Brawler

by K. S. Adkins

  “Shh,” he says, pulling me toward him. “You and me, I wanna do this right. Told you I got issues, I just don’t want to disappoint you when we, uh …”

  “Make love,” I finish for him.

  “I’m gonna fuck this up, I’m messed up about it,” he says. “Couldn’t get it right with a chick I don’t care about. How am I supposed to make it good for the one I love?”

  “You care enough to worry about it, and you love me. Jonas, that’s enough for me,” I say, speaking truth. “Listen, I do have things I’d like to try, but only if you want to try them, too. Every time you touch me I come alive for you, only ever you. It’s not possible I won’t love it because I love you, and no matter how this, goes it will be perfect because … it’s us. I did some thinking, and the way I came at you before, it wasn’t me. I was doing what I thought you’d want me to, and I screwed up.”

  “Fuck,” he says, running his hands up and down my arms.

  Setting the ice down, I grab his hand and stand us both up, leading us to the stairs. Just as I’m about to take the first step, he lifts me off my feet and carries me up every last one.

  “My Princess did good tonight,” he says, smiling at me. “My Princess loves me. She doesn’t do steps when I’m around.”

  Moving us into his bedroom, he sets me gently on the bed, then walks back over to the door, shuts the light off, then meets me in the darkness.

  Mind set, cock hard, and woman willing, I am going to make this fucking great for her if it kills me. She deserves this, I deserve this, and we damn well deserve this. Once my eyes adjust I notice she’s propped herself up on her elbows, crawling onto the bed, and up to where she opens her legs, wrapping them around me like a welcome home.

  The second my mouth meets hers, she whispers into my mouth “Tell me you love me,” so I do. Kissing her again she whispers “You’re going to make me come, and I’m going to make you come Jonas, say it.” Repeating her words, I feel my confidence and my cock grow.

  Foreplay isn’t my specialty. Fuck, if I even have a specialty. Unless ruining shit is a specialty, then yeah, I’ve got that, but that’s not what this feels like. This feels easy, natural, and right. Neither one of us is in a hurry, and while she’s rubbing my chest, tightening and rubbing her legs over mine, I lean in to open her top, gritting my teeth when I feel buttons. I suck at buttons, but before I can rip the damn things off, she arches up and pulls it up and over her head. I waste no time attaching my mouth to a warm nipple. Once she moans and it’s nice and hard, I move over to the other to give it the same attention. Her nails are gliding up and down my back, and when I suck harder she digs in. I fucking like that.

  Sitting up to remove my own shirt, she beats me to it, pulling it over my head then balling it up and putting it behind her like a pillow. Leaning back down she unbuttons my jeans, freeing my cock, and swear to god, I could cry. No woman has ever done this for me. Kick them off and toss them in a corner, yeah. Undress me? No. Doing the same to her, she moans, kissing my neck and shoulders. Being on top of her is fucking bliss. Things start to speed up when she takes my cock in her hand and massages it. It’s like I’m in a trance watching her. I can’t see much, but I can see the shadow of movement and to know it’s her hand on my cock is almost more than I can take. My body overrides my sense and I start fucking her hand. I can’t do anything else until I shift and take my own hand to start making circles between her legs.

  My woman’s pussy is soaking fucking wet, for me. She works me harder, moaning, biting my lip, and wiggling around, so I follow suit. Being like this is heaven, but my cock not being buried inside of her is hell.

  “Need you inside me, please,” she moans out, and I can’t take it anymore. Kissing her hard then breaking away, I actually take my own cock in hand and prepare to feed it into her. My worries are gone. This is my woman. I follow her cues and she’ll lead me home, I know it and I trust it. I also need to hear her say it.

  “Tell me you want me, Princess,” I growl rubbing, my cock between her wet lips.

  “More than anything,” she says, certain. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

  “Dreamt of this,” I growl. “Dreamt of you.”

  “I’m right here,” she says, pulling my head down to hers. “Take me there, Jonas.”

  “Love you,” I tell her with my heart wide open.

