by Dawn Jansen
Realizing that her strength is in her reaction time, I decide to flip things around on her and wait for her to strike first so that I can counterattack. We maneuver around each other for a bit, and I can tell she’s trying to time my steps, looking for the perfect opportunity to strike, so I switch to southpaw to throw her off.
Thinking she has my pattern down, she launches her next attack, starting with a feint of her own—she changes what seems like it’s going to be a kick into an elbow strike at the last second, and I just barely manage to sidestep out of the way. That’s when I see my opportunity; I use the momentum of her elbow strike to throw her to my right, placing my foot in her path at the same time, hoping to send her tumbling through the air.
To my surprise, however, she hops over my leg sweep, almost as though she knew it was coming, and uses my own strength against me, sending me tumbling onto my back instead. I get the wind knocked out of me as I hit the mat.
“Normally I’d be pissed for losing to a girl, but that was good,” I say, lying on my back catching my breath.
She gives me a weird look. “It’s the 80s, dude. Girls kick ass now too. Get over it.”
The buzzer rings.
“That’s it for today!” Mr. Scholz yells. “Hit the showers.”
Mazzy offers me a hand and helps me get up.
“Where’d you learn to fight?” she asks, taking off her gloves. Now that she’s not my opponent anymore, I get a chance to really take in her sexy bod glistening with sweat. She’s even hotter than I first realized.
“Southeast LA. You?”
“I did some Taekwondo tournaments growing up,” she says, wiping sweat from her brow. “But I didn’t start putting it all together until I got here. Mr. Scholz knows his stuff.”
Even when I’m not actively using my power, I can still read people incredibly well, and I can tell Mazzy has something on her mind.
“Well, I’m gonna go change,” I say, hoping she’ll just spit out whatever she wants to say by making her think I’m about to go. In actuality, I wouldn’t mind talking to her all day long, cause I’d never get tired of scoping out her rockin’ bod.
“Wait,” she says suddenly. Bingo. “I heard you can, like, know everything there is to know about somebody. I mean your power.”
“Yeah, among other things. What of it?”
“I... need your help,” she says seriously. “I had amnesia when I was eight. I don’t remember anything from before then, but I need to figure out what happened. Do you think you could help me?”
My first reaction is to ask her what’s in it for me, but then I take another look at her—tight waist, seductive eyes, flowing blond hair. Yes please. There’s something hot about a girl that could possibly kick your ass, too. It’s not something I’ve encountered living it up in LA the past few years (most of the women I seduced were rich cougars). Maybe I’ll see what this Mazzy chick has to offer the D-man.
“Of course,” I say with a smile.
She looks surprised that I’d agree so easily. What she doesn’t know is that in order for me to get that deep inside somebody’s head, we need to get close—like, really close—but I don’t plan on telling her that just yet.
“That’s great,” she says enthusiastically. “I have to go to tutoring now, but I’ll be free around five. What’s your room number? I’ll come find you.”
I tell her my room number and then we each head to our respective locker rooms.
Three days in and I’ve already got a date with the hottest girl at the Academy? Just another day in the life of Damien Myers.
Chapter 12
Paul
Mazzy’s hair is still wet when she comes into the little room in the library where we meet for tutoring.
She’s five minutes late, but I don’t care; not only because this isn’t anything formal, but also because she pretty much doesn’t need the tutoring anymore.
In terms of theory, she’s proved herself to be a quick learner, and she’s up to speed on all the basics of how powers work already. And in terms of actual application, Mazzy has actually become the center of attention at the Academy recently for showing such rapid progress in using her powers. She started off only able to bend a few simple objects, but now she can cause some serious damage. I’m actually somewhat proud of her, though I’m not sure how much of her newfound control is thanks to me.
“Sorry I’m late,” she says as she sits down. With just the two of us in the small room, her freshly sweet aroma fills my nostrils, and something inside me perks up. “Just finished sparring. Kicked the new kid’s ass,” she adds with a smile.
