Page 45 of The Twins
“She might have to just get used to being told.” I chuckled and went down the stairs.
“Morning, beautiful.” I curled my arms around Rebecca’s waist and nuzzled her neck. She smelled heavenly; powder and flowers, perhaps coconut, too.
She was stirring scrambled eggs. “You hungry?” she asked and leaned back against me.
“For food or for you?”
She giggled. “Food, surely you had enough of me last night. We were at it until the birds were starting to sing.”
“I think you’re exaggerating.” I cupped her soft breasts and squeezed. “But for your information, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She wriggled from my grasp and reached for the kettle that was singing on a gas ring. “What do you have planned today?”
“Whatever you have, didn’t we agree that you shouldn’t be alone until we’ve tracked this asshole down?”
“Suits me, I haven’t got much on. Walk and a movie?”
I shrugged and started to butter some toast. “Though we ought to go to the gym, train maybe. Would you like to come with us?”
She studied me for a moment and stirred coffee. “Watch you train?”
“Yeah, we’ll do some sparring, maybe some weights.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I reckon I could suffer seeing you sweat and flex your muscles.”
I laughed. “Good, as long as it’s bearable for you, let us know if it’s not.”
Two hours later, I was stepping into the fight arena, which was basically a octagonal cage, black leather, toughened edging and a big red snake’s head printed on the suspended base.
My shorts, complete with groin guard, were black and so were my gloves, though my chest was bare. I adjusted my mouth guard, also black, and hopped on the spot. Having already warmed up, I wanted to stay that way.
Aran Roberts did the same, and from the corner his brother watched, the way Finn did.
I glanced at Rebecca. I’d never seen anyone more out of place in a gym. Not that it was a bad thing; she was just so feminine. Pretty and soft and delicate, not just how she looked but how she spoke and moved. That hadn’t gone unnoticed amongst the testosterone-fueled guys mooching around, she was drawing plenty of attention. But the assholes better not act on their obvious attraction, because I was ready for the fight if they were.
“You ready?” Aran smacked one fist into the opposite palm.
“Best out of three?” I asked.
“Sure.”
I nodded at Phil who flicked the timer on to five minutes.
Aran was straight at me, which was good, this was training for a big fight. I didn’t need a gentle approach.
He went for a leg takedown that I avoided and countered with a punch to his kidney.
He barely seemed to notice and ducked down for a clinch. I wrapped my arms around his torso, and we hit the deck with a thud.
“Get the point,” Finn shouted and slapped his hand on the cage base.
I went for a guillotine choke, a specialty of mine, and after a few minutes of battling—the guy was big and a wriggler—I got him into position.
The watching crowd went wild. Phil shouted out the seconds, and then Aran tapped out.
I released him, and he sprang up, cat-like, his cheeks red.
“You okay?” I asked.
