Chapter 10 - Fisher

I sit across from Liz at the kitchen table on a lazy Saturday afternoon, watching as she”s lost in thought, staring at the blank computer screen in front of her. She”s been fidgety the past few days, and I”m not sure if it”s because of her ongoing training or if there”s something else bothering her.

After a few minutes of silence, she looks up and shakes her head. ”I”m not finding much in the job market. None of these postings are jumping out at me. Did you happen to ask Ram about that waitressing job? I”m eager to not be dead weight, you know.”

”I did, but unfortunately, the position has been filled. All the positions at the Wolf”s Den, actually,” I explain.

She chews on that bottom lip, a habit I”ve come to recognize when she”s deep in thought. It”s adorable, and it kills me not to be able to kiss her or be as close to her as I”d like. We”re husband and wife, and even though I occasionally think I”ve seen a glimmer of interest in her eyes, when it comes down to it, we”re practically strangers.

”That”s a shame,” she grumbles, her shoulders slumping.

”But good news—I didn”t come back empty-handed. There”s a position at the animal shelter,” I offer. ”No experience necessary. They”re short-staffed and have been for the past year, I”m told.”

Liz”s eyes light up, and my heart soars at the mere sight of her smile. ”The animal shelter? Really? That”s perfect! I love animals.” She breathes the words out in rapid succession, clearly excited. ”Thank you, Fisher.”

”I didn”t realize that,” I admit. ”It”s good to know. I”m sure Leah would love to have you on board.”

”Wait, Leah works there? That”s even better.”

”You two seem to be getting close,” I observe, though I try not to let on how happy that makes me. My sister will look after her, and right now, I”ll take all the extra eyes I can get. If anything happened to Liz while I was at work, I”d never be able to forgive myself.

”She”s a sweetheart. We”ve been chatting a lot about everything, just getting to know each other. She”s made me feel really welcome.”

A warmth spreads across my chest, and I”m not sure if it”s gratitude or pride. Regardless, I”m glad my family has taken a liking to Liz, and more importantly, the feeling seems to be mutual. But if there”s one thing I”ve learned about Liz, it”s that if I point that out, she”s going to go back into her shell. So instead, I opt to change the subject.

“Come on,” I say. “Now that that”s been settled, it”s time for our training session.”

As usual, the pair of us head outside and take our stances. Though most of our sessions start off with caution and inhibitions, that seldom lasts. Our pattern is always the same: it begins with a simple exercise meant to tire the body, which typically results in a fair amount of teasing. After we stop for a break, we spend the second portion of the training session doing hand-to-hand combat, which inevitably devolves into a challenge, which always ends with both of us exhausted. She”s improving, though, and that”s the point.

But right now, at the very beginning of our session, I have something different planned. I”m not taking it easy on her today.

”Ready?” I ask.

Liz nods, holding her arms up in front of her in a defensive stance. She”s getting better with the kicks and punches, but she has a long way to go.

I start off slow, circling her as she holds her position. As I move, I can”t help but notice the curves of her body. She”s wearing a pair of tight-fitting spandex pants and a tank top, revealing the outline of her generous breasts. My eyes linger on her hips, and my blood begins to boil as the urge to touch her overtakes me.

”Come on,” I say. ”Keep up.”

I lunge forward, hoping to catch her off-guard, but she anticipates my movements and jumps back, narrowly avoiding the attack. We dance around each other, throwing jabs and kicks. She lands a kick to my thigh, but I shake it off, focusing on my movements instead. I don”t let her score any more hits as we move through a series of positions.

I observe Liz”s form closely, noting the slight imbalance in her stance. Her left leg is slightly forward and to the side. I walk up behind her, taking a moment to admire the way the tight fabric clings to her ass. As I reach for her left leg, Liz moves, twisting away and quickly moving back to a defensive position.

”You need to keep your feet even,” I tell her. ”Let me show you.”

With a gentle touch, I adjust her footing, guiding her hips into alignment. She responds with a nod of gratitude, and I take my place in front of her again. Our sparring intensifies, the rhythm of our movements accelerating with each exchange. I can feel the heat of Liz”s breath on my skin as she launches into a series of rapid strikes. I counter with precision, blocking each hit.