As much as I’ve tried to prevent it from happening, there’s no doubt that Mazzy and I have gotten closer since we first met. Nothing sexual has happened between us, but we’ve just kind of naturally become friends.
“I’ve been wondering lately,” Mazzy says, “what do you think they’re gonna have me doing once I graduate anyway? Everybody kinda has a special role, right?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure about you though. Even though you’re getting pretty good with your powers, you’re still just in the beginning stages. There might be a lot more you can do that you don’t know about yet.”
“Think we’ll be in the same squad?” she asks.
“You wouldn’t want that,” I say with a sardonic chuckle. “You’ve got a bright future ahead of you. I’d only just bring you down.”
Mazzy’s expression suddenly turns serious. “Paul, I’ve been thinking about that...” She moves her seat closer to mine. What is she up to?
“I think I’ve figured out how to help you,” she says, looking unwaveringly into my eyes.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, already feeling myself getting defensive. “Help me with what?”
“Oh, come on, Paul,” she says with a sigh. “You know what. Everybody says you used to be amazing before the Test. And I know you still have that inside you somewhere. There’s no reason you should be beating yourself up like this just because of one mistake...”
I look down at the ground. I wasn’t expecting her to say anything like that, and I’m not sure how to respond. I feel a bead of sweat roll down my temple.
Mazzy puts a hand on my knee. The warm sensation sends a wave of excitation right into my groin, tickling at my manhood that’s already semi-aroused from Mazzy’s scent filling the tiny room. This is the first time she’s done anything like this to me, though I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been fantasizing about it for a long time.
“I think...” Mazzy pauses. She seems to be searching for the words she wants to say. “I think you just need somebody to love you, Paul. I know now how important love is to our ability to use our powers.”
She’s right. Just her touch upon my thigh is already causing a chain reaction throughout my body that’s pulling my power—and my horniness—out of its dormant state.
“You don’t understand, Mazzy,” I say, using all of my strength to keep myself from scooping her up in my arms and embracing her. “I don’t want to risk exposing myself to that pain again...”
“I know,” Mazzy says. “And I can’t image how it feels to lose somebody you love so much, but does that mean you’re going to shelter yourself away for the rest of your life? And then what? They’re gonna make you take the Test again sooner or later, Paul,” she says, her voice filled with emotion.
I’ve been trying to avoid Mazzy’s gaze this whole time, but now I turn my head up to look at her, and as soon as I do, I know that I’ve lost; I can’t keep myself away from her anymore.
Giving in to the incredible urge rising up inside me, I reach for the back of Mazzy’s head and pull her in for a kiss. She’s eager to meet my mouth, and I feel her damp hair against the back of my hand as I experience the first act of intimacy I’ve had with anybody in well over a month.
Neither of us willing to part from the others’ lips, Mazzy moves from her chair to my lap, straddling me. My throbbing erection immediately settles into the mou
nd between her legs, and even though we’re still fully clothed, the ridge of my cock sinks nicely into the warm slit just beneath her panties.
This is the first time I’ve had to navigate this kind of activity since losing my arm, and that’s when I feel the first pang of doubt echo inside me. My missing arm is like a reminder of my failure, and it takes me out of the moment. I break away from our kiss. Both of us are panting hard and Mazzy is still on my lap.
“Wait,” I say.
Mazzy looks confused. “Why did you stop?” she asks.
“Mazzy, I like you, but...” It’s proving difficult to find the right words with my boner about to burst through my pants and Mazzy slowly rubbing her body against mine.
“Just let it happen, Paul,” she says, putting a finger on my lips to shush me. “Don’t you feel it? Your power re-awakening?”
I take a quick look out the window of our room to make sure nobody is watching. The library is normally pretty dead at this time of day, and we wouldn’t be the first students caught getting down in the library, but I guess I’m just looking for any excuse to hit the brakes on what’s happening.
