She moves to get out of the bed and looks at me. "Let's start. I'm excited to learn some superhero moves." She punches at the air and bounces around on her feet like she's trying to be a boxer.
I get up from the bed. "Easy there, tiger. You don't want some breakfast or coffee first? I don't know about you, but I could use a sweet, sweet cup of coffee right about now."
She sighs. "I guess for coffee I can wait. It is the nectar from the gods after all."
I laugh. "See, I knew we had more things in common. We both love coffee. I don't trust people who don't like coffee. Not when it's so good."
Gwen spins on her heel and goes to turn on the lights before turning off the TV. She looks at me. "I'll pick the music, you fix the coffee?"
I nod. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."
I head for the kitchen. I wish I could make her see that she's beautiful and not repulsive at all. Her scars don't make her ugly, they show what she's been through. I have scars, too, she's just never seen them. If someone calls her repulsive because of something she can't control, then they'll be on the receiving end of my fist. How dare anyone make her feel ugly. She's a kind soul that doesn't deserve that kind of treatment. If I was sixteen years younger, I would be making love to her right now, putting Tom Hiddleston to shame with my moves.
* * *
With coffee in our systems and the furniture moved out of the way we have a little space to spar with one another. It's not the ideal training location. I would love some mats to train on, but until I can be certain that no one will find her from it, I can't take her somewhere else to train her. Once her death has circulated and people stop looking for her, then I'll be able to train her the right way. Depending on how fast she learns it could take three to six months to teach her the basics. That's just general defense and being able to throw someone double or even triple her weight. I doubt she'll want me in her life forever once she gets a taste of freedom, so I want to make sure she knows how to take care of herself.
"First we're going to stretch," I say as we face each other. I forgot how much room this place can have when the bed is put up against the wall with the drawers stand against it and the sofa has been moved into the kitchen. We won't be able to get food or go to the bathroom while it's in there, but not having it in here gives us a lot more room to move around.
She cocks her head to the side. "Really? For this? I won't have stretched beforehand if someone attacks me outside."
I lift an eyebrow. "You should stretch every day, even if you don't plan on working out or going outside. It keeps your body limber. Trust me, you'll thank me when you get older."
With a sigh, she begins to follow my example and we work on stretching everything out. She's in one of her oversized knitted sweaters, and it's already warm down here with the heater keeping out the chill from above. It's supposed to be snowing today.
"You should take off that sweater, you're going to overheat with the layers I know you wear."
She stiffens. "I'll be okay."
I shake my head. "I don't want you getting sick. Please take it off. Your scars don't bother me. I have scars, too."
A deep frown pulls at her lips. "No, you don't. you look like a god, your arms are free of scars, I don't even see a tattoo on you."
I don't hesitate to pull my shirt off. If she needs proof that I'm not perfect then I'm willing to show her. I don't want her thinking I'm perfect when I'm far from it. Taking off my shirt reveals the deep, faded gash that goes from under my pecs down the center of my body and cuts through my navel. Several smaller ones litter the area around it. I'm not one for wanting to look at my scars either. They bring back that day, as I'm sure hers do for her as well. But there comes a time when we can't always hide our past.
She steps closer to me, she almost looks like she wants to touch it but draws back her hand before it can come close. Part of me wants her to, so I can feel her touch against my skin, but that's a slippery slope. It's one thing to be hands-on to train her. I think I can keep myself in the mindset of an instructor role.
"What happened?" She looks up into my eyes before her gaze goes to my stomach again.
I lift a brow. "Do you want the truth, or what I tell women who don't know what I do for a living?"
"The truth, of course."
"When I was first starting and being trained by my dad and Cason. I got cocky. I'd wanted to go after the big game by myself, no one shadowing me, or helping out. I was barely your age and stupid. The man I was supposed to hit had guards. They captured me and tortured me to find out who sent me. I'd tried my best to fight them but lost. They'd begun the process of gutting me when Cason and my dad found me and took them out. I nearly died. But they hadn't had a chance to pull my organs out, so I just barely made it. I was in a private hospital for three weeks, and it was a long time after that before either of them trusted me enough that I wouldn't put myself in that kind of situation again."
Gwen stares at me for a long second before she sighs and pulls the sweater off, I swallow hard, I know the sight of her doing such a thing shouldn't turn me on, but she's being open with me, and putting herself out there when she doesn't have to. I saw her scars the day she was shot. She'd been down to her bra. I'd felt a pull to protect her, but now I feel that pull again, and I want to kiss away her pain.
"What's the story that you tell women who don't know your secret life?"
I lick my lips as I keep my gaze trained on her face, knowing if I let my gaze travel over her like I want to do will make her more self-conscious. "I tell them I had an intestinal blockage and they had to cut me up like that to get it out."
A snort leaves her "And they believe that? That scar is way thicker than a surgeon would leave behind. I've seen those reality doctor shows, that's not how they cut. Did that happen while you were dating your deaf girlfriend?"
I shake my head. "Just after she left me, which is probably another reason I was stupid. I was pissed another man took her from me, but what I didn't take into account then was that she was probably happier with someone who was deaf like her because he could understand things that I couldn't since I can hear."
"Well, I suppose I should thank her. Without her, you wouldn't have a clue what I'm saying, and everything would have to be written down." She takes another step toward me, her gaze travels over my body, and my cock stirs. I've gotten laid when women look at me like that.
I can't give into my lustful thoughts. It's just getting to me because we've been down here together for several days. She's a woman and I'm a man, it makes sense that eventually our minds would go there. I chance a glance at her body. The white t-shirt she wears hugs her body. She's gaining some curves, and her breasts have gotten bigger. Her hard nipples poke through the material. She's not wearing a bra.
