Chapter 18 #2
Sitting in silence, Aimee tried to clear her mind, tried to recapture the peace she’d been chasing before his arrival, but her eyes kept drifting toward the silver-haired stranger.
Who is he? The question burned in her mind with a sudden, inexplicable need to know more about him.
She should leave. She knew it. Getting caught up with a random, unknown shinobi wouldn’t help her in whatever Mission the Pattern had set for her. Besides, she was supposed to be playing a sixteen-year-old, for crying out loud, and he was clearly a full-grown man.
Nodding to herself, Aimee looked up to the sky, where the moon hung like a coin of silver, and moved to stand.
“Leaving?” the stranger asked, though he hadn’t moved from his relaxed position. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”
Aimee scrambled the rest of the way to her feet. “No, no. I’ve been out too long already and have an important day tomorrow. Just needed to clear my head.”
“I understand that.”
“Oh?” she asked, waiting for more. When no further explanation came, she shrugged. Time to go, I guess.
But as she took a step to leave, his voice stopped her.
“Do you often come here to find stillness?”
“No,” she paused. “I’m not usually the quiet meditation or ‘stillness’ kind of woman, but I guess it’s been one of those days.”
“And what kind of woman are you, then?” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm, his elbow braced casually on one knee.
Is he…flirting?
“One that’s better with motion. A few hard hits, a steady rhythm—” She cocked her hip, thinking. Who is this asshole, anyway? And why is he looking at me like that? Then, before she could stop herself, she added, “Would you like a demonstration?”
The suddenness of her words seemed to startle him, and his elbow slipped from his knee, sending him pitching forward until he caught himself with both hands. All the grace he’d shown before vanished in an instant, replaced by a look of embarrassment.
“My apologies, miss. I didn’t mean anything by it.
I was just…curious about what you do to prepare for a challenge, if not this,” he stammered as he crawled to his feet, brushing dirt from the dark linen of his pants.
“I am also searching for some presence of mind and not finding the quiet very helpful.”
“Oh?” she asked again, raising an eyebrow.
“Tomorrow. I’ve got a new assignment.” He tucked away the book he’d been reading. “It’s a…responsibility that I don’t feel ready for,” he admitted. “But I have to be ready. It’s too important, and failing is not an option.”
She nodded. That sentiment was all too familiar, something she felt every time she had to start again.
“Umm…well, I get that.” She cracked her knuckles. “Though fighting has always helped more than sitting still. At least for me. That wasn’t a joke. Something to burn off the…” Pain clawing at your soul? “anxiety.”
“And are you asking me to volunteer?” He asked, watching her. “To let a small, untrained woman have a go at me?”
“What? No! And I’m neither small nor untrained, you twat,” she exclaimed, laughing along with him. “Just sharing what works for me. You asked, after all.”
“Fair enough.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re a shinobi, then?”
“Huh?” She absentmindedly reached for her headband, only to remember she had taken it off at some point during the night. The damn thing always made her itch. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“From what Haven? You’re not from here.”
“Depends on who you ask,” she said with a shrug. “Though I seem to be here now.” All true, if unnecessarily vague.
Why the games, Aimee? she asked herself before realizing she was having fun talking to this guy.
“Uh-huh.” The glint of amusement in his visible eye was impossible to miss. “Well, at this point, I’m willing to try anything. If you’d like to take a crack at me, I’ll allow it.”
Aimee crossed her arms, giving him a slow, assessing look. “Seriously?”
The uniform didn’t reveal much of what he might look like beneath it, and the mask made him even more of a mystery.
“I am at your disposal,” he said with a sweeping bow, one arm crossing his chest while the other stretched out dramatically, his head dipping low.
“Deal.” She nodded, letting her body fall into the same casual grace he exhibited. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
His brow lifted for a split second, surprise flashing there, maybe recognition of the same potential she’d seen in him. But before he could react further, she was on him.
Aimee sprang forward, her foot barely grazing the ground as she launched a quick jab toward his ribs.
The man moved just in time, his arm coming up to block with a sharp smack of skin against skin.
Their hands met, muscles tensing as they locked briefly, testing strength.
She pivoted, shifting her weight onto her back leg, and swung her other arm in a clean arc toward his shoulder.
