Sparring Partners

by Leigh Morgan

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  "I'm taking you to the kitchen. You obviously haven't eaten if you're thinking about hot chocolate when it's close to eighty degrees outside"

  "Put me down." Finn said, disgruntled. "The kitchen is five steps away. I could walk if I wanted. I don't want hot chocolate. I'm beginning to wonder if I even like it at all."

  Henry stopped, but he didn't put her down, he simply held her tighter when she tried to force her legs to the ground. The effort didn't look like it was costing him much either, and for some reason that irritated her as much as it turned those same legs into silly putty warming in his hands. Vacillating between irritation and attraction, Finn settled on irritation.

  She was about to set into him when she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. They were more smoke than mist now, but even in the dim light she could read his need clearly. He wanted her. She'd been wanted plenty, she knew the signs, even so, something in Henry's eyes was different. Or maybe it was her own insides turning to goo that was different and she was simply projecting, but Finn didn't think so. She was dampening all over, from the fragile baby hair on the back of her neck and the crevice between her breasts all the way to her silk panties that clung to her now blood filled lips below her well trimmed mons.

  "If you don't want hot chocolate what do you want?"

  "I want you to stay."

  "You're going to have to be clearer than that, Finn. There will be no misunderstandings between us, ever. Tonight was the first and last time you will accuse me of lying to you." The warmth in his voice vanished, leaving it tempered and cool like a newly sharpened blade, hard, clean, and piercingly efficient.

  "Tell me what you want."

  Something about the intensity in his eyes and the way he held her told Finn it wouldn't be easy to let this man go once she let him in. He wasn't the artistic type she favored, ready to share moments together and then simply part with a smile and a 'thank you'. His currents ran deeper, and navigation with or without a paddle had never been one of her strengths.

  "I want you to stay. I want to see you naked. I want to take you deep inside me and hold you there until we both burst. And then, I want to hold you while I sleep."

  "And tomorrow?"

  Finn smiled coyly up at him. "Before or after we shower?"

  He squeezed her. Even when she batted her eyes at him playfully he didn't smile.

  "After we're dressed. What then?"

  "No regrets, Henry. Clothes or no clothes. I don't do regret."

  A look of disappointment flashed across Henry's face followed by narrow-eyed determination. He led her to the bed without a word and didn't try to kiss her when he set her on her feet beside it. Henry didn't say a word as he slowly undressed. It wasn't a strip tease, in fact nothing about his efficiency spoke of the playful sex games Finn had made an art of over the years. Those were fun. Frivolous. And about as sustainable as cotton candy on a hot day at the fair.

  This was something else entirely. Something vital and base in its carnality.

  The air in the room changed from maybe to certain without so much as a kiss. Henry disrobed, placing each piece of folded clothing on the chair beside the bed. His shoes went under the chair, and after checking the safety, he placed his gun under her pillow. He didn't make a show of it, all of his movements were efficient, unhurried and without pretense. Whether he intended to or not, Henry was telegraphing loud and clear that it wasn't a painter she was taking to her bed.

  When he finished he didn't try to undress her, he simply stood for a moment letting her get used to his size before pulling back the light summer quilt and worn cotton sheets and climbing in. Henry didn't bother covering himself as he settled on his side, one arm cocked, hand behind his ear, holding his head.

  It didn't take her long to slip out of her halter dress and sandals. The thin strip of silk she put on this morning to feel empowered now left her feeling silly, although the dampness she felt earlier hadn't lessened. Neither had her need to straddle this man and ride him until she was too exhausted to take the lead.

  She slid into the bed beside him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Henry shifted, giving Finn access to the bed. Queen size was plenty big enough for Finn when she was alone, which was almost always, but seemed incredibly small at this moment. Before her lay Henry, naked, naughty, larger than Schwarzenegger on steroids and twice as menacing.

  Finn wanted to wrap herself around his tree-trunk thighs and sink onto not-so-little Henry with a need that forced the breath from her lungs in short, quick, painful breaths.

