Page 10 of Mark & Don't Tell

“Guess it’s just us,” a guy two tables over says.

Glancing up from the butt plug section—maybe I should snap a picture for Arnold—I study him for a moment. Confident smirk and posture. A sparkle in his eyes that says the world is meant for him.

An alpha.

I may not be able to smell him, but I know, without a doubt, that’s what he’ll be. Though I’m not against alphas, seeing as I’ve had my heart broken several times over and most brutally by a few alphas, I’m hesitant enough to pause before smiling politely at him. “Guess so.”

Taking it as an invitation to engage, he meanders a little closer. “First time?”

My answer dies in my throat when the air shifts, alerting me to someone’s arrival. No, not just someone. Him. Vicente. Vic. I don’t know how I know, but I do. My spine stiffens, and I suck in a deep breath, then curse myself for forgetting about the no-scent rule. All I can smell is the musky perfume of the club itself.

Vic hesitates at the door. Because of me? Because of the alpha? Speaking of the alpha, he waits for me to respond, probably mistaking my delay for nerves and not total distraction.

I want to turn and look, to take in all those beautiful tattoos, the chiseled jaw, the broad chest, the strong hands that probably know exactly how to handle me, but I resist the urge. I ignore the mirrors, which would show me who I really want to see.

“Yes,” I say, voice a little breathy. “It’s my first time.”

And then Vic walks into the room, the energy shifting in his direction, almost like he’s a black hole coming to destroy everything. My pulse skitters when my awareness places him at my back, a simple table the only barrier between us. When my gaze flies to the mirror, I realize he’s positioned perfectly behind me. All I can see is the faint outline of his body.

The alpha glances at him and nods. “Hey, man.”

Vic doesn’t reply.

“So,” the alpha says to me, not missing a beat. “I saw you eyeing the floggers.” He glances at my wristbands. “Rethinking your limits?”

“No.”

“You sure about that?” he teases. “I saw you stroking them.”

“It’s not?—”

“She said no,” Vic growls.

I shiver at the anger lacing his words. Fuck, that’s hot.

“I’m talking to her, not you,” the alpha fires back.

And then Vic moves, and it takes every ounce of my control not to turn, not to watch him walk around the table until he stands right behind me, mere inches away. A looming shadow. Approaching night, threatening to snuff out the light, so the dark can come out and play. I bite my lip and force myself to stay strong.

Don’t give in. Don’t be the first to break.

“And she said no. Her limits are her limits, and you don’t question them. Or did you forget that part of the briefing?”

Tension vibrates around his body and slithers through mine, his breath breezing over my shoulder—or maybe I’m imagining that part, but he’s so close.

“It’s okay,” I tell the alpha to defuse the situation, and then to my tattooed savior, I say, “I think he gets the message, babe.”

Babe? What the fuck? But the alpha steps back and holds up his hands.

“Sorry, man. Didn’t realize she was already spoken for...unless you two want company?”

“No,” Vic snaps. “She’s mine.”

Good. Fucking. God. Someone, get a fan. That anger on my behalf is hot as shit.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” the alpha says before departing.

Thong soaked from that little display, I control my breaths and focus on the table of toys, ignoring the temptation crowding my back. Vic doesn’t say anything for a moment. I press my lips together. I’m not chasing him.

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