Temper: Deference: Book One of the TEMPER Saga

by Lila Mina

  “Yes, Sensei!” Tim and Lana replied as one.

  She couldn’t help a shudder and straightened up. How does he even do it? We’re over thirty tonight and still, I always light up his radar. Do I suck so badly?

  “Well… you heard the boss! Fire away!” Tim said, rolling his eyes discreetly. “Seriously, can the guy be any scarier?”

  Lana went again at Tim with a more powerful strike. Her friend caught her forearm, and this time his general body movement was perfect. He grabbed her neck, and she saw nothing coming. She found herself again on her back in a blink, winded. Wow, his irimi nage is so smooth and fast now! Can’t wait to know how to do it like this.

  Jumping back onto her feet with a dangerous grin, her next attack was a frontal punch to Tim’s stomach. He sidestepped, caught her wrist at the same time and twisted it backward, the proper form for a kotegaeshi. Lana let herself fall down immediately to protect her joint and limb.

  For the next attack, she grabbed both his wrists. “You know how he is…” she whispered. “Old school and all.”

  To be honest, Honda’s attitude made her blood boil. He was right to demand efforts and dedication from everyone, but her Western upbringing rebelled against his unforgiving way of teaching. So Japanese. Such a strict hierarchy. But he had one thing going for him that she would never give to a spineless guy like Richard: her respect. That single bolt of steel that kept her anger in check where he was concerned.

  Tim pinned her on the ground, flat on her back, right arm in extension. Despite the pain shooting from her shoulder, elbow and wrist, she mock-punched him in the face from below, showing he had leaned forward too much. He rolled his eyes at his rookie mistake and muttered something unintelligible.

  Of course, Honda hadn't missed it. “Martin san, on your feet! Attack him faster, faster! Your timing is wrong, do it again, again, again!” Later, in his coldest and most terrifying voice: “Your feet! Again! What kind of fall is this? Wrong, correct it!”

  Bruises started showing up everywhere on her forearms where they collided with Tim’s. Despite the cold temperatures, sweat burned her eyes; her breath came out short and ragged, and there was no break in sight. Her comrades, and Tim in particular, were now glancing at her, not bothering to hide their worry.

  “Are you okay? What’s wrong with the guy?” Tim panted, getting more and more agitated. “That’s not how mudansha are treated!”

  Lana ground her teeth and shook her head, looking for her breath. Her burning lungs felt as if she had run a marathon. “Hush, don’t worry, it’s hard but fine!”

  Being on the blunt end of his criticism strained her nerves. But if she wanted to be truly honest, it bothered her more when he ignored her completely than when he ground her down. Need for attention much? Grow up girl. You ain’t fifteen anymore.

  Back on wobbling feet, she grabbed Tim's arm with both hands; he pivoted next to her and threw her away. Lana rolled forward and landed on her feet again, right in front of their instructor. Ugh, did he beam himself over here or what?

  Winded, she straightened up and craned her neck, meeting his eyes; Honda had a good head on her. His sheer physical presence played a role in the overall sense of respectful and fearful awe he generated. That and his impeccable technique, which sent the heaviest and most skilled students flying, and made the reputation of their dojo so prestigious.

  Something flashed on his unlined and tanned face. He held her stare longer than expected. Puzzled by his scrutiny, slightly out of breath, the shivers running down her spine startled her. But the impulse to reach out to touch his face was even more surprising. Out of nowhere, a blush crept up on her cheeks before she remembered dojo etiquette and offered him a belated, yet respectful bow. Thank goodness I’m already purple, with any luck he missed that.

  “Martin san,” Honda growled, and the fuzzy moment was gone. “Stop talking or leave and don’t come back. This is not a coffee shop. You and Johnson san are not focused enough. His technique is messy, and your roll was... barely passable.”

  Before she could react, he invaded her private sphere like he was more and more prone to do. He extended his hand for her to grab, and she obeyed out of pure reflex. It was cold, yet his skin was warm to the touch, with only strong muscles, sinew and bones under it.

