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“Never, ever, ask Marsh to concede. It only fires him up more.”
“What do you mean?” Aaron asked, his eyes never leaving the mat. Despite watching as closely as he could, he didn’t see what Marshall did, but the next second Rafe was on his back with Marshall on his chest, a hand around his throat.
Rafe’s eyes widened, and his leg twitched and then froze as Marshall applied pressure. All the fight drained out of Rafe, and he tapped the mat twice.
Marshall grinned and jumped effortlessly to his feet. He reached a hand down to help pull the panther up.
“Good fight.”
“You’ll do,” Rafe conceded. He held a hand out to Marshall, who took it and then pulled Rafe into a hug. Aaron couldn’t hear what they said, but Rafe barked out a laugh and pushed Marshall away.
“Pay up,” Saint said, reaching across Aaron to where Blake was sitting with a disgruntled look on his face.
Blake stood and patted his pockets, looking for his wallet. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans and then drew out his fist, raising his middle finger at Saint as he did.
“Oh, you did not,” Saint gasped.
“Sorry, Stripes. It appears I’ve mislaid my wallet.”
Saint launched himself off the bleachers, and Blake took off out the side door.
Aaron ignored them and strode over to his mate, who was with Rafe, watching the antics of Saint and Blake.
Marshall grinned at him, but Aaron glowered back. He saw Rafe start to shuffle away, and he pinned him to the spot with a glare.
“Problem, Alpha?” Marshall asked, crossing his arms across his chest. Aaron was momentarily distracted by the play of sweat-slicked muscles, before dragging his eyes back to Marshall’s.
“No. Why should there be a problem when my head of security is fighting with my mate?”
“We weren’t fighting….” Rafe said, but stopped at the low growl that rumbled from Aaron.
“Dick measuring,” Aaron bit out.
A snort escaped Marshall, and Aaron turned back to him, grasping his chin in his hand. He tilted Marshall’s face, one way and then the other, looking for damage. There was a slight bruise on his jaw, but otherwise, apart from stormy emerald eyes, he was fine.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he ground out, dismissing Rafe, who had the good sense to walk away while he still could.
Marshall’s hands came up to rest on Aaron’s waist.
“I’m fine. I promise.”
Aaron didn’t respond. He was fighting the urge to take his mate to the mat where they stood and fuck him senseless. Prove to him he was Aaron’s, and no-one else was allowed to touch him. He cursed that his mating bite had faded so quickly. He needed the world to see that Marshall was his.
A wave of desire hit him, and he realized Marshall had dropped his shield and was allowing his feelings to flood across the soul bond. He slid a hand behind Marshall’s neck and pulled him into a brutal kiss.
Marshall met his ferocity, their breaths coming in sharp rasps.
“Get a room!”
The catcall pulled Aaron out of the blind lust and broke their kiss.
“Let’s get out of here,” Marshall said. Aaron nodded and let himself be led from the gym.
Marshall stretched, his body aching from not only the sparring with Rafe but the very intense love-making session with Aaron. Aaron had taken him with a ferocity tempered with aching gentleness. Through the soul bond, Marshall had been swamped with a gamut of emotions, from intense need to waves of warmth that he wasn’t ready to put a name to.
Aaron stirred next to him, a long-tanned arm reaching across the bed until groping fingers met Marshall’s skin. A soft sigh escaped from the sleeping Alpha, and a wave of contentment passed through their bond as Marshall entwined their fingers.
Aaron’s features were relaxed in sleep, his skin glowing healthily. They’d both put weight on, and Sam had been delighted that they both appeared to be fully recovered. He’d promised them both that unless warranted, he would not take any more blood samples from them until their yearly physical.
