Page 30 of Rut Bar

Anthony zips up his jeans and buttons them. He searches the wall and picks up a bottle of the concentrated food-safe disinfectant we use to clean the glasses and dishes with. I stand aside and let him leave. He talks to Emma, says something that makes her laugh, and then a few minutes later they walk away.

Jealousy pricks at me. What did he say that made her laugh like that? Is that her normal laugh, or is she flirting with him right now?

The cum and arousal-soaked fabric clings to my pussy, and now that I’ve come twice and I’m no longer aroused, the sensation is irritating. There’s no way that I can work all day with these panties on. Especially not once they get crusty.

While his beta pheromones are so mild that most omegas and alphas won’t be able to pick them up on me without being extremely close, they’ll still be able to scent my slick.

In the staff’s private bathroom backstage, I strip them off and pee, then wet a paper towel and clean myself up as best as I can. I shove the panties to the bottom of the trash can and grab the bottle of nullifier spray we keep there for anyone who needs to use it. I spray myself and the bathroom, then the trash can too for good measure. So long as nobody goes digging, I might get away with this.

He wasn’t lying. I know Anthony well enough to know that when he makes a promise, he keeps it. If he finds out I’ve ditched my cum soaked panties, he’ll try to bend me over and fuck me even if that means the entire bar has to watch. He’s crazy enough to do it. I’d have to use my safe word to get him to stop.

I’ll simply have to avoid him for the rest of the night.

I wash my hands, check my hair, and straighten out my wrinkled clothes, then leave the bathroom to see if all the dancers are here for practice yet.

ChapterEight

JAMIE

I step offstageand blink to clear the spots from my vision. The bright stage lights are blinding and hot. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark club. The next song queues and another act starts while I take my break. Once I’m backstage, I pull the folded and crinkled bills from my lederhosen short shorts and compile them into a tidy pile of cash.

“Thirsty?” Anthony asks from behind me.

I shove the bills into my money bag and lock it up in my locker, then turn and take the drink from him.He’s always taking care of me like this.“Thanks. You always know exactly what I need.”

The first sip is so refreshing that I sigh and close my eyes as I suck down a longer gulp. He’s mixed lemonade with orange juice and a splash of cherry syrup, and the combination makes me want to kiss him. But we’re at work. It’s only the middle of the shift so there’s still too many people around. He doesn’t want everyone to know we’re together. Not yet.

“That’s me,” he says wryly, “I always aim to please.”

He sounds like he doesn’t mean what he’s saying, but I know it’s true. Anthony works hard to keep me happy. He’s the only one who ever made me comfortable enough to fully explore being submissive. Everyone looks at me and sees an alpha and has an idea of who I should be or what I should act like, but Anthony lets me be myself. Lets me figure out what that means for me.

I give him a smile. “You do.”

The straw makes a loud sound as I suck up the rest of the drink and slip the embroidered lederhosen straps off my shoulders where they’re digging. They hang around my thighs when I let them drop, and my chest warms with satisfaction when Anthony’s eyes follow the movement.

He’ll never admit it, but he appreciates my alpha physique. As a beta, he’d have to train himself to death inside a gym to achieve what my dynamic makes almost effortless. It’s hard to take pride in it, though, when it comes so naturally. As long as I get enough protein and exercise, I’ll always look like this until I’m old and gray. Until my testosterone level eventually drops.

But we always want what we can’t have. Or that’s what my mom says anyway. And she’s the smartest person I know other than Vee and Anthony.

I like his wiry strength. The sleek lines of his more subtle, toned muscles. The dark ink that covers almost every inch of his skin from knuckle to neck to navel. I’m too scared of the needles and the pain to get a tattoo.We always want what we can’t have.

“And you do,” I say, agreeing with the statement I know he doesn’t quite believe. But he does. He pleases me immensely. I’m not sure I’ve ever been as happy as I am lately, except after that one time I rode a tasty fifty-footer off the coast of Portugal and didn’t wipe out. With our omega in sight, we’re one step closer to finding our pack. We’re one step closer to feeling complete.

His pale blue eyes flash with some dark emotion, as if he can read my thoughts. It’s scary yet thrilling whenever he does it. I glance around the dressing room and find it empty. The backdoor is propped open with an empty keg so I know a few dancers are out back, clearing their noses and catching their breath. Everyone else is on stage making money. Darlene’s working in her office, but I know from experience she won’t hear us over the sound leaking from the stage and the hum of her sewing machine if we keep our voices low.

“Is everything… okay?” I ask him, my belly all fluttery with nerves. I’m not really sure what I’m asking though. Is Anthony really okay with opening our relationship up? A threesome or a casual fling aren’t the same as a pack. Packs are work. They’re hard, but rewarding. Most betas don’t feel the urge to pack up like alphas and omegas do, and some of them like the fantasy more than the reality.Are we still okay?

Am I doing my part, or am I messing this up? I panicked yesterday and quit and nearly ruined all of his careful plans. I’m not good at stuff like this. Not like he is.

Anthony glances at people and knows how they tick. I’m… handsome. Strong. Sweet. A nice guy. All the things people say about you when what they really mean isnot smart.Normally, that stuff doesn’t bother me, but I don’t want to wreck this before we get started. If this all hinged on me, we never would have made it this far.

Are we going to scare her off or make her so mad we have to leave Rut? I don’t want to go. I didn’t know how much I’d like working here when I took the job. And I don’t want to mess this up and get Anthony fired. I could always go back to surfing. Maybe open a board rental shack on the beach and really lean into teaching so I don’t have to leave for competitions and be away so much. But Anthony can’t afford to be jobless unless he calls his family and he’s too proud to ask for help, especially not from an alpha. Not even if I’m his boyfriend. Probably especially because I’m his boyfriend.

“Yeah. Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” Anthony asks, his expression guarded.

“She didn’t watch rehearsals today. She always watches, at least for a few minutes. Did something happen?”

“I fingered her in the supply closet.”

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