Page 13 of Hooks In

I try really hard not to look down at his dick as my eyes subtly take in his abs. But no. Focus.

The hot asshole underneath me is going to be a challenge in this little tumble we’re about to embark on, and I’m determined to kick his ass. I hate that I have to do this with him, but I need to accept that this is how it’s going to be, and… learn from him.

In Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, you need to either force your technique, or wait for your opponent to make a mistake. Which is why he is so fucking good at this and why I… am not as good.

Fuck, that hurt.

Because my downfall in this area of the fight is my lack of foresight. I tend to miss opportunities and then find myself in positions that I tried to avoid in the first place. What I need to do is think ahead and anticipate, to force the techniques I want to use rather than wait for an opportunity to fall into my lap. Because with Ty, that never happens. He’s always a step ahead. Unlike when we’re on our feet and I can control our little dance with the speed and agility that I have over him.

We awkwardly stare at each other for a moment, neither of us wanting to be the one to initiate sportsmanship with each other. But eventually, I give in. Because I can’t keep my eyes from dropping to his special area before me much longer.

His eyes laser in on my fist as I hold it out before me. He lightly taps it with his, and we begin.

Immediately, I want to stand up. It’s the best way to get out of closed guard, but I know Ty isn’t going to allow that to happen and will break my posture if I do. Fucker. So, game plan. Control the hip and opposite arm, so he’s unable to break my posture when I stand. Then… well, I’ll figure that out.

His legs are closed tight around my waist, and since they are high up, closer to my upper back, I can’t lean back to get my elbows in and make space. And because of this, his hips are off the ground, allowing him much more movement than I would like.

He places his hand on the outside of my arm, and his legs pull me in closer to him. As he forces my arm in towards the middle line, I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s trying for another fucking armbar.

Oh fuck no, nope. No sir, not again.

A grunt escapes me as I try to control his opposite arm, and I think about forcing my technique on him. Don’t wait for mistakes.

I need to sit back and get my knee down the middle line. He’s eventually going to move his leg over my shoulder to complete the armbar, and when he does, I can push myself up to my feet, and take control of this conversation.

But he’s too fucking calculated. He knows I’m thinking of something, and he’s not yet making his move. He’s gaining more control of my arm, and using pressure to slow me down. And well, fuck. It’s working. But that speed and agility he’s trying so hard to suppress? It’s coming, baby. Oh, just you wait.

And fuck yes, the second he starts to move his leg up to my shoulder, I’m faster than him. He still has control of my arm, but I move my knee into mid-line and push up into standing.

But then he sweeps me, and before I know it, I’m on my back.

The fuck?

I hear cheering, and I’m vaguely aware that everyone is standing around us. But my focus remains on this fucker on top of me. We’re rolling hard now, and I let the cheers urge me on. Until Ty successfully moves into back control.

I’m losing my ability to control this as Ty is consistently anticipating my every move and positioning himself in the perfect angles for him to dictate how this goes.

And I’m getting fucking angry.

He gets me into rear mount with his arm over my chest and I curse to myself. Because the next second, I’m in a tight as fuck rear naked choke. With no way out of it.

As he pulls tighter, I tap.

The cheers for Ty piss me off even more than my loss to him. I immediately stand up, refusing to look at Ty or anyone else.

“So,” I hear Max’s voice as he approaches me. “What did we learn?”

I take a deep breath and turn around, my eyes immediately finding Ty over Max’s shoulder. He is simply standing there, looking at me with that blank expression while everyone congratulates him. And my anger grows. I don’t want him to celebrate his win over me, but also why isn’t he? Seriously… this fucking asshole. Does this really mean nothing to him? Why is he even here if he doesn’t care?

“Luca?” Max asks and I bring my gaze back to him.

I sigh. “I needed to continue controlling his arm and hip until I got a foot back to prevent a sweep.”

Max nods with a smirk. “Yeah. So, why didn’t you?”

I narrow my eyes at him, and he chuckles. He turns to Ty and gestures for me to come back to the mat.

“Again. And Luca, commit to your game.” Max steps back, and I’m left staring at Ty.

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