  It was impossible to seize his large wrist properly with her smaller hand. Despite the rock-hard sensation, she couldn’t help but appreciate the softness of his skin. This wasn’t new. But until now, such contact hadn’t sent sparks shooting to her core. Careful, careful, slippery road here!

  She had no time to reflect on her reaction. Quick as lightning, he passed under her arm, turned, crouched down, took hold of her collar, and pressed her lower back with her own twisted arm before thrusting her away from him. A roll broke her fall, but it was another poor one, and she landed too hard on her back. It hurt like hell, but she gritted her teeth and stood up, hiding her irritation at his brusque way of proving his point.

  “Your shoulder is still breaking your fall, when it is your arm that should take it. Go over there. You will do forward ukemi until the end of this class.” Anger washed over Lana at what amounted to punishment in her eyes, but she did her best to hide it.

  “Yes Sensei, thank you for your explanation,” she said, her voice ice-cold. Cool down. Keep it together. You know how it works here. No talking back. Smooth face. Emotions under a tight lid.

  Still tense, she bowed to Tim to thank him for their intense sparring session and jogged to where Honda had pointed. Thankfully, there were only ten minutes left.

  Honda walked up to her side of the tatami. His looming presence couldn't be ignored, and the nice sensations flowing from her string of smooth rolls were a relief. Next on her to-do list: the spectacular high falls, the trademark of aikido. She’d get there. With bit more work.

  She got up at his feet and threw an upward look to confirm her self-appraisal was correct, but rod-straight, he stared off in the distance, checking on other people. His minute nod of approval quenched her burst of annoyance.

  By the time the session came to a close, her head buzzed and her stomach was queasy. She dashed to the washroom and threw up bile out of sheer exhaustion. After washing her mouth and face, she stared at her reflection in the mirror after brushing back her dark blond hair matted with sweat from her brow. She didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry.

  That was… intense all right. But I survived! I didn’t give up despite all he flung at me! I’ll show him, he’ll see I can take it.

  As she left the restroom, a commotion outside the dojo caught her attention. To her dismay, Tim and Honda were locked in tense confrontation.

  “Sensei, please! You need to calm down with Lana, she has done nothing to deserve this treatment!”

  “Enough! This is none of your concern.”

  “Of course, it is! She is my friend and kohai! It is also my duty to look after her, and you put her through hell!”

  Honda stepped closer to the younger man and towered over him. “I do not have to explain myself to you. This is for her own good.”

  Exasperated, Tim threw up his hands. “What? Oh, that’s just a joke!”

  Lana couldn’t stand it any longer. Making sure nobody else lurked around, she stepped outside and joined them. “Tim, calm down, there is no problem here,” she said in English, placing a calming hand on her friend’s shoulder.

  But he shrugged her off. “Have you even looked at yourself? You’re as white as a sheet, and your legs and hands are shaking. You don’t have the level yet!”

  With a happy and confident smile, she switched to Japanese. “It’s tough, but I can handle it. I… need this kind of conditioning to make real progress.”

  Bewildered, Tim stared at her. “You’re mad!” He turned to Honda. “Sensei, you should know better!”

  Honda had reached the end of his patience. Clearly trying to reign in his anger at the other man’s lack of respect, he narrowed his eyes at him. “Everythin
g falls well within her limits. I welcome her strong desire to progress.”

  Lana bowed with gratitude. “Thank you, Sensei. Tim, all is fine, okay?” Her friend threw her a piercing glare but her calm attitude seemed to convince him. He grumbled, bowed to their instructor in a less than stellar fashion, and left them.

  To her surprise, Honda made eye contact. Although his face was the usual blank mask that he favored, once again the intensity of his glare took her aback. “Stay behind for a while. There is something we need to address, you and I.” His clipped words left no place for discussion.

  Even though she longed for a hot shower and was more than a little hungry, Lana nodded, curious as to what this was about, and more than a bit anxious to clear the air.

  3

  Obedience and Respect

  After everyone had left, Lana joined Honda on the mats. As usual, he had folded neatly his hakama and sat now in seiza–the ‘correct’ Japanese way of kneeling so many adult Westerners find too difficult to adopt, legs underneath thighs, and buttocks resting on heels. This was his habit, but also what aikido etiquette required. Facing him, she mirrored his posture.

