Sparring Partners

by Leigh Morgan

  "You wanna talk trash girl, you better be able to back it up. You're looking a little peaked today. What were you up to last night?"

  Reed ignored the question. She didn't want to think about last night or why her body was sore in places that hadn't received that kind of prolonged, intimate, attention in years. That was why she was here early, sweating like a pig, sparring with him. After an hour with Shay, and an hour of class, she ought to be able to actually get some sleep when she went home. Alone. That thought had her smashing her padded fists together as she danced and dived around Shay.

  "I'm not the one dusting off my gi pants big guy." She said, dodging an upper cut to her jaw. It came a little too close for comfort so Reed growled at him.

  "It's a good thing it's self defense class tonight. I don't think sparring is helping soothe your savage soul." Shay feigned left and landed a right shuto strike, other styles of karate call it a chop, to the side of her neck. It was a good clean shot and he exercised it with perfect control. Reed barely felt it. The concern in his eyes as she allowed herself to be hit let Reed know she wasn't hiding her emotions well enough.

  "You want to talk about it?" He asked.

  "Not really. I'd rather beat something."

  "Probably a good idea, since you aren't blocking worth a shit."

  Reed didn't bother to deny it. She was off tonight, and Shay was too good a partner not to call her on it.

  Shay stopped and took off his hand pads. His head gear followed. Neither of them had bothered with foot pads, since it was just the two of them, and class hadn't started yet. Reed spat out her mouth guard and took off the rest of her gear too. Shay was right. Sparring wasn't soothing anything for her tonight, least of all her soul.

  "Have a crack at Bob." Shay said looking at the clock on the wall. "You've got a few minutes before Sensei takes the floor. Sometimes it helps to beat the crap out of someone who can't fight back."

  "Good plan. Will you pull him out for me?"

  "With pleasure. Better Bob the brainless manikin than me."

  Reed smiled. As soon as Shay stopped asking her out, they'd become good friends. There wasn't much she wouldn't talk to him about, with the small exception of last night. Not even Shay, who made love-em-and-leave-em a fine art, would understand.

  "You're a good guy Shannon O'Shay. Your mother would be proud of her fine little Irish-man." Reed tried for the lilt Mrs. O'Shay's son was famous for when he poured on the charm, but she couldn't come close.

  Shay grinned at her as he struggled to move Bob, the water filled 'torso only' manikin students use as a target, away from the dojo wall. When Bob was hit he had a tendency to bounce back, and Sensei didn't like it when the dojo walls were damaged.

  Shay struggled with Bob the brainless who was taller and heavier than Shay, until he got it far enough away from the mirrored walls that Reed couldn't hurt anything when she whacked the hell out of him.

  Shay patted Bob's rubbery, but surprisingly life-like cheek and said, "Go easy on him, Red. Poor guy can't hit back. And watch who you're calling 'little' or you'll be the one dusting off your skinny derriere in that child's sized gi." He narrowed his eyes at her giving Reed his best Drill Sargent voice.

  "Now get to work."

  "Yes sir." Reed snapped off a salute and smacked Bob in the middle of his armless torso, hitting his lifeless solar plexus so hard the recoil smacked her hand when she didn't retrieve it fast enough.

  It was a good start.

  She followed with a series of strikes to Bob's temples, both sides of his neck and collar bones. Had Bob been alive, he'd be singing with the angels by now, or at least on a respirator waiting for that bright light to take him away.

  Reed didn't bother with her feet. Bob ended just below the belly button and Reed preferred to kick lower than that. Instead of using her feet she threw another series of strikes with her hands, wrists and elbows until she was so winded Bob barely recoiled any longer. Then, just for fun, she threw a spinning crescent kick to Bob's temple. It was a stretch for her, but the satisfying smack it made had Reed smiling.

  The sleigh bells on the front door rang with people coming in for class. The sound registered in Reed's brain, but she ignored it. No one bothered anyone else when they were working on Bob. It was one of many unwritten dojo rules of etiquette.