Throughout the lesson, I look for reasons to touch to her, find excuses to brush up against her body, revel in the feel of her. My fingers linger on her hips when I adjust her position. My arms graze the soft skin of her stomach as I correct her form. She responds with a hesitant smile and blushes, though she doesn”t pull away from my touch. And every time she initiates physical contact, I feel like I can fly.

She”s becoming more fluid, less inhibited. Her movements are limber and graceful as she weaves her way around me, following my lead. When we break, I catch a hint of a smile on her face. I”m about to comment on it when I feel her leg sweep beneath me, taking me down. I hit the grass with a thud, the air forced out of my lungs in a whoosh.

She grins down at me, looking triumphant, but before she can jump on top of me, I grab her legs and yank her to the ground, flip her over, then pin her with my weight. She struggles, but I”m able to keep her immobile, my weight holding her in place. ”Do you yield?” I tease.

”Not yet,” she hisses.

I laugh at her stubbornness, though I don”t release my hold. The truth is, I like this. It”s the most playful we”ve been, and I”m surprised to find that it makes my heart ache in a good way. But then Liz goes still, and for a fleeting moment, our eyes lock. I can feel the rapid thud of Liz”s heartbeat beneath my fingertips, mirroring the frantic rhythm of my own. And then, unable to resist any longer, I lean down and capture her lips in a desperate kiss.

It”s a reckless act, born out of passion and desire that have been building for weeks now. My lips crash into hers, and she melts into my touch as she gives herself over to the kiss. Her mouth parts, and I explore the warmth of her mouth as her tongue teases mine. Her fingers tangle in my hair as I pull her close, pressing her into my body. I can”t get enough of the taste of her, of the sweet sounds she makes as I kiss her breathless.

She is everything I imagined and more. Her lips are soft and warm and more inviting than anything I”ve ever known. My body aches for hers as she threads her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer still. Her teeth nip at my lip, and my cock swells with want, desperate for the feel of her body against it.

As she deepens the kiss, our tongues dance together, moving in a slow rhythm that sets my body on fire. And when she moans, the sound is music to my ears, driving me wild. I”ve fantasized about this moment, about the way it would feel to hold her in my arms, to explore every inch of her skin. My hands roam down her body, running over her firm breasts as they travel lower, stopping just shy of her waist.

She writhes against me, pressing her hips against my erection, and I can”t help the moan that escapes my throat. Her hand snakes under the hem of my shirt, exploring my chest. I grind against her, desperate for more contact. Every inch of my body is on fire, and all I can think about is getting her naked and beneath me.

I pull back, and we stare at each other for a moment. The air is thick with tension, and my body buzzes with the need for more. She licks her lips, and the desire in her eyes is so raw that it sends shivers down my spine. I can feel the heat radiating off her body, and the air around us is thick with the scent of lust and need. I can”t resist her any longer.

But then her eyes widen, and she breaks away. She pulls back, and I see the uncertainty in her eyes, the fear. And then, before I can stop her, she”s pushing me off, shoving me away with all her strength. She bolts to her feet, and as she takes a step back, her face goes pale. I start to move toward her, but she stops me.

”No. This doesn”t change anything,” she tells me. ”This never happened. I don”t know why I... I can”t...” She shakes her head, swallowing hard as her eyes search the ground for an answer.

The rejection stings more than I care to admit. I knew she wasn”t interested in me, knew we were practically strangers, but it still hits me hard. I guess I hoped that maybe, just maybe, she”d feel what I do.

”Fine,” I say, not bothering to hide the hurt in my tone.

”I”m sorry,” she mumbles. ”I shouldn”t have...”

”We can call it a day,” I say quickly, cutting her off. The last thing I need is her apologizing for what just happened. She”s been through enough. I don”t want her to feel pressured, no matter how much she”s wounded my pride. If we keep training, I don”t trust myself to keep my hands to myself.

Liz looks like she wants to say more, but chooses not to as she stalks off toward the house without another word. I watch her go, knowing I should say something, anything. But my mind”s racing, and my emotions are a mess. Part of me wants to go after her and finish what I started, but the more rational part is screaming at me to leave her be. So, I let her go, though my heart aches with every step she takes.