Teaching Their Omega novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Lesson One: Scent

In the empty classroom Lowen teaches the brothers what scent really does, kisses them both, and comes under Rhett's fingers while Declan takes notes.

"Close the door," I said.

Declan Ingram closed the door of the Grange classroom without a word.

It was six in the evening, the students were gone, and the radiator under the window was clanking out heat.

I set my tote on the teacher's desk and took out a clean sheet of paper.

"First rule of my class. The Handbook stays on the desk."

Declan put it down and he was glad to be rid of it.

Rhett sat on a student's chair backwards, folding his arms across the top, grinning.

"Second rule. Nobody tells me what page it's on."

"Understood," Declan said.

"Lesson one is scent," I said. "Tell me what it smells like when I'm near you."

Declan frowned.

"The Handbook says an Omega's scent is classified in four notes. Floral, citrus, musk, and..."

"I didn't ask what the book says."

He stopped.

"What do you smell?"

"Soap," he said slowly. "Wool. Something sweet."

"Come here."

He crossed the room in three long strides and stopped a foot from me.

"Closer."

He came closer, until I could feel the warmth coming off his chest.

He stood very straight with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Put your face to my neck," I said. "Just breathe."

He bent his head.

His breath hit the skin under my ear, warm and uneven.

I let my head tip to give him the side of my throat.

He breathed in once.

His whole body went still, and then a shiver went through him, shoulders to hips.

"Oh," he said into my skin.

"What is it?"

"It's warm." His voice cracked. "It's like it's in my mouth. I can taste it."

"That's it. That's the lesson. Write it down."

He fumbled for the notebook in his back pocket with one hand.

The other hand had come out from behind his back and was resting lightly on my waist.

I don't think he knew it.

"Rhett," I said. "Your turn."

Rhett was out of the chair before I finished the word.

He came up behind me, big and warm, and I felt his chest press along my back.

He didn't ask where to put his mouth.

He put his mouth where the braid fell away from my nape and breathed in.

He made a low sound I felt all the way down my spine.

"Jesus, Lowen," he whispered. "Does it always smell like this?"

"It smells different when I want something."

"And do you?"

"Yes."

Both men went still, and the radiator clanked, and I realized I had never said it so plainly to anyone.

"Now the second part of lesson one," I said. "You learn what it does to me."

I turned in the space between them until I was facing Declan with Rhett's chest at my back.

"Kiss me, Declan."

He looked at my mouth.

Then he bent and kissed me.

It was careful and stiff at first.

Then I opened my mouth under his and slid my hand into his short hair.

A sound came out of him.

His arm dragged around my waist and hauled me up against him.

His kiss turned hungry, clumsy and deep, and he kissed.

I broke away and gasped for air.

"Good," I said. "That's an A."

Behind me Rhett gave a low, delighted laugh.

"What do I get?"

"What do you think?"

I turned my head and he took my mouth the other way, over my shoulder, with his hand spread over my belly.

He kissed the way he did everything, generously, laughing into it, and then his laugh turned into a groan when I bit his lip.

My knees went soft.

Declan caught me at the front and Rhett held me at the back.

I stood pressed between two hot, hard bodies in a classroom that smelled of chalk, and I wanted to melt.

"Now it's Rhett's hands I want to talk about," I said, a little breathless.

"My hands?"

"You pressed my pulse like a melon. Show me what your hands can do when you're not thinking."

I took his right hand from my belly and slid it down to the button of my jeans.

I popped it open myself.

"Slowly," I said.

His fingers slid into my underwear and found me wet.

He groaned against my neck.

"Fuck. Lowen. You're soaking."

"That's what scent does. Now use two fingers. Flat. Find where I'm hardest."

His fingers moved, slow and wondering, between my folds.

He found my clit and circled it, light as a feather, and my hips jumped.

"There," I said. "Right there. Don't press. Circle."

"Like this?"

"Yes. Slower. Declan, keep my head up. Watch my face."

Declan's hand cupped my jaw.

His grey eyes were fixed on my mouth, and he did not look away once, even when I whimpered.

I could feel Rhett getting hard against my ass, thick and urgent through his jeans, and he rocked once without meaning to and swore.

"Don't rush it," I said. "Just keep circling. Good. Now one finger, inside. Curl it up."

He pushed one thick finger into me.

I cried out.

"That," I said. "That's it. Oh, God. Curl it. Come toward me, like you're calling someone over."

He curled and found the place.

My head fell back onto his shoulder.

"Tell me what you feel," Declan murmured.

He had his notebook open against my hip.

His pencil moved with a shaking hand, writing down every sound I made.

"I feel her clench," Rhett said hoarsely. "Every time I curl. She's gripping me."

"Faster," I breathed. "Now."

His hand sped up, wet and sure, his thumb on my clit and his fingers working inside, and I stopped being a teacher.

I grabbed Declan's shirt and held on.

"Look at me," he said. "Lowen. Look."

I looked up at him.

The pencil had fallen out of his hand, and he was watching my face with such open, wrecked wonder that I came.

I came with a cry I couldn't swallow, hard, clenching around Rhett's fingers, sagging between them while my whole body shook.

Rhett held me up with one arm and kissed my temple.

He said my name over and over.

When I could stand, I breathed out.

"That's lesson one," I said.

Declan bent and picked up the pencil.

His hand wasn't steady, and he wrote down a single line in his neat square hand, and I leaned over to read it.

Subject came at 6:41 p.m. Subject is the best thing I have ever seen.

I laughed, short and shaky, and pulled his notebook out of his hand.

"You don't get to grade yourselves," I said. "I grade you."

I wrote in the margin in red pen.

Declan: A. Rhett: A minus. Hands need more practice.

"A minus?" Rhett said, outraged.

"You said fuck three times. It's very distracting."

Rhett threw back his head and roared with laughter.

Declan watched me, and he didn't laugh, but a small, crooked smile broke through his face.

It transformed him.

"Thursday," I said, and zipped my jeans up with fingers that still shook. "Lesson two."

"What's lesson two?" Declan asked.

I looked at his mouth, and then at the teacher's desk behind me.

"Mouth," I said.

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