I’m doing it again. I groan silently. The only thing I can think about is being inside her again. Her black hair is glowing in the late afternoon light, she looks so insanely hot. I can’t look away from her, not with shapely long legs look in her yoga pants and I want to gouge out the eyes of every man in this room.
Startled back into the moment by Zimmerman’s whistle, I pull my group together and go through a set of moves designed todo the most damage with the least effort. Lucca’s right. I am a fucking idiot. I need to control this jealousy. It was bad enough last year, but after finally being inside Mariya, after all these years of fantasizing and now knowing that she did taste and feel as good as I thought she would, is magnifying every mindless, violent impulse I have.
“Turgenev?”
Her legs are flexing and her loose tank top rises up to show the taut globes of her ass, and-
“Oy! Kon!”
“What?” I bark, then realize O’Neill and his crew are watching me expectantly.
“Are you ready to spar?” he says patiently.
“Oh. Right. Yes, of course,” I snap, pulling off my hoodie.
“Everyone, follow the movement here when Mr. Turgenev strikes at Mr. O’Neill,” Professor Zimmerman intones, “I’ll expect you to follow the same pattern when it’s your turn.”
Liam is eyeing me cautiously. Maybe Mariya isn’t the only one not masking their emotions as well as they should. He sighs as I charge him and tries to flip me.
“Ow!What the fuck, Kon?”
He’s lying on the floor and based on how he’s rolling to his left side.
I dislocated his right shoulder.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Here-” I haul him back up, wincing a little at his groan. “Do you want me to pop your shoulder back in, or take you to Dr. Giardo?”
“Neither,” he says crossly. “Mariya? You did this for me last time.”
“In small arms training, I remember,” she chuckles, guiding him against a doorway. “Lean back.”
They’re both ignoring me now and I just stand there like the asshole she thinks I am, fists clenching and unclenching.
Taking his right arm, she gently lifted it to the side and over his head. “I’m going to rotate it now, okay?” Mariya says conversationally.
“Aye,” Liam grunts, his face turning red as she pulls his hand toward the opposite shoulder and two sophomores flinch in sympathy as his shoulder re-sets with a nauseating cracking sound.
“You were trying to show off with that shoulder mount Mossberg 940, remember?” She’s trying to keep his mind off the pain and he chuckles reluctantly. “Two shots, Liam. Two shots and you dislocated your own shoulder that time.”
“At least it was the other one,” he groans.
“Mr. O’Neill,” Professor Zimmerman calls out, “you’re excused. Go put an ice pack on that and see Dr. Giardo if it starts swelling up.”
As he gratefully leaves the gym, my lovely fiancée rejoins my group, glaring at me the entire time.“Sucha dick,” she hisses as she passes me.
Taking a breath, I sculpt my expression back into cold indifference.
“I heard you dislocated O’Neill’s shoulder today,” Lucca said, aiming a punch at my ribs.
“Too much force,” I grunt, “it was sloppy.” My roundhouse kick barely clears his head.
“At least you scared the hell out of the sophomore combat class,” he grins, yanking my leg out from under me. I’m off the mat and elbowing him in the chest before he can get his fists up.
We fight for another twenty minutes until we’re both too tired to get back up. “Not that I don’t enjoy our sparring sessions,” he said, leaning against the wall with a groan, “but if this is your solution for the lack of sex you’re facing for the rest of the year, you’re going to have to think of something else. If you beat me up enough that it cuts into Tatiana's time with me, she’ll never forgive you.” He unwraps his hands, “In fact, she’s not that happy with you now. She was asking me all about your - what did she call it? - your boorish behavior on the train.”
“Of course,” I snarl, “Mariya tells her everything.”
“That can’t surprise you,” he chuckles, “they are inseparable.”
