Page 171 of Captive Omega

Garrison has a breakfast meeting with the prosecutor, and Vaughn has a call with the Ever Safe staff to find out if there’s been any more trouble. So it’s just me, Resa, and the tight gray leggings and tank top set she’s wearing.

As she crosses the black mat toward me, her long dark hair, held back in a ponytail, brushes her bare shoulders. And her scent… shit. This was a mistake.

She stops a foot away and flashes me a smile. “Sorry I’m late. Lex bought me more clothes and my drawer exploded when I opened it. Where do you want me?”

I have all the wrong thoughts. Every single one of them would get my mouth washed out with soap by my mother if she were still alive.

Since these self-defense lessons started, I’ve been having increasing difficulties controlling one particular body part.

It’s been five years since I had sex, and it was with Lia, a beta woman that Vaughn, Garrison, and I shared. Even though I’m almost positive Violet had a crush on Garrison when she first arrived, she was more of a sister to us than a potential lover.

Lia was a sweet redheaded beta. She was pretty, appealed to us, but she didn’t want permanent. Neither did we. She didn’t mind having fun with us until her forever and ever love appeared. Which made her perfect. We wanted the same thing.

Then Lia met the love of her life. We broke things off with no hard feelings and then the car crash happened.

Since then, we’ve spent the last several years fracturing.

Some of those fractures are slowly healing, and it has everything to do with this beautiful woman standing in front of me.

A woman who must be getting fed up with me silently staring at her. “You look nice.”

I want to shrivel up into a ball at how pathetic I sound. Nice? What happened to my ability to talk to a woman?

Resa glances down at herself, her cheeks turning pink. “Uh, thanks. It’s just another overpriced outfit. I’m never sure if it’s Lex or Garrison who has the expensive taste.”

“Garrison,” I say, relieved she’s not laughing at my awkwardness. “He doesn’t believe in false economy. Buy the best you can first time rather than buying cheap twice. He doesn’t like shopping, so…”

What the fuck are you rambling about? Tell her she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen and then spend the rest of the day researching how to talk to a woman without sounding like an idiot.

Her cheeks get even more pink, and I’m not sure why. “Uh. I guess that makes sense.”

I study her bent head, pondering the source of her embarrassment as she shuffles from foot to foot.

Then I shake my head. “Are you ready to start?”

She stands taller, cheeks still pink, and waits. Presumably for the instructions I’m not giving her.

Those instructions are going to involve putting my hands on her when my pants are already tight. I recall the state I was in after the last self-defense lesson and how useless a cold shower was. With no Vaughn to serve as a buffer, how long can I hide her effect on me?

“You look like you don’t want to do this,” Resa says.

“I do,” I assure her, making no move to start this lesson I promised her.

She doesn’t look convinced. “I can wait for Vaughn to show me if it’s uncomfortable for you. Maybe we could just talk.”

My eyebrows must touch my hairline. “You want to talk to me?”

“About as much as you want to go through with this self-defense lesson,” she sighs, folding her arms. “But I think we need to.”

I point my chin at the black punching bag hanging from the ceiling in the room's corner. “How about a boxing lesson instead?”

Her expression brightens. “I get to punch the bag?”

I smile, nudging my glasses up when they slide down and wondering at the intensity of her stare. “You do. Come on. I’ll wrap you up.”

When she doesn’t move, I realize how that must sound. “The gloves. Not you.”

Her eyes narrow.

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