Hate, Lust or More?

Gah, I hate him! Lizzie thought as she crossed the room, heading to the kitchen. She had just spotted John Pritkin, the bane of her existence. Lizzie hated him with every fibre of her being. She hated the way he spoke with that pretentious upper class British accent. She hated the way his blond hair stuck up in wildest of ways. She hated the way he moved with a skilled fighter's grace. She hated his crooked smile. She hated the sparkle in his emerald green eyes. She hated his deep resonating laugh. She hated the way he was able to hold an incredibly interesting and intelligent discussion while managing to make everyone laugh. She hated his charming ways. Basically, Lizzie hated everything about him. Spotting one of her best friends, Cam, Lizzie crossed the kitchen. Cam held out a beer for her, and Lizzie snatched it, downing half in one big swig.

"Whoa there, girl," Cam exclaimed. "Slow down; the beer's not going anywhere! Let me guess, you saw him." Lizzie knew exactly who the 'him' was, and she was determined not the think about him that night. It was a party, and damnit, she was going to enjoy herself.

"I hate him," Lizzie sighed. There goes not thinking about him. "I don't understand how you all can like him so much! He's so annoying and rude and annoying and mean and annoying and conceited! Did I mention he was annoying?"

Cam laughed. "He's really only annoying to you. I, personally, think he's charming and nice. And if you gave each other half a chance, you'd see what we all see in the both of you!" Cam, spotting her hotter than hot boyfriend Mikey, patted Lizzie on the shoulder, told her to hang in there, and rushed into Mikey's arms, leaving Lizzie to contemplate the object of her hatred.

It had been eight months ago when she met the man who drove her insane. Lizzie's roommate, Christine, a.k.a. Chris, suggested that she go to her cousin's mixed martial arts class, after Lizzie complained about how she never got any exercise. Lizzie jumped at the idea, being a huge UFC and MMA fan. She had done some kickboxing previously, and loved the work out, not to mention that she got to hit, punch, kick and grapple with some rather fit and hot men. So two days later, Chris led Lizzie into the MMA class, and that's when she saw him. He was easily one of the best looking guys she'd ever seen. He was tall, lean, and all muscle. His face could have graced the pages of any magazine. He had full luscious lips, a square jaw and eye lashes that cast a shadow on his high cheekbones. He had looked over to where Chris and Lizzie were standing, smiled, sending a sparkle to his eye, and jogged over. He stopped right in front of them, gracing the ladies with a smile that almost caused Lizzie to swoon. He playfully punched Chris in the arm, looked at Lizzie and asked, "So who've we got here, Chris?"

Chris smacked the guy back and introduced Lizzie to the stud. "Lizzie, this is the trainer, and my cousin, Mikey. Mikey, this is Lizzie, the woman I was telling you about." Lizzie had sighed inwardly. Of course she'd heard about Mikey; all the ladies with whom she had lunch, most of whom were in the class, spoke of the sexy, sexy trainer. Lizzie knew that Cam in particular had had a thing for Mikey, even though she had insisted that they were just friends. Lizzie would never, ever make a move on someone her friend was interested in. Mikey had smiled again and told her that she was to take it easy that day, and that he only wanted to see what she could do. To that end, he had explained, he was going to pair her up with his top student, someone who was a master in his own right, but just took the class because they were friends. Mikey had called him over, and that was when she had first laid eyes on him.

Lizzie remembered the moment exactly, in excruciating detail. He had walked over, moving with a grace befit a natural athlete and bespoke of his talent for martial arts. He had been wearing a black t-shirt that fit loosely, but still managed to showcase the lean muscles of a fighter and a pair of loose fitting black pants that covered his long legs. His blond hair was spiky, but had moved with his every step, and when he had looked her in the eye, Lizzie's breath had hitched and her mouth had gone dry. He was gorgeous. Mikey had introduced him as "John Pritkin, master martial artist and British charmer," and John had smiled crookedly, hit Mikey and shook his head. And Lizzie had known she was lost; lost to everything except the tempting man who stood in front of her. John had held out his hand and she had taken it, an instant spark passing between them. John's eyes had widened slightly, and Lizzie had known he felt it too. He had mumbled a "Nice to meet you, Ms. Chang" in a decidedly sexy British accent, and Lizzie found herself stuttering a "You too."

