Zach wrapped his lips around the two straws in his drink and slowly sucked, looking at me. I had no idea what my face showed aside from bewilderment.
“I’m working on it.”
Lothair leaned closer and whispered into Zach’s ear. He knew I would hear since we both had shifter senses.
“Let me help.”
With Lothair’s face turned away, Zach winked at me.
What just happened? Did Zach throw me under the bus? Why did he lie and then lie on top of that lie?
“How about you gentlemen join me and my friends for a more private party in the lounge upstairs?” he said, and my stomach swooped.
I sensed where this was going.
With his armlooped through Lothair’s elbow, Zach climbed the stairs. In those shorts, half of his butt cheeks hung out. I couldn’t help but remember having my hand buried between them.
I followed them like a damned lemming.
Could I leave? Quit on the spot? It wasn’t like I was following any fucking security measures with Lothair. Hemade it impossible to stick to protocol. If I ever managed to contribute to his actual safety, it would be pure luck and against his best efforts.
When I complained about my impossible position to Devon two days ago, he asked if I wanted to quit the task before the month was out. He seemed ready to accept it.
Except I said no. I didn’t want to quit.
Following Lothair everywhere had become a special kind of torture. Leaving him on his own, though? It seemed impossible. I barely knew why. Whenever I tried to think about it and be rational for once, my thoughts got jumbled and panic set in.
What had Lothair done to me?
Another couple of beefy alphas guarded the double door to what had to be the VIP lounge. Seeing Zach, they stepped aside and held the door open.
I gulped.
The music was loud, but slow and sultry, and the lights were dimmed. The only somewhat lit area was the bar.
I scanned the room.
About fifteen omegas, probably all Rafaelo employees. Nine alphas of various ages. Several people danced on a small stage with a pole in the center. Low sofas surrounded the stage. One couple was making out heavily in a corner. Three people by the bar—one alpha and two omegas. Two bartenders, a young omega and a bald, muscly alpha. The alpha looked like a bouncer and carefully eyed the others in the room as if protecting his flock. He must have been part of the security in the lounge.
After getting us a gin and tonic each, again on Lothair’s account, Zach led us to a sofa, and we sat with him between us. He and Lothair conversed casually, shouting into each other’s ears over the heavy beat.Lothair asked about his job, miraculously managing not to be creepy about it, and Zach flirted with him outrageously. It annoyed me, which was nonsense. I had no claim on Zach.
I kept my attention on the crowd, assessing threats out of sheer boredom. The only danger in here would be someone drunk puking on us. Or not even that—while the people definitely seemed to be buzzing, nobody was wasted. I didn’t spot any hard drugs, couldn’t smell any pot, and nobody’s jacket was covering a gun holster.
I recognized some faces who would probably not appreciate being outed as club patrons. Like the chief justice of the Ardaine Supreme Court, for instance. The hulking alpha in his late forties was on his knees in front of a barely legal omega. He nuzzled the boy’s belly and stroked his hips. The omega patted his cheek condescendingly, and the man licked his palm like a dog. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to serve the boy for the rest of the night and was begging to be allowed.
The most boisterous group sat opposite us—two older men in suits and three scantily clad boys. One of the boys straddled one of the alphas and twerked his ass in his face while the others laughed. A smaller door to the side flew open, and a fourth omega joined them, holding what looked like a replica of a dragon knot, except it was neon green.
I stared, dumbfounded.
I knew people had sex toys that resembled shifter anatomy, but I’d never actually seen one.
The omega stuck the toy to the table, and the silicone wobbled. The group cackled with glee.
The boy who’d been twerking straightened and stroked the toy with one hand. It was the length of his forearm, andthe knot was bigger than his fist. Five pronounced ridges adorned the cock under the bulging head.
“No way!” the alpha yelled, laughing. “You can’t.”
“Wanna bet?” one of the omegas asked.
