Page 8 of Steel Rain

"It's not about having a weak side," I shook my head. Had she never had a coach before? How had she gotten here? "It's about how that weak side manifests."

I smelled the tang of her salty sweat, and the fragrance of her shampoo. It was soft, and plain, but still so fitting. Like spring water.

"His elbow is high, and you're shorter than he is, so you can get into his box, and attack from below his left arm." I relished her attention. Those eyes were so closed off, but there was a sparkle there. Was it fascination? Gratefulness? I couldn't tell. "Follow with a solid cross, and you'll be able to get the upper hand on him."

I leaned closer to her, until we were practically nose to nose. "And for fuck's sake, stop taking it easy on him. If he's your lover, that has to stay out of the arena. Got it? If you two are ..."

"He's not my lover," she blurted out.

Thank. Fucking. God.

"Well, whatever is going on, you have to make sure that you keep it out there," I cut my eyes to where Eoghan was sitting, one arm on his backrest, leaning casually to Dairo. Both their eyes were on me, as they exchanged words.

The pair of them could have been brothers. Hell, they could have been identical twins if their eyes weren’t such different colors.

If there was a myth about twins created by the gods and given to two brothers to raise, one evil, and one good, then Dairo would definitely be the good twin, and Eoghan, the devil.

I turned back to The She-Wolf, suddenly finding an affinity for her moniker. "You don't want your audience to feel cheated, you get me?"

“You said I had two options. What’s my other option?” she asked, shaking her head.

“You piss everyone off with the game of footsy you’re playing, and both of you end up eating a shit sandwich when the audience rips you two apart.”

I was trying to sound somewhat jovial. After all, we didn’t know each other, aside from how my cock fit in her heat. I didn’t know if joking was the way to get her to do what I said, or if I should be a straight shooter.

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because your friend back there has a coach, and you don't." I told her. Then, because I’m kind of an asshole, I added, "And because you’ve got a nice ass."

Chapter 5

Sin

Thewayhesaid"friend back there" made me think he was implying something. Was he jealous? Why would this hulking man be jealous? And why was he coaching me? It was complete bullshit to think that he did it just because of his sense of fairness.

When the warning bell rang, he got up and walked out of the octagon, giving the opposing coach a cold nod, like they were two generals about to go on the field. He took his place behind me, on the other side of the chain link.

"Get under his left," he mumbled as I popped the blue mouthguard back between my teeth.

Who the fuck was this guy? His voice was so low that I barely heard him over the roar of the spectators, but that timbre carried through like a fog. Even through my sweat, and the humidity of the room, I could smell his hands. They smelled like gun oil. Like he had just finished working on a car.

After only a few words exchanged, I could pick out his voice in a line up, even though I was having trouble conjuring his name. Alex? Ahab? Something weird.

But why did he care?

I shifted my feet, getting ready to take on the next round.

Guile didn't hesitate. He lunged right into me, his arms coming around my abdomen in a clinch.

"Do you know who that is?" he whispered harshly into my ear, as we wrestled to dominate or escape each other's embrace.

We pushed apart, circling again, his blue eyes on me.

I shook my head slightly, and he nodded.

No, I didn't know who he was.

His eyes communicated that hedidknow and that he'd tell me in a moment.

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