  “Love you too,” she tells me back. “Now show me, Jonas.”

  Out of nowhere the need to dominate her overwhelms me. The urge isn’t to hold her down or any shit like that. It is to make her solely rely on me for everything: to breathe, to exist, to orgasm, fucking everything.

  Whispering into her ear, I tell her, “Thank you.” As I slowly fill her up, the words started falling out of my mouth before I can stop them. I go on for so long, I have no fucking idea to what I am saying, but she is loving it, because she is thrashing underneath me like a wildcat.

  “Harder,” she whispers. “Please don’t hold back on me.”

  “Don’t wanna hurt you,” I grate out, because I do want to thrust harder, but the thought of hurting her prevents me from actually doing it.

  “You can’t hurt me,” she says. “I’m so goddamn wet right now, anything you want Jonas, anythi —”

  That does it. Wrapping her up in a full body hug I slam home, pull out, and slam home again. Holy shit, does that feel good. The harder and faster I go, I swear I feel her tightening around me. I didn’t think it was possible and tell her as much.

  “It’s because I’m close,” she barely gets out. “My body is accommodating yours, my muscles are, are —”

  “Princess,” I tell her. “Don’t need the anatomy lesson. Feels so fucking good when your pussy latches onto my cock like that —” She starts bucking and screaming into a pillow. “Jesus, am I hurting you?”

  “Don’t fucking stop!” she yells out. “I’m coming, fuck me harder, I’m coming. God, I love your dirty mouth, Jonas.”

  Likes my dirty mouth? Game the fuck on! I go at her like a man possessed. I pound into her, she slams up into me, and watching her come forces me to come, and come fucking hard. I can’t stop pounding, even after I’ve blown because she’s still milking me and I want to stay in there as long as possible. Riding out the aftershocks together, she kisses me nonstop until I collapse on top of her. She wraps her arms around me and promptly passes out. Pulling the covers up so she’s warm, I move her hair from her face, kiss her swollen hand, and stare down at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and thank her all over again until I pass out from sheer fucking peace for the first time in my life

  With the team being on a break for Venessa and me, Jonas uses his time alone with me wisely. Turns out he’s very creative. So for the last four weeks or so, when I’m not studying or looking for leads on the girls, he takes me to all the new restaurants and sights in and around the city. Now that my back is healed, he even went to my aerial yoga class with me and tried his hand at the lira once. Mainly he just doesn’t want me out of his sight. Initially I was concerned my study habits would bother him. The way I zone out and get distracted could put him off, but if he’s unhappy, he isn’t showing it. Instead when he sees I’m overdoing it, he takes me out to do something fun. Though fun for me would be having him between my legs, he’s all about getting to know me. He told me he wants to take it slow, do things right and as much as I agree with his strategy, I can’t agree with celibacy, ever. Especially now that I’ve gotten a taste of him. Now his wanting to take it slow is pure torture.

  Venessa and Rogan went up to her cabin for a while, so Jonas and I have been left alone to do whatever we want, whenever we want. Just this morning he sat down at the table with me and asked me to explain what I do in detail. If he was bored or confused, he didn’t show it. In return, I asked him about his job before we all became a team. A team so far that took down Gary Frisk, can’t locate the missing girls, and is on hiatus. A team, I should mention, isn’t off to the greatest start. First Venessa was injured, a
nd now me. They aren’t following up because we can’t be left alone, and because of that, we aren’t making progress. Listening to him talk shop, I found myself getting agitated. Not because of his career choice, but because there are girls missing and they have yet to be found, and the key to finding them is me, except I don’t have the first clue what to do about it. Another thing about me, I like having answers, so not having them is making me a right bitch.

  This afternoon, I’m set to meet with Ben to study. I’ve put him off for too long, which is unlike me, and he’s relentless in getting me back on track. Part of me feels like I should be grateful that he cares enough to push, but the other part just wants to be left alone to get to know Jonas better. When it’s just the two of us, he doesn’t struggle to talk to me, in fact he says what he’s thinking, and any innuendos are made on purpose, not out of nerves. Gathering up my bag, he agreed to drop me at the lab and go to the department, picking me up at seven. He also told me we are going to have pizza and a cartoon marathon when we get home, and I am beyond excited about that.

