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My wolf prowls the corners of my mind, growling in the darkness. His agitation amps me up, and I consider allowing him out for a split second. But I don’t, and I won’t. It’s frowned upon to shift in public. No one in the shifter community wants humans to find out about the supernatural beings living side by side with them. It would cause a panic.
My heart beats harshly against my ribs, my hands gripped firmly on the table edge. My breathing is shallow as I watch her slowly peel off her clothes.
My cock is a lead pipe in my black suit pants, and I want nothing more than to steal her away and rutt her into next week.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
This isn’t normal for me. Fuck knows I can’t even remember the last time I had sex, and now it is the only thing I can think about. I don’t know anything of this woman, but already she is working her way underneath my skin, crawling into my mind, and making a home for herself.
Her show comes to a close, and she is seated directly in front of our table, straddling a chair, wearing nothing but a powder blue thong and two large deep blue feathers covering her breasts. It is the sexiest fucking thing I have seen in my life, and I have yet to see her naked.
The lights go down, and I can hear her leaving the stage. Even with my heightened eyesight, I can’t glimpse her. Only a few moments before the lights return, and the stage is empty.
“Alpha Anderson,” I hear a man beside me. “My name is Riggs Johnson, and I’m honored to welcome you to my establishment. Please let me know if you need anything while you are here.”
I don’t even hesitate before the words slip from my lips.
“Her,” I nod my head in the direction of the stage. “I want a private dance.”
The man named Riggs pales at my words but doesn’t object. Instead, he nods before heading off to fulfill my wishes.
Chapter Three
I don’t do private dances
Talulla Smith
The moment I step from the back, Riggs has a sizeable calloused hand wrapped around my elbow as he leads me to one of the back rooms. In my three years here, I have never given a private dance. It’s my hard limit.
I don’t spend one-on-one time with clients.
I pull to a stop outside the closed door and wait for Riggs to look at me. He knows exactly what I am waiting for. He better explain what the hell is going on before I walk out of here tonight and never look back. Job be damned.
“Talulla,” he says lowly, rubbing a hand over his face. I know this is something big when he uses my name instead of calling me Sapphire.
“Riggs, you’re kind of freaking me out.”
“I’ve never asked you to do this and always respected that it was a hard limit for you. But I need you to do a private dance tonight.”
I’ve never heard my hard-ass boss plead with anyone. Riggs is always confident and in charge, and how he is acting right now doesn’t make me feel even the slightest bit safe.
“Who is in there?”
“Silas Anderson.”
When I don’t say anything, he explains what he clearly thought I would know.
“He is one of the most powerful Alphas in the United States. He commands one of the largest packs on the damn continent. How do you not know this?”
“Not being part of a pack means you don’t care about stuff like that, Riggs.” I throw back at him. “I’m not part of the dynamics, so I don’t give a shit about the politics.”
“Silas Anderson is the Alpha of the Whychwood pack and the owner of Whychwood Industries. He is the most powerful man we will ever meet and asked for you specifically.”
“Riggs,” I start, but he cuts me off.
“I will give you anything you want if you do this for me.”
I watch him closely, assessing him carefully. He really is desperate, and I am going to use that to my advantage. If he wants to use me, I will be returning the favor.
