by JM Stewart
More to the point, if he could get her to relax around him, he might be able to get past her defenses. Maybe, if he were really lucky, they could talk, without pain and pride getting in the way.
A muscle in Becca’s jaw twitched with irritation. After a moment, she blew out a breath.
“Fine. A back rub.” She jabbed a finger at him, and her eyes flashed, warning him not to push his luck. “Only from the waist up.”
“Oh, well, the deal’s off, then.” He waved a hand at her, flippant and dismissive.
An answering half grin cracked her facade, a reward well worth the price of having to incite her irritation. She gave a slow shake of her head but otherwise seemed to ignore his comment. Instead, her lips pursed in concentration and she looked him over with a critical eye again.
“No shoes on my mats and take off the belt.” She pivoted and moved as if to return to the front of the room.
He let out a soft laugh and stepped out of the way of the door. Halfway through pulling his belt loose, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder.
“Did I mention it’s going to be no-holds-barred?” Her eyes glinted at him, mischievous and teasing. “I meant it when I said I want them to practice what I’ve taught them. If they can’t use physical force, they’ll never learn how strong they are. Knowledge is power.”
The grin finally spread, those eyes glittering with self-pleasure and, for a moment, he could only stare in stunned silence. Did she have any idea how gorgeous she was when she looked at him like that? Or how much she made him yearn to tumble her to the mats?
She winked. “Don’t worry, though. I’ve got sparring gear to protect you.”
For the second time in less than ten minutes, he swallowed a miserable groan.
“The things I do for you, woman.” He shook his head but couldn’t stop from grinning right back at her, and yanked his belt from the loops. “You’re definitely going to owe me for this.”
Becca let out a quiet laugh and returned to the front of the room.
All he could do was stare after her. What on earth had he gotten himself into?
Chapter Six
Ten minutes later, Becca stood with Jackson among the group of women in the center of the mats. He now wore sparring gear, which covered him from head to toe in thick, red padding. Nervous butterflies fluttered in Becca’s stomach. A lot of time had passed since she’d last sparred with him. She remembered only too well where the sessions usually led, and the very notion had a lazy, desirous heat seeping through her limbs.
Truth was, she’d never be able to fully move on with her life until she learned the answers to all those questions. Could she have saved their marriage if she’d tried a little harder? If she’d given him the benefit of the doubt? She’d never know unless she actually tried. He was right. She’d simply shut him out, and she owed it to both of them to find out. And it was as simple as asking him for help now.
Steeling herself, she leaned toward Jackson and spoke only loud enough for him to hear. “Same way we’ve always done this, okay?”
“You got it, darlin’.” He winked at her, wickedness glinting in his eyes. “Just promise you’ll be gentle.”
The deep huskiness of his voice sent desire shivering all the way down to her toes. She clenched her jaw to keep the soft, ragged breath from escaping. Why did he have to do that? She could not handle him saying things like that, especially at a time like this, with her students watching.
She turned to face the women again and sent up a silent prayer for strength. If she got through this night with her sanity still intact, it would be a miracle.
“Now grab me.” She stiffened her spine, steeling herself for the contact. “From behind. Like you mean it.”
Jackson chuckled. “I thought we already agreed I couldn’t do that here.”
Her stomach flip-flopped, her hands shaking. If she was going to get those answers, she had to release her anger. She’d held on to the emotion because it was easier than the pain, but in letting down her walls, everything else had come flooding in, too. Like desire. It flowed as easily as water between them, and the other night on the deck had opened the floodgates. She couldn’t forget his mouth hovering over hers, or the solid press of his body against her. Such a simple thing, a kiss, but she couldn’t deny she craved it.
A few of the women in her group giggled. More than a little rattled, she shot a glare over her shoulder. He was enjoying this too much. Never mind that he was sexy as sin when he flirted with her so openly. “Will you be serious, please?”
The amusement fell from his face, but the twinkle didn’t leave his eyes. A breath later, he did as she bade and grabbed her tightly around the shoulders, jerking her back against his length.
“Better?” His voice was a husky hum in her ear, filled with an obvious challenge.
The contact with him, his solid body pressed against her back, turned her knees to mush. She swallowed hard and faced the class again. “I’ve been here before, as I know many of you have. I was walking back to my car after an expo in Seattle—”
“The first night we met.”
The wistful tone of Jackson’s voice behind her invoked the memory. Him sprinting across the darkened street, thinking to be her rescuer, just as she’d flipped her would-be attacker over her shoulder.
She couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the expression on your face when he hit the ground.”
Outright shock had etched his features. As her attacker ran in the opposite direction, Jackson remained where he stood, a few feet in front of her, his mouth hanging open and eyes as big as saucers.
“I always wondered what you were thinking right then.”
Laughter rumbled out of him. “I don’t think you want to know.”
His suggestive tone sent desire rolling in hot little waves through her system. With all the sparring they’d done over the years and where it usually led them, she could well imagine where his thoughts had gone. In fact, he’d told her once. After the first time they’d made love. He’d asked for a demonstration, and she’d ended up naked and sweaty beneath him.