  With what was left of her adrenalin Reed threw a punishing upper-cut elbow combination to Bob's jaw, bouncing him back with a thump that rocked the dojo floor. Since Bob weighed twice what Reed did plus twenty pounds, she was pleased with herself. She could almost put last night out of her mind. But almost didn't cut it with hand-grenades, horse shoes or soul touching men who swept a woman off her feet and landed her in the middle of Sin City.

  "Wouldn't you rather have your hands all over me?"

  Reed spun around, still panting with exertion, and there he stood, in the octagon shaped entrance framed by afternoon sunlight, like some dark haired Norse god preparing to pillage and plunder.

  Reed stood winded and spent, sweat stinging her eyes as it ran freely from every pore, watching him as his eyes lit with something like possession. He wasn't even trying to hide his intention as his gaze ran the length of her before settling on her face. How dare he show up here looking like ten tons of trouble and good enough to eat?

  This was her sacred place, her refuge from the world. Who the hell did he think he was invading the inner most recesses of her universe? This was a place of serious training, a space she shared with her dojo-mates. It wasn't a place for wannabe-viking-marauders bent on destruction. As of yesterday, he wasn't a member of the dojo, and as for the mate part, well, she preferred not to dwell on that.

  He took a step forward, out of the light, and Reed could see him more clearly. She took her time assessing every detail. He must have found time for a nap because he didn't look anywhere near as tired as she felt.

  Bastard.

  He wore his hair loose again and it gleamed with red flashes in the setting sun. Stubble dotted his chin and lower jaw giving him a piratical appearance that did nothing to detract from his physical beauty. His tight t-shirt showed the definition of his muscular shoulders and chest that she knew from experience was remarkably hairless. Not so with his lower abdomen, where a line of dark silky hair ran into a closely cropped patch of hair that led to...

  Shay leaned over and hissed in her ear, "Stop staring at that guy's crotch. It's embarrassing. Want me to take him out for you?"

  Reed's eyes shot to Jordon's. He wasn't smiling, then again neither was she. His jaw was tense and his left hand was clenched at his side. His right held a duffle bag that was well worn and bulging with gear, just like his jeans. If Reed didn't know any better she'd think he was just a regular guy on his way to work-out.

  Yeah, right.

  Reed broke eye contact and turned to grab the pads she discarded after sparring with Shay. She left the dojo floor without a word, making her way to the locker room in the basement. She didn't look back.

  ...

  "Can I help you?"

  The words were polite enough. The thread of menace in the smaller man's voice wasn't. Jordon didn't bother to look at the man until Reed disappeared down the stairs. He didn't miss the way Reed smiled at the guy, or the easy way she touched this joker before she started beating the crap out of the man-shaped target.

  The instant anger that seeped into his core, like molten lava, when the man leaned in and whispered in Reed's ear surprised Jordon with its intensity. He wasn't generally prone to strong emotion of any kind, so he was at a loss as to how to productively channel the rage running hot and cold through him. He was more than ready for class, the burning urge to bury his fists into flesh ran so hot it had him fisting his empty hand where it hung at his side.

  Once he could no longer hear Reed on the stair Jordon focused his attention downward, into the man's cold blue eyes.

  "You can show me where to change." Jordon said, more of a challenge than a request.

  "You'r
e a new student?" Dissatisfaction, irritation and belligerent arrogance wrapped up in another seemingly polite question from this man Reed was so comfortable with.

  Good.

  Jordon smiled, brandishing his teeth like a weapon. He enjoyed and excelled at this kind of polite warfare. His eyes narrowed for a second on his opponent, but the smile on Jordon's face never wavered. He was looking forward to taking more than a few swings in this man's direction. Verbal and otherwise.

  "As of noon today. I met with Sensei Schwartz and signed all the paperwork." Jordon widened his smile. "After he called Sensei Nakazato in Japan, where I've trained on and off over the past five or six years." Jordon didn't usually get off on dropping names, but this time it was pure joy to watch the reaction. He had trained for years with Sensei Nakazato in Japan, the current head of the world karate system this dojo practiced. This dojo and training under Sensei Schwartz were the primary reasons Jordon didn't balk more at setting up an office in Milwaukee. He needed to train, and this dojo was the best place to do that outside of Japan.

