Fighting and Loving Ch. 02

Thank you to everyone who read, enjoyed, and commented on the first chapter. I hope this continuation will meet with your expectations. Sorry about this taking so long, had a lot to do this past week. But, the next one should be out much sooner. As before, please keep on sending in any comments or suggestions.

Des sat in his Jeep outside Nic's small townhouse. His fingers drummed along the steering wheel, a nervous habit he thought he had eliminated some years ago. Consulting his wristwatch he discovered he had been sitting here in the dark, undecided on how to proceed, for exactly ten minutes. It hadn't seemed like that much time had passed since he pulled up to the address he had found in the school's student information files. But then, he could hardly remember the drive from the dojo to her street, he had been so deep inside his own thoughts.

Des glanced into his passenger seat. There, barely revealed by the light from the streetlamp just behind his car, sat the reason why he had decided to pay Nic Desmond a visit. Her cell phone rested benignly in the seat, though its very presence seemed to mock the difficulty he was having in making his way to her door. His gaze returned to the view of the street seen through the windshield.Come on Radel! Get off your ass and just give her back the damn phone. She's just a woman.

Des laughed quietly at the pathetic nature of the situation. He had known for weeks now that he thought of Nic as more than just another woman. The problem was he still didn't know how she had managed to set herself so firmly in his mind. She had not done or said anything different than what would typically pass between a student and teacher. If anything, she had been standoffish and distant. She hardly spoke to him inside or outside of class. And, she was about the only single woman in the school who had not propositioned him to join her for dinner, a movie, or a friendly fuck. Their relationship was strictly business. And yet, Nic still managed to bounce around Des' thoughts with frustrating ease, a condition which had grown from the first time they had met.

Upon entering the large practice room some three months ago, Des had only been interested in seeing how advanced the students were. Calling order to the men and women milling about the floor, he had set about introducing himself and quickly flowed into the preliminaries of starting class. Going through the warm-ups and first basic exercises, he had walked around the room and examined each student closely. To be honest, Nic's femininity had not caught his eye as much as her excellent form and execution of the various drills. He noticed her only in passing until their first interaction.

After finishing some across the floor work, Des had broken the class into groups to practice a variety of kicks and punches. One student would hold the target while the others would perfect their form and power. Once again, Des walked around the class observing and correcting. He came to Nic's group last, watching as each student took several shots at the one holding the foam shield. As Nic stepped up, the woman holding the shield grimaced and braced herself firmly. Even with this preparation, as Nic's leg landed on the foam, the woman was knocked off balance and stumbled a few feet to the side. Des was impressed and immediately interjected, relieving the woman of the target.

Taking position, Des held the shield and nodded for Nic to continue. Though he thought he had been ready for her attack, Nic's kick managed to force even Des out of his ready stance. It was then that he had truly looked into her face. Her deep brown eyes sparkled up at him as she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, questioning if she should continue. Des nodded the go ahead and readied himself again, only this time he was compelled to watch her face as she planted a blow on the target. Nic's eyes had narrowed as she focused on the shield, shading their brightness and giving her an almost relaxed look. Her full lips had opened slightly as she breathed in, standing completely still for a second. As the second ended Nic's body was in motion, her leg cutting easily through the air, her shin landing directly in the center of the shield.

As Des watched, he noticed a moment of animal pleasure cross her face as she landed the blow. Nic was pleased with the discipline with which she controlled her body and the flow of her muscles as she followed the age old movements. Her obvious enjoyment of the physicality involved put down her guards, allowing a glimpse at the woman she was underneath her tough exterior. For an instant, Des was confronted with a kind of sexual rawness, visible in her expression, and all of his male instincts made him aware of the fact that she was female, young, and vibrant. He had wanted her in that split second, in the most primal, uncivilized way. But, just as quickly as the moment came, it passed. Nic brought her leg back down to the mat, preparing to throw another kick.

