Chapter Fifteen

She watched as the two lovers' lips met for the first time, the woman pushing the man away while at the same time drawing him closer. The man had finally given up on wooing the woman with gifts and took the direct approach. The woman yielded to the kiss, feeling the desires and emotions she suppressed for the man rise to the surface, no longer able to deny them.

The gift, an antique doll, was crushed between the two.

She fell in love with the treasure at first sight yet didn't know who had given it to her, just like the necklace at Christmas. Now on her birthday, she had received another anonymous gift.

She went through the motions of being the guest of honor, opening her other gifts, taking random guesses at who her mystery gift giver was. But all the gifts were open, cake was eaten and people were steadily going back to their duties. She still scanned the crowd, lovingly holding the doll with the ivory lace dress, hoping her mystery benefactor would reveal him or herself. Then her eyes met his, the glint in his sky blue eyes mischievous.

He turned away, knowing she had guessed. Uncertainty and an urge to remain anonymous carried him through the door.

The woman mentally kicked herself for not seeing who her benefactor was sooner and ran after him. "Anybody but him," she whispered, hoping she was wrong. She couldn't risk her heart on a man who was a player.

She wanted to shout and rant at him as she stuck her foot in the door of the lift, cornering him, but she merely pressed the button for her floor, resisting the urge to tap her foot in frustration. She was almost to her deck. Would he really let her go on thinking …

She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention as an arm shot out and stopped the lift. She could feel his heat at her back, the arm still hesitating at her side and holding the emergency stop button waiting for her decision.

She turned, pressing her body to his, their lips meeting on a breath as he bent his head to hers. The kiss was hesitant at first, as though the man were trying to hold back, like he was trying to coax a fawn into the open.

His dark lashes closed as the woman pressed closer to him, increasing the pressure of the kiss -- deepening it.

The woman pulled away, turned around and canceled the emergency stop and the call for her deck. "You better not be a player," she said out loud, knowing she could not resist him any longer and jumping headlong into the desire he had stirred within her. "I hate to be toyed with."

"Same goes for you, darlin'," he whispered and stroked her hair.

Hoshi woke with a jolt, flushed, the feelings unfamiliar to her. She thought of Malcolm and wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him the way that …yuck…Trip kissed Em. That didn't happen. Why did she dream that?

Hoshi sat up in bed and stretched, looking into the mirror and was able to see that Em wasn't in the bottom bunk. "That's odd. Em had tonight off."

She tossed and turned, not able to get back to sleep, the frustration she felt unrelenting. So she got up, dressed and headed for the gym.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him, shirtless, sweeping his arms and legs through the air with ease and confidence, but without aggression. She recognized the moves her mother had taught her so long ago, the moves she and Em practiced three times a week. She had yet to start her weapons training.

His eyes closed, he hadn't noticed she had entered. He wore earpieces with music blaring, as she could hear it across the room. He swept through the air with an imaginary opponent. Her eyes followed his hand movements and the way he transferred his weight along his hips.

Sensing a presence, he opened his eyes, startling her. Silently he motioned for her to join him, knowing she had just started practicing push hand techniques with Em last week. It was time to observe what she actually knew, so he took his earpieces out.

In silent repose, she stood next to him, her feet apart, pushing her tongue to her upper palette. She relaxed her hands and shook them out, inhaling and exhaling deeply as she did so. Soon she fell into a sweeping motion with Malcolm.

"Are you ready for push hands?" he asked, stepping in front of her and pushing forward, creating the Yang movement.

Hoshi answered, pushing his arms to the side, yielding to the Yang. He had taken her by surprise and she struggled to regain her inner balance, so he backed away with an apology and encouraged her to push onto him, becoming the Yin.

"Remember, Yang is not meant to be aggressive. But my Yin will not be weak and will achieve a movement toward strength," he stated simply as he blocked Hoshi's right arm with his left, twisting her away and throwing her off balance yet again.

Hoshi's frustration grew even though she knew it wasn't about besting him. Yet she felt the urge to prove something to him. What it was, she didn't know.

She held her hands in a sign of center and she opened her mind, whether it be a mistake or in her favor, she didn't know. She could hear her mother, "Be still like the mountain."

As she stilled, she could sense Malcolm, the focal point of his calm holding an underlying tension within him.

She faced him, distancing herself at arm's length and placing one foot forward.
Her forward hand rose to his chest with the palm facing in, the back of her hand lightly touching the same part of Malcolm. She placed her other hand gently on his elbow, so that both had equal starting positions. She placed her feet for balance and stability, waiting for the exercise to begin.

Malcolm immediately pushed his right arm toward her centerline. Hoshi ascertained his weakness, shifting her weight to the side and bringing her left arm up over his elbow. Quickly, she grabbed his wrist and elbow and shifted her energies forward and straight down, dashing Malcolm to the ground.

She straddled him like she had straddled her mother as a child, her mother always telling her she had let Hoshi win. "Your attack was too aggressive," she smiled down at him, her ponytail falling over one of her shoulders and brushing against his chest.

His eyes darkened and desire stirred within him. Her scent assailed him. The feel of her pressed against him intimately didn't help his problem; neither did the feel of her silken hair moving against his chest.

She could sense the want inside him, directed outwardly toward her, and it confused her. Then she noticed him looking at her lips and she heard the thought of one single word in her mind – "kiss."

Her eyes fell to his lips and she saw him lick them. Curiosity and the wanting filled her as well, and she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, closing her eyes as she had seen in the movies.

In her moment of victory, she had pinned both his arms. He knew her strength was no match for his, yet he lay there, not breathing – wanting -- lost in the moment. She freed his arms to cup his face, her lips rubbing against his with her inexperience. His eyes closed and he lost himself.

He wanted to taste her, to see if she tasted like the scent he associated with her. Nipping at her lips, he placed his hands on the sides of her face, not holding her to him, yet encouraging her to deepen the kiss, but realizing she wouldn't know how. So, he ran his tongue along the edge of her lips, seeking entrance, which was gladly granted as she opened her mouth to gasp.

Her tongue mimicked his and ran along his lips.

Encouraged, he moved his tongue past her lips and coaxed hers to move over his, earning a keening moan from the back of her throat.

Her mind's eye forced her to look at and define what was happening to her as she felt the urgency pool in her stomach. The words repeated over in her head – "desire and passion" – concepts completely alien to her.

He wanted to strip her and take her there on the mat, the thought causing him to pull back, clasping his guilt like a shield. He felt her questions in his mind and the violation angered him.

Malcolm pushed her off him and jumped up with a huff, straightening his sweats around his waist. "I don't need a virgin with a daddy complex experimenting with me. Now, stay out of my head!" He walked to the locker room and collapsed against the door as it closed.

Hoshi sat there, the ache of desire still throbbing inside her as the meaning of his words scalded her soul.