Phil clicked away at the laptop precariously balanced on the thin shelf inside of the wicket where the cash register usually sat, humming in approval. “I see you both. Give me a few moments to get everything in order.”
We stepped to the side as he worked, clicking and typing as he directed questions towards both of us. “It looks like your emergency contacts are both Tara Sinclair?”
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “Backup is Charlie Martin?”
Phil nodded, nostrils flaring slightly as an omega dripping in heavy orange blossom and vanilla perfume stepped up to the counter, holding up their wrist to show off a fluorescent green bracelet that I guessed was for re-entry.
Their costume—if you could call the tiny bikini, boots, hat and fake pirate sword they had a full costume, left little to the imagination.
My eyes found Tara, who shrugged with a grin, mouthing. “Told you that you were wearing enough.”
“Hey Philly-pie,” the omega called, leaning up to nearly press her face to the glass, round tits resting on the thin outside counter of the wicket. “I was wondering where they hid you away. I’m here for my treat, do you have one for me?”
The man froze, his gold eyes flicking up to look at the omega before returning to his laptop. “Welcome in, Jennie. You can go right through, no need to stop with the bracelet.”
The omega pouted at the dismissal. “Come on, Phil-bill, don’t be like that. Look, don’t you like my costume? I wore it just for you!” She did a fanciful turn, being sure to bounce their tits hard as they did.
Tara and I shared a look as the stiff beta looked Jennie up and down.
His head didn’t move, but I swore even in the dark shadows from the lit sign above him that there was a slight pink to his cheeks. “You look nice, Jen. Enjoy the festivities.”
“Brutal,” mumbled Charlie.
Phil cleared his throat. “Jesse, as a mated beta, your paperwork is a little different. Can I have you come here, please?”
The sexy pirate pursed her lips, green eyes flashing as she strutted away with a flick of her dark hair, hips swaying in anger.
My eyes were on Tara’s like lightning, finding her already looking at me in a silent scream at the juiciest gossip she’d heard in ages. We’d mastered the art of talking without talking, a necessity for when we needed to get our point across at industry events, where I couldn’t just side DM her like we did on stream.
“All the same consent waivers apply, but you’re permitted into the omega-only rest spaces as well as the alpha-only zones. We just ask that you follow our policies while on either side.”
“Understood,” Jessie smirked as Phil offered him a tablet and stylus to sign his consent form through the tragically tight slot.
It looked like the set-up was pretty annoying, but given it was a one-night-only affair, I respected his commitment to the bit.
They looked over the document before signing and sliding the tablet back.
“Excellent, now, Eva. It looks like you’ve created a duplicate profile. Normally, we’d go through the entire rules and heat talk, but it seems you’re not in heat currently. Is that correct?”
“Nope,” I said. “Just here for the event. And I’ve been before, it’s just been a while. Just wasn’t sure you’d still have my profile.”
He nodded. “We retain records for the legally required seven years before their destruction. In that case, I’ll just have you update your stoplight list and general interests and then have you on your way. It doesn’t look like it was filled out correctly the first time…”
The tablet made its way through the little slot again, and I looked at the typed limit list, the little clickable checkboxes beside most items were empty.
“No,” I said, a little embarrassed. “It’s right.”
Though I hadn’t had much practical experience with kink, I did have a lot of interest in trying new things. And since I could change it as I found things I wasn’t into, I thought it was better to leave my options open.
Phil’s eyes widened, making heat creep up the back of my neck.
Tara laughed loudly, drawing the unwanted attention away easily. “Don’t worry, my list was like that too, right Phil?”
He made direct eye contact with her. “I am not permitted to share confidential client data with other members without a release form. Would you like to fill one out?”
“You have a control kink,” Tara accused playfully.
Phil, to his credit, never even cracked a smile. “What colour bracelet?” he asked, pointing to the little chart affixed to his wicket after I’d signed the consent form and pushed the tablet back.
