Yanna

My shoulder was so stiff I couldn’t move it when I woke up. I still got up right away though, because Hawk wasn’t beside me and I wanted him to be. But he wasn’t in the kitchen either. All I found was a note that he’ll be back soon and to wait for him.

I’ve been waiting. For four hours. He hasn’t texted. Hasn’t replied to any of mine. My inbox was overflowing with congratulations on yesterday’s fight and pleas for an update on the tournament. So I edited three videos and uploaded one while I waited. I also made one about falling in love and what that is like, asking for some feedback on it the way I never do. But I didn’t upload that one. Hawk might see it, and I’d prefer to keep what we have just between us for now. Vlad knows there’s something strong between us, and he’s not pleased. But he’ll come around. If Hawk ever comes back, that is.

It’s not like me to wait on anyone like this, and I have half a mind to call Vlad to come pick me up so I can do some leg training like he wants me to, by the time a key rattles in the lock.

“Good, you’re awake,” Hawk says grinning at me as he enters the kitchen.

It’s impossible to stay mad at him when he looks at me with those clear blue sky eyes and smiles at me like this. And it’s impossible to not want to kiss him.

“You kept me waiting a long time,” I say anyway, as I get up to meet him by the door.

He takes hold of my good arm and pulls me the rest of the way, wraps me in a loose embrace with his hands grasped behind my back. The air between us is entirely our own when he holds me like this, creating a little pocket of space just for us in this huge world, and his bright eyes have a lot to do with it. I’ve never felt as connected to anyone in my life as I do to him, and his eyes, the way they see me, the way I see myself in them, have a lot to do with that too. Or maybe it’s his kisses. Because as soon as he leans in and plants his lips on mine, I no longer feel any pain, or worry, or sadness, or anything that isn’t good and pure and total bliss.

I extricate myself from his arms, earning a questioning look as he stops kissing me. To which I just smile and start pulling him to the stairs.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” he asks, smirking at me, the brightness in his eyes practically blinding.

“We’ll rest together,” I tell him, but I plan for us to get tired first, and I think he knows that.

He’s out of his jacket and shirtless in about half a second once we reach the side of my bed, but I wince as pain shoots through my shoulder when he tries to remove my hoodie.

“You better do that yourself today,” he says and grins at me, unbuckling his pants without breaking eye contact.

I wait for him to strip all the way before removing my clothes, unable to actually move, and I’m not sure if it’s his eyes or his perfect body coming into view that are responsible for my paralysis. But the end result is that he’s naked and I still have all my clothes on.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says and gets on the bed, leaning against the headboard and stacking the pillows behind his back like he’s getting ready for a show. Which he expects me to give him. I know I’m blushing at the thought, since my cheeks couldn’t possibly be this hot without color rising in them.

“I don’t know how to strip,” I tell him and it’s the truth. I prefer to disrobe in a quick flurry of motion that’s all about passion or necessity, and not sensual seduction. I don’t know the first thing about being sensual.

He gives me a questioning sort of look that’s also full of a soft devotion, like what you might feel for a pet or something. Not a thing I’m used to seeing in the eyes of other people, except maybe my grandma’s, or possibly my old neighbor Olya’s from time to time. Definitely not in the eyes of any of the men I’ve dated.

“You’ll do just fine,” he tells me, and I think that means I can’t mess it up no matter what I do.

So I just smile, forget everything but how good his eyes on me feel, how wanted and desired and needed his gaze makes me feel, and pull off my hoodie. I let it fall to the floor as I reach for the zipper holding the front of my sports bra closed. But I remember just in time that you’re supposed to do these things slow. I’ve seen enough movies to know that.

So instead of freeing my breasts right away, I peel down my jogging pants instead. I have no choice but to do it slowly, since they’re so tight and I’m forced to do it one handed since every movement of my right arm hurts. The softness in his eyes starts turning into something sharp, into pure lust, burning so hot that the heat in my own body reaches unbearable pitch by the time I’m standing before him in just my sports bra and panties.

I actually gasp from the fresh invasion of heat as I unzip my bra, letting my breasts bounce as they pop free unassisted. He’s breathing hard too. Now all that’s left are my panties. I wore the good ones, the lacy ones of which I only have two pairs that I never wear. I planned this moment since I woke up this morning. No, I didn’t just plan it. I knew this moment would come. Exactly like this. I knew it.

His gaze is pure blue flame licking my naked skin, warming me even as it makes me tremble, and no little tiny dot of me, inside or out, remains untouched by it. Or unburned.