  Henry kept his strength in check, she hadn't seen him use it as a weapon but she knew by the way he moved that if he did, the recipient wouldn't be going anywhere without a gurney. She wasn't afraid. Not of him. Not now. Not ever. Henry moved her alright, but he didn't scare her, not physically.

  Finn slid into the small space he made for her. His arms came around her and he whispered in her ear as he pulled her flush to his steaming skin. "I was wondering how long you were going to stand there looking hotter than Pamela Anderson could. That's not enough for me. I'm too old to shoot my load just looking. I need to touch..." His warm breath on her ear caused an involuntary shiver. Henry laughed low and rich, a purely satisfied male sound. "...and taste...and smell all of you."

  Finn rolled over straddling him. It left her open. Vulnerable. Yet powerful in a purely feminine way. Reaching over to the table next to the bed she opened the drawer and pulled out two condoms. She placed one between her front teeth and set the other under her pillow.

  "Is that wishful thinking?" Henry said jerking his head toward her pillow.

  Finn took the foil wrapper from her lips and opened it with her teeth. Throwing the wrapper across the room she took the condom and fitted it over his thick erection with a grace that bespoke familiarity with the process. It barely fit. His penis had a slight bend to it she found fascinating. It bobbed at her when she blew on its tip.

  "There's nothing wishful about this bad boy. Wistful. Wondrous. Whopper. Certainly." Finn licked her lips and raised her eyes from little bad boy to big bad boy. "That part of you takes wish to done deal."

  The sides of Henry's eyes crinkled but he didn't offer a smile, he growled instead and rolled her under him. His biceps bulged as he held himself just far enough away from her to allow her to breathe and feel safely surrounded at the same time. She thought he'd plunge into her. She expected it. Wanted it. And was mildly disappointed when he gently brushed her hair from her brow looking deeply, seriously into her eyes.

  "This isn't a game for me. I won't be your toy, Finn. You won't be able to put me away when we're done here no matter how many condoms we go through." He bent closer and bit her earlobe before softly blowing to make it better. "Although I may let you play with me whenever the mood strikes you. As long as it strikes you often."

  He didn't give Finn a chance to respond. He kissed her instead. Slowly. Thoroughly. And with more depth of emotion than she could remember feeling. He was making her toes sweat and he just kept kissing her as if they didn't have to ever leave her bed.

  He touched every part of her until every nerve ending sang at a pitch so high even Reed's deerhounds couldn't hear it. Only when she started to shake did Henry wrap his hand around his pulsing penis and guide it into her. She was so ready even his enormous size didn't hurt. Instead she consumed him, hugging him with her wet walls, drawing his heat as deeply into her as she could take. He pulsed and the fullness of him stretched her to that luscious spot just short of pain.

  And then he rocked her, sinking even deeper. Finn's world exploded in bursts of light and the sweet sound of champagne corks on the Forth of July.

  "Oh. My. God."

  Henry rocked again and grunted in the way men do when they empty their heart and souls into another, if only for a moment.

  He rested his forehead on hers before rolling away. Henry disappeared into her small
bathroom. When he came back to her bed he pulled her to him without a word and held her spoon fashion with his hand over her heart.

  In that moment right before sleep Finn realized Henry gave her exactly what she told him she wanted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Saturday morning meant weapons training.

  Reed set her alarm to go off at six-thirty so she could pack her gi bag and weapons – it took three trips to load them all into the car – and still have enough time to eat, shower and get Jesse ready too. This morning, however, she awoke with a tree trunk across her chest pinning her to the bed.

  She'd almost convinced herself that she dreamt the orgasms that populated her in and out of her sleep. The wine helped with that, but the snoring man attached to the tree trunk debunked that idea. If only debunking him was as easy as crushing her illusions of a dream lover who vanished with the alarm.

  She tried shaking him. Nothing.

