Page 22 of The Omega Trials: Part Two

4. “I Am the Fire” by Ghost Monroe

Chapter 8

That’s Hot

Bishop

The distinctive smell of rubber mats always takes me back to the time my brothers and I lived in a crappy one-bedroom apartment before we got the warehouse. It was shortly after our parents died, and we were just starting to get into alpha fighting rings. We couldn’t afford much furniture, so we filled the small living room, wall to wall, with old foam rubber mats a martial arts studio was getting rid of during a remodel.

When we weren’t laid up with broken ribs or arms—we broke a lot of bones in those early days—we were on the mat, practicing and sparring with each other. Even though we were mourning our parents and barely scraping by, scared to get any legitimatejob that would put us on the government’s radar, I look back at those times with fondness.

Sure, we lost more fights than we won. We dined and dashed more than a few times just to have something to eat. I got thrown out of several casinos and knocked around by security, not having yet mastered how to count cards without detection. We slept on mattresses on the floor, two twins crammed together that barely fit the three of us young, growing alphas.

Every loss, every victory, every long night and tired morning. We got through it together.

So, while grappling with Sinclair on the mat at the Estate’s gym feels totally different, there’s still something sweet and nostalgic about getting to create new rubber-scented memories with her. Not only is the old natatorium, with its mosaic tiling and expensive equipment, worlds apart from our sparse apartment, but the feel of Sinclair’s soft and lissome body twisting with mine has my heart racing for completely different reasons than when I’m wrestling with my brothers.

We’ve been working on getting out from under a mount where I have her straddled above the hips. With the right technique, it won’t matter that I’m bigger and stronger. She’ll be able to get out from under me.

We’ve been going at it for a while, and she’s breathing hard, cheeks pink and sweaty, as she blocks my strikes. Ecker is on his hands and knees next to us on the mat, coaching her through capturing my arm on my next punch.

I move to strike with my right, and she parries, shooting her arm out and clasping her hands behind my head, effectively trapping my arm. Using her legs and hips, she breaks down my base and rolls me onto my back with her in mount, the insides of her thighs squeezing my waist.

“Ah-ha!” Her face above me lights up as if she’s surprised she actually did it.

“Nice work,” Ecker cheers, standing up and clapping.

It must be my alpha nature because while I’m damn proud of her and love seeing how her eyes sparkle with a sense of accomplishment, I can’t help but lock my ankles around her waist and roll her right back over.

“Damn it.” She exhales and relaxes against the mat, not even trying to get out this time.

“Couldn’t help myself. There’s no prettier sight than my mate pinned under me and out of breath,” I tease.

Her lips quirk in a smile. “And here I was thinking you liked me on top.”

I chuckle and run a hand up her sternum to lightly collar her throat. The movement makes a light tingle of sparks dance through the bond. My stomach rolls with desire. I lean forward to whisper against her lips, “Only when you’re riding my cock, Omega.”

“If you two start fucking on the mat, don’t expect me to guard the door. I’m joining.” Ecker laughs. I know he’s joking—this time—but the idea of tearing her clothes off and fucking her here with him makes my balls tight and skin hot.

Sinclair rolls her eyes playfully then focuses back on me. “Okay, but what’s the point of rolling you over if it just puts you in position to roll me back over? Why not try to get out some other way?”

“There are other ways to do it, sure, but the main issue just now is that you weren’t expecting it. Tomorrow, we’ll show you how to break that closed guard position.”

“That’s when you have your legs locked around my torso?” she asks, and I nod.

I feel a sense of pride in her eagerness to learn and her work ethic. She doesn't need to do any of this—she has us to protect her. But I do love being able to teach her what I know and watch her grow and improve.

I turn to Ecker. “You know what, why don’t we just show you? Then we’ll be done for the day.”

I gesture to the mat with my head, and Ecker scoffs with a cocky grin. “Nah, you want me down there, you have to get me down.”

It takes a few moves, but I get him there eventually. Once on his back, he wraps his legs around my waist, locking his ankles behind me. He’s quick and strong, sitting up with a hip bump sweep to throw me onto my back and straddle me around the hips.

I exhale a punch of air when my back hits the mat. Ecker looms over me, his sharp eyes sparkling with a hint of gold. “Boo.”

Like electricity through a circuit board, Ecker’s tingling aggression rut makes a heat spark through Sinclair which then strikes me with a zing of lust and desire through the bond.

Ecker’s palms pin my bare shoulders, and Sinclair says breathily, “You guys look good together.”

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