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Chapter Four
The throb of the bass shoved the hearts of the overzealous crowd into a frenzied beat. So loud it felt as if a physical hand pushed at your chest, forcing the breath from your lungs in frantic, panting gasps. Each ragged inhalation brought the scent of sweat, alcohol, and a miasma of sex. Even outside of the three-story brick building, that rhythm caressed nearby bodies like an excited lover, urging them inside the shadowy depths where lights flickered and flashed in every hue.
It was what Wicked was known for.
The ludicrous headshots and body shots were purchased with Ashley’s credit card. Devin felt like a fool during the shoot, but she’d come too far to back down now. She mailed the glossy pictures and forms to this address a week ago, and she’d received the call to come in. All she had to do now was to arrive at noon tomorrow for the interview and whatever it might entail.
It was difficult not to make disgusted faces as she and Ashley snaked their way through the press of sweat slick bodies toward the bar. She needed this job. More to the point, she needed to be seen here. Devin wanted to make an impression so that when she arrived tomorrow, the two owners would remember the diminutive brunette with violet-blue eyes that came through Wicked’s doors when she showed up for the interview.
At least, that had been the plan when she called Ashley the day before in a state of panic. Unable to find just the right outfit to make her stand out, she’d begged for Ashley’s help. Now clutching Ashley’s hand so she didn’t get lost in the crush of bodies, Devin began to have second thoughts. At least she had her best friend with her. The tall, intimidating woman with her short-cropped blonde locks and angular features would ward off most of the advances with her presence. Few wanted to fuck with an Alpha that looked as hard as she did.
“Scotch, sweetheart, and don’t fuck around with the cheap shit,” Ashley barked over the pounding beat at the bartender. The Beta woman with wild streaks of brilliant colored hair hanging down in a thick braid only lifted a brow at Ashley’s order and salacious grin. “And get the little bit something fruity, yeah?”
“Nothing pineapple, please,” Devin shouted as she hoisted herself up onto a bar stool. Even with the three-inch heeled boots she’d let Ashley talk her into, it was challenging.
“So, what’s the plan,” Ashley asked, leaning in close to be heard over the music.
“I have no fucking idea.” Devin grimaced, fingers twisting nervous knots in the dangling ties of the brocade bustier she wore. Paired with the short, black pleated skirt and knee-high leather boots, Devin saw the sex appeal. The problem was… she felt all wrong in it.
Devin didn’t need or want what was offered to the club patrons. Always so focused on the next step, she’d never gotten into the club scene until Ashley forced her to when they first met. Flirting with random strangers and grinding against them on the dance floor wasn’t her style. Selling sex wasn’t her strong suit, either. In fact, it was a weak point. Even dating the far more docile Betas had always been awkward on her part. It didn’t interest her the way it did others. Ashley would go on at length about her conquests, but to Devin, it was all just noise. All of that meant she shouldn’t be trying to get a job at an establishment that sold sex, but the pay the chipper voice from the phone call promised was too good to pass up. The one thing she could do without question was dance. She didn’t have to try when she lost herself in a beat. There was nothing overt or sexual about it for her, regardless of what others thought. Servings drinks couldn’t be any more difficult than the diner had been.
“Well, drink up. We’ve got all night to figure it out.” Ashley grinned and slid the strawberry concoction the bartender set down over to Devin.
Devin still didn’t know what to do after an hour and two more daquiris. Three Betas were wary as they approached, sizing up Ashley before turning their attention to Devin. Stiff smiles and polite declines had them on their way, though Ashley had to scowl at the last one.
“Why don’t you come and dance with me,” Ashley asked in the lull between DJs. She’d been a good friend, refusing the multitude of men and women alike who had approached her with interest to stay by Devin’s side.
“I don’t know…”
“Don’t even try to tell me you don’t want to dance, woman.”
“It’s not that,” Devin said, her giggle slipping all over itself and sweet alcohol. “It’s that out there, I’m a full head shorter than everyone, even in these fuck-me-heels. You’ll be dancing with dead air as far as anyone’s concerned.”