  She kicked him. He groaned irritably and threw one leg over both of hers. Now she could barely move. So she did what any self-respecting ninja woman would do under the circumstances.

  She bit him.

  "Ouch." He roared like a lion with a thorn, bolting upright, rubbing his arm as he glared sleepily at her. "Why did you do that?"

  Reed shrugged. "It was the most efficient way to get you off me."

  "You could have asked."

  "You're right. I could have asked. But then I would have had to be able to drag enough air into my lungs to speak. Your arm cutting off my breathing kinda precluded that."

  "You could have given me a nudge or something." He grumbled.

  "I shook you and when that didn't work I kicked you." Reed cocked her head at him wondering just how awful her breath smelled this morning. She hadn't brushed her teeth last night. She hoped they weren't stained purple from the wine, but they probably were. Great. This kind of thing is exactly why she didn't do sleepovers.

  "You're a grouch in the morning."

  "You'd be grouchy too if I bit you."

  Reed looked down at her chest. She had a hickey right above her left areola. She hadn't had a hickey in close to two decades. The man was old enough to know better. So she thought, with shake of her head, was she. At least she had been from fifteen until last night.

  "Looks like the bite you gave me is going to last a lot longer than the one I gave you."

  Now that she wasn't pinned to the bed Reed jumped out and made her way to her closet. On her way she grabbed his shirt and threw it on. The posterior view of her wasn't one she wanted advertised in the full light of day. The morning after isn't always as good as one might hope from the night before. Still, Reed could feel Jordon's gaze following her, burning through the thin layer of cotton at her back. Maybe he didn't get the memo about curvy bottoms being out of style.

  Reed pulled her weapons bag from her closet and began filling it. Two sets of sai, a pair of kama, two sets of tonfa and her wrist wrap made their way into her bag. Her bo at six feet long couldn't fit into her weapons bag so Reed leaned it against the wall and glanced over her shoulder at the digital display on her alarm clock: 6:40.

  Time to go.

  "If you're riding with me you'd better get a move on. Black-belt class is at eight. Weapons at nine." Reed made her way to the bathroom, longing to brush her teeth and shower. Her disloyal body wanted that too, only it wanted tall, dark and handsome washing her back. Maybe her front too.

  "There's room for two, Mr. Bennett. Come dance in the raindrops with me."

  ...

  Come dance in the raindrops with me.

  Reed wasn't likely to give him that invitation after she found out about William's requirements for keeping his job at B.H. It was just a matter of time until she did, especially now that his mother and William decided to insert themselves in his life.

  Jordon sat up and ran both hands through his hair. He wanted to wield some weapons, preferably against a photo of William, almost as much as he wanted Reed's arms around him, pulling him close as he sank into her.

  He could live without pounding an image of William until his frustration and anger at the arbitrariness of William's rules subsided. He wasn't sure he wanted to live without dancing in the rain drops with Reed at least once.

  Jordon got out of bed and headed toward the sound of warm man-made rain. It was time to dance. He'd worry about arming himself later.

  The sound of paving trucks made later impossible.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Finn met Reed at the bottom of the stairs with steaming herbal tea in an over sized mug Jesse gave Reed for Mother's Day. A giant squished bug on one side and jagged letters on the other philosophizing, Sometimes you're the windshield; sometimes you're the bug.

  It was looking like a bug kind of day.

  "What's going on?" Reed asked taking the tea, wishing she'd never let Finn talk her into giving up coffee. Caffeine, good. Rooibos, not quite the same kick.

  Finn raised her eyebrows and her shoulders. "Apparently we're getting a new driveway and wheelchair ramps."

  "I thought we were broke."

  "We are."

  "Then why are we doing this now? I thought the bank was hounding you for cash since the appraisal came in at less than what we owe."

  "They are. And 'we' aren't doing anything."

  Reed set her tea down on the hallway table. It was Charlie's table from some manor house in England where Shakespeare supposedly wrote something, probably a grocery list. She grabbed a coaster from the drawer and placed it under the teacup. The table was hideous, but Charlie loved it. She wasn't going to be the one who made rings on the wood. Charlie would have her polishing it for a year.