“You better get over here,” he tells me, his voice sharp yet deep and velvety at the same time.

I walk over and kneel beside him on the bed, bend down and kiss him, running my hand up and down his taut, rippled stomach, and his hard bulging arms. He’s cradling my face, caressing my breasts and playing with my nipples, tenderly touching my arms and stroking my back and neck.

I want him to grab me and make me his, bury me under all that glorious weight of his muscles and enter me, make me submit, break through the stone walls I’ve built around myself and inside myself until I was stone. Stone that feels nothing, because more suffering is not something I can bear. I can’t even bear to remember it, let alone risk feeling it again. But when I’m with him, I want to feel every single thing.

He’s not grabbing me though, he’s just caressing me, the passion and desire burning hot like a bonfire between us. But it’s not consuming us and that’s not right. So I kiss him harder, faster, trying to make those flames engulf us the way they did the first night we made love. That night, the flames were hot enough to melt stone. Today they’re just licking it, only warming it, and it’s not enough.

I need to get closer, so I straddle him then kiss him even harder while rubbing my wet pussy over his pulsing hard cock. His fingers dig into the flesh of my butt, which is hard and muscled, yet still somehow molds to his fingers like something soft and bendy. Good, now he’ll take over. Now he’ll fuck me the way I need it. Fast and wild. Because that way shatters the stone.

But he doesn’t. He just keeps caressing me like I’m some precious, delicate doll and not a ruthless fighter.

I stop the kiss, my lips pulsing painfully from the ferocity of it and look at him questioningly.

“It’s all you today, Yanna,” he tells me, smiling widely. “Your coach will kill me if I make your shoulder worse and frankly, I might. So take the reins.”

I just look at him, marveling at how well he reads me, how much he cares. The men I’ve been with didn’t care, and I’m sure none of them would be able to contain their passion this way. And he has so much passion for me it’s engulfing me in flames that make it hard to breathe right now. There’s no denying it.

He smacks my ass stingingly, yanking me out of my paralysis as all that flashed through my brain. “Go on, get on it.”

His eyes are hard with lust again, cutting, breaking through the seems in the stone walls inside me and letting the flames and light through. I need us joined. I need us to be one right now and that’s all I know.

I gasp and wince as I take too much of his cock too fast, but the next moment the flood of molten white heat his presence inside me brings, washes away all pain, all discomfort, leaves only pleasure and the unbreakable promise of absolute bliss just beyond it.

I start to work my hips up and down, back to front, in a circle, his cock hitting all the right spots inside me, because I’m in control now and I know what I like. Before long, I’ve stoked the flames so high that white hot lava boils and bubbles inside me. As each of those bubbles bursts, it crates sparks and drops that become bubbles again, bigger, softer, hotter, promising pleasure like I never even imagined feeling.

He’s groaning and breathing hard, and I’m moaning and sighing, caressing my own breasts and nipples, touching all my soft parts, feeling them like I’ve never done before. He takes over, making me whimper as he twists my nipples, moan as his rough hands slide over my delicate neck.

My hands are now free to explore his skin, his softness, and the warmth beneath his hardness. I love the feel of his stubbly cheeks and how at odds they are with the perfect velvety softness of his lips, which are still wet from our kisses. The softness of his neck belies the coiled, thick tendons underneath the thin skin and his muscles barely bend under my fingers as I feel every inch of his chest and arms I can reach.

He grabs my waist suddenly and bucks up, giving me more of his cock and making me scream out as he hits that invisible wall inside me that I want him to break. My scream was from pure pleasure not pain and he knows it, does it again and again, faster and faster, giving me more of his cock each time, knocking down that wall so well, and so perfectly I forget how to breathe, forget everything, but the need for that wall to be gone. I throw my head back, grab his forearms for stability as I arch my back to offer myself to him.

The wall inside me is rubble, quickly melting in the pools of white hot lava of pleasure his cock is creating inside me. It’s flowing, overflowing, filling my blood and making it flame—flame hot enough to melt even the hardest stone, the one around my heart. And it’s gotta be my imagination, but I hear stone breaking, crashing, breathe and taste the dust as it all burns away in the heat. Everything inside me is bubbling now, the pleasure and bliss sending heat and light into every last dark nook of my heart and my soul.

