Page 21 of Fired at the Heart

I straighten, the slinky material swinging back into place, and adjust the clip in my hair, activating the communicator. “Team A, status report.”

“In position,” comes the reply, slightly distorted by static. “Infiltration successful. Waiting for your signal.”

My team has been infiltrating the private club across the street, some posing as guests, others slipping in through the rooftop access. Our intel suggests that the club has breeding rooms in the back as well as selling the Omegas it offers for entertainment. Disgust churns in my stomach at the thought.

“Good. Stand by.” I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come.

The club operates twenty-four-seven, so there was no way to go in when it’s closed. We’ll have to do this the hard way.

I look at Raphael, hating the way my pulse jumps at the sight of him.

Regret flickers in his eyes when they meet mine. “Avery, I…”

“Don’t.” I cut him off, the word sharp. “We’re not doing this. Not now, not ever.”

He presses his lips together, not agreeing but dropping it for the moment.

I turn away, ignoring the hollow ache in my chest. No time for sentimentality, no room for the past. We have a mission to complete.

And I’ll be damned if I let Raphael Rockford distract me again.

“We’re moving out.” I head for the exit, expecting Raphael to follow. “Move in to position and wait for my signal.”

Confirmations come down the line.

Raphael catches my arm before I step outside, and my head snaps up, lips parting in a reprimand.

“Remember what you’re supposed to be.” He tugs me to his side. “We can’t have them seeing you as the one in control.”

I bristle at the reminder, though I had agreed to the plan. “I’ve got it handled.”

Raphael sighs, the heat of his body sinking into mine as he leans in. “Do you? Because you have to pretend you not only like me, but that you’re my pet. You can’t stiffen when I touch you. You can’t be seen disobeying.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll play my role.” I nestle closer and peek up at him through my lashes as I stroke his chest, slipping my pinky through the gap between the buttons over his heart to graze his hot skin. “Alpha, play with me. I’m so lonely.”

Raphael’s pupils expand, his nostrils flaring as he swallows hard. “Okay, I believe you.”

With a wiggle of my hips against his thigh, I let my lips form a teasing pout. “Kitty wants milk, Alpha.”

“Now, you’re being creepy.” He turns away, but not before I catch him adjusting himself.

“Just stick to the plan.” I let the act drop and push through the door, stepping out into the dark alley. “And keep your focus on the target, not on me.”

It’s a low blow, but it’s the only way to keep him at arm’s length. To remind myself that whatever we once had is long gone. Once this job is done, so are we.

Raphael joins me outside, and he walks a step ahead of me as we approach the club. I keep my head down and my senses on high alert.

At the door, Raphael flashes the black card Sebastian had acquired for us, and the bouncer waves us inside.

Dim lighting cuts through the thick haze of pheromones and the musk of sex clinging to the air, making my stomach swoop. Once again, I’m glad for Raphael’s Mark, which prevents the potent mix from turning my thoughts into a haze of lust. This was why we only sent Betas into the club, leaving the Alphas on the outside, masks in place and ready to breach.

The club vibrates with bass-heavy music, a slow, throbbing pulse that seeps through the floorboards and into my bones. But the music can’t mask the other sounds, the low, breathy gasps, the wet slap of flesh meeting flesh, the hushed murmurs of pleasure.

I force my expression to stay neutral as I follow Raphael deeper into the club, careful not to let my focus linger too long on the guests. Some lounge on sleek, black-leather couches, their expensive suits undone far enough to suggest they’re waiting for entertainment. Others occupy private booths, half-hidden behind velvet curtains, bodies moving in ways I refuse to acknowledge.

A server in a skin-tight bodysuit approaches, the gold collar at their throat glinting under the chandeliers. “A private room, gentlemen?”

Raphael shifts, and a proprietary hand pulls me forward. “I’m here to find a playmate for my pet. Do you have any recommendations?”

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