  "Follow me." The man said, in begrudging respect to Nakazato Sensei's name. "I'll show you the locker rooms."

  Jordon said nothing as the man turned abruptly, following the same path Reed had taken moments before. With any luck, he'd be able to pull her damp body to his, kiss her into a heated frenzy of elf demand, followed by submission, like he had last night.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Submission wasn't in Reed's current vocabulary. It might have been last night, but that was then and this was now. There was no room for submission on the dojo floor. Not for Reed. Not today. Not with this man invading her world, her second family, her spiritual center that kept her sane. Here she fought and trained and never gave up. She didn't accept him here, she wasn't sure she accepted him at all. Although one look at Jordon and she knew she still wanted him.

  Reed railed against the thought. Want him or not, she didn't like having Jordon Bennett invade her karate school any more than she liked waking up in Las Vegas knowing full well what she did the night before was her choice. She couldn't blame Jordon for her actions, but that wouldn't stop her from beating him out the dojo door.

  "Line up." Sensei said, taking the floor. "Bow to me." He turned and faced the Okinawan and American flags mounted side by side between full length mirrors in the middle of the wall. "Bow to the flags."

  Reed took comfort in this ritual. It was how every class began and ended and it gave her a chance to center her mind, while she willed her rapidly beating heart to slow. It wasn't the exertion of earlier making her heart beat too fast, it was Jordon, tall, dark and ready to eat. At least he had the good sense to line up to her right. Sensei had obviously met Jordon before class, because he ushered him into position, two people down from her to the right. Students always lined up according to rank, highest to lowest, left to right.

  Reed smiled to herself as she stretched in preparation for class. At least Jordon knew where he stood here, literally two ranks under her. Actually, he could be one rank under her fourth degree black belt, had he received his most recent promotion after Mike, the man positioned between them. Mike was a big man. Tall and broad shouldered, a fireman by trade, but he didn't cast a shadow over Jordon, who looked way too sure of himself in his faded black gi. His black belt was worn and faded as well. Not a good sign as far as Reed was concerned. It meant he was no amateur. No one got to be a second or third degree black belt in their system of karate by accident and she doubted Jordon was the exception to that rule. He seemed more than capable at everything he did, including flying a jet.

  "Attention." The highest ranking black-belt on the floor yelled and everyone lined up, again according to rank, as their teacher, Sensei Schwartz, took the floor again. Now things were going to get interesting.

  "Make two lines. Front line turn around and face the person behind you. Bow in to each other." Sensei said, pulling one of the black-belts from the center up to demonstrate the first move. It happened to be Mike.

  Sensei nodded to Mike. "He punches in. Middle punch. I want you to step to the side, fan block and do a front kick to the floating ribs. Target your kicks. I don't want to see any sliding garbage. Hit with the ball of the foot, penetrate in. Simple and clean. Work with intensity. Let's move."

  It was a basic series of moves, one they'd all executed hundreds of times, even the white belts were familiar with it. The goal was to do each move perfectly, maintaining control through every step, and ending in a position to respond again. Reed didn't think about the moves, she just did them, hard and fast.

  With each rotation to a new partner Sensei added a move until they got to a take-down that, if done with full force, would completely disable the attacking person.

  "Rotate. Bow in. Kick it up a notch, people. No one's going to give you time to respond on the street. Make it real. Feel it."

  The class shifted position and Reed found herself face to chest with Jordon.

  ...

  "I need to talk to you."

  "No."

  "You can't ignore me forever elf."

  "Don't call me that." Reed hissed under her breath. "What are you doing here anyway?"

  "I'd think that would be obvious."

  "You're not here to work out. You could fly anywhere to do that."

  "I could. But this is my home now, Reed. This is where my family is." Jordon said while watching Sensei Schwartz execute the final leg sweep, stomp kick to the face combination, landing the kick less than an inch from Mike's face as he completed the demonstration.

