Chapter 14
In the morning, he checks in with me again, “You’re sure this is what you want?”
“More than anything.”
“We’re gonna go hard this time.”
“That’s what I want.” My voice is tense, “Give it to me, Jordan. Now!”
We lunge in the same breath, but I still miss. This time, he flips me onto my back before I can even move. But it doesn’t knock the wind out of me this time. He asks, “You good?”
“Yeah,” I grunt. Then, I roll onto my side and stand again. “Could I do something like that to someone your size?”
“Absolutely. It’ll take practice, but the principle is the same for anyone. You use their energy as your leverage. They move, and you use their movement to get them where you want them.”
“So, it’s like dancing?”
His brow furrows, “How so?”
“Moves, countermoves, but to a beat.”
He smiles and says, “I have an idea.” Then he sets up some dance music on his phone. “I think this might help.”
“But if I’m fighting with someone, I doubt there’ll be music playing.”
He laughs. “You never know. Come on.”
We scrap for a while longer, before I’m wiped out. I feel like one big bruise. I’m happy to see he seems winded, too. I even get him to flip once. I stretch my neck and ask, “How was that?”
“You’re learning fast. I’m impressed.”
“I think the music helps. It gets my head in the game.” I sway to the beat. “It’s a lot like dancing, but the moves aren’t choreographed.”
“I like the way you move,” he says. His eyes are on my hips, then he comes around and holds me from behind. I reach behind and hold onto the belt loops at his sides. This way, he moves with me.
“You can move like that, too, see?”
He chuckles, then growls, “I’ve never seen anyone move like you, Stella.” His fingers tickle as they slip into the waistband of my yoga pants.
“You’re doing it right now.” I giggle from the tickles.
Then, Jordan spins me around to face him. “You are the most graceful woman I have ever known. Even when you fall on your back, it’s like watching a cat.”
“They land on their feet. In fact, they’re kinda famous for it.” I take his hands, placing one on the small of my back, and holding the other. Then, I catch his eyes and sway. “Like this.”
“I told you, I’m not a dancer.”
“Everyone is a dancer, Jordan. Just step left, right. Follow me.”
He’s on beat for a minute, but then he loses it. “It’s just not how my body moves, Stella. My feet have an arrhythmia.”
I smile, then I wrap my arms around his neck, and he does the same just above my ass. “I know you have rhythm, Jordan.” My voice deepens to keep his attention. “I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it.”
His hands cradle my ass and pull me tight to him. He’s hard against my hip. “I could show you my rhythm again.”
“You could, but then we wouldn’t be practicing.”
“You don’t need any practice for that.” He leans down and kisses me. “You’re an expert.”
“Now, now, Sir.” I smirk up at him. “We were being serious for a minute there.”
“And I’ve run all out of serious.”
“Then, we should dance, because I’m tired of feeling like the only one here who is learning something.”
He laughs, then rolls his eyes. “I guess that’s fair. What do you want to teach me?”
“Well, given our height difference, I think…” I switch his music to Benny Goodman and say, “we should swing.”
He chuckles, “I’ve always been curious about the lifestyle.”
I smack his shoulder and gasp, “Jordan, you dirty boy! Now, come here.”
I take him into a simple pose, and we begin. He’s as clumsy on his feet as I am terrible at judo, but we muddle through. He does, however, enjoy swinging me around. “Okay, I admit it, this is kind of fun.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“It’s sort of like fighting, but to a beat. I get you close to me...” He takes me in his arms and my heart pounds in my chest. He quietly says, “With dancing, I get to touch you. So, whatever it takes to get you here in my arms. If that’s dancing, so be it.”
I smile up at him, because he’s being sweet. But I can’t stop thinking about everything that’s happened. Blood and glass spring to mind. Then, Kowalski’s face. “Maybe we should get back to the judo.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t feel safe yet.”
He brushes the hair from my face and pins it behind my ear. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“Jordan,” I am firm when I say his name and that gets his attention, “Do you think I’m ready to face down an attacker?”
He sighs. “Not unless you are very, very lucky.”
“Then, we practice.” I look down at his bulge. “So, put that way.”
He adjusts himself for a second. “Got it. I was thinking about it earlier, you should know how to use a knife.”
“Why a knife?”
“Guns are great, but they work better as a threat than as an actual weapon a lot of the time. They have a very limited range of efficacy.”
I frown. “How do you mean?”
“The only part that works is wherever the bullet lands, and that’s only if it lands successfully.”
I slowly nod and say my thought out loud, “Which is why they work better as a threat.”
“Exactly. And when the first assailant charged in here, if you had a gun, it could have been useful, but only if you got yours out first. Then, when he had you pinned at the sink, a gun wouldn’t have done you any good.
A knife, on the other hand, would have been very useful.
Plus, it’s easier to keep a knife in your pocket at all times, instead of a gun. ”
“I don’t know about that, the broken plate worked pretty good.” I think about it, then nod. “Okay, I get it. But if there was something I could forget about my life so far in Floyd, it’d be how it felt to cut that man.”
He shrugs, “Better that feeling, than the other way around.”
“Good point. How do we practice for that?”
“Wooden spoons and nudity.”
“What?” I laugh.