“Well, maybe Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum will come out here wondering why I’m dancing with myself!” Ashley barked a laugh, pulling Devin off the stool before threading her way to the floor that had already started to writhe and shift with the new DJ’s music.
Out in the press of grinding, swaying bodies that reeked of excited sweat and musk, Devin forgot about trying to garner the impossible attention of the owners. With the beat pounding in her chest, the rhythm throwing her heart into a chaotic dance, it was easy to let go as mind and body narrowed their focus down to the primal undulating of limbs in the sultry closeness. She’d been a fool to think she could stand out enough in this crowd to begin with, forget having enough appeal to attract their notice. Everywhere she looked, there were people far more interesting, exciting, and appealing than she would ever be. Devin was just another smokey-eyed face in a crowd of hundreds, garbed in slinky black.
She could only hope that the interview would go much better. Remaining confident that she could make the right impression no matter who else showed up tomorrow was the only way to go forward.
“Water,” Devin shouted into Ashley’s ear after several sets from the DJ. Sweat glistened over every inch of bared flesh, dark hair mussed and likely a wild mane by this point. Devin felt incredible, the flow of blood a war drum at her temples from all the exertion. The tension, the frustration, and indignation at her position melted away.
Ashley nodded her understanding and began disentangling from the female Beta grinding on her thigh. Devin shook her head, waving at Ashley to stay as the DJ began another set. She’d be okay for a few minutes. Devin threaded her way through the fringes of the crowd towards the bar. After hauling herself up onto a stool, she ordered a bottle of water with an affable grin before turning back to watch the roiling mass of the crowd.
The thick musk of an Alpha mixed with cheap beer saturated the air in a dense cloud around her before the man had even stepped into her space, the heat of him searing along her side before it, too, enveloped her far smaller body.
“Aren’t you a pretty little thing,” the Alpha growled close to her ear.
The suppressants had been a Gods’ send for Omegas, but the recent bad batch had weakened her defenses. Devin still had to work not to tilt her head aside at the low rumble that somehow managed to register even with the thumping music. She would have to increase her dosage to work in this place, but until she had her first paycheck in hand, she’d have to grit her teeth and bear through it.
“Not interested,” Devin shouted over the din, turning her back on the man, though every instinct screamed at the idea of not watching the dangerous predator. Showing fear would be a monumental mistake. Back stiff and chin high, she searched the crowd for Ashley’s blonde head. Devin needed to catch Ashley’s eye in case rescue was necessary but finding her in the shifting mass of bodies proved more difficult than Devin thought it should be.
“That’s not very nice,” the Alpha said against her ear, curling around her so that his chest covered her back. He gave another low growl, the rumble of it reverberating through his chest and into her back. Meant to excite and provoke the desired reaction from her, all she felt was disgust. He was trying to force it, calling to incite slick to flow, to overwhelm her senses so she’d become putty in his hands. It was degrading, but not as much as the flutter of warmth that sprung to life low in her belly.
“I said I wasn’t interested. Move away.” Devin kept her voice cool and collected, unwilling to provoke his anger. Even in the middle of a crowd, he could hurt her before anyone intervened. An Alpha was built to rip apart their enemies, and one disgusted Omega didn’t stand a chance against that.
“Oh, come on now. Be sweet for me,” he husked against her shoulder, sucking in a long breath to take in her scent made even more pungent from dancing. “Ever taken an Alpha’s knot, little girl? I promise I can make it real nice for you. You’ll like the way I stretch out that tight little cunt.”
If his vulgar language wasn’t enough to startle her, the way a wide palm came to her stomach as the thickness of his erection ground against the small of her back was. With an indignant yelp, Devin tried to evade his shallow thrusts, her bare thighs stuttering over the vinyl of the stool when he jerked her back. Something tepid and wet splashed over her hip as his other hand settled there, the reek of cheap alcohol billowing around her.
