"My Top-Tier Omega Wife Flirts With Me Every Day" - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Can You Really Do This Publicly? Captain…

[Or just let him touch me~]

[It’s definitely more fun than the thing in his hand~]

[Haha~ his hands must be soft~]

Mota: …

Sometimes he really doubted whether, when he initially assigned the negative personality to this incarnation, he had accidentally mixed in something else.

Because this version of himself acted like a s3x maniac when facing Ling Zhuo.

Or maybe he forgot to give it some brains, so that his so-called love at first sight for Ling Zhuo was all focused on… some shameful parts.

“Achoo!”

Ling Zhuo held the gun and learned how to assemble it in just one try. He was about to reply when a faint tobacco smell tickled his nose.

He turned his head and sneezed several times, shaking his head pitifully: “Uh… that burnt grass…”

His odd description made Mota zone out for a few seconds before realizing he was talking about smoke. He quickly apologized and stepped back, suppressing the urge of the teasing personality in him.

“The smell is bitter, and it has a tar taste. It’s not as pleasant as your pheromones,” Ling Zhuo wrinkled his nose, clearly displeased by that bitter grass.

“It’s the first time I’ve heard someone praise my pheromones as pleasant,” Mota looked at Ling Zhuo with surprise. Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, not just flattery, made him even more amazed.

The smell of burning was considered ominous among their people. As members of the bird tribe who lived in the forest and worshiped the sky, his pheromones symbolized forest fire — either destruction or rebirth from the ashes.

Either way, it was dangerous to their tribe.

Ling Zhuo looked confused: “No one praises it?”

“Yeah, most people are scared of it,” Mota casually explained. He usually deliberately suppressed releasing it, and when on missions, he emitted a pressuring scent. Few could stand smelling it and still talk.

Mota gestured to the gun: “Try again now.”

“Oh, okay!” Ling Zhuo obediently squinted, aimed, and fired crisply, hitting the bullseye.

Not far away, Xia Man rested her hands on the protective net, whistling smoothly: “Nice~”

It was unclear if she was complimenting Ling Zhuo or the gun skills.

Mei Jiuhe, tired from shooting, came over to watch. On the other side, Jiang Yizhi switched guns and looked at Ling Zhuo, surrounded by people, feeling extremely displeased.

He was just a bit lucky hitting a few shots, nothing to praise. Besides, Captain Mota had already coached him, so hitting the target was normal.

He was so angry his teeth were about to break. Hearing Xia Man say the next training was in the combat room instantly energized him.

Not to brag, but his martial arts won first place in their district competition.

Jiang Yizhi smiled coldly while glancing at Ling Zhuo: “Pretty face, huh? Competing for Captain Mota? I’ll mess up your face later!”

The group returned their goggles and guns, neatly following the captain to the next training.

The combat arena was next door, busier than the shooting range. They heard punching and low shouts inside the door.

Other newly recruited interns from various departments, except cleaning, cafeteria, and administration, were brought here for basic training.

Their training clothes differed slightly from the execution squad: black short sleeves and long pants.

The arena was divided into a heavy bag area, equipment zone, rest zone, and ring. The combat instructor was a huge muscular man, much sterner and quieter than the previous coach, only greeting the two captains briefly.

Then he tossed some boxing gloves their way.

“Put these on. Your captain said you have a martial arts background. Later, I want to see you do 1v1 sparring.”

His voice sounded fierce and unapproachable.

Mei Jiuhe struggled with this kind of person, unconsciously frowning and putting on gloves slowly, showing resistance.

“Here’s a secret,” Xia Man suddenly whispered beside her with a smile, lowering his voice conspiratorially: “This coach actually has social anxiety and is a pink lover~”

Mei Jiuhe tilted her head slightly, eyes downcast as she continued putting on the gloves, looking less resistant.

They were led to the ring. Ling Zhuo went up first. Jiang Yizhi immediately volunteered as his opponent. Someone among the trainees shouted, “Execution squad’s sparring now!” causing a crowd to gather.

To enhance the atmosphere, the coach turned off all the lights in the arena except the bright spotlight above the ring, simulating a real competition setting.

The fighter on the ring wasn’t excited yet, but the crowd below was buzzing.

“Wow, so this is this year’s execution squad rookie? Looks good!”

“Wanna bet? I’m betting on the redhead!”

“I’ll take the baby-faced one. He looks professional.”

“Spotted the redhead beauty on the way here, damn, she’s hot!”

