Icouldn't blow off another session with sad eyes, so I needed to pull my head out of my ass and face her. I was frustrated that I'd let her get to me, causing me to miss Tuesday. A day's worth of pay down the drain just because I couldn't keep my dick to myself. It had nothing to do with being rejected or embarrassed—nope, none. I didn't have room for that emotion in my life. Not anymore.
"Hey, Wells. Want to grab a drink after tonight?" Missy or Kristy asked. I never learned her name, and yet, she continued to talk to me and ask me out.
"No."
That never worked, though, and as I felt her hands trail up my arm, I stiffened, trying not to grab it like I wanted and throw her off me. I needed this job to stay afloat in my debts, but I didn't want to be assaulted. Yet, another prime example of me being blamed for something if I were to do anything. Fucking unfair, sexist shit. Besides, she wasn't the one I wanted touching me. Not that kitten was a real option.
Moving off the bench, I put space between us and ignored her comments as I made my way out of the locker room. I could finish getting ready out there and away from her. Her cries of frustration did nothing to my already annoyed state. Sorry, not sorry, but not happening.
Leaning against the gym wall, I methodically wrapped my hands, falling into an easy rhythm I'd learned as a teen. Fighting had been a way of life then, a way to survive. My thoughts were interrupted as I heard the door to the gym open and close. I hoped it wasn't Barbie trying again. I just didn't have it in me to be nice today. That was a lie. I didn't have it in me to be nice ever.
Looking up, I was momentarily stunned when I caught sight of my kitten. She looked different today, and I couldn't place my finger on the why. Blanking my features, I grunted and walked over to the bag. Thankfully, she trailed behind me, so I didn't have to talk. I counted in my head to slow my heart at her nearness. She smelt fucking delicious, and I had to school myself not to throw her down right here and devour her. The pain of rejection rolled through me after our last encounter, helping to defuse my arousal.
"Warm up," I barked, ignoring her as I started my own stretches. I swear I felt her eyes roll at the back of my head, but a few seconds later, the sound of her stretching could be heard. Keeping my gaze trained on the bag in front of me, I went through my warm ups, zoning out.
"Now what?" she huffed, pulling me from my trance. Looking at her face closely, I saw she had a rosy complexion and had taken off the long shirt she was wearing a few minutes ago. Shit. Averting my eyes, I turned back in the other direction, ignoring her until I was done.
"Here." I motioned, pointing her to the bag. Holding it, I waited until she was in position.
"Give me as many jabs as you can until your arms get tired, and then we'll switch to kicks."
A fierce look of determination took over her face as she centered herself and started attacking the bag with exuberance. Sighing, I dropped the bag, causing it to swing with her next punch. Walking around the bag toward her, I gently placed my hands on her hips, correcting her form. Moving her arms from behind, I tried to keep my distance from her, not wanting my body to touch hers.
"Like this."
She nodded, I guess adopting the no-talking rule we'd decided on. Once she had her rhythm of punches, I moved back and held the bag. I was surprised how long she punched, not stopping until she was tired like I'd told her.
"Take a break, get some water. Then we can resume."
She nodded again, communicating in head shakes and grunts becoming our norm. I didn't hate it. It was easier to control my urges when she didn't open her mouth, making me want to shut it with either my dick or tongue.
Kitten moved toward her stuff against the wall, downing a bottle of water in the process. Some spilled over, rolling down her neck and cleavage, and I swear I'd never in my life been as jealous as I was then of that glistening drop of water. Turning back, I breathed again, rearranging my dick and warmed up my legs by practicing some kicks. I was trying to distract myself from her intoxicating presence. When I heard her steps, I pulled the bag back to me, using it to hide any lingering evidence.
"Okay, get into the position you stand in," I directed, waiting for her to move into place. "This is the height you want to shoot for," I motioned to an X tape on the bag, "Don't get fancy and try to go higher. You're not ready. Trust me and do it here for now."
A fire lit in her at my words, and I knew she would do it higher. They always did. Letting go, I walked around to my position and held it as I waited for her to make the same mistake all rookies did.
Surprisingly, she kept it at the level I had indicated, slowly thrusting her foot forward with barely enough force to kick a leaf over.
"Harder," I demanded, my voice going rough with the command.
Sad eyes narrowed on me, and I watched as she steeled herself and started to put more force into it, finally getting somewhere. After about ten minutes, she showed signs of fatigue, which had been a good length of time for her first.
"Switch legs."
We continued in this pattern over the next hour, only a few words passed between us as she kicked the bag and I held it. When the time was up, I didn't think she'd said more than ten words to me the entire session. Usually, I'd prefer that, but I found myself missing her voice and combative remarks for some reason. I guess that was why I pushed her buttons at the end, wanting some of her fire, feeling I deserved it.
"Decent job, kitten. It seems you can listen when you want to. I bet you'd be pretty on your knees, submitting to me as I shove my cock down your throat."
I hadn't expected the smack of her hand across my cheek, but I deserved it. I'd crossed a line.
Part of me enjoyed her aggression, for the simple fact I got to see the fire back in her. The other side of me reveled in it because of all the shitty mistakes I'd made in my life. My kitten was everything I hated and desired wrapped up in a hot little sad package. Her sad eyes pulled to the darkness in me, and I wanted to wrap her in it, simultaneously fighting against the shadows and being hers.
"What's your problem?" she screamed before stalking off, her ass entrancing me as she did. Grabbing the punching bag, I held it to me, hiding the second erection she'd given me in an hour. I expected her to storm out, but when she got to the door, I watched her take in deep breaths, her back arching with each one. She turned, a look of fierce determination on her face.
"No. It's not ending this way… not again. You're going to teach me. Now," she motioned toward me with her fingers, "teach."
Despite what she'd intended, her claws coming out only sent fire through my veins even more. Needing to douse my arousal, I released the bag and picked up the mitts on the bench. Glaring at her, I positioned myself with my hands up, sending a death stare toward her. It seemed my kitten had taken her anger juice today. She wailed into my hands, not stopping until I called it. Sweat dripped from her brow, her breaths were heavy as she bent over, trying to catch her breath.