The bartender’s bottom lip jutted in a pout. She glanced at Bianca again before stepping closer to Dante and turning her smile up a fewwatts. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can get you? Maybe after we’re both off the clock?”
Before Dante could respond, Callum appeared on Bianca’s other side. He grabbed himself a glass of water and smiled sweetly at the bartender, his amber eyes alight with mischief. “We’ve got it from here, Anne with an e, but we’d appreciate it if you could put in an order of mozzarella sticks for us. And maybe some tater tots or whatever fried potato variation you have available. Thanks!”
“Of course,” the beta replied, taking a reluctant step back, before giving Dante another scorching look. “If you need anything else–”
“We won’t,” Bianca said flatly, setting her empty glass on the tray with more force than necessary. “Also, when you bring our next round, reach a little higher. Save those weak shots for college night, when you can make a little extra money off teenagers who can’t tell top shelf from bottom of the barrel.”
The bartender blinked in surprise. “We don’t have a college night,” she replied stupidly.
Bianca smiled a cold smile that didn’t reach her silvery eyes. “You should. The upscale clientele you’re catering to don’t come out enough to make this place truly lucrative. A couple of themed nights a month would go a long way toward covering the costs of keeping this place omega-friendly, and you could get the tips you’re so obviously desperate for.” Bianca didn’t give the woman a chance to respond, turning away with undisguised contempt. “Dante, Callum and I want to dance now. Come along and protect us.”
Callum squealed and took Bianca’s hand, twirling her in a circle before tugging her toward the stairs. He grabbed Dante’s arm with his other hand, and Dante felt a jolt of electricity at the familiarity of the touch.With an apologetic smile to the bartender, he let Callum lead him away, the redhead already completely out of his thoughts.
Dante was thinking about the sound of his name in Bianca’s mouth.
It was always “you” or “the pretty one”, never Dante. If he hadn’t seen through her practiced indifference, he might’ve believed she didn’t actually know his name. But even though he knew she did, it was still a different experience hearing her say it. He liked it a lot. He wanted to hear her say it again. To moan it. To scream it.
Callum released him at the edge of the dance floor, turning all of his attention to Bianca. She seemed suddenly uncertain, but Callum was undaunted, wrapping an arm around her waist and interlacing their palms as if they might break into a waltz. Dante could immediately see that Bianca was a trained dancer, just as he could see that she didn’t make a habit of dancing for fun. She let Callum lead her in a swaying circle and kept time with his movements, but Dante could practically see the wheels turning in her head. The giggling, carefree woman from upstairs had all but disappeared.
Without making the conscious decision to do so, Dante wove through the dancers until he was as close to Bianca as he could be without touching her. Callum’s eyes widened and Bianca’s spine stiffened, but she didn’t turn her head. Moving with deