Another night, another fucked up dream. If it wasn't the hostage situation it was something from Iraq. My doctors prescribed Ambien to help a while back, but that stuff was more potent than street drugs. I took one pill while waiting for macaroni and cheese to boil one night, and woke up passed out on my kitchen floor nine hours later. I was lucky I hadn't burned my apartment down.
Dressed and ready for another run I set out on a similar path I had followed since my arrival. It was still early, especially for a Saturday, but I loved the solitude, the tranquility. I ran until the beach curved around, ending in a rock jetty that extended out into the water. I stood there for a few minutes watching the ocean waves break against the jetty, catching my breath before turning around to head back home. According to my Nike app the whole route was a little over five miles.
I was passing by Owen's bungalow when I noticed him outside standing at the railing, sipping a cup of coffee. He smiled and waved like the friendly neighbor he most certainly was not. I shot him the finger in return and kept running.
Since today was my first official day off since arriving on the island I decided to use the time wisely. After showering, shaving my lady bits and shimmying into a two-piece bikini, I scarfed down a bowl of Lucky Charms standing over the sink while filling up my travel coffee mug. I intended to spend today lounging on the beach, sun bathing, and reading cheesy romance novels with half naked Highlanders on the cover. Did I know how to have a good time or what?
I had been set up on the beach with my chair, coffee, cooler and Kindle for about an hour when Owen plopped down next to me in a chair. He was sporting another set of board shorts, in an appropriate setting this time, with no shirt. I had imagined what Owen's physique looked like a couple hundred (thousand) times, and had always assumed my imagination was fairly reliable. I mean, I can imagine quite a bit. As it turns out my imagination needed an upgrade.
Owen's expansive, muscled, tan chest was dusted with light blonde hairs that had me licking my lips in response. Forget a six-pack; the man had a twelve pack that ended in a sexy V, which disappeared beneath his board shorts like a treasure map pointing directly to the promise land. And don't get me started on his arms or legs; it just wasn't fair or natural for someone to look this good. I was pretty sure I was panting like a dog in heat at this point. I did a quick check to make sure I wasn't actually drooling, and my tongue was securely inside my mouth.
"You know, the FDA says tanning is bad," he said casually, leaning back in his lawn chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him.
"So is a gun shot to the knee cap, but you seem content to take the risk so I'll do the same." See I could be mature if I needed to. "Don't you need to go walk a raptor or relieve someone of their virginity?"
"Not today, I'm off. Barry's taking care of the girls, and I'm fine here harassing you," he responded, closing his eyes and putting on sunglasses.
"There's about 10 miles of untouched beach either direction you look. Are you really planning on sitting right here?" From his lack of response or effort to move I gathered that yes, this was exactly where he planned on staying. "Whatever."
I turned back to my book, choosing to just ignore him. Easier said then done when a guy who could easily grace the cover of GQ magazine was sitting a foot away. I tried to focus on my book, but my half naked Highlanders just weren't cutting it anymore. I turned off my Kindle with a huff, glancing at Owen from behind my aviator sunglasses to find him looking utterly unaffected by my presence.
Well, that sucked. I mean, I'm a pretty realistic person and understand where my strengths and weaknesses fall. I know I'm not a Victoria Secret Supermodel, but I thought I was rocking my string bikini with some swagger. After hearing Owen's soft snore ring out beside me I came to the conclusion my swagger needed some work.
I've never been more excited to hear my cell phone ring on a day off as I was in that moment. It was close to eleven, and I wondered who was calling me of all people.
"Hello."
"Jo, thank god, I wasn't sure you'd answer." Well now I definitely wished I hadn't. "I need a favor."
"No," I answered, contemplating simply hanging up on Hamada.
"Just hear me out Jo. Please, I'm desperate." He was almost whining now.
"Is that Hamada?" Owen asked beside me. Apparently this man was not the least bit affected by my prowess in a bikini, but was ready for action now that Hamada was on the phone. My self-esteem was tanking, big time.
"No," I lied to Owen.
"Hey, was that Owen? You're together? That's great, I could use him too." Hamada sounded like he'd consumed one too many energy drinks today. "Can you two come to the training arena on site at the park? We were supposed to cover some hand-to-hand combat today, but the instructor called in sick with the flu."