She had shaken herself out of her dreamy stupor and told him he could call her Lizzie. His response had floored her. He had insisted that, due to his proper upbringing, he would never call someone to which he was not properly acquainted by their first name. And that was when the war had started. Nobody dared insult her family, which is what John had done when he insinuated that Lizzie didn't have a proper upbringing. She had kicked his ass that night, getting out her frustration (both sexual and emotional), and showing him and Mikey that she was a fighter.

Pulling herself back to the present, Lizzie sighed and looked around. Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Pritkin (which she had called him ever since that first meeting, refusing to use his first name -- ever) with Lynn, one of the newer students. In the few seconds her eyes rested on them, Lizzie became increasingly upset. Lynn was a few years younger, tall, slender and pretty. She knew how to work her body to get a guy's attention, and now she was using all that skill toward Pritkin. Lizzie snorted with disgust -- at the way Lynn was throwing herself at him and his buying into it -- downed the rest of her beer and reached for another one.

Across the room Pritkin (as he now liked to be called) watched her take a sip of another beer. His eyes travelled down her enticing neck and further, taking in the full sight of her. That was her third beer, and if she had another one in the next half hour he knew she'd be well on her way to drunk. Pritkin smiled slightly to himself, thinking that she could definitely hold her alcohol for a tiny Asian chick, and then his brow furrowed as he thought that even she wouldn't be able to properly hold four beers consumed in less than two hours. He tried to bring his attention back to the 'conversation' in which he and Lynn were engaged, but couldn't bring himself to pay attention to her inane prattling. Instead he found his thoughts drifting to the infuriating, talented and oh-so-sexy china doll who invaded his dreams and fantasies.

He, too, remembered well the day they met. Pritkin remembered thinking that she was the single most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his 28 years on earth. He had known in an instant that he wanted her, but he also knew he had to keep his feelings in check. He'd been burned badly before, and refused to let his libido do the thinking for him again. So he had relied on his manners to keep him out of trouble, but in so doing, he had inadvertently insulted her, and now she hated him. What had made it worse was that two months prior, Mikey had asked Lizzie to compete in the annual MMA competition, which was an honour, especially for a beginner and Lizzie had quickly agreed. Mikey had then asked Pritkin to train Lizzie outside of class, which was common for competitors. While it did not surprise Pritkin to be asked, it did sort of disappoint him. He couldn't say no, and now he couldn't really make a move on Lizzie, because he didn't want to take advantage of the trainer-student relationship they now found themselves in.

Over the last two months Pritkin became more and more attracted to Lizzie. At first he simply admired her shape and form; the long straight black hair; her warm lighter-than-normal (for an Asian) brown almond-shaped eyes; her soft pale skin; her small but leanly muscled frame; her breasts, which were larger than most other Asian women. Put together, Pritkin had wanted to scoop her up, throw her down and ravage her. That had been then, and now he still wanted her, but in a completely different way. Oh he still wanted to fuck her as hard as she would let him, in any way she would let him, but he wanted more. Getting to know her outside of class, spending those three nights a week together in his basement gym training, Pritkin came to know Lizzie. And now he knew that he wanted to be with her for as long as she would have him. She was smart, funny, cynical, sweet, caring, tough, independent, considerate and so much more. She had become everything to him, the very definition of perfection, and Pritkin knew he had to have her, but he also knew he had to wait another two months for the tournament to be over before he could even consider making a move.

Pritkin mentally kicked himself for having such principles. He did not want to, could not take advantage of her trust in him as her teacher. He would have to wait. Looking over at her, across all the other party-goers, Pritkin knew that he would wait as long as it took to have her. Lizzie had made her way out onto the dance floor and now was moving to the thumping bass of an old-school dancehall tune. Pritkin felt himself getting hard watching Lizzie's hips swing, her body moving in a subconsciously sexy way. Pritkin knew Lizzie didn't think of herself as sexy, but he most definitely did. With her eyes closed, body swaying in time with the music, her hair swishing back and forth and a light sheen of sweat coating her skin, Pritkin could think of nothing but the way her body would move under his. Pritkin's eyes travelled from Lizzie's small feet, up her well-muscled legs to the swell of hips to her slender waist, catching a glimpse of her plump breasts, up further along her neck to her pouty full lips, her cute little nose and finally coming to her eyes.