  Mike had the good sense to remain perfectly still until Sensei retrieved his kick. Jordon had trained with some of the best martial artists in the world for more than a decade and a half. Sensei Schwartz was as good as any, and better than most, including the best he'd trained with in Japan. Jordon would have been lucky to train with him under any circumstances. Having Reed here was a fortuitous bonus, one he fully intended to use to his advantage.

  "So, go away. You don't belong here." Reed fired the words at him.

  "Less talk and more work, Mohr. Get your skinny rear in gear, kid." Sensei said, not quietly enough, apparently.

  Jordon watched pink flow to Reed's cheeks. "Yes Sensei." She said bowing formally to Sensei before she turned back to glare at him. Jordon would have laughed if they were anywhere else and if what happened next between them weren't so important. She really was cute all steamed up and ready to pounce. As lower rank, it was his job to attack first.

  "I'm not going anywhere, elf. Get used to it." Jordon said quietly, before he punched in, hard. If she wanted to tag him, he was going to make her work for it.

  Jordon was on his back staring up at Reed's small foot before his brain registered that she'd moved. Apparently it didn't pay to piss off little people. At least not red-headed, pixie faced ones with Irish tempers who knew karate.

  He'd have gotten up, but her foot resting millimeters from his neck kept him sprawled on the floor.

  "Let him up, Mohr." Sensei said.

  She didn't move, she just stood above him, eyes narrowed, jaw tight as she told him without words at this moment she held the power of life over him. She didn't know how right she was.

  "Now."

  Sensei had spoken. Even so, she took her sweet time withdrawing her kick an inch at a time.

  "Bow to one another. Line up." Sensei said, signally the end of class.

  Reed bowed formally to Jordon and trotted to the front of the dojo before he could tell her the movers would arrive at her house in the morning. He was moving in with her, it was a strategic decision, batter her defenses, surround her on her ground. He'd meant it when he told her he wasn't going anywhere. Not until William confirmed him as head of B.H. Holdings, probably not even then.

  Sensei dismissed the class. Jordon tried to catch Reed's arm, but she scooted around him and was half way down the stairs before he made it off the dojo floor. He followed the rest of the men to the locker room, showered, and was puttin
g on his socks when the man Reed had been joking with before class held his hand out to him, introducing himself.

  Apparently now that they'd worked out together all was well between them. Jordon had forgotten just how much he missed being part of a dojo. It made the difference between controlling the chaos of life and allowing it to control you. Belonging mattered. Belonging here was a gift he didn't take lightly.

  "Shannon O'Shay." He said, shaking Jordon's hand firmly. "But everyone calls me Shay."

  "Jordon Bennett." Jordon responded, none of his earlier ire present in his manner or tone.

  Sensei was still in the locker room watching quietly as the rest of the men introduced themselves. When the last of the handshakes were complete, Sensei spoke, drawing everyone's attention.

  "Mohr is usually the one smiling and laughing in class. I have to get on her every class about it. Not today though. What exactly did you do to piss her off?" Sensei's tone was nonchalant, his stance was not.

  Suddenly all eyes were on him. Jordon wasn't sure where to start with this group of protective men. Honesty in situations like this had saved his bacon more than once, so he decided to be open and honest. Jordon thought for a second, before settling on one the thing he'd done that pissed his little elf off the most.

  "I married her."

  Complete silence and twelve pair of incredulous eyes met his. Jordon sighed and waited for one of them, or any of them, to respond. No one said a word. Mouths dropped open and closed again. A few of the men looked like they might say something, but no one did. Seconds ticked by audibly on the clock at the far end of the otherwise silent locker room.

  Then Sensei laughed, breaking the silence in the room and easing the tension in Jordon's shoulders. Before he knew it Jordon was the recipient of more back slapping than he could count, but not from Shay who shot him an unreadable look before turning away. Sensei was still chuckling and shaking his head when he pounded Jordon's shoulder.