“Oh, and some ketchup for fake blood.”
He lays out some towels onto the blankets we had used for padding for the hand—to—hand. We paint wooden spoons with ketchup on one side of it, then strip down. “This is one of the strangest ways a man has gotten me naked.”
He laughs. “Well, I didn’t think you’d want ketchup all over your clothes, and I know I don’t want mine messed up like that. So, when you have a knife, you might feel like you have the advantage. But you don’t.”
“Then why learn how to use one?”
Jordan asks, “Simply having a knife does not give you the advantage. You have to know how to use it. Pretend the wooden spoon is a single-sided knife. The ketchup is the sharp side, the clean side is the dull side. Hold the spoon end in your hand, that’s the handle.
Then put the clean side against your forearm, like this, so the ketchup side is out and facing me.
Your strongest attack…” we practice for a long time before we’re both covered in ketchup.
“God help anyone who attacks you when you have a knife.”
I laugh. “You think?”
“Yeah, you’re a natural.” He smiles and takes me in his arms. The ketchup scent is heavy in the air and our naked bodies are slick and sticky with it. My skin prickles with his heat. He asks, “Think maybe we could shower all this off?”
I ask, “Together?”
“Mm, hmm.”
“A steamy shower sounds perfect. Let’s go.
” I take his hand and lead him upstairs to my shower.
I kick it to the hottest setting, then wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.
We’re in front of the large bathroom mirror, red—streaked limbs entwined in every direction.
“We should get in the water, don’t you think? ”
“Come on.” Jordan pulls the curtain open, and we step into the hot water. I move under the showerhead and the sensation makes me relax. His hands glide over my skin everywhere, except my tits and between my legs.
“Trying to drive me crazy again?”
He kisses my shoulder then asks, “Is it working?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Good. Turn around, hands on the wall.”
“We need protection for that,” I tell him.
“For my fingers?”
“Oh.” I turn and face the showerhead wall. The water pours down my back, as I place my palms flat onto the tile. Then I can smell my shampoo. “What are you doing?”
“You have beautiful hair, Stella. I would think you’re familiar with the process,” he teases me. Then, Jordan slowly washes my hair.
His fingers run carefully through the long curls.
I am aching to possess him inside me again.
He rinses the suds from me. I keep getting shivers from it all.
His tender touches make me long for him.
Gentle kisses on my shoulders and neck are followed by little bites, and I’m wetter from more than the shower.
His right hand trails from my ribs to my hip, then around to the front of me.
My head tips back against his chest. “Jordan, that feels so good.”
“Does it now?” His fingers run circles on my clit.
“Yes,” I gasp. My knees are weak, but I know he’d never let me fall.
Jordan’s fingers press into me. “What about now?”
“Oh my god,” I pant, while he fingers me. His hard cock slides against the wet skin on my low back. He makes a little humping motion there. “Jordan, I need you inside me.”
“Not yet,” he murmurs.
“What? Why?”
“Protection, remember?”
I lean out of the shower, then grab a condom from the towel shelf. My hopes for shower sex have been answered. I pass it to him with a desperate, “Here!”
He quickly rips it open, then gets it onto himself. Washing my hair must have gotten the ketchup off him, because I don’t see any more of it on his skin. Then, Jordan opens the shower curtain and says, “Hold still.”
I do, and he grabs my hips, then swings me over the edge of the tub onto the floor. It’s a move from his dancing lesson, and the cheeky bastard winks at me before he demands, “Turn around, hands on the counter.”
I have to bend over slightly to do it.
Jordan reaches between my thighs and feels that I’m ready for him.
He grabs my hips, lines himself up, and thrusts hard into me.
I grunt, he moans. Then he grabs my wet hair into a fist and pulls it tight.
I watch in the steamy mirror, while he pushes himself into me again and again.
His expression becomes something animal.
Steaming lust in his eyes. He growls, “You like watching what I do to you?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
Jordan drops my hair, reaches around, and plays with my clit again. My body shakes as the tension in my body releases. I’m floating in my wet skin. I hang onto the sink’s edge, needing something firm to hold. Anything to keep me grounded in the world. He snarls, “I’m gonna make you come.”
“Yes!” I clutch at the counter.
He leans onto my body, his wet chest grinds against my skin on each thrust. It stokes the fire in my veins. Every cell in my body is ready to erupt. I gasp for breath, but nothing enters my lungs. His voice is right by my ear when he commands, “Come for me, Stella.”
My pussy tightens and throbs on his big cock, while he pounds into me harder.
There is no scream for it. I have no breath.
The weight of his body pushes the air out of me.
The counter eats my hip bones on each push, and the pain makes the orgasm violent.
Deliciously wet pleasure boils in my core, while Jordan continues on his own path inside me.
He snaps, “Fuck yes!”
“Now.” I pant.
Jordan gasps, then roars, “YES!” He comes and his hips force him tighter into me. He kisses my back again and again, then murmurs, “Can you stand?”
“I dunno,” I pant.
He pulls out, with one hand on the condom and the other on my back to stop me from falling. “Ready to try?”
“Sure.” Not my most graceful moment, but I manage. “Think I need another shower.”
He laughs, “Sounds like a plan.”