“Now, there are several things you can do here.” Forcing her mind to focus, she turned back to the women. “There’s the elbow, either in the face, the temple, or the neck.”
She demonstrated as she spoke, drawing her elbow slowly back toward each of his body parts.
“There’s always the old standby, the groin.” This time she reached her left hand back toward the front placket of Jackson’s pants. Despite the protective gear, he still tensed behind her.
“Or the foot stomp.” She demonstrated a few more of the smaller, easier strikes: knee to the body, a palm strike, head butting, and eye gouging. When she finished, she stepped out of Jackson’s embrace and moved aside. “You use what you’ve got and aim for the sensitive areas. Before we leave tonight, I’d like you each to practice with Jackson. I don’t want you to hold back. Those men out there won’t. He’s practiced with me before, so he knows what to expect. Don’t be afraid of hurting him.”
Jackson let out a quiet laugh behind her. “Is this your form of revenge, darlin’?” When she turned to look at him, wickedness glinted in his eyes, one corner of his mouth hitching. He set his stance wide and hunkered down, crooking his fingers at her. “Come on, sweetheart. I know you’re dying to take me to the mat. Now’s your chance.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her smile at bay. Damn the man. He always knew the exact buttons to push. He was right. She used to love taking him down, just to prove she could, and because she used to love where those sessions ended up. He was the only man who’d ever made her feel comfortable with herself.
She shook her head. “You never could take no for an answer.”
She’d learned this when he insisted she go out with him the first time. The man had only her name
to go by and managed to not only find out where she lived but show up on her doorstep wearing a tux and a heart-stopping grin, toting a single pink carnation. She might have turned him away. In fact, she had. More than once. That was stalker material. But he was so damned sexy.
“I have another class after this. I want each of these women to have a chance to practice before we run out of time.”
“Actually.” A fortyish brunette to her left lifted a hand. “I’d like to see you do it. See it in action.”
A murmur of agreement went through the group, each head bobbing in encouragement. Becca’s stomach knotted. In nervousness. In indecision. She’d demonstrated before, usually with one of her brothers. These classes lasted a month, meeting once a week. Unlucky for her, her brothers’ schedules had all been hectic lately. So far, none had been free to help her with this particular group of women, so she hadn’t been able to demonstrate with anyone but her instructor, Mandy. Mandy was a second degree black belt. She’d been working at the dojo since its second year. For these groups, she was too light, too small.
“Give me your best shot, Beck.” Jackson’s eyes glinted at her, taunting her, daring her. A breath later, he took matters into his own hands. He stepped forward, moved around behind her, and snatched her in a bear hug, yanking her so hard against him a surprised squeak left her mouth.
Maybe leftover anger and disappointment had addled her brain. Anger at him for not being what she needed when they were married and at herself for not insisting he meet those needs a whole lot sooner. Maybe all the frustration building over the last couple of weeks had finally gotten to her.
Maybe it was the nervous tension at having him so close. Or maybe even the way her pulse quickened in response to him. Whatever the reason, something inside her answered his challenge.
“Just remember . . .” She lifted her right foot and stomped on his instep.
As expected, he let out a yelp of surprise, his arms slackening around her. In one swift, continuous movement, she seized his wrist in her right hand and jammed her left elbow back into his stomach.
“. . . you asked for it.” Gripping his arm tightly in her hands, she shoved back with her hips and pulled forward on his arm, throwing him over her shoulder.
Jackson landed on the mats with a heavy oomph, spread eagle like a man ready to be drawn and quartered. And didn’t move.
Becca squatted down beside him and grinned. “You all right?”
Eyes closed, chest heaving, Jackson shook his head from side to side and started to laugh.
“Lord, woman, I’d forgotten how strong you really are.” His eyes opened, dancing at her. “You pack one hell of a punch. Remind me never to make you angry.”
Laughter erupted through the group behind her. As he’d expected, no doubt. Becca rolled her eyes. Ever the court jester.
“Are you all right?” Quirking a brow at him, she poked his side with a fingertip, knowing full well the man was every bit as ticklish as his daughter. “Or should I call an ambulance?”
He flinched away from her touch, his eyes narrowing in playful admonishment, and sat up. “I’m fine.”
“Glad to hear it.” She grinned and held out her hand. “Now, back on your feet, Tex. We’re not done with you yet. It’s their turn now.”
For a moment he stared at her, recognition lighting in his eyes at her use of the nickname she’d given him when they dated. She hadn’t called him Tex in years. It was a nickname she’d given him in a teasing moment, poking fun at his accent. What made her say it now, she wasn’t sure, but her heart pounded and her limbs began to tremble.
They hadn’t been this playful together in a long time. Things really were relaxing between them and the knowledge left her caught between knowing she needed to let it and wanting to run in the opposite direction. Some part of her still insisted she shouldn’t allow the closeness between them. Trusting him would only get her heart broken again. The other part wanted to lean down and capture his mouth just to remember the supple feel of his lips. Letting him in meant acknowledging the part of her that still loved him, that still craved him like she craved coffee in the morning.