With a jolt, Lizzie found herself staring into Pritkin's bright green eyes from across the room. She quickly turned around, but it was too late; that one little glance made her wet. That's what she hated most about Pritkin: he was able to make her heart beat rapidly, her palms sweat and her panties soaked with just a look. Lizzie shook her head. What the heck is wrong with me? She thought. It must be the beer, yeah, that's it, it's the beer! Even before the thought was finished, she knew she was lying to herself. He could do this to her when she was stone sober, and probably quicker. Just last week she had caught his scent, just a sniff, and she had to rush to the bathroom to... take care of her urges, and he wasn't even anywhere near her! Just don't think about him, don't look at him, don't think about him, don't look at him over and over Lizzie repeated to herself, like a mantra. If she didn't go near him, she wouldn't want to jump him, and then she could continue to wallow in her hate for him.

Somehow Lizzie found a fresh beer in her hand. Funny, she didn't remember finishing her last, but then thoughts of Pritkin started to rise again, and she took a huge swig of beer, figuring she could drown out the images of him sweaty and half-naked. She had just finished half the beer when she began to feel dizzy. Holding out her hand, Lizzie stumbled a bit on her way to find a steady surface. All of sudden she found herself enclosed in strong warm arms, pressed against a firm chest. Lizzie took in a sharp breath and with it came an intoxicating and thoroughly sexy scent. She sighed and melted against the hard body before she caught herself.

"Damnit Pritkin! Let me go!" Lizzie exclaimed angrily, hoping to cover up her earlier reaction to his body.

"And allow you to fall to the ground thereby injuring yourself and forcing you to sit out of this year's tournament? I don't think so, Chang," Pritkin said calmly. He'd felt her relax against him, heard her sigh and damn near lost it. He had to catch himself before he took her right there up against the wall, in front of everybody. And he did, but just barely.

Lizzie pushed against him. "I'm fine!" She shouted, a little louder than was necessary, and stormed away. He let her go, and she stumbled out of the room and down the hallway. Get away from him, get away from him, get away from him became her new mantra. She found an open door and an empty room and rushed in, slamming the door behind her. Ok Liz, get a grip! He isn't that hot! He's entirely annoying, and you hate him! He is not for you, and you know it! Lizzie tried to convince herself that she didn't want him, that he didn't want her, that they were all wrong for each other. She thought about all the things that annoyed her about him, about all the times he was rude and condescending and all that. Lizzie started to calm down and get her hormones in check when other thoughts came crashing into her head. Images and snippets of previous conversations began floating around her head. Pritkin laughing at some ridiculous joke one of their friends made. Pritkin changing out of his sweaty t-shirt. Pritkin teaching the younger kids with a smile on his face and making the kids laugh. Pritkin discussing the current geo-political crisis, while joking about how he chose to move to Canada because really, who would attack Canada. Lizzie let out a frustrated huff and walked to the far side of the room. Just as she reached the bed side table the door flew open. Lizzie swung around and found herself face to face with an angry Pritkin.

"You are not alright! You are drunk and you will hurt yourself if you're not careful!" Pritkin growled. Lizzie shivered slightly at the power in his voice. She had never seen him this upset, or sexy. His eyes were flashing and that voice! Where on earth did that sexy growl come from!?

"I am fine! I can take care of myself, and besides, why the hell do you care?" She continued before he could answer. "Oh yeah, that's right, I'm supposed to be your prized pupil, the one who's going to win the tournament and show Mikey that you're ready to take on a class! Gah! I'm just a means to an end for you, aren't I?!"

"That is completely untrue!" Pritkin countered. "You..."

"Whatever, I know you don't really care about what happens to me and that after the tournament you'll go back to ignoring me!" Pritkin took a small step back. He had indeed been trying to avoid Lizzie before he started training her, but that was only in an effort to spare himself some pain. But he had no intention of ever doing that again.

Lizzie took his retreat as confirmation of his previous actions and whipped around, presenting Pritkin with an angry back. "Please get out!" She spat over her shoulder.

Pritkin stood rooted in the spot. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want her to be angry at him like this. But most of all, he didn't want her to think that she meant nothing more to him than a "means to an end". He stepped towards her, grabbed her arm and spun her around.