He buries his cock deep inside me, holding me in place as jet after jet of his semen fills me, hot as the rest of what we’ve shared, yet this is a different heat, it’s the heat of life. He’s breathing hard and so am I, but I lean down and kiss him anyway. We don’t need to breathe separately, we can breathe for each other, and I need us joined in every way right now. My long hair forms a curtain around us, as I get lost in the kiss transporting us to a place that’s only our own—a lush empty plain covered with grass and wildflowers of all colors and shapes, kept safe by distant rolling hills and filled with the light of the sun, which shines just for us here.

We share that kiss for a long time, until his soft cock slips out of me and beyond, until I don’t know my own name anymore, nor where I actually am.

But I do know where I am, and it’s exactly where I want to be. I’m with him.

* * *

Shrill beeping wakes me. It’s not any of my alarms or ringtones, but it’s definitely an alarm. I don’t remember falling asleep, but here I am waking up in Hawk’s arms, the sky outside dark purple, and the bed warm and comfortable. He groans and moves around some, but I have to call his name a few times before he actually opens his eyes. They’re not as bright right now, kinda like the sky at dawn, before the world is fully awake yet, but there’s still plenty of light in them, and depth and beauty, enough to make me forget that a really shrill beeping is still going off in the room.

“Oh, shit, that’s mine,” he says, making the bed shake as he gets up abruptly to go in search of his phone. He first checks his jeans by the bed and then finds it in the pocket of his jacket, which he discarded all the way at the door. I love watching his muscles coiling as he bends over, everything working in unison to make it happen.

“What was the alarm for?” I ask, hoping it’s nothing that will prevent him from joining me back under the covers. His cock is only half hard, but I want it inside me again, and for that I need him next to me naked.

“I set us up for a dinner date tonight,” he says, grinning at me. “With a friend of mine. It’ll be a double date.”

I glance at the darkness gathering outside. “And you set an alarm for that?”

He tosses his phone onto the jacket that’s still on the floor then comes back to bed, making the mattress wobble and waking the pain in my shoulder, which isn’t as cutting as it was this morning. Nothing cuts when he’s around. Even my shoulder is healing so much faster than it would if it weren’t for his kisses and his caresses, and his naked closeness, I’m sure of that.

He grins even more mischievously. “I figured we’d oversleep if I hadn’t.”

“Man, you had all this planned, didn’t you?” I say and I mean just today, but maybe I’m more right than I know, maybe he planned this whole thing from the start, judging by the sudden sharpness in his eyes, which is lust and passion, but also danger.

“I had my dreams,” he says and smiles again, and the danger in his eyes is so shrouded in softness now it’s barely there.

“Yeah, me too,” I say whimsically. I used to have dreams of love too, but I forgot every one of them until he kissed me that first time and made me remember.

He’s looking at me thoughtfully, following my gaze, which is once again fixed on the gathering evening shadows outside.

“I don’t mean that in a stalker kinda way,” he says. “I liked the look of you and I enjoyed your videos, but I didn’t jack off to them or anything. I’m not a psycho like that.”

I look at him and smile, my eyes taking awhile to focus on him completely after staring into the distance before. But that’s alright. I see him very clearly anyway. I’d see him very clearly with my eyes closed.

“Well, I never saw you before that night you came to my dressing room, but that doesn’t make you any less of a dream come true,” I say, not really sure where the words are coming from, because I never speak like that to anyone. But then again, I never had cause to either.

He gives me that arrogant smile of his, his eyes growing brighter and brighter even as the world outside loses its light. “I’m a dream come true for you? Well, that’s nice to hear.”

“No need to poke fun at me,” I say and punch him in the arm, which I meant to be easy and playful, but I punch hard, that’s who I am.

He winces and rubs his arm, but a split second later he’s smiling at me again. “You have this very endearing way of saying exactly what’s on your mind and being brutally honest about it, don’t you?”

I nod and smile too. “I guess.”

But I do hold back too. I hold back a lot and I’m doing it now. He makes me feel better than the best dream, just by being around, just by looking at me, and I want him to know that, but it’s too soon to say it. It’d be too brutally honest and I’m not ready. I don’t think either of us is ready.

“What time’s dinner?” I ask.

“Ten,” he says. “And it’s eight now.”

I smile wider and wrap my arms around his neck. “We still have some time then. Good.”

“Brutally honest,” he mutters and chuckles, but then he kisses me right after, preventing me from replying, soon making me forget how to speak even if I wanted to.

I’d rather spend the whole evening kissing and making love then falling asleep in his arms, only to do it all over again in the morning. But I also haven’t been on a date in almost two years and this is Vegas.