He ducked, rolling his body out of range, his feet moving into a balanced stance.
He's fast! She thought with a wild smile, permitting more of her own speed to seep through.
He countered with a low sweep toward her legs, the faint rustle of cloth the only warning.
Aimee leaped, just clearing the arc of his leg, her foot hitting the ground lightly before she spun back around.
Without hesitation, she struck out with a palm aimed at his torso.
He caught it with both hands, but the impact sent him sliding back a few inches, his shoes scraping against the rocky surface.
Pausing, she could feel the steady thrumming of his heart beneath her hand.
“You’re good.” His voice was calm, and she could see the outline of a wolfish grin beneath the mask.
Then, the rhythm changed. He lunged first this time, a quick series of precise strikes aimed at her torso and face.
Aimee deflected the first blow with her forearm, grunting as she met his next attack with a sharp block.
Her arms moved rapidly, blocking, dodging, and absorbing the force behind his ever-quickening attacks.
She retaliated with a fast front kick aimed at his midsection, but he twisted away, his body flowing out of reach as if anticipating the move.
Aimee followed with a second, faster kick, her leg sweeping low at his ankles.
He leapt, air hissing through his teeth as he touched down light as shadow, immediately driving a fist toward her shoulder.
Ducking, she rolled beneath him and sprang back up with a powerful sidekick.
His forearm shot up just in time to block, but the sheer force of her strike sent him sprawling to the ground.
Lying on his back, coughing and laughing, he stared at her in disbelief. “Great Elements, woman! That was a kick!”
Aimee grinned, not hesitating for a second as she leaped forward to land between his knees and raised her leg high for an ax-like kick. At the last moment, though, she pulled back the power, and her heel came down with controlled precision, landing firmly on his stomach.
“I tried to warn you.”
But before she could step back, he twisted, turning his legs around in a quick spin, his shin catching her ankles.
She stumbled, arms flailing as she lost her footing, and before she knew it, she had toppled into his lap, her body crashing down onto him as they both collapsed into a tangle of limbs.
Aimee’s breath came in shallow bursts, her body humming with adrenaline. She felt the warmth of his body beneath her, the solid press of his chest rising and falling under her hands.
“What Haven did you say you were from, again?” He whispered as his hands slid up her back.
Her skin tingled where his fingers grazed her beneath the fabric of her loose training shirt.
“I didn’t,” she murmured, shifting her weight and settling deeper into his lap.
That’s when she felt it, hard and thick beneath the deceptively simple material of his uniform. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one turned on by a good fight.
A jolt of heat shot through her in response.
She should’ve pulled back—should’ve said something to defuse the moment—instead, her body moved faster than her thoughts, the need curling low in her belly louder than reason.
She leaned in, each inch narrowing the distance between them. “But if you remain tense…there are other ways to clear the mind.”
Her words dropped like a challenge, and his entire body locked beneath her.
Strain rippled across him, taut and electrified.
Then: “And you, mysterious woman…” His voice was controlled, but something darker laced the edges now, rich and warm. “Are you still tense?”
Her hands traced upward, fingers exploring the ridges of muscle beneath his tunic.
Heat radiated off him in waves, each contour sharper than the last, sculpted and solid beneath her touch.
When she reached the edge of his mask, she hesitated, letting her nails drag just lightly enough to draw a shiver.
Her mouth hovered near his. “What if I said yes?”
Aimee’s pulse thundered.
In answer, his hands moved, settling firmly around the swell of her ass as his fingers sank into her flesh, dragging her against him.
Then came the sound—a low, guttural growl, deep in his throat, vibrating through her as much as it echoed in the space between them.
His hips lifted, grinding into her with the hard shape of his cock, dragging against the aching seam between her thighs.
Heat licked up her spine, spreading outward in pulses, and a broken sound escaped her lips before she could swallow it down.
Gods, she was already close. Too close.
What am I doing? Aimee wondered, watching herself from the edge of bliss as she boldly slid her fingers beneath the mask.
He didn’t stop her, but his posture shifted, just enough to feel it. A subtle pause in the steady rhythm of breath between them.
Her fingers froze.
She knew better. He wouldn’t wear a mask without reason. Peeling it away now to reveal his face felt like stepping across a line she had no right to cross.