Lizzie had a chance to briefly look into darkened emerald eyes before Pritkin's mouth swooped down and crashed onto her. The intensity of his kiss stole her breath and Lizzie let out a small moan. Apparently Pritkin took the small sound as encouragement, because he slipped his arms around Lizzie's waist, pulled her close and ran his tongue over her lips. Lizzie let his tongue in and fell into the most amazing kiss she'd ever had. There was an urgency and heat in that kiss that she'd only read about. As his hands began to move -- one down towards her ass, the other up to tangle in her hair -- Lizzie slipped her hands up over his button-down dress shirt covered chest. Through her palms she could feel his nipples tighten, and she smiled. Then she let out another moan as Pritkin's hand found its way under her skirt to cup her left butt cheek as his mouth moved from hers to trail a hot wet path to her neck. In about two seconds he found her weak spot, right under her jaw, over her pulse. Lizzie moaned again and pressed her body more firmly against Pritkin. She ran her hands up to grasp his deceptively soft blond hair, pressing his mouth tighter to her skin. "Oh Pritkin," she sighed. Then stopped and giggled. It just didn't sound right. She felt his body shake a little and knew that he was giggling too. Then he ran his tongue over her skin and she shuddered. The action caused her to elicit an "oh John!"

John jerked his head back at hearing his first name uttered from those beautiful lips. He looked into Lizzie's confused and slightly disappointed eyes and smiled.

"You called me John!"

"Uh... yeah... well moaning 'Pritkin' just sounded weird," Lizzie responded, a little embarrassed. John growled deep in his throat.

"I liked it," he said, right before he crushed her lips in another soul searing kiss. John couldn't believe that it was finally happening. None of his fantasies were this hot, this good, this... right. John didn't want to let her go, so he held her closer. The feel of her soft lips against his own, her tongue twining with his, her body against his nearly drove him out of his mind. I have to have her, tonight, right now, he thought. John ran his hand down from Lizzie's silky mane, down her back and up her shirt. He brought his other hand up from her firm ass and used both to pull her shirt up over her head. John flung the offending garment across the room and kissed her neck and collar bone. He loved the way her skin tasted, slightly salty from the sweat and a taste that was indefinably hers. He kissed and licked his way to her plain black cotton covered breasts. John smiled at her choice of undergarments. From his previous excursion under her skirt, he knew that Lizzie wore a pair of boy-cut shorts and paired with the plain bra, John found this set sexier than any set of frilly, lacy underwear. Suddenly he had the urge to see if the panties matched the bra, and sunk to his knees. Looking up into Lizzie's eyes, John ran his hands from her ankles up her legs slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Lizzie sighed and her eyes rolled closed. John found it extremely alluring and rushed to find the zipper on her skirt. Once found, he made quick work of the tiny piece of fabric. As she stepped out of it, John saw that the set was indeed matched, and he ran his fingers over and under the tops of her panties. The dark patch on the crotch spoke of how much she wanted him, and John grinned. He would give her everything she wanted, and more.

Lizzie looked down into John's eyes, and saw a mischievous twinkle and wondered what he was up to. Then he kissed her mound over her panties, and all thoughts fled. The feel of his mouth on her through the thin cotton made Lizzie even wetter and she could barely contain the wracking moan that threatened to take over her body. She closed her eyes and only let out a small sigh. Suddenly John's mouth was gone and Lizzie snapped her eyes open, to find heated eyes staring back. Lizzie smiled and took the break from his devil mouth to catch her breath. Lizzie decided it was her time to see what he was hiding and proceeded to unbutton John's shirt. Though she knew what his naked torso looked like, she had wanted to know what his smooth skin felt like under her fingers. As the shirt fell to the floor, Lizzie ran her hands all over his body, and suddenly that wasn't enough. She wanted to taste him, so she leaned forward and started at his neck. She kissed him where he had kissed her, and to her delight he moaned and encircled her with his arms again. Then she ran her tongue over stubbled skin, down to the smooth planes of his chest, lightly dusted with thin blond hair. He tasted divine, completely male. She lightly flicked her tongue over one of his nipples, then bit down. The reaction that caused was the one she was looking for. John reared against her stomach, his previously large erection gaining more size. Lizzie worked her way over to the other nipple and did the same, to the same result. By now Lizzie was grinning and incredibly turned on. Since she liked how much his upper body tasted, she wanted to see if she would like what was below the waist. Lizzie dropped to her knees, unbuckled John's jeans and slid them and his boxer briefs down. She was not disappointed.