Page 20 of Sucker Punch Drunk Love

The short answer was, my family didn't do enough family-ing to pass it down, but the long answer is, I was still a work in progress.

“I don't know, I guess I just didn't have a good or patient enough teacher. I told you what the situation was like with my mom. The woman was barely a mom, and I just got passed around from house to house after leaving hers. I was never anywhere long or safe enough to learn I guess.”

“Do you feel safe enough here?” he grinned.

“What?” I laughed.

“Are you fine with me speaking Spanish to you?” his dark eyes suddenly wide and curious.

“No, I don’t mind,” I said, as he met me with a playful shove.

“Cuz you know when I tease you, I’m not making fun of you. I just love speaking Spanish because some shit sounds better in Spanish, and I just like sharing that with you.” His expression genuine.

“I understand you the most when you speak slower to me,” I confessed, his face lighting up in a flirtatious smile.

“Pues, un poco más despacio?*? I can do that, but what I need from you is persistence. Cuz I'm forgetful. If I'm ever talking and I'm going too fast for you, just cut me off mid-sentence. Espérate, papi. Más lento. O despacito?*, and I'll slow down for you. Asslow,” he dragged that last part out. “As youneedme to.”

I didn't know why I felt the need to clench my thighs tight, but hearing him say anything in Spanish, I was ashamed to admit that was my kryptonite. As long as I kept my attraction to him at bay, we wouldn’t have any problems.

***

If there was a downside to this damn program coach had me on, it was these middles of the night wake-ups. My bladder runneth over with all the teas he had me drinking. Usually I went to bed fully clothed, but it was a hot night, and had just wanted to feel my legs. Heading to the bathroom, I didn't even bother putting any pants on, because I planned to be in and out, and judging coach's habits, he was usually one to sleep the night.

For the first time in my life, I was happy to be wrong, as when I reached for the knob, the door was already opening, Josue’s soaking wet, and might I add, verynudebody wason immaculate display, unashamed and equally impressive. Realizing that I was staring, I covered my eyes as he hummed a low laugh, walking by me to grab a towel to sling over his waist in the hallway closet.

“My bad, Medina. I didn't know you’d be up.” I could say the samethingabout him.

“I'm sorry. I just…” being unable to get the words out. Sensing my discomfort, he interrupted.

“Relax, kid. Go get some sleep.” Closing the door to the bathroom, I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I was a fighter. I had seen incredible physiques before, but my gawd, ones where the dick size matched the muscles was rare. Was he even fucking hard to be packing all that? Sad part was when I finally got around to emptying out, my kitty was fully moisturized, drenched from my arousal. One thing was certain, I needed to get my ass laid soon, or else sharing a space with my trainer was going to become hazardous. Now, I totally regret not putting pants on, but who even noticed when Coach had flashed me in all his glory?

After spending all that money on clothes today, you would think I would have been smart enough to have brought a vibrator. Heading back to my room, I picked up my phone, doing a foolish thing by heading to his IG page. Not just any post would do, it had to be a video. One where he was huffing and puffing, making all the sexy noises I associated with fucking. I just needed a release, and as long as it was this one time I was finally giving into this man being the star of all my fantasies, hope willing that itstayedthat way.

* Cook it and eat it.

* You have a very nice body. And a pretty face.

* Like, a little slower?”

* Wait daddy(papi is more colloquial in Spanish and can be used on someone of any age) Slower. Or go slowly.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Josue

Living with my mentee haddefinitelybeen an adjustment. You just had to say goodbye to peace, because your fighter being a woman just made it worse. I was waking up to bras air drying on door knobs, all her fucking makeup and nail polish scattered across my bathroom sink.

Don’t even get me started on the lingering smell of lavender all over my gym. I couldn’t go anywhere in the place without being reminded that she lived here.

But ¡coño! I'd be lying if I couldn't admit how drop dead fucking sexy she was. I hadn't even been into younger women. They were attractive, sure, but with what I was working with, I’d wear a younger woman out. A part of it was because they were too people pleasing. I liked a woman who told me no every once in a while, and called me out on my shit.

The younger they were, the more malleable they were, and as someone who valued the feeling of winning a challenging fight, there was a power in conquering what was harder to control. Sierra had me questioning my rule against pursuing fighters. I never indulged because I didn't believe in eating where I shit, but that had been more of a rival thing.

As a fighter, you were always so hyper focused onyourjourney, that it was hard to be supportive of someone else's. But now that I didn't compete anymore, I questioned how many beautiful and talented women had slipped through my fingertips.

I still couldn't believe how hard I'd gotten the first time she held me in a guard, or how I almost came on myself when she punched me. The more I let it consume me, the more I realized the desire wouldn't subside until I beat my dick like I was mad at it. Was that shit fucked up to be sexually attracted to that kind of rush?

Maybe I was confused, or maybe I was sick in the head. All I knew is my impulsion only got worse in the presence of a domineering woman. It didn't help that she walked around the house with her damn near ass out, looking thicker than some cake batter. I could think of a few places on her I'd love to see my batter land.Fuck, I needed some fucking restraint. Today we’d train and cut weight, and I couldn't be walking around all googly eyed like I'd never seen a woman with a nice body before.