Des held Nic off by standing up straight and handing her the shield. "You're very talented and have quite a lot of strength. Make sure you don't overextend your power. Using too much force could leave you open for attack," he said, still confused by what he had seen and even more, how he had responded.

"Onegaishimasu," said Nic, bowing to Des before she had readied herself to hold the target. Des had walked away confident that Nic was unaware of the effect she had had on him. She had unconsciously hit the walls of his control, something that hadn't happened since high school.

While Des had never had a problem getting sexual attention from the random woman, he had been in a bit of a dry spell for some time. He played off his reaction as a need to get laid. But, over the next few weeks, the barrage upon his self-discipline persisted, as Nic's presence in his thoughts began to increase.

Des could remember wanting women before, but never had one so distracted him on a daily, even hourly basis. At first, Des thought he only respected her abilities as a student. Nic had a strong drive to master aikido, which reminded him of himself when he was first learning. Not only did she attend class and take in all the suggestions of the instructors, but she often practiced after class was over, perfecting her technique. Des began pushing Nic hard to learn more, wondering if she could handle the pressure, and was encouraged when she stepped up the pace and matched his demands with quick learning. Although she was one of the younger and less experienced of the students, Nic was easily the strongest female and was comparable to most of the men at her skill level.

Soon, however, the line between Nic as a woman and Nic as a student began to disappear. When Des should have been thinking about her improvement, he was instead sidetracked by a strand of hair that had escaped her scarf or how small her hand seemed when he helped her off the mats. More and more, his eyes seemed drawn to the contours of her uniform-clad body. Nic was favorably endowed both above and below, and Des could only wonder at why she tried to hide her hourglass figure in baggy jeans and oversized t-shirts. Worst of all, Des could not help remembering that look of open sexuality which had initially released the floodgates of his semi-obsession. Was that the face the man who climbed between her legs was greeted by?

It was aggravating knowing that he was losing the self-possession that he had maintained for so long. If he had only found Nic attractive there would be no problem; however, she had invaded his thoughts, both waking and sleeping. Not being able to completely command his mind, Des forced himself to train longer hours, going to his physical limits. He even tried distancing himself from Nic by becoming the sensei from hell, hoping her anger would cool off the building want. But, even that had backfired, because seeing her eyes spark up at him as she checked her furious passion and channeled it into her training was a flaming turn-on.

The whole situation had culminated earlier tonight after her test match. Des had been half enraged and half proud at the way Nic had continued to fight after her injury. Tending to her wound in the changing room was something he had both dreaded and anticipated as the other teachers left. He couldn't even begin to guess at how he would deal with those long minutes spent alone with her. But, Des had surprised himself by acting professionally and had thought he might have even been gaining some ground with his attraction, until...

Until, he looked up and saw that damned expression on her face. The very one that had captured his attention in the first place. He was lost and so was she, apparently. All the time that he had spent trying to fight off Nic's appeal had been successful only because she treated him solely as her sensei. She had never even hinted at wanting more. Now, Des could plainly see that Nic was in much the same boat. It had been sheer force of will for him to get out of that room without stripping her out of that uniform and taking her there against the wall. When she had run her tongue along those full lips, Des had felt something break inside, and knew that one way or another, he would have Nic Desmond.

The only thing that had stopped Des then was the nervous fear he had seen lurking beneath the surface. Nic was scared of him for some reason, and he wouldn't push her without understanding why. So, he had left as quickly as possible, and holed up in the men's changing room until he heard her leave. He had thought he wouldn't get another chance to see her until next Monday when they met for their individual session, but fate had stepped in, in the form of her forgotten cell phone.