"That sounds awful Hamada, but as you probably already know, today is Saturday. It's my day off and I know for a fact I don't have hand-to-hand training on my agenda for today." Owen was now leaning over in his chair trying to hear Hamada's side of the conversation. I glared at him, leaning in the opposite direction.
"Jo, help me out. These guys need work and I can't do this by myself. Can you ask Owen if he'll come too?"
"Owen says no and so do I. Besides, what makes you think…" I didn't get a chance to finish my sentence as my phone was snatched out of my hand.
"Hey Hamada, it's Owen. What's up man?" I was in an alternate universe. That was the only thing that could explain Owen thinking he could take my phone out of my hand, and have a conversation with his back to me. "Sure thing. Give us about an hour and we'll be there."
Owen hung up the phone, tossing it back to me. I let it hit the sand with a thud as I stood there with my fists clenched at my sides simmering with barely contained rage.
"Better get dressed; Hamada's expecting us within the hour. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to conduct hand-to-hand training in that," he commented, pointing to my bathing suit.
Ouch. That stung a little. Was he insinuating me being around people in my bathing suit would be inappropriate? How bad did I actually look in this thing? I was tempted to stay in my bikini just to prove a point, but having my chest and ass half hanging out around a bunch of horny InGen recruits was less than appealing.
I took a step forward, invading his personal space, tipping my head back so I could see his face. I was ready to tear him a new one, but lost all rational thought when he closed the distance between us by taking a step forward. I swallowed a lump in my throat trying to hold tight to my anger like an anchor, but with him this close I was having a problem converting oxygen into carbon dioxide.
The hitch in his breathing told me he wasn't as unaffected by me as he appeared. I thanked my inner goddess for not completely abandoning me in my time of need. Apparently that slacker decided to go find my swagger after all.
"Get dressed Jo. We got a class to teach." Owen stepped around me, collecting his belongings from the beach heading towards his bungalow.
Great, I went from having a lazy day off at the beach reading Highlander smut to teaching hand-to-hand combat to InGen rejects with Owen. I stomped my foot like a child to express my displeasure, but no one was there to see it. This sucked.
I went inside throwing on a pair of long spandex pants that ended just below my knee, a sports bra and a tight, long sleeved Under Armor shirt. I threw my long hair into a bun on top of my head. If I really was going to be taking my ninja skills for a test drive my hair whipping around was a definite no-no.
I heard a horn honk outside as I stuffed my feet into my running shoes. I grabbed my Camelback on the way out descending the stairs towards Owen who was waiting in his Jeep.
"Didn't know you knew how to drive anything other than your bike." I'll be completely honest, I knew how much it pissed off motorcycle people when you called their motorcycle a bike. I wanted payback for Owen ruining my day.
"Motorcycle. A bike is something a kid rides." Ooh, someone had a stick up their ass when it came to their bike. Button successfully pushed. "Besides, if you want wrap your arms around my waist we don't need a motorcycle to do that."
The temperature in the Jeep ratcheted up about a million degrees, and I adjusted my air vent. Holy frijoles this man was lethal. "Just drive." He flashed me his 100-watt smile as he pulled out onto the dirt road heading towards the park.
We got to the park in about five minutes because Owen drives like a lunatic. As he parked, I pried my hand away from the 'oh shit' bar to climb out of the Jeep. I swallowed a lump in my throat, trying to keep my breakfast in my stomach instead of on Main Street.
"Doesn't bat an eyelash at a raptor, but loses her breakfast from a car ride. Interesting," he mused, walking past me towards headquarters.
"You drive like a demented Ms. Daisy! Your license should be revoked." I wanted to hurt him. Maybe hand-to-hand training wouldn't suck after all.
As we walked side-by-side towards the entrance Owen offered a 'hello' or a 'how ya doing' to just about everyone we passed. He knew everyone, and what was even more annoying was everyone knew him. He was probably voted Homecoming and Prom King too. I was suspended from school during my Homecoming, and because of that all the boys were too scared to ask me out to prom. At least, I hoped that was the reason.
We walked onto the elevator and Owen pressed the 'B' for basement. The elevator, once again, refused to move without a card swipe. Owen looked to me expectantly as I whipped out my ID scanning it.
"Mr. Grady doesn't have authorization to enter the basement?" I taunted sarcastically, covering my mouth at the scandalous implication.