Funny how desire snuck up on you when you least expected it. He got to her like no man before him ever had.
Jackson broke the intense moment when he gripped her hand and hoisted himself to his feet. Those wicked eyes twinkled at her. “Remember, you owe me for this.”
Her stomach trembled, the husky tone of his voice flooding her body with fire. God help her. She’d never get through giving him a back rub.
***
Several hours later, Becca approached the living room, stopping under the archway to draw a fortifying breath. Her stomach fluttered. They’d finished dinner, and she’d cleaned the kitchen until the countertops sparkled. Allie had gone to bed an hour ago. As of last check, she snored softly, one arm flung over her eyes, little Fred tucked in the crook of the other arm. All of which meant Becca was now alone with Jackson.
Knowing she couldn’t stall any longer, she forced herself to step into the room. He sat on the sofa in the dark, his endless legs stretched out in front of him, concentrating on the computer in his lap. The bright screen illuminated his face, a lock of bangs hanging over his eyes. His tie long gone, his white shirt lay open by three buttons, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from shamelessly caressing the visible skin. Oh how she remembered the supple feel of it beneath her hands, so warm and silky smooth. Her fingers ached to stroke him again, and in a few minutes she’d have to volunteer to do exactly that.
She released a jagged breath, and he glanced up from the computer.
“There you are.” His dazzling smile made her weak in the knees. He set his laptop aside and pushed off the sofa. “I wondered if you’d backed out on me.”
The instant he faced her, stood towering over her, whatever bravado she’d managed to summon before marching in there evaporated. He went silent, the smile fading from his mouth. She couldn’t seem to make her tongue work. Something in his eyes got to her. He stood rigid, his hands at his sides, as if he were every bit as nervous as she was. Seeing his tension, she couldn’t forget the feel of his body against hers only hours before, the huskiness of his voice or the way his warm breath tickled the back of her neck
She stiffened her spine and swallowed her fear. “Well, a deal’s a deal.”
He chuckled. “Don’t sound so excited, darlin’.”
His sexy laughter rocked her to the core, but she squashed the desire settling deep in her belly and stepped forward, lifting her chin to spite him. “Take your shirt off.”
“Come on now. You know you’re going to enjoy this every bit as much as I will.” Never one to miss an opportunity to taunt her, he had the audacity to wink at her.
As if to prove his point, he kept his gaze locked on hers as he began to undo the buttons on his shirt. He plucked them free with a lazy slowness, one button at a time. She found her gaze rooted to his movements, to the infernally slow revelation of each bit of skin. To keep from reaching out and undoing them herself, she bit the inside of her cheek. Was he trying to drive her crazy? Or just make her nervous?
All the buttons undone, he raised a brow, mischief dancing in his eyes, and slid the shirt from his shoulders with the same agonizing slowness. God help her, she luxuriated in every inch of him revealed. His muscular chest, the soft patch of golden curls between his pecs that her fingers ached to slide through, and the delicious width of his shoulders. So much glorious skin.
“I’m all yours.” When his shirt hit the floor behind him, he held his arms out from his sides and grinned. His eyes taunted her, almost daring her to step forward and slip into his embrace. “How do you want me?”
Naked, sweaty, and wrapped around me. That thought flashed through her mind faster than she could stop it, and she bit her bottom lip to stifle a miserable groan. Agreeing to this was a bad idea all aro
und.
Instead, she stiffened her spine and nodded at the floor. “I’d prefer you lying down. It’s easier.”
“I always did prefer you on top.” He winked at her again, his tone light and playful, and so sexy heat simmered like a warm fire in the pit of her stomach.
Damn the man and his ability to get to her. She narrowed her eyes in warning, determined not to press herself against his lean, hard frame.
He chuckled and sank to his haunches, shaking his head as he stretched out on his belly on the floor. “Just once do you think it would kill you to laugh?”
Yeah, it just might. Her anger was her defense against him. Now that she’d let her guard down, everything had come flooding in. Things like a desire so keen she ached. Him half naked in front of her filled her mind with flashes of memories. Of unbuttoning his shirt and pushing the fabric off his shoulders, then moving to his pants. Pressing herself against his naked body and claiming his mouth. Even the simple things caught her. Like lying in his arms after making love until they were both breathless and exhausted.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t find your taunting amusing.” Okay, so that was a flat-out lie. She found humor attractive in a man, and Jackson had it in spades. Only he could bring out the playfulness in her. He got her to go out with him a second time because he’d made her laugh. His comments were so outrageously sexual, so outright flirty, she hadn’t been able to help herself.
Sucking in a deep breath to prepare herself for the contact, she straddled his body and sank onto his backside. The firm, round muscle beneath her drew up a torturous image of her fingers curling into that exact part of him in the middle of an orgasm. . . .
A hot flush traveled up her neck and onto her cheeks, the warm fire in her belly becoming a full-on, bone-melting blaze. Oh, this would never work.
“I’m not taunting you. I’m flirting with you.” He lifted up enough to shoot a frown over his shoulder. “Once upon a time you loved it. You used to respond to it.”