yet,” I whispered. “Soon.” He’d said the same words to me in the desert earlier, and I enjoyed saying them to him.
I eased my fingers over the ridges of his hard abs, then lower, making him hard, ready. I leaned off the bed to rummage in my backpack for a condom, found one, and quickly sat up to rip open the packet, remove and roll the length of nonlatex from tip to base. I sat back on my knees, pulled my shirt over my head and shimmied out of my sweat bottoms and panties before straddling him.
I leaned forward to suck his nipples while I stroked his sheathed length in my hand, making sure he was up to the task, hard enough. Sure he was, I straddled him, angling him as I did so to let his length sink deep when I sat back.
I liked to ride on top. It always made the guy’s length feel longer—not that Shiro needed any help in that area—and allowed me to control the rhythm. When I had the opportunity for sex, it had to be good sex. In control, I decided how much or how lightly my clit got stimulated. Being on top made sure that his length hit all of the sweet spots, and by alternating rubbing my clit with grinding against his pelvis, I always managed to orgasm.