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Chapter Five
Something about the way he said it, not so much the words, drew a deep crease between Devin’s brows. A delicate sniff at the air turned into a long inhale that she released on a groan of bewildered horror. Under the reek of spilled beer, sweat, and Alpha, there was the hint of sweetness. Far more than the sweat from her dancing should have induced.
Slick, unmistakable and pungent, tainted the air around her.
With painful clarity, the moment she felt that writhing warmth low in her belly played out. Muttering a curse under her breath, she bolted for the bathroom. Slamming the door behind her, she rushed to the sink and cranked on the taps.
She had to get that sticky sweet scent off her. Right. Fucking. Now.
Tears welled, ruining her makeup as they spilled over dark lashes. Panicked violet gaze darting around the small room, she found not a single paper towel but an honest to Gods cloth. There was no soap dispenser, but a fresh bar held reign over a little dish.
Ignoring the nagging voice telling her to take more precautions, Devin snagged a pristine washcloth and soaped it well under the still cold water. One small hand delved between her thighs, yanking the tainted underwear down to her knees. They’d have to be gotten rid of somehow. The long train ride home was uncomfortable enough in this outfit, but without any underwear…
Shunting the thought aside, Devin bit back a squeal as she thrust the cold cloth between her legs. Scrubbing at slick wet lips, she mumbled prayers to each of the Gods that the plain soap would be enough. She didn’t stop until tender skin became pink and swollen. Grabbing a fresh cloth, she held it under the warming stream to rinse away the frothy bubbles coating her sex. Her lips pulled tight as she shoved the scented panties all the way down her legs to hike a knee up to the sink ledge. She spread wide to scour every trace away as once soft fabric abraded abused flesh.
The low rumble of male voices under the splashing water caught her attention before she could panic and begin scrubbing again. With genuine relief making her legs rubbery, Devin cut off the faucet and opened the door to peek around the edge.
The Alpha’s stance was similar, speaking to someone he blocked with his body. Unable to make out their words, all she understood was the controlled command in her dubious rescuer’s tone.
“Where’s Ashley?” Refusing to abandon the arguable safety of the bathroom, she gripped the door and raised her voice to carry across the room.
“They’re having trouble finding her,” the male said over his shoulder, not quite disengaging from the man on the other side. More words passed between the men in a hushed thunder before the door leading to relative freedom closed once more.
A tirade of curses streamed across her thoughts in brilliant technicolor as she realized her lost chance to just leave. He couldn’t keep her there if she made a big fuss in front of the other man. Taking a breath to demand release, the soft sweetness that greeted her senses had harsh words crawling their way back down her tongue.
Leaning against the closed portal to freedom, he watched her. Taking in her mussed hair and the white-knuckled grip she had on the door, he offered that reassuring smile that did anything but.
“Lana’s gone on break, and they can’t find her. There are quite a few tall, blonde Alphas out there. They have to pick each one out of the crowd. Are you sure she wouldn’t have left?”
“Absolutely not. I mean, she would never leave without me.”
Making a noncommittal noise, he gestured at one of the overstuffed chairs ranged around the room. “Go on ahead and make yourself comfortable. Or I could arrange for you to get a ride?”
Violet eyes cool, Devin arched a caustic brow. As if she would get into a car with any male she didn’t know. With the scent of slick on her, she would be hesitant to take an offer from a man she did know. She had few other female friends she could call upon, and too many would be in bed at this hour. Even then, Beta females tended to not have a sympathetic reaction to the sweetness of an Omega’s slick.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Had to ask though, right?” Apricot shaded lips tipped up into a smirk of a smile as he pushed off of the door and went to the sideboard. “Want a drink?”
Devin scoffed and shut the door hard as she retreated back into the bathroom. Once assured that the door was closed tight and the lock engaged, she turned to look at herself in the mirror. The woman staring back at her with too wide eyes and trembling lower lip just would not do. With eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent scream of rage, she jostled hard in place and waved clenched fists at the ceiling.
She didn’t stop until a hoarse croak emitted from her straining throat and tears fell in rivulets down ruddy cheeks. Panting, starved lungs sucking in cool air, Devin grabbed hold of the sink to keep upright.
Anger was always good.
Though an angry flush pinkened her cheeks, she looked mostly in control when she raised her gaze to the mirror once again. With a terse nod at her reflection, she set about cleaning up. Panties and washcloths were tossed into the small wastebasket she found beside the sink. Bundled up into the plastic bag, she hoped it would mute the identifiable fragrance.
Through shaky breaths, she cleaned the thick runnels of mascara from her cheeks and tried to restore order to her appearance. Struggling with the tight brocade of the corset, shoving at the swells of her breasts, she tucked away the more indecent bits. After undoing a single button at the waist, she could turn the skirt so that the torn fabric hung open along her thigh without flashing glimpses of her pussy with every movement. She gave a far less decisive nod to her reflection before she opened the door to peek out again.
The man was lounging in a chair with his long legs stretched out and splayed wide. He held a tumbler of something amber held in one hand, the other smoothing over thick blond locks kept just a little too long. Either highlighted by an expert or he spent a great deal of time in the sun, the strands played through a rainbow of golden hues before he caught her looking and sat up straighter.
“All better?”
“Hardly.” Devin crossed her arms over her middle and slid down the wall. Keeping close to the bathroom and the promised solidity of a door, she tried on an impatient air. “Where’s Ashley? It can’t be that difficult to find her.”
“Hasn’t been that long,” he said, his shoulders shifting under the dark shirt proclaiming the club’s name in blocky script. It was then Devin noticed the small tears in the worn cotton, vivid red lines peeking out of gaping cloth.
“Did I do that?” Dumbfounded that she’d managed to get a blow in, let alone several, when he’d carried her away from the brawl, Devin slipped closer. She gripped the back of a chair as she came up to it, furrows etching across her forehead.
“You did. You know, when I was trying to help you.”
