Page 22 of Rut Bar

“I’ll wear you down one day,” Anthony boasts. “I always get what I want in the end. You’d look so pretty all bit up and bred. Like you’re ours.”

Despite my irritation with him, I moan as I come. My walls clamp down on Anthony’s cock to milk the cum from his balls. He stutters out a curse and follows me, his thrusts slowing and working deeper. His cock pulses as it fills me.

I’m dripping when he finishes and pulls out. He orders me to squeeze and work it out so he can watch. All three of us are a sticky, sweaty, blissed-out mess.

For the first time in forever, I’m not anxious or stressed. Not thinking about payroll or spreadsheets or beer orders. I’m not worried about the audit or Rut getting shut down. Anthony drops a kiss to the base of my neck, the place where a bite goes, then pulls away.

He slides my shoe back onto my foot and helps me stand.

“That was perfect, baby.”

His praise leaves my body warm and loose and my head confused.

When I’m vertical, I notice the smarting in my knees. I’m getting too old for floor sex.Anthony draws me into his arms and kisses me, then lets me go so he can help Jamie up off the floor.

I wiggle my skirt down and button my sticky shirt while I make my excuses and flee before things can get weird. What was hot five minutes ago is rapidly cooling and congealing.

Tomorrow will be awkward and full of regrets for all of us. Things will be different now. For better or worse. Probably worse, knowing my luck.

I make it to my car before them and peel out of the nearly empty lot, driving home in a haze of muscle memory and shame. I’m no better than the bride-to-be who got caught trying to blow the stripper.

I broke my rule not once, but twice. And tomorrow I’ll have to face that. It might not be too late. They got a nice orgasm, worked their boss lady fantasy out of their systems, and now we can all pretend this never happened. Things will go back to exactly how they were.

I wouldn’t be good for them anyway. I work too much and I’m never home. Boyfriends always want more and end up leaving when they realize I won’t budge. I’m not restructuring my entire life around a man or two. I’m definitely not settling down and popping out babies like a good little omega.

My reddened ass smarts the entire drive home, and when I undress while the shower’s heating, I realize I forgot to grab my underwear off the floor.

I’ll have to get to Rut early in the morning to make sure someone doesn’t find them before I can hide them. The bar’s advanced pheromone filtering system will make sure nobody can smell what we did last night, but even industrial-grade HEPA filters won’t work on arousal-soaked fabric.

I go up on my tiptoes and angle my head to get a better look at my ass in the fogging bathroom mirror. The darkness shadowing my skin tells me the bruises are going to be glorious. I brush my fingertips over the skin and think of them before telling myself to stop.

It was a one-time lapse in judgment. Jamie might be infatuated or have a crush, but I’d only disappoint him when he realized that Rut is my life. I’m married to it. It’s my baby. And I’m not sure there’s room for anything else.

Nobody actually wants to come in second place.

I’m a bad omega.

ChapterSix

ANTHONY

“Will you come over?”Jamie asks when we get to our cars in the parking lot. His pink cheeks are barely visible in the harsh fluorescent street lighting. It takes a lot for him to gather up the courage to ask for things, so I don’t ever deny him when he does it.

“Of course, babe,” I say, looking at him fondly when he smiles. “You need more cuddles?”

I need to talk to Vee about proper aftercare. She didn’t stick around for hers or Jamie’s, and both scenarios are unacceptable. She seems to think she doesn’t deserve the affection she’s earned after a good, hard fuck, and that thought makes my chest ache for her. Our girl deserves better. “I’ll follow you.”

The roads aren’t empty even though it’s nearly three in the morning. LA is a town that never fully sleeps. The bars and clubs are empty, but that doesn’t mean people go home.

Jamie’s place is closer to the club than my apartment. And nicer. Plus it’s a single-family home. The beachside shack, a tiny sunny yellow house that was built right in the sand, is cozy and comfortable. His neighbors’ houses are right on top of him, and his lot is the size of a postage stamp, but who needs a yard when the entire ocean is only a few steps away?

He pulls his old turquoise VW van into his single-car garage, and I park in the driveway behind him. I meet him inside his dark garage and grab him by his belt loops, pulling him against me and fisting my hand in his shirt to force him to bend until his mouth is right where I want it—fitted to mine. The pose is aggressive, but my kiss is gentle as I slide my lips against his and claim his mouth asmine.

Jamie is the first to pull away with a low laugh. He reaches past me and up behind my head. “At least let me get the garage closed before you maul me.”

“Worried someone might see?” I tease him. “Don’t want your neighbors watching the big, strong alpha getting on his knees for a beta?”

The metal door click-clacks and bangs as he rolls it down until gravity carries it the rest of the way and it crashes shut. We only have a minute of light before the garage door opener’s timer runs out. “No. You know I don’t care about that, babe,” Jamie says. “But I’m exhausted from the show and I’d rather do this in bed.”

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