Now Des sat outside her home, trying to justify stopping by at nearly ten 'o clock at night. He could have waited till another day to give her back the phone, and that had been his initial plan. Des had run through drills for an hour at the dojo before leaving with the intent of going home and getting whatever rest his active mind would allow. Nic's home phone number and address had drifted in and out of his thoughts as he drove.I'll call her tomorrow and drop off her phone in the morning. Just as he finished that proposal, Des noticed that he was turning down her street and had already begun looking for the right house number. Pulling his car to the curb in front of her home, he had sat in complete disbelief at his body's rebellious actions. It had given him no choice but to face the craving Nic had produced in him earlier that evening.

Des glanced out the window at the warm light from the lantern over her door and thought nothing looked more inviting. Clenching his teeth, he finally thrust himself into action, grabbing the phone and his keys as he pushed open his door. Rounding the Jeep before he had time to change his mind, he quickly stepped along the little path to her front door. Des stopped to take a breath under the light, and depositing his keys and her phone in his back pockets, he ran his hands over his face and through his hair before ringing her doorbell.

The damage is done. No turning back, he thought as he listened intently for her footsteps. He could hear music coming from inside the small house, some kind of jazz perhaps. As Des began to wonder if he should ring again, he heard a chain being slipped out of place and the deadbolt charging out of the lock.

"What have you forgotten now?" Nic pulled the door open quickly, a smile on her lips and in her voice, until she realized it was Des standing before her. As if put under a spell, neither moved, staring in shock at the other. Des knew, Nic was simply surprised at his presence, but he was having trouble getting past the very look of her.

Nic's soft curls were haphazardly pulled up into a clip on the top of her head, quite a few locks escaping to caress the sides of her face and the back of her neck. Her lips were parted slightly, stopped in motion before she could utter whatever else she had been about to say. She wore an incredibly large sleep shirt made to look like a button-down blouse, which hung down to about mid-thigh. This wouldn't have been very surprising to Des, but instead of the cotton or flannel he would have associated with Nic, the shirt was made of satin in a luxurious sapphire color. The material molded itself to whatever skin it could find, half hiding and revealing the shape of her body. There only looked to be about four buttons holding the thing together, and had the top button been undone, Des was sure the whole thing would have fallen off.

If that wasn't enough to stop Des in his tracks, her scent alone would have put him out of commission. The delicate hint of roses drifted to him across the threshold. Nic had apparently bathed earlier, the aroma of the soap or lotion she had used mixing with the natural clean smell of her skin. Des had to check himself from leaning in to get a better trace of the delicate fragrance. He wanted to close his eyes and just breathe her in, but thought that would look a little odd on top of his unlikely appearance.

Des and Nic continued to hold their staring contest for what seemed like hours. He could think of nothing to say, his brain having momentarily shut down from the sight of her. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but couldn't get the words to emerge from her stupefied lips. Had it not been for the soft mewling sound located in the vicinity of their feet, who knows how long they would have remained statue-still on her threshold?

Des looked down to see a sleek, gray and black tabby with green eyes investigating his shoes. The cat was completely confident in its movements, going around and between his ankles with her lithe body. As its front paws passed over the top of his right foot in another circuit of its investigation, Des pushed back on his heel and deftly rubbed the cat's belly with his toe. The tabby shivered in evident enjoyment at the caress, and purred loudly before gazing up at Des in adoration.What I wouldn't give to see Nic look at me like that.

"Nice cat," said Des, bringing his attention back to the animal's owner. "What's its name?"

"Pyewacket," answered Nic in a near whisper.

"What?"

She cleared her throat before repeating the name again. A light went off in Des' head as he glanced back down at the feline and immediately took in the resemblance. "Bell, Book, and Candle. Yeah she does look just like the cat from the movie."

Nic's surprised expression melted into one of small admiration at Des' familiarity with the film. "Most people don't get the connection. Of course, I'm nothing like Kim Novak."

Don't bet on it, thought Des.That husky voice is a spot on match. He would have said this out loud had a phone not started ringing. Nic gazed back over her shoulder and then to Des, an indecisive look on her face. Stooping to pick up the cat, she met Des' eyes once more before opening the door wider and backing up a step.

