Page 87 of Alpha Heat
See? Connections were easy. He could make them too. If he ever tried.
But tonight was about him and Urho spending time together away from the bed, so he smiled and then politely turned to Urho to let Jol know he was engaged elsewhere at the moment.
“Well, perhaps this area isn’t his style, but Janus loves to socialize. I know he’s become a big hit on the lower floors where the gym is housed and the wrestling matches take place.”
“Wrestling?”
Xan rolled his eyes. “Yes. Apparently, he’s quite the fighter.”
Urho frowned but remained silent.
The drink was good and Xan downed it more quickly than he should have, the pleasure of it sweeping through him and flushing him with heat. He wanted to touch Urho’s chin, slip a hand around his neck, and tug him down for a kiss. He sighed and settled for a smile.
“I enjoyed a bit of boxing when I was young,” Urho said, licking his lips and pulling his gaze up from Xan’s mouth. Had he been having the same sorts of thoughts? “Riki found it thrilling and I enjoyed thrilling him.”
“You don’t box now?” Urho looked like he could still take down a mountain if he chose. Muscled and strong, tall and well-made. He also moved with such steadiness and purpose that Xan could imagine him in a fight, landing solid punches like a machine.
“It’s for young toughs. Like Janus, apparently.”
“If the time he spends here is any indication, he’s not just good at wrestling, but loves it too. Though I suspect he also loves getting away from the house, almost as much as we enjoy having him gone.” Xan smirked. “Especially since he and Caleb came to blows.”
Urho’s eyes went hard. “You’re going to have to explain that a bit more. Particularly the part about how Janus is still breathing. He hurt Caleb?”
“No! Caleb hurt him!” Xan smiled with pride as he remembered the way Caleb had taken Janus down. “He kicked him in the shin and then elbowed him on the back of the head.”
“Wolf-god.”
Xan shrugged. “The idiot brought it on himself, of course.”
“Caleb is fierce and beautiful. You’re a lucky man to have him.” Urho smiled fondly, admiration shining in his eyes.
“I am,” Xan agreed. “He makes me as happy as any omega could.”
“Andthatmakes me happy,” Urho said, nodding toward a tall, well-dressed, middle-aged beta approaching them. “That looks like the concierge you arranged to meet. Let’s see what activities keep Janus so occupied.”
The concierge of the club gave them a full tour even though it was night. He touted the club’s golf course—glimpsed by the light of the moon from a balcony on the back of the building. He also pointed out their thirty-five slip marina, and their outdoor and indoor swimming pools.
“Those are our most popular summer attractions,” he said, with a slight lisp and a twinkle in his gray eyes.
They were on the stairwell headed down from the upper floors to the lower levels of the building within the cliff wall. The scent of sweat and musk drifted up from below.
“But in the winter, sirs, we offer indoor activities. Bowling, of course. And, as you saw, billiards, poker games—for the gambling types—and racquetball for the sporty men.” His brow rose and his expression took on a sly expression. Then he lowered his voice as though revealing something secret. “For those with a taste for something brutish, however, we also offer a more aggressive,alpha, form of indoor entertainment.”
With that he opened the door at the bottom of the stairwell to a large interior gymnasium. It was almost rank with the scent of alpha pheromones and sweat. The smell stung Xan’s nose, and he blinked as his eyes teared up from the intensity of it. Urho seemed to have a similar reaction, clearing his throat hard and wiping at his eyes.
The reek lit up Xan’s nerves, his alpha instincts going on alert: danger, pain, suffering—and yes, sex—was to be had here. He could smell it. He gazed around at the vast room, divided into different sections and overrun with men.
This must be where all the alphas of Virona congregated at night. Between the upstairs and the down, how could there be any left at home with their omegas and their families?
Speaking of, there were no omegas in this room. Alphas only. That was evident at once and brought home by the sign across the back wall:OMEGAS FORBIDDEN. And in smaller letters:due to the danger of alpha expression in their presence.
“They’ll fight—and not by the rules of competition, sir,” the concierge said under his breath, noticing the direction of Xan’s gaze. “No one wants to lose in front of their omega.”
Urho nodded and loosened his tie.
The air was humid and thick. Half the room was dedicated to boxing and wrestling rings, and the other half to punching bags and weights. There were seats set up in front of one ring, as though for an audience, but they remained empty at the moment.
Alphas prowled the room in tight shorts and shirts that exposed their ripped, muscled arms and sweaty shoulders. They punched and kicked sand-filled bags, and, in the rings, each other. Some wrestled on a mat in the corner, and another group of men were helping each other lift bars of heavy weights.