Mazzy is right though. My power is reawakening. Ever since Starla died, I have been able to call my power using anger, fear, frustration, but never positive emotions. Now, though, as Mazzy and I are unleashing our intimacy, it feels like feeding my energy with something it’s been starved of for a long, long time. It’s begging me to give it more, but I don’t know if mentally I can allow that.
Mazzy has slid off of my lap and is now kneeling in front of me, looking up at me seductively from between my legs.
“When’s the last time you let this beast out of his cage?” Mazzy asks, rubbing my conspicuous bulge. She gives it a light bite over the fabric of my pants, triggering a jolt of sexual energy that engorges my shaft even more. The head is now pressing desperately against my waistband.
I’m almost paralyzed with arousal now. Logically I don’t want this to happen, but my power and my heart are fighting to override my brain—my power wants to be unleashed again, and my heart wants to feel that connection it has been deprived of for so long—so that all I can do is watch in a state of inner conflict as Mazzy slides the zipper of my fly down and frees my erection.
“So super strength gives you a super cock too?” she says with a sexy smile, wrapping one of her hands around my throbbing dick, unable to grasp it fully.
Mazzy turns her stare from my eyes down to my cock and examines it lustily, as though it’s an ice cream cone and she can’t decide where to take the first lick.
That’s when, out of the corner of my eye, something grabs my attention. I notice something sticking out of Mazzy’s bag that she dumped on her seat—it’s a Fantastic Four comic, and upon realizing that, my heart sinks. Fantastic Four was Starla’s favorite comic. It’s a painful reminder of Starla’s absence, and with that comes a torrent of emotion that puts me into a panicked state. Mazzy is a good girl. I know she likes me, and she honestly wants to help me, to make me better. But she doesn’t realize what she’s doing. If we end up bonding, they’ll put us together during the Test. The path we’re on now is just a one-way ticket to Mazzy’s death.
“Stop!” I say forcefully just as Mazzy is about to introduce my pulsing cock to the sanctuary of her hot little mouth. She looks up at me, shocked and somewhat hurt, but I know I have to be decisive. “You don’t get it, Mazzy,” I say as I zip up my pants and shove all my books into my backpack hurriedly, making sure to avoid eye contact with Mazzy.
Mazzy doesn’t say anything. I know she was making herself vulnerable by taking the initiative, and by running away like this now I’m probably guaranteeing she’ll never talk to me again. And while that’s exactly what I want, it still feels wretched.
Part of me wonders if I’m making a big mistake, but the damage is already done. I stop when I reach the door, turning around one last time. Mazzy’s been silent this whole time, and I want to explain myself to her. I don’t want her to think this is her fault.
“I’m damaged, Mazzy,” I say. She’s still kneeling where she was, staring solemnly out the nearby window. I think I see tears in her eyes. “If you get wrapped up in my life, you’re gonna get hurt, just like everybody else who’s ever gotten close to me.”
“You’re wrong,” Mazzy says, turning to look at me finally. Tears are rolling down her cheeks, and I feel my heart crack a little bit more. “I believe in you, Paul. Why can’t you believe in yourself?”
“It’s not as easy as you think it is, Mazzy. I can’t just sleep with somebody and get my powers back. My heart has to be in it too, and... it’s just not,” I say, thinking back to the Fantastic Four comic that triggered this whole reaction. If all it takes is one look at a comic to make me flip out, it’s pretty obvious that I’m in no position to really accept somebody into my heart again.
“I’m sorry, Mazzy,” I say and then step out the door, closing it quietly behind me.
I let out a big sigh and force myself to forget about the image of Mazzy kneeling there on the floor after I rejected her.
As I walk through the library, my power is twisting and turning inside me. I’ve never felt it like this before—like it has a mind of its own; like it’s become sentient. It’s not happy.
Kissing Mazzy and getting intimate with her just now must have reawakened a part of my power that’s always been dormant before this. I suppose it’s possible; having only ever been with Starla before this, my power was only ever attuned to hers. But Mazzy is an entirely different person, and her powers are formidable, to say the least. It’s not impossible that her energy could have awakened something new inside of me, and whatever it is, it’s not happy with my decision to leave Mazzy.