"Come in, won't you? I have to get that," she said, before turning and moving off toward the source of the sound. Des watched her hips sway as she walked away, noting with pleasure that the slight limp from her sprain didn't appear to effect the unconsciously seductive movement. Des stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. He heard Nic pick up the phone in what must have been the kitchen, but decided not to follow her. He was more intrigued by how the home would reflect the resident and wanted a chance to explore.

To Des' left stood an open room which encompassed both the living and dining area. It had everything one would expect in such a space, a comfortable looking couch and armchair, coffee table, entertainment center, and dining table with chairs. However, the size of the room had been reduced thanks to the many bookshelves which covered nearly all of the wall space. Storage units in many varieties lined the perimeter of the room, packed with hard and soft cover books, DVDs, and CDs. The collection was truly extensive, covering nearly every genre of literature, film, and music.

Whatever wall that was not hidden completely behind a bookshelf, was decorated with some kind of picture. All of them were beautifully shot photographs of random, and sometimes obscure, sights that caught the eye and sparked the imagination. Des wondered if Nic was the photographer, because the work was incredibly artistic.

On the dining room table were strewn various papers, graphs, charts, and other documents. A notebook computer stood open at one end of the table, denoting this place as Nic's makeshift desk. Her briefcase lay against one of the table's legs, half falling over a pair of high-heeled pumps that Des was surprised to think of Nic wearing. He only ever saw her wearing casual clothes, but perhaps she dressed to go to work.

Leading out of this main room was a large archway which led into the kitchen, where Des could hear Nic speaking softly to someone. To the right of the kitchen was a short hallway which led deeper into the small house, with a few closed doors along the way. To his immediate right was a staircase to the second floor and what Des assumed would be the bedrooms. He stood at the bottom step, contemplating what Nic's room would look like when he heard her hang up the phone and step out of the kitchen.

Nic leaned against the wall nervously, keeping a lot of space between herself and Des. Not knowing how to break the silence between them, Des waited for her to speak. It also gave him the chance to drink in the sight of her sleek brown legs and the delectable way the fabric of her shirt accentuated all of her movements. The music he had heard outside continued to play in the background, switching from smooth jazz to something with a faster beat. Nic grabbed a remote from the dining room table and shut off the stereo in the entertainment center, bringing an abrupt quiet to the room.

"Why are you here Des?" Nic set the remote back down and absentmindedly shuffled through some papers on the table as she asked the question.

"I...wanted to talk to you," replied Des, unsure as to what he should say. He had come to give back her cell phone. But, at the moment he couldn't bring himself to just hand her the phone and walk away. He was too far over the edge to be able to wait for another opportunity.

"Is this about today's test?" Nic finally looked at Des, her eyes searching his face. He wasn't sure what she was looking for, but felt uncomfortable with her examination. There was an almost ominous tone in her voice.

"What would make you think that?"

"What other reason would you have for coming to my house this late at night?"

"Perhaps I wanted to tell you that I thought you performed well tonight."

Nic answered this response with an incredulous laugh and a shake of her head. "And why would I believe that?" The guarded expression on Nic's face seemed out of character. Des was unsure how to proceed, wondering if he should be angry or disappointed in her lack of trust in his sincerity.

"I've never given you a reason not to believe what I say," he responded. "When someone does a good job, I tell them so."

"Oh, that's a good one. I've been working my ass off for nearly three months now, and I can count on one hand how many times you've actually praised my efforts. You hardly even speak to me unless it's todemandthat I run another drill, or work harder, or to give you more!" Nic slammed her hand onto the corner of the table as she worked herself up.

"I never asked for more than you could give," said Des, trying to remain calm. The direction of the conversation was the exact opposite of where he had wanted it to go, and Nic's anger was like a light switch that had suddenly been flipped on. But, Des realized if he wanted to get closer to Nic he would have to explain his actions toward her.