"Of course I do, I just wanted to know if you did."
What a dick.
"You seem pretty popular around here," I remarked as we descended into the basement.
"Jealous."
Yes. "Hardly."
Thankfully the ride was short. We stepped off the elevator, and I followed behind Owen who apparently knew exactly where we needed to go. We weaved around all the supply cages before coming to a stop at a large open area.
The "training arena" was stocked with exercise equipment, weights, and even a little indoor obstacle course. The center was lined with mats which were currently occupied by about 20 InGen employees stretching in various groups.
"Wow, this place is better than 24 Hour Fitness," I commented in awe, taking in all the bells and whistles.
Hamada jogged up to us looking relieved we were finally there. I wondered how long these guys had been stretching.
"Thanks for doing this guys. I really appreciate," Hamada said, offering his hand to Owen.
"I missed the part where there was a choice," I huffed, folding my arms over my chest.
"Ignore her. What's the plan?" I really hopped the plan involved me kicking Owen's ass because that was a plan I could get on board with.
Hamada turned, and we all started walking towards the mats. I stopped at the edge, kicking off my shoes and placing my socks inside, Owen doing the same.
"I'm going to use you two to demonstrate several offensive and defensive maneuvers by the numbers while I explain it as we go," Hamada explained, glancing between Owen and me. "We'll then break them up into teams to practice with us monitoring and calling out adjustments as needed."
"Works for me. The faster we get going the faster I can get out of here," I said, shrugging.
Owen nodded and Hamada called the group together. The 20 InGen employees filled into two lines standing in front of Hamada, Owen, and myself. I recognized almost all of them from their files, and internally cringed when I saw more than a few I had told Hamada needed to go.
"Alright everyone knock it off, we're ready to get started. We are going to cover some basic and advanced hand-to-hand moves today. Owen Grady and Josephine King are going to assist." Hamada pointed over to us as he spoke. "Owen is former Navy and current trainer for the Velociraptor program."
I mentally high fived myself, I knew he was Navy. Everyone in the room looked impressed by Owen's resume and general overall demeanor. The man's persona inspired a fan girl reaction in almost everyone.
"Jo is former Army and F.B.I., and is overseeing security at the park. Listen to what they have to say because they know what they're doing," Hamada finished.
Owen was looking at me expectantly. We hadn't exactly exchanged war stories, and he seemed surprised to hear about my background. The look he was giving me definitely said "we will talk about this later". I smiled brightly at him, walking to the center of the mat.
Hamada began outlining some basic defensive tactics as Owen played offense to my defense in time with the explanations. I was trying really hard to concentrate on Hamada, and not the fact that Owen's hands were roaming all over my body. It was easier said than done when every time he touched me I swear I felt a sizzle on my skin. This was a special brand of torture. Owen knew how to move his body. I couldn't help but admire his brute strength coupled with flawless technique. I was biting the inside of my cheek so hard I was probably drawing blood trying not to think about all his "other" moves. Change the context of our positions from combat to sex and you'd have a rated R movie in a hurry. I said a quick thanks to anyone that was listening once Hamada broke the guys into groups so they could run through the maneuvers.
I made my way around the mats watching and correcting as I went. I stopped a few feet away from a pair who were obviously struggling. One guy appeared to have no training whatsoever while the other was insane arsonist who lived in his mother's basement.
Cole Rogers was about 5'11'' and built like a linebacker. He had no idea what he was doing, but since he was crazy and his opponent was clueless, he was pummeling him. Not the point of this exercise at all, but Cole didn't seem to care. He wasn't even pretending to attempt the moves Hamada had outlined. He just wanted to inflict damage on his partner. Why InGen hadn't drop kicked this guy off the island was troublesome. Apparently they valued brute strength and insanity over skill and good judgment.
Thankfully, the ass kicking was put to a stop as Hamada called the group together to go over yet another technique. This time I found myself standing with my back to Owen as he wrapped his large arm around my throat, hooking it under my chin. We were both sweating pretty good by this point, and I was acutely aware of how his sweaty, muscular body pressed up against mine.
My inner slut was panting with her tongue hanging out begging me to jump his bones right here in front of everyone just to put her out of her misery. I ignored her rampage, instead focusing on Hamada outlining how I was going to break the chokehold I was currently in.