  Making idle talk, we get to the lab in less than fifteen minutes. Sensing he’s not thrilled about my meeting with Ben, I assure him it’s only for work, and we are only, and always have been, just friends. If it were anyone else having to reassure him would bother me, but with him I understand it’s not a conscious action on his part. If he needs reassurance, I’ll glad give it to him, because he does the same for me. Pulling up to the front entrance, he takes my mouth and silently reminds me of what’s waiting when he comes back to get me. Message received.

  Helping me down, he pulls me to him and whispers he loves me. Whispering back that I love him too, he lets me go and I head in, anxious to get this done so I can put my focus back where it belongs, on us.

  “Macy!” says Ben running, over to take my bag. “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you.” Taking its weight, he hugs me too hard, and it makes me uncomfortable. Noticing my flinch, he asks me if I’m all right, to which I nod, trying not to cry. The cuts are pretty much healed up, so that’s not it. It’s that I’m in love with Jonas, and part of me wants to punch him in the fucking mouth for hugging me in the first place, because I shouldn’t be hugging another guy.

  We take our respective seats, setting up our stations. Ben is rambling on about everything, which is annoying me because I’ve never known him to be such a talker. The longer he talks, the longer it’s going to take to get done. Pulling the vials out and weighing the proteins I need for the day, I glance up and see Ben studying me.

  “Something on your mind, Ben?” I ask him with serious attitude. Jesus, what is wrong with me?

  “I just missed you, Macy,” he says, smiling. “I was worried you quit on me.”

  “I just had some things come up,” I tell him. “How’s your data coming along? Did you get clearance yet?”

  “Hit a wall,” he says. “Maybe you can look at it and see what I’m doing wrong?”

  “I can do that,” I tell him. “Email me what you’ve got and I’ll look it over.”

  “Everything all right, Macy?” he asks again, and I nod. “You’re friend hasn’t been back either, in case you were wondering.”

  “I suspect he hasn’t,” I bite out. “And he wasn’t my friend.”

  “You can talk to me, you know,” he offers. “There was a time you did.”

  “I could do a lot of things, Ben,” I snap. “I didn’t then, and it doesn’t mean I’m going to now.” The look on his face was like I slapped him, but dammit, I don’t want to talk about this with him or anyone.

  “Got it,” he says sadly. “I’ll just get back to work then.”

  “Ben …” I start. “I’m sorry, I just have a lot going on and I’m falling behind.”

  “I get it,” he says, sitting next to me. “You need a break. Macy, let me take you out to dinner.”

  “What?” I ask, alarmed and scooting away.

  “You, me, dinner,” he says smiling. “You know how it works, I’ve gone to that club with you, now come to dinner with me.”

  “I can’t,” I tell him. “I’m seeing someone and it’s serious.”

  Laughing he shakes his head and stands up. Ben rarely laughs; he’s usually a serious guy. Actually I’d argue he had a sense of humor at all. I’ve studied with him for almost two years, had classes with him prior to that. Yes, he’s come to Lush a few times, but he basically begged to go and I didn’t have the heart to say no. What’s bothering me now is that the more I’m comfortable around Jonas, the less comfortable I am around Ben. Reaching for my phone, I shoot Jonas a quick text, letting him know I’m ready and put it back in my pocket. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. Wrapping up my notes, knowing he’ll be here in a few minutes, I start to put my data away. Standing up and shutting my equipment down, I’m about to walk out when Ben decides it’s time to talk.

  “Wasn’t it about two weeks ago I saw you, and you weren’t seeing anyone then, Macy,” he says with irritation. “If you don’t want to go out with me just say so. There’s no need to lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying to you,” I explain. “I met him a little while ago, it moved sort of fast, and we decided to take the next step recently.”

