[A/N: Guys I apologize for writing something like this... but I really wanted to write such thing between Aisha and Amon. Guess my emotions and body take over me. Sigh... well enjoy it for now... once Arnold and Amon goes on mission I don't know how long they will be away from each other.]
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"Just sit in the cross-leg position," he said, voice low. "I'll start with your shoulders first."
Sparring platforms they had chosen were separate with seats around the floor for people to watch. Of course it was empty right now.
So no one was here to question.
Aisha nodded and sat cross-legged on the soaring floor, her tall frame folding with easy grace.
The navy crop top clung to her, the fabric stretched taut across the heavy swell of her breasts, stopping just short of her navel so that a strip of firm, lightly muscled midriff remained bare.
Black trousers hugged the powerful lines of her thighs and hips; her boots rested neatly to one side.
