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After downing both drinks, he strolled over to the bouncer and paid for his lap dance with Tulla. He was sternly told he would do no touching, only the omega would—to which he agreed. He had no reason to manhandle Tulla. He was there for information. Tensen returned to his table and his empty glasses, watching the omega complete the performance.
Not long after, Tulla’s set ended, and he came offstage. Tensen watched closely, observing as the bouncer caught the omega’s attention and gave the news. He stiffened at the turn of Tulla’s attention his way, searching through the crowd.
The omega smiled seductively, but Tensen noticed it didn’t go all the way to the eyes. Tulla sauntered his way and stopped inches away.
“I hear you want a private dance?”
Tensen felt the spark of lust grow larger. He was there to do a job, not get his jollies off a scantily clad omega. “I did.”
Tulla offered a hand. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private.”
Tensen took it, a zip of electricity rocketing through his hand and arm. They wended their way through the chairs and tables to a back room filled with what appeared to be leather couches. In a far corner was another beta getting an erotic dance, rapt in the omega’s stare.
Tulla all but pushed him down in another corner of the room and then slid onto his lap. The music was quieter there. Tensen could hear himself think, although his cock was doing too much of the thinking in that moment.
“So what’s your name, big boy?”
The hint of a syrupy accent he’d suspected in the club's din was more pronounced in the quieter space.
“Tensen,” he answered, attempting to project some veneer of control. “Tensen Atkinson. I’m an attorney.”
Tulla rested his hands on Tensen’s shoulders and rolled his hips. “An attorney. Oooh… I guess that means you’ve got a big brain. I wonder what else you’ve got that’sbig?”
“You don’t have to do this…”
“Don’t have to do what, baby?”
“The dance. I need to speak with you, Tulla.”
Tulla paused his motions, yet the curious smile that formed on his face made it all the way to his eyes. “Speak with me? About?”
“Avery Stephens… or rather,Abraham Norcross.”
Tulla’s face went dark. “I don’t know who that is.”
“My investigators suspect you know exactly who he is and that you’re the one who helped him with his illegal name and class change—as well as supplied him with Scentex.”
Tulla leapt from Tensen’s lap. “I do not know what you’re talking about.” He turned to leave, but Tensen captured his wrist and dragged him back.
Another bouncer appeared out of nowhere, pushing Tensen away and bodily putting himself between them. “You don’ttouchthe omegas.” The bouncer glanced at Tulla. “You okay?”
“Get him out of here,” Tulla spat.
“I’m here to help you,” Tensen cried, but Tulla kept walking and the bouncer dragged him toward the door. “If I found you, then the Guard isn’t much farther behind.”
That got Tulla to stop. He spun to face Tensen and waved a hand at the bouncer, who let Tensen go.
Tulla marched closer and stopped inches from him, teetering slightly on too-high heels. “Not here.” He scanned the room. “Follow me.”
Tensen trailed behind the tiny omega, watching the man’s ass swishing back and forth. They ultimately ended in a dressing room filled with wigs, feather boas, and more lingerie hanging from every viable location. Tulla shut the door behind them, motioning to a spot on a small couch across from a makeup mirror. Once Tensen was seated, he sat down in the makeup chair and spun it so they faced one another.
Outside the dressing room had been a flirty, sexy omega. Inside it, the man was all business.
“I don’t know what you assume, but I can tell you that you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not guilty of the things you seem to think I am.”
Tensen eyed the omega. The lilting, sugar-sweet accent was gone.
And the gloves were off.
