Page 51 of Heat Hesitation

I assume she's going to scoff or roll her eyes at my reaction then drag us out of here, but then I realize she’s just as affected as I am. Her pupils are dilated, pretty pink lips slightly parted, then they lift in an evil little smirk.

Ophelia sticks her head back in the office door and calls to Iggy, "Is room six empty?"

We hear a simple 'yes' in return, and instead of pulling us back out into the night, Ophelia turns down a darkened hall, passing bouncers and strippers, men and women, before disappearing into a room.

Chapter 22

Ophelia

I never expected the guys to be so cool tonight; I thought they’d try to take charge, demand I quit making these runs.

But feeling Enzo’s possessiveness through the bond and knowing how hard he’s trying to restrain himself from taking control, and watching Theo, his usual cocky self, be surprisingly easy going—he didn’t crack a joke or say something shitty about the strip club, just followed along like he was happy to be included, taking everything in stride, never once looking up at one of the girls, even though there are beautiful, naked women on display everywhere you look—it makes me feel… special.

It would be easier if they tried to fight with me. Then I could just stay mad or detached.

But this easy acceptance? It’s too much.

I feel a little devious, because they have no clue what we’re doing here. Theo looks like sex-on-a-fucking-stick, and Enzo, completely out of place but hot as hell in his crisp suit, yellow pocket square and black frame glasses; paired with all these pheromones floating around, watching my two alphas try not to be affected by it, for me, makes me want to say thank you.

And what better way to say thank you, when you’re in a strip club, then in a private room in the back?

I don't know what possessed me to come up with this idea, but I slip into room six, knowing Roxy and her alphas are working tonight. I pause by the door and type into the screen mounted on the wall, which will send a note to the desk, telling Roxy there’s a request for a private dance in the back from both her and one of her alphas.

It's a little risqué. Ok, it’s a lot risqué. Nothing I'd have done before now. But for some reason, the guys have me feeling excited and happy and a lot turned on, and I want them to see this side of me. The curious side. The sexy side.

I'm not always an uptight omega.

Theo asks what's going on, dropping his chin onto my shoulder while he looks at what I'm typing into the screen by the door.

"Give me your credit card," I tell him. He smirks and pulls out his wallet, handing it over without question. I'll tell him later how much he's spending, but it's a lot. More than most people spend here. He can afford it.

The room is dark and clean. While not everything that happens in here is filthy, because of the debauchery, it's only used once per evening while a cleaning crew comes in the following morning when Queenie's is closed to air out and sanitize.

The floors are shiny black marble tile, the walls painted dark with built in twinkle lights that give the room an ethereal glow. The room isn’t very big, but has two tightly-bound red leather couches planted along the perimeter, a couple of tables and chairs for lap dances and table service, but, to me, the pièce de résistance is the stage.

Set on a platform with a one way glass window against a wall, the dancer on the other side can do whatever they’d like, protected by the glass so they don’t need a bouncer in the room. They also can’t see into this side, so the audience watching can do whatever they’d like while watching the show. Hence the high price tag and cleaning crew.

I let Roxy know that it was me on this side of the glass and that she could pick the music. It doesn’t matter to her who’s watching but I would feel more comfortable being honest. I’ve seen way more of my co-workers than most people do, but having Roxy and her mate dance for me, for my alphas, it’s different than sitting in the break room, topless, eating ramen.

She must have been close by because less than five minutes pass before the one-way glass window tint lifts. The lights around the stage change from purple to neon pink then back again, while a white spotlight at the center highlights a single chair sitting beside a stripper’s pole.

The empty chair beneath the spotlight reveals a high-heeled foot, the spike so high and sharp she could bring any man to her mercy. A delicate hand wraps around the pole before Roxy steps into view.

"Ophelia?" Theo asks, swallowing hard. His eyes dart from the window to me, back to the window. He doesn’t know if it’s okay to look.

"It's one way. She can't see us."

His brow furrows like that wasn't the answer he was looking for. Maybe I’m less shocked because I work here, where most omegas couldn’t handle their alphas looking at another woman. But I can feel what Enzo feels for me. And I want to trust that Theo feels the same, I can tell how hard he's been trying the last couple of days.

Theo gives me an earnest look, full of curiosity, heat and desperation. His voice is thick when he asks, "What's going on here, peanut?"

The endearment makes me laugh. His eyes widen in surprise, but he releases a soft chuckle, "You usually hate my nicknames."

"I still do. That was terrible."

"Peanut?"

"Yeah." I smile and shake my head, walking toward Enzo, whose eyes are only on me. Instead of his usual intense focus, though, he looks confused.

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