  “How did you meet him, then?” he pushes. “When you aren’t here, you’re with Venessa, so who is he?”

  “That’s not your business,” I tell him firmly.

  “You don’t show to study, you’ve got bruisers showing up here asking questions, and according to the data we log, you’ve made no progress on your research, so being that we’re friends, don’t you think I’m entitled to know what’s going on with you?” He says this to me with an edge I’ve never seen before, and I don’t like it.

  “Considering I help you and ask for nothing in return, you have no need to worry about my research,” I snap. “So you aren’t entitled to anything, Ben. If I needed your help or advice, I’d ask for it, but I don’t, so don’t make this into something it isn’t.”

  “I’ve sat back watching you make mistake after mistake with that guy you dated. You never brought him around, but you brought his handiwork here. You didn’t want my help then, either. I’m not allowed to care about you? The second I take a shot at asking you out, finally you’re seeing someone? I’m supposed to buy that? Who is he, Macy?”

  “It’s none of your fucking business, Ben. I have to —” Turning to leave, my mouth falls open when I see a very pissed off, very sexy Jonas Rafe standing in the doorway.

  “Take the keys, Princess,” he says, putting them in my hand and walking straight to Ben.

  “I’m Rafe,” he says, towering over Ben. “The guy she’s serious with. Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m Ben Freeman,” he starts. “The guy she’s studied with for the last two years.” Turning his look at me, he practically spits fire at me “This guy, Macy? Seriously? The guy you tazed? You really know how to pick them, I’ll give you that.”

  “We gonna have a problem here, Ben? My woman says no, it’s no. You best get that or you find yourself another study partner, feel me?”

  “No problem, Rafe,” he sneers. “No problem at all.”

  Looking around, he narrows his eyes from Jonas to me before walking back to his table. Jonas turns to take my hand when Ben makes an already tense situation worse.

  “Are we still attending the banquet together, or are you going to drop the ball on that too?” he throws at me.

  Looking at Jonas, he nods, giving me the green light to play it my way. I agreed to go with him months ago, long before Jonas, knowing Briggs would never go. The events are boring and stuffy, so we both decided not to make others suffer along with us and go together.

  “I’m still in,” I tell him. “We’ll talk details soon, okay? And another day to study, since today didn’t pan out.”

  Not saying a word he goes back to his studies, effectively dismissing us, and for me, not one fuck was given.

  She wants to train alone with me today.
How do I say no to that? I’m gonna take any chance I have to put my hands all over her, but mostly it’s because she says she’ll give me all she’s got, and I want to see exactly what she’s made of. So instead of hitting Russell, we head to the basement. Since finding her in one, I’m not a fan of her being down here, but it’s where my workout room is, and she insisted, so the basement it is. Not gonna lie, my man cave is pretty badass. Never got around to a flat screen, furniture, or any shit like that, but it has a sick workout room and bathroom I put in a few years ago.

  Since she’s been in my life I haven’t been home long enough to use it, and until I got back down here, I didn’t realize how much I missed it. Detroit basements ain’t like the shit in newer homes. The ceilings ain’t real high, but I moved beams around to make it so I fit. Best part is its all original cinderblock, which means it stays at a good temperature year round. My house ain’t big, but its home, and I got a lot of memories here. She tells me her place was where she was raised, and based on that, I figured she didn’t have good memories there, so my plan is to help her make new memories here, in mine.

  When she floats down the steps and I get a good look at her, I actually forget to breathe. Tight black pants, wife beater, shoes, and a pony tail was all it took to get my dick hard. Rubbing my hand over my face, then my cock, I stood there frozen until she kissed me then started looking around.

  Watching her run her hands over my equipment, touching everything, I make fists to keep from tackling her and fucking her on my basement floor. That ass. I could write stories about that ass. Then I decide since there’s two things I really enjoy, fucking her being one and fighting being the other, that taking her off-guard is the way to go.

  I attack while her back is turned. The second she realizes my intent her body language shifts. The second she breaks my hold and takes a fighter’s stance I see my Princess vacate the premises and see someone else take her place.