Page 92 of A Sun Scorched Bloom

They continued, Janelle jumping close to Erik, punching or kicking and then quickly backing away. Her strikes were fast, and though she was hitting harder, she was still too timid.

"You have to take me down. Get the upper hand." Erik dodged a punch.

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" Janelle snapped at him, growing more agitated by the minute.

"You’re scared of something," Erik stalked closer. "Use it."

"I’m not fuckingscared." Janelle shoved him backward.

"And I am not a fool. You’re afraid, and you’re lying to yourself about it. Fight me, Janelle. Prove to yourself that whatever haunts your nightmares has no hold over you."

"Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about!" Janelle shouted, her face turning red.

"You want me to shut up?" Erik yelled back. "Make me, Janelle!"

Janelle let out a cry filled with what seemed to be years' worth of pent-up pain and rage as she launched herself at Erik, driving her shoulder into his abdomen while hooking her right leg behind his and attempting to sweep it out from under him. Erik allowed it, crashing to his back with an echoing thud. It had been a good move, and one that she would have been successful with on her own, had she had a bit more time to work on strengthening. Erik made a mental note to make that an area of focus in training over the next few weeks.

Janelle climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and began throwing punches at his face, tears now streaming from her eyes. He blocked her blows gently, allowing her to take out her frustration on him.

"Good. More," he urged.

With a look of fury in her eyes, she reared back and punched again, this time smashing her fist into his lip. Janelle froze. "Oh my God, I’m so sorry." Janelle covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide and brimming with remorse.

Erik reached up and touched his lip to find blood on his fingers. "You donotapologize for learning to defend yourself."

Janelle tried to climb off Erik, but he grabbed her hips and pinned her against him, flipping them over. "And you definitely do not apologize when you throw a good punch." He turned his head to spit the blood filling his mouth onto the mat.

Janelle nodded, her chest rising and falling as her breaths became shallow.

Erik continued to pin her against the floor, his proximity to her causing his mouth to water and for him to grow thick and hard where his manhood pressed against her stomach. Janelle’s eyes opened wide, and she squirmed, but she didn’t push him away.

"Erik?" Janelle whispered breathlessly, "What are we doing?"

"We’re training," he rumbled, every inch of him taut as he tried to keep himself from leaning down and tasting her lips.

"You know what I'm asking," she whispered breathlessly.

Erik’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. "I’m waiting for you to decide what you want."

"I don’t understand." She finally met his eyes, letting her tough facade drop and showing more vulnerability than she’d ever let him see.

"I think you know exactly how I feel about you, Janelle." Erik raised a hand to gently stroke her cheek. "I know what I want. But something’s holding you back," Janelle tried to interrupt, but he continued talking, "and that’s okay. I can wait until you know what you want. I want you to feel safe with me."

"I do," she said without hesitation, then paused as a hint of a smile pulled her lips up. "I do feel safe with you."

Erik bent down, resting his forearms on the ground on either side of Janelle’s head and pressing his forehead against hers. The relief he felt at hearing those words was the greatest thing he had ever felt. He wanted to be her safe haven, her protector, her biggest fan. He wanted to be her everything. The feelings had snuck up on him over the past few weeks, but now they were all-consuming to a point that was maddening.

"Then, what doyouwant, Janelle?" His chest heaved with his effort to restrain himself.

Janelle bit her lip, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. With a trembling hand, she reached up and cupped his cheek. "I want you."

It was all the permission Erik needed before his lips crashed into hers, his hands tangling into her hair as her arms wrapped around his neck. Months of pent up tension fueled their movements, their kisses bruising in their intensity.

Janelle rocked herself against him, and Erik groaned, sliding his hand down to cup her breast.

"Erik," Janelle whispered, his name a plea and a promise.

Erik rose to his knees, pulling his shirt from behind head and throwing it to the floor before laying back down and brushing soft kisses along Janelle’s jaw. He lowered his hand to the hem of her shirt and his fingers skimmed against her milky white skin, skin that he’d craved to explore every night since they’d begun sleeping wrapped around each other.

---