Page 9 of Training the Alpha

I check my phone to find a text from Marcus, confirming that he’ll be at the gym after-hours again tonight. As opening night draws closer, my rehearsals have been pushing later and later into the evening, meaning more late-night sessions with Marcus. Although, since we fucked for the first time two weeks ago, there’s been less and lessactualtraining going on. We usually start with good intentions, but as soon as I catch the sharp smell of Marcus’ sweat, or I make a flirty comment that sends heat rushing to his cheeks and down south, well… it’s never long before he’s balls deep in myincrediblywilling ass.

On the one hand, my gains from cross-training aren’t what they could be, but on the other, I’m more satisfied than I’ve ever been. Sex with Marcus is, to put it bluntly, fucking mind-blowing. Godly. Earth-shattering.

Way too good to last.

“What are you grinning about?” Colette asks, unpinning her tight blonde bun with a sharp intake of breath, exhaustion etched into her round, soft features. “Please tell me you’re going to bed after this and not on a date or something. My toes are literally bruised, Alex, and you just had to lift me a thousand times.”

“Foundry closes at eleven. I can still squeeze in an hour of training if I catch the subway now,” I say, flashing her an unrepentant grin as I toe my dance shoes off, and she looks at me with uncontained horror.

“Boxing. At ten o’clock at night. After we just ran Act Two four times from start to finish.” She narrows her eyes at me, before a knowing, skeptical smile pulls up her lips, her sharp omega senses seeing right through my casual demeanor. “Oh, god. It’s a man, isn’t it? You’ve got that stupid, predatory look you get when you’ve got your eyes on a new project.”

“He’s my trainer,” I drawl, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Purely professional. Honestly, do you think I’m that much of a slut?”

“Oh, I know it,” she grins. But her smile fades quickly, replaced with a protective, concerned look that makes me groan in anticipation of what I know she’s about to say. It’s a conversation we’ve had before. “Actually, I know that you’re a hopeless romantic with a penchant for closeted gym bros. If I’m way off, tell me.”

I press my lips together, looking at the ceiling but saying nothing.

“I’m never wrong,” she says, smug. “Just… promise me you’ll be careful, Alex. Seriously. You deserve more than another Rob. Don’t forget who you are.”

“We do not speak his name,” I hiss, pushing down the memory of a whiskey-laced scent, a hundred hushed, hidden trysts, and the stinging rejection that ended it. I ignore thetwinge of worry that Colette’s words trigger, leaning down to press a reassuring kiss to the top of her head. “I’m just working on my core stability, Coco, that’s all. I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow.”

—

“Have you ever had your ass eaten?” I say, plainly staring at the muscle of Marcus’ ass in his shorts as he stretches his hip flexors. We actually managed a solid half hour of training this evening without tearing each other’s clothes off, before I had to admit defeat because my body was just too physically exhausted to throw another punch.

I’m stretching on the strip of empty mats next to our training corner—I offhandedly mentioned that there was nowhere clear for me to stretch during one of our early sessions, and the next time I came in, Marcus had set up a dedicated stretching zone for me. At first, he’d just watched me stretch while he did a terrible job of pretending to be busy doing something else, but eventually he started joining me on the mat. His flexibility is terrible, and I mock him mercilessly for it, but I like watching him do it all the same.

“What?” he splutters, wobbling out of his stretch and catching himself before he falls over. “Um, no.”

“I know you’ve never been with another alpha before—”

He shoots me a stern look. “I’ve never actually told you that. I could have been with a hundred alphas for all you know.”

“Come on, Marcus. Be serious.” He tries to maintain the serious look for a few more seconds, but eventually sighs in defeat, shaking his head.Cute. “But have you never been with another guy before? Not judging, just curious. I’mfascinatedby you, you know.”

He tries, and fails, to suppress a smile, but then glances around anxiously as if he didn’t lock the doors the moment theevening trainer left the building. “I, uh, I have, actually. Only ever omegas, and not many.”

“Hmm, I’m impressed,” I hum, switching to stretch out the hamstring of my other leg and enjoying the way Marcus’ eyes drag over the swell of my ass.

“It’s not something I can be open about, here,” he says, almost apologetically. “Not because I’m prejudiced, just because… well, you’ve seen some of the attitudes that still exist here. It’s pretty ingrained. And my dad was a boxer, and his dad too. Everything was always about dominance, and… I’m not sure exactly what I’m saying. I just don’t know how it would go down. The implications it could have for my reputation at the gym.”

He’s looking at me like he’s begging me to understand, and even though I want to launch into a spiel about how he should accept himself and live proudly and make his own rules, it’s clear that he’s only just beginning to process this shit.

So I just nod, slowly. “I get it,” I say, truthfully. “It’s complicated. And I may be a loudmouth, but you don’t have to worry about me saying anything about that. About us. Not here.”

His eyes flash with relief, and I fucking hate it. Even if I can understand it.

I change the subject. Slightly. “So you like being with omegas?”

I’m conscious that I could be pushing things too far, but subtly isn’t my strong suit, and Marcus seems relaxed enough that I only detect a fraction of the usual panic in his eyes when I bring up anything related to his sexuality. The fact that he just opened up to me about why he’s not open about being with men is a miracle in and of itself.The magic of stretching.

“Sure. Of course,” he says. “It’s… fine. All sex is good, right?”

I try to keep my expression neutral, but one eyebrow raises anyway. “I don’t know, I’ve had some shitty sex,” I laugh. “Notwith you, of course.” I flash him my best dazzling smile. “But ‘fine’ doesn’t seem like a ringing endorsement.”

He frowns, and I can see his brain working. “I can go through the motions. I thought maybe it would be better with male omegas.”

“And was it?”