Exiting the library, I head to Test Chamber Alpha. This new source of power inside me is pissed off, and I need to go let it blow off some steam.
Chapter 13
Mazzy
Even though I just took a shower, I feel dirty.
“Just let it happen, Paul.” Ugh. I must have sounded like some kind of sexual predator. Maybe Paul was right to reject me.
I thought for sure he would have welcomed my coming on to him. For one thing, it’s painfully obvious there’s chemistry between us, and it’s only been growing over time. I knew there was no way Paul would make the first move—given all the shit he’s been through recently—but still, I didn’t expect him to have such an intense reaction. He actually seemed to be getting into it at one point too.
And besides, now that I have firsthand experience with using love to awaken somebody’s powers, it seemed like a surefire way to help Paul.
Am I thinking about it the wrong way? Maybe he doesn’t need “help,” or at least not from me. But he said it himself too: he’s “damaged.” So why doesn’t he want to get better?
I have to be honest—it hurt. It’s the only time I can remember coming on to a guy and being rejected, so it’s hard not to let it sting my ego. There’s even a little part of me that isn’t so sure about the whole polygamy thing either. I know Tristan said it was okay, but it’s new territory for me, and my first foray into the world of multiple lovers was pretty much a disaster.
So much for my tutoring buddy, I guess. I have no idea what my relationship with Paul is going to look like from now on. Does Walmart sell “Sorry for sexually harassing you” cards? I’ll have to figure that out later, because now I have to get to Damion’s room.
Damion is a guy I can’t get a read on at all, but wow is he painfully gorgeous. It’s almost distracting sometimes. My first impression of him was that he’s totally condescending and arrogant (being ridiculously good-looking can make people that way), but he seemed very willing to help me figure out my amnesia, so maybe I was being too judgmental.
Part of me wonders if it’s a terrible idea letting a stranger into my memories like I’m about to do with Damion. Mr. Ward was one thing, but he’s a teacher at the Academy, so I figured I could trust him. Whatever the risk i
nvolved, though, I’m willing to take it if it means I can find out about my past and therefor whatever is happening with my power that makes it turn dark and insidious every time it grows too strong. Not only will resolving this mean I get access to my full power, but it also means I’ll be able to have sex with Tristan without turning into a monster or something.
It’s about six in the evening when I knock on the door to Damion’s dorm room. I’m somewhat nervous, but most of all excited that this might work.
Damion opens the door in a red bathrobe, his brunette hair messy and wet from the shower. I can’t help but just stare at him blankly—I thought he looked good in his gym outfit, but he looks even better with the opening of his bathrobe going almost down to his belly button. He’s in great shape, with a build that puts him somewhere in between Paul’s Hercules physique and Tristan’s slim, sinewy musculature, and the chest tattoo partially hidden by his robe adds a touch of danger to his looks. I have a soft spot for bad boys, as that was the type I attracted the most growing up.
“Sup,” he says lazily, reminding me that I’m supposed to do something other than just ogle him.
“Hey. Oh, you take showers too?” and then wince as I realize how braindead of a thing that was to say.
“Uh, yep,” he says with one eyebrow raised, evidently underestimating my ability to be a doofus sometimes. “Come in,” he adds, moving back inside. I step in and close the door behind me.
His room is actually quite different from mine, which goes to show that this mansion wasn’t originally built as an academy meant to house students.
Damion grabs some clothes off his bed and then steps behind a folding screen with Chinese ink wash patterns on it to change.
“How was tutoring?” he asks from behind the screen. The sound of clothes ruffling makes it impossible for me not to imagine him naked.
“Terrible,” I say bluntly, provoking a chuckle from Damion.
“What happened?” he asks, followed by the sound of a belt buckle, which prompts me to imagine that bit of anatomy below his waistline.