  "So what's going on?"

  "You asked, and daddy-war-bucks is making it happen." Finn looked at her watch. "Less than twelve hours and Cinderella's pumpkin is already turning into a gilded carriage."

  "You're mad at me? What did I do?"

  Finn seemed to crack and she got that worried look in her eyes, like she did when she was sure Reed had just stepped in major doo-doo that wasn't likely to wash off without leaving remnants of its stink on Reed's skin. But it wasn't until Finn enveloped her in a cinnamon scented hug that she truly began to worry. She repeated her question.

  "What did I do, Finn? Please. Tell me."

  Finn pulled back, tears dampening her clear blue eyes. "It's bad, baby-girl." She said, still holding Reed's shoulders, making Reed feel small and vulnerable.

  "You married a billionaire."

  Reed just stared at her aunt, wondering what was really going on that had Finn so worried.

  Finn gave Reed a shake. "Not just any billionaire, you married William Bennett's nephew, heir apparent to B.H. Holdings." Finn shook her again, this time jarring Reed's teeth. "Arguably the second richest man in the world."

  Reed's heart skipped a beat. Sweat began to pool in her still damp hair. Little stars of light appeared in her peripheral vision and the air in her lungs whooshed out. Her trachea seemed to lock and she couldn't get any air in. This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

  "This is a disaster."

  Reed didn't respond. She couldn't speak. Her line of sight was fading as the stars made their way inward. And then she caught sight of Jordon on the stairs. The grim lines on his face and his cold steel gaze let her know he'd heard most of what Finn told her. She'd never seen him look so empty. So menacing. So heartless.

  Finn shook her again and the stars receded. Air came pouring into her lungs, punishing like a tidal wave on the soft sand of her chest. Reed pulled away and straightened to her full height. A five-foot-three tower of power.

  "Say something." Finn implored.

  Jordon's jaw clenched, Reed could hear his teeth grinding and see his hands turning white where they gripped the railing. She ignored him and slowly bent to retrieve her weapons bag. The bag with her gi, pads and wrist guard was already in the car. She couldn't even look up the stairs. Not when she could still smell him on her skin. Reed doubted
any amount of showering was going to wash him from her pores. Even if she could purge his scent, it wouldn't help erase Jordon from her. Not when she could still taste him.

  Her gaze flashed to Finn. She willed her eyes to soften but it did no good. They were already frozen. Heaven help her when they thawed. She'd felt that pain before.

  Bewitchment.

  Betrayal.

  Brutality ravishing her soul. A soul she thought so estranged from her heart that it was untouchable.

  Thank the Gods she was still numb. She looked away and her eyes landed on her mug. The squished bug stared lifelessly at her, its last expression one of empathy for a kindred soul. Reed laughed once. A hollow, biting sound that left her empty and hurt the back of her throat.

  Reed turned, not trusting herself to make eye contact with either of them. There was only one place she could go when life's karmic chaos threatened to overwhelm her.

  "I'm going to the dojo. I'm late for weapons. I won't be home tonight."

  Reed had no idea what she was going to do after class, she only knew her home, her refuge, had been invaded by a lying pirate who gained some perverse enjoyment by turning her life inside out.

  Been there. Done that. Still have the hole in my heart.

  Reed made it all the way to the car before she felt the dampness burning like rivers of acid down her cheeks. Angrily brushing the trail of tears from her face, she put her bug in gear. There were concrete trucks and graders everywhere. One moved where she wanted to be and Reed flipped him off. She hadn't done that since she was Jesse's age. Embarrassed and angry at her juvenile response, she yanked on the steering wheel and accelerated at a more moderate speed around the truck. She ignored the brief flash of satisfaction at the sight in her rearview mirror of gravel splashing up the side of the truck.

  Sometimes the joy from small victories made all the difference.