"Just let me know if you need me to ease up here OK," Owen purred into my ear, pulling back against my throat with his arm. Every single inch of his body was firmly pressed into my back rendering me immobile. My hands were wrapped around his forearms trying to create space for my airway. Our height difference forced me to rise onto my tiptoes.
I felt a shiver rush down my spine as his deep, gravely voice washed over me. My inner slut had passed out from lack of oxygen at this point. I felt the smug bastard smiling at my reaction. Oh, it was on like Donkey Kong.
As soon as Hamada finished his explanation of how I was going to escape the chokehold I whirled into action. Fuck taking this one by the numbers. I slammed my heel down onto Owen's foot while simultaneously dropping down to lower my center of gravity. I rammed my right elbow hard into his abs, and had to suppress a groan of pain. I was convinced it may have hurt me more than it hurt him. Screw Owen and his eight minute abs of steel.
The reaction from Owen was immediate. He let out an "Ompf" as he lifted his right foot up, his body hunching over as he struggled to regain his breath. His arms loosened against my neck just enough that I was able to twist and duck releasing myself from his hold. His mind seemed to be catching up with his body now as he lunged for me with his left hand. I sidestepped his advance, using his momentum against him as I grabbed his outstretched hand, twisting it over my head as I dropped down to one knee.
Owen flipped over, landing on his back with a loud slap on the mat. The entire gym was so quiet you could've heard a mouse pissing on a cotton ball at 50 meters. I stood up walking over to where Owen was still laid out on the mat.
"Let me know if you need any help getting up, OK."
Hamada cleared his throat, hollering for everyone to pair up and get to work. I walked over to the side of the mats, retrieving a water bottle.
"That was mean," Owen said, grabbing a bottle of his own.
"You deserved it."
I walked off, making the rounds through the gym instructing. I was halfway around the room when I saw Cole struggling to break the chokehold he was in. I stopped in front of the pair, showing Cole his error by adjusting his hands and body.
"You are one fine piece of ass sugar. Let me know if you want a private session." It was official, I just threw up in my mouth. On the bright side, it looked like I was going to get to kick someone's ass today after all.
I stopped pivoting on my heel to face him. "What did you just say?"
Cole stopped sparring, standing directly in front of me leering. "I was just saying that if you ever want to blow off some steam I got about eight inches in my pants you can start with sweetheart."
Eight inches, yea, OK. Was this guy for real? In my experience men who felt the need to call out their measurements were normally suffering from pencil dick syndrome. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Owen abruptly stop what he was doing, making his way over to us. He looked mad enough to kill. I turned to leave; any man who lived in his mother's basement wasn't worth my time.
In my peripheral vision I saw Cole reach out to slap my ass. I spun around grabbing his hand where his thumb connected with his hand at a pressure point. I pressed as hard as I could on the pressure point, twisting his arm up and back.
He fell to his knees crying out, "You bitch! Let me go!"
I released his hand stepping back just as Owen planted himself in front of me bearing down on Cole like death himself. I could barely see Cole from behind Owen's broad back, but he was still yelling and screaming like a little girl.
"I suggest you calm down," Owen whispered at Cole, every muscle in his body taut and ready to spring into action if provoked. I had never heard anyone's whisper sound so menacing. It was scary. I took an involuntary step back.
"You landed a lucky shot. I guarantee you in a fair fight I would smoke your ass," Cole yelled, pointing at me. Owen made a move towards Cole, and I got the distinct impression this was spiraling out of control. Fast.
Officially done hiding behind Owen I moved forward, stopping next to him.
"You think you can take me Cole? Prove it."
Wowzers, the reviews are off the chain...I'm glad someone besides my kids like the story.
Saint-Brooke-Lynn: Jo lives on the struggle bus so I'm sure we will find out more about all that in due time. Hope you liked Owen having to pay up :)
Nik: Thanks! I love this story too.
Desert Vulpes Zerda: First off, much props on the user name...it's legit. Thanks for the review. Jo says the stuff out loud I only think in my head. Getting it on paper is like therapy for me except much cheaper.
PadawnCassy: I totally agree...those two crazy kids make me smile.
Mystery Guest #1: It's scary if Jo is the only voice of reason, right? Thanks for reviewing!
Mzfeebs: Thank you very much!
DarkFireAngel00: I love me some sexual tension, glad I'm not the only one :)