“Keep it down! The captain’s still behind us. Place your bets~”

The newcomers chatted eagerly. Bets were mostly small, like a cigarette or a pack of spicy beef jerky. The two captains turned a blind eye and let it slide.

The combat coach noticed Ling Zhuo’s chest. The usually rough and serious man flushed.

“Ahem, all accessories must be removed during fights to avoid injury,” he reminded.

Jiang Yizhi adjusted his gloves, smiling lightly: “Relax, I’ll go easy on you~”

Ling Zhuo looked down and realized he was still wearing a n1pple ring.

“Wait a sec.”

Already wearing gloves, he was too lazy to take it off. He looked around for help and met Mota’s gaze at the back of the crowd.

Their eyes met, Mota leaned in: “What is it?”

The ring was high up on the ring, Ling Zhuo standing above against the light. Mota had to look up at him.

The light made Mota’s eyes squint, his gray pupils becoming lighter and sharp, cold and distant.

Behind Ling Zhuo, Jiang Yizhi guessed his intention and curled his lips in displeasure.

Mota’s gaze on the red hair moving closer, Ling Zhuo squatted at the ring’s edge with legs apart, one hand lifting the rope, the other clumsily pulling up his shirt edge with the gloves on.

His pale waist and abdomen were suddenly revealed, muscles tight and beautifully defined without any excess fat, each line perfect. Against the black clothes, it looked like a narrow streak of snow, giving the illusion it could be grabbed with one hand.

The crowd, initially excited for the fight, fell silent and captivated, bl00d heating, eyes fixed on Ling Zhuo.

But Ling Zhuo was completely unaware, still trying to pull the shirt higher, struggling due to the gloves.

He looked at Mota: “Captain, help me take it off.”

What to take off was obvious; the alphas around thought so too, stomach tightening with a sharp intake of breath.

“I feel dizzy…”

“The bravest one’s here! Why choose Mota of all people…?” Someone sighed regretfully, “Mota hates physical contact the most…”

Jiang Yizhi frowned tightly, about to say something to stop it, but hearing that, he froze, waiting for the show of public rejection.

Mota looked at the light blue fox-like eyes lowering, the light coating them, bright and tempting. The pleading voice was soft.

His breathing slowed. Without saying yes or no, his eyes glanced at the crowd’s bold stares and released a few waves of suppressive pheromones.

The withered burning scent spread with terrifying pressure. In seconds, people felt chills on their necks and cold sweat, bowing their heads immediately.

When the gazes disappeared, Mota reached out and grabbed Ling Zhuo’s shirt edge, pushing it to his chest. Ling Zhuo obediently lowered his head, biting his shirt, murmuring, “Hurry…”

His exposed chest met the spotlight, showing a shallow pink pierced by a silver metal ring, sparkling beautifully.

Mota’s ears burned hotter.

Did he know what he was doing?

[He’s teasing me.]

[Still urging me to hurry.]

The thoughts and the second personality’s voice emerged simultaneously. Mota tried to suppress them, but all he saw was the reflection from the metal ring and the pink chest, making his mind go blank.

He wanted to suck it into his mouth…

[Want to suck it into my mouth~]

The simultaneous thought stunned Mota.

He knew Ling Zhuo would look great there. When he first saw him through a bl00d-stained shirt, he was already attracted and dreamed about it.

Now, so close, Mota admitted he was a bit overwhelmed.

The arena was deadly quiet. He held his breath and stretched out his hand. His fingertips touched something soft.

When he twisted open one end of the metal ring, Ling Zhuo’s body trembled as if burnt by his fingers, biting the shirt edge subconsciously.

The dark shirt soaked with saliva didn’t show much, but his eyes flooded with watery light, impossible to ignore.

His skin was sensitive, tingling where touched, half puzzled why, half craving more.

“Uh… so strange… but… I like it~”

Driven by comfort, Ling Zhuo’s chest unconsciously pushed forward.

The tender firm chest pressed into Mota’s palm, but he immediately flipped his hand and pushed it away with the back of his hand.

“Don’t move,” a restrained, husky voice stopped him.

It sounded cold and sharp, but Mota was actually startled by the bold move and went blank.

Only a little rationality remained.

The fox-like human froze, the water in his eyes not sure if from discomfort or hurt pride. Tears threatened to spill, blinking into small drops on his lashes, asking sadly, “Why?”

“…”

Mota pursed his lips and said nothing.

His neck veins throbbed, agitated. This fox was actually sulking?

Why?

What good could a lost-control alpha bring him?