  “Martin san, let’s talk about your attitude, which is less than appropriate. There are basic rules in the dojo everyone is expected to follow, even foreigners.”

  Lana straightened, trying to smooth her face and hide her stupor at such criticism. “My apologies, Sensei, I never meant to cause offence. But I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

  Eyes narrowing, he leaned toward her. “This, for example. You should learn how to apologize the proper way.”

  She couldn’t help a frown. Apologize? For doing what?

  Time to play the language and culture card. Her professional Japanese was much better than her vernacular; it was easy for her to miss subtleties and hints.

  “I am truly sorry, Sensei, is it the words I use? I don't know all the proper expressions... please tell me what I should say?” Her tone was even and proper, but the situation was ridiculous.

  “No, not your words; your words are more or less fine. I am talking about your attitude. You are a student. A white belt. A woman. Twenty years younger than me. Bow! Lower. Your. Eyes! Don’t look at me directly and assume you may challenge me!” he bellowed, barely containing the booming earthquake in his voice.

  Unimpressed, Lana pinched her lips, and her fingers curled on her lap. The tension of her difficult day came back with a vengeance, sweeping away the benefits of their practice night. The man was infuriating but not the first to act like this with her. She led business negotiations every day with shark lawyers and hungry CEOs who assumed she was there to take dictation or serve them tea. She respected him, yes, but unconditional deference bordering on mindless obedience, because of who she was? Hell no.

  “Sensei…” The growl in her voice was loud. Without thinking, she copied his move and leaned forward, refusing to let him invade her space with impunity. She could see now his quick pulse beating in his neck. Much too close for propriety, but they had other priorities.

  His body heat washed over her, and she repressed a furious urge to inhale his scent. Come on, focus girl, now is not the right time for that!

  “Yes, you are my sensei, and I should express my respect better, I guess. But I wouldn’t grovel in front of my father, nor my husband, if I had one, and certainly not my boss. So, why should I do it with you?”

  Lana knew she was out of line. She was supposed to nod and keep quiet. There was no valid excuse for talking back to your instructor or even your senior in Japan. A great example of cultural clash, but it was one of those days where she had to draw a line against cultural adaptation. I shouldn’t be the only one making the effort here, he could also be a bit more understanding and flexible, dammit!

  Honda’s eyes blackened, and his next move caught her unprepared. With one hand, he grabbed the jacket of her dogi and pulled her easily to him, nostrils flaring; he was as strong as an ox and had decades of martial arts training under his belt. With a strangled yelp, Lana caught herself on his arm and leg to avoid crashing onto his lap.

  Of course, she should have tried one of the dozen techniques she had learned to free herself, but she had no chance against him. Her mind wandered off track again at such close contact. My goodness, it’s not just his arms that are hard. That thigh is as solid as marble. How would it feel if –

  “This is unacceptable,” he rasped, face inches away from hers. “Don’t think natural skills and even less a pretty face can absolve you from your duties. You will not get a pass simply because you are not Japanese. You will learn your proper place in relation to me!”

  She snapped back to the problem at hand, forgetting her ridiculous train of thought and overlooking his awkward compliment. The nerve of the guy! He had a temper for sure, but this was something else. It was ridiculous to ask this of her! Foreigners weren’t supposed to master the art of ‘mutual relation positioning’.

  Social hierarchy between people in Japan, and the etiquette rules that differed in every relationship, even among family members, were much too complex to learn if you were not taught them from birth. This was outlandish.

  A storm of frustration and exasperation, and something else she refused to name, snapped the last threads of her self-control.

  “Really? And what is this place then? Please teach me because this silly little girl can’t figure it out by herself…” she retorted with the low, calm voice she used with challenging clients.

  Did she hear an actual growl coming from deep inside him? And was it only anger burning in his eyes? Her breath caught, eyes widening as realization struck. No way! Is he also…?

