Another mother fucking Alpha if I am to go off his tobacco and vanilla scent that has me tightly in its clutches.
I want to bottle the scent and douse myself in it.
No.
No.
I can’t allow another one of these Alphas to have this kind of power over me. Fucking again.
Snatching my hand out of Conall’s, I bless him with the most uninterested look I can, one he grins at like it is a challenge he wants to concur.
“Well, it was delightful to run into you Conall but I have a job to do.”
I don’t bother with any other pleasantries as I hit my shoulder into his which I know hurts me more than him, as I continue heading down the hallway. I can already hear the end of Misty’s set and I don’t plan on being late, especially not when I know the new owners are in tonight. I don’t need to add being fired to my fucked up week.
I decide to add a little bit of salt to the wound that will no doubt be Conall’s freshly shredded ego as I swing my hips with a little more vigor. His sounding pained groan behind me has me snickering under my breath as I walk up onto the stage.
Chapter Seven
Iknow that my mother would be cursing my name if she could see the way I stare at the little devil’s ass as she walks away from me.
I couldn’t hold back on my scepticism at my twin buying a strip club, especially one this rundown and derelict. But as the woman, who I now follow without question, makes her way up onto the stage for her set, I don’t question Victor's choices.
In fact, I applaud his decisions.
I don’t pay attention to any of my surroundings as I watch her walk up to the pole before performing tricks that have my eyes blowing wide in surprise.
It’s impressive at just how much she trusts the tiny pieces of fabric that hide her most private parts from the world.
Her lush, curvy body has me transfixed.
This woman is an enigma.
Just by the single interaction with her, I want to know every single one of the secrets that she is so desperately clinging to.
I want to know everything about her.
What is her name?
What is her favorite color?
What does she like to do other than dance?
What does she taste when her head is thrown back in pleasure?
I shake my head, surprising myself at the dirty thoughts that begin to plague me. All of the new fantasies that I am desperate to try are filled with nothing but the striking brunette.
The only woman in years that has made me feel anything remotely special.
The day mine and my pack’s Omega was murdered was single handedly the worst day of my life. Seeing her bloody lifeless body has haunted my dreams for years.
Getting her the justice that she deserved was the only thing that made the years of grief livable.
Yet, this little spitfire stumbles into my life and up turns it within minutes.
I don’t know how long her set goes for but I watch every single second of it. How could I not? My little devil is spectacular. Not only is she drop dead fucking gorgeous, but the way she brushed me off like I was a spec of dust on her seven-inch heels had me wanting to get on my knees for her.
A hand slapping down onto my shoulder has me instantly on edge, ready to throttle whoever the fuck is disturbing me out of my new favorite show.
