Page 2 of Claimed By the Boss

Nolan’s gaze sweeps over me, sending a flush of awareness through my body. “Are you injured?”

I duck my head, my pulse pounding at his concern. “No, sir.”

“Good.” He turns on the heel of his polished dress shoe. “My table has waited long enough for our drinks. Get moving.”

My heart plummets, and I hastily gather up the tray to trail after him.

Of course, someone like Nolan Rockford would never look at me as anything other than a server. He’s never touched any of the boys who work here, and I know more than one has given him their card to call after hours. He never takes them up on their offers.

For a real estate tycoon who owns an entire chain of strip clubs, he’s a complete gentleman. And I’m just one in a sea of masked, nameless Omegas who work for him.

The bruise on my wrist aches beneath the weight of the tray as I stop next to Nolan’s table, but my hand is steady as I set a double shot of whiskey over ice in front of Nolan.

“Is that a common occurrence here?” Nolan’s fingers drum against the table. “Customers trying to force themselves on the waitstaff?”

Startled, I glance up, but his focus is fixed on the man who sits across the table from him.

Tony laughs and waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Rich was just having some fun, right Leo?”

I drop my head, my blond hair falling forward to hide my eyes as I slide a frothy beer in front of my boss. “Right, sir.”

Unlike the man who owns the place, Tony looks like he belongs here in his greasy Hawaiian shirt, left open down the center to reveal a stained, white tank top beneath. The stretchy material strains across his belly, and brown curls poke out of the neck, where a thick gold chain nestles amid all the hair.

“Is that true?” Nolan snaps his fingers, and my eyes jerk up to find his gaze now on me. “Leo, is it just in good fun?”

Beneath the table, Tony pinches my thigh, and I flinch from the sharp burst of pain. “That’s right, sir. Rich never takes it too far.”

Nolan’s steady gaze makes me squirm with the need to spill all my secrets, to admit to the times that Rich has cornered me in the back halls, or all the times he’s tried to pressure me for more.

Luckily, Tony comes to my rescue before I blurt out anything that will get me fired.

“Our customers know the rules, and if they forget, I remind them.” Tony pats my arm. “Get back to work, Leo. I see empty glasses that need refills.”

“Yes, sir.” Clutching the tray to my chest, I scurry away, my treacherous heart quickening once more.

Ruthlessly, I tell it to be quiet. Nolan doesn’t care what happens to me. His only concern is protecting his investment. If someone reported Velvet Oasis’s many code violations, this place would be shut down, and that would hurt Nolan’s bottom line.

If I make trouble here, that will also affect his bottom line, and I need this job.

For the next several hours, I bust my ass delivering drinks and bringing refills. Rich stays until nearly midnight before wobbling out to his car, and Nolan takes off soon after.

When I go to clear Rich’s table, I find my tip stuffed into his untouched water glass. Annoyed, I fish it out and shake off the five-dollar bill.

Cheap asshole was here for over eight hours, and that’s all he leaves?

I shove the soggy bill into my apron, frustrated that I’ll have to split even that meager amount with the bartender.

At the end of my shift, Tony corners me at the bar, his eyes gleaming in the low light. “Rich asked about you again. Don’t think you can turn tricks outside of my club. If you want to sell yourself, you’ll do it in the back rooms with the other boys.”

Nausea churns in my stomach, and I shake my head vehemently. “We’re not meeting outside of work, sir. I’m happy with my current position here.”

“You know, the back-room boys make as much in a night as you make in a month, right?” Tony reaches out to tug down my mask. “With your blond hair and angelic face, customers would eat up that innocent look. Hell, let Rich pop your cherry, and he’ll pay off that debt your brother left you with.”

I flinch from the onslaught of pheromones, stale booze, and cigarettes that flood my sensitive nose and yank my mask into place. Tony really needs to replace the filters in the fans, but as a Beta, he doesn’t see the point in spending the money.

“I appreciate the offer, but no thank you, sir.” Taking my share of the tips from the bartender, I pocket them. “I’m happy as a server.”

“Well, it’s no skin off my teeth if you want to live hand to mouth.” He scratches at the hair that pokes out of the top of his tank top and straightens. “But let me know if you ever get tired of just scraping by and want to make real money.”

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