  Still clutching her jacket, Honda jammed Lana on her back with one swift move, even though her legs were still under her. She yelped and slammed the mats with her open palm, requesting release. But against every rule, he did not relent, far from it. The next second, he was over her, one hand on each arm, a knee between her thighs.

  “Here. Under me,” he hissed, panting hard, eyes staring at her mouth.

  There were ways to get out of his hold, but the feeling coiling in her stomach stopped her from trying.

  Lust.

  It was now evident in Honda’s eyes too, but Lana didn’t believe their confrontation would resolve peacefully.

  What a particular way to make the first move! But who cares? This guy is one fine piece of alpha male, and angry sex… well, that’s the best legal drug out there. But boy, you don’t know who you’ve got under you. You’re going to have to fight and show me your secret moves to keep me here! Not everybody gets to make me submit in bed.

  Lana growled in return and bucked her hips, which ground him against her even more. It was the first time she felt a real sense of his weight and mass, and as fit and strong as she was, her full strength would not be able to handle it.

  The tension running in his arms and neck, his hard panting, showed how much he struggled to keep himself in check. As infuriating, angry and aroused as he was, Honda was an honorable man and would not force himself upon her; her consent had to be crystal clear.

  “I see,” she kept cool and quirked an eyebrow as if they were chatting over coffee. Lack of shouting and wriggling would show him she was considering playing his game. She raised her head as much as her position allowed and whispered in his ear. “But what do you plan to do to keep me here willingly? Please be… convincing,” she hissed before biting his earlobe.

  A grunt passed his lips. He released one of her hands to catch her throat and bring her back to the ground. His grip was light enough that she could breathe, but it was a warning.

  “I will show you, and then you will give me true obedience.”

  With a sharp intake of breath, she locked eyes with him. “I swear I will, but only if you make me beg,” she rasped.

  Months later, she’d wonder why the earth hadn’t shaken or lightning struck when she had spoken those fateful words.

  Honda’s body relaxed
as if her pledge untied a knot inside him. He thrust his thumb into her mouth. She licked it without breaking eye contact, a devilish smile fleeting on her lips. She was pushing it; she was trying her best to position herself as his equal in their tumbling game, and it was bound to make him even more frustrated and angry. This could actually be a lot of fun.

  He brought his lips just over hers. “Oh, when I am done with you, you will. You will call me goshujin sama,” he vowed with the first smirk of the evening.

  Her eyes widened. He had used the highly traditional word for ‘one’s lord’ or… ‘one’s husband’. That was pushing this game a little too far! But there was no time to come up with a witty reply. His mouth crashed on hers, his tongue invading her. He was rough; he was overwhelming; he went for the kill. But because the goal was to make her beg for more, he was also systematic.

  Busy kissing her roughly, Honda untied her belt and pants, opened her jacket and pushed everything away to get plenty of access to her body. His hand wasted no time fondling her clit and pushing two thick fingers inside her. They slipped in easily as she was already wet, aroused by their verbal sparring. She couldn’t help a low moan escaping into his mouth.

  Still, Lana refused to relent. Granted, this had been a typhoon months in the making, but a pledge, her word, was at stake. She wouldn't offer him his prize on a plate. She launched herself in a battle of tongues to see if she could invade him in turn. Her hand grabbed his dogi lapel to pull herself up against him, to show him her matching desire, but also to get access to his skin.

  His free hand pulled on her hair. Lana's abs screamed, the only muscles keeping her up. She ignored the discomfort. There were many more important things than pain at this moment.

  His hand left her wet pussy to untie his own dogi pants. His hardness pressed against her entrance. Lana opened her legs as much as she could. Honda twisted her hair, broke their kiss and sunk his teeth into her neck. At the same time, he slipped into her.

  Lana cried out, both in pain and pleasure. He was thick and long, hitting deep spots inside her. She let go of him and arched her back, giving him more access. Her fingers caught his sleeve; she twisted it hard to hold on to something. Her other hand landed on his chest, and gripped it, not caring if she hurt him. Given these new aspects of his personality he was showing her, pain had to be at least manageable, if not arousing.