Page 161 of Knot Baked Out For This
I have to hold down my excitement.
CHAPTER 30
Training Grounds And Dangerous Games
~ROWAN~
Three hours of self-defense training should not feel like foreplay, but here we are, both breathless for all the wrong reasons.
I have Hazel pinned beneath me on the training mat, my weight carefully distributed so I'm not crushing her but she can't escape. She's panting, face flushed, hair escaped from her ponytail and sticking to her neck where that hickey Luca gave her is still gloriously purple.
"This is so unfair," she huffs, squirming under me in a way that's absolutely not helping my concentration. "You're literally triple my size!"
I chuckle, sitting back on my heels to let her catch her breath. She sprawls on the mat like a starfish, chest heaving, and I force myself to look at the ceiling instead of the way her sports bra is doing incredible things.
Professional. You're being professional. This is about empowerment, not the fact that she looks like sin in gym clothes.
The training room is empty except for us—the other Omegas left an hour ago, Nash dragging a blushing Reverie away while she pretended she wasn't disappointed, Marcus and Tankheading out after ensuring everyone knew the basic moves. But Hazel wanted to stay, to practice more, to push herself until she felt ready.
"I need to know I can protect myself," she'd said, chin raised in that stubborn way that makes me want to kiss her. "Need to know I won't freeze if he shows up."
So we stayed. Three hours of throws and holds, of escape techniques and pressure points, of me trying very hard not to notice how perfectly she fits against me when I demonstrate a hold.
She's a quick learner when she's not overthinking. The first hour was rough—too much in her head, apologizing every time she made contact like she was hurting me. But something shifted in hour two. Maybe it was successfully escaping a chokehold, or the way she managed to actually knock the wind out of me with an elbow strike (accidentally, but still). By hour three, she was fighting like she meant it.
This is what she needed. Not just the physical skills, but the knowledge that she can fight back. That she doesn't have to be a victim.
What she doesn't know is that Nash isn't just here for Reverie. He's got connections in both small town and big city law, knows exactly how to build a stalking case that'll stick. We're setting traps, waiting for Korrin to take the bait, documenting everything. One more wrong move and we'll have enough to bury him legally.
But I won't tell her yet. Let her have this—this feeling of power, of capability. Let her believe she's doing this alone while we guard her flanks.
She sits up finally, using her core muscles in a way that definitely doesn't make me think inappropriate thoughts about her flexibility. Sweat has made her tank top cling to every curve, and when she catches me staring, she pouts.
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing," I lie, standing and offering her my hand. "You did good today. Really good. That last escape was perfect."
She huffs, reaching for my hand. "I still can't?—"
The next thing I know, I'm flat on my back on the mat, Hazel straddling my hips, my wrist twisted in a perfect control hold that doesn't hurt but definitely could if she applied more pressure.
What the fuck just happened?
I blink several times, brain trying to catch up with my body which is suddenly very aware of her weight on me, her thighs bracketing my hips, the heat of her through thin gym clothes.
"GOT YOU!" She releases my wrist to clap her hands, bouncing with excitement. "I actually got you! Did you see that? I used your weight against you just like Marcus showed me!"
She's so proud, grinning down at me with pure joy, completely unaware that her celebration bouncing is creating a friction situation that's about to become very obvious.
My hands move instinctively to her hips, holding her still. "Stop wiggling."
"Why?" She grins wider, deliberately shifting her weight. "What's wrong, Chief? Am I turning you on?"
When did she become so bold?
My face heats, and I know I'm blushing like a teenager. "When did you become so?—"
"Confident? Bold? Sexually empowered?" She laughs, but there's heat in her eyes now. "Maybe Luca's rubbing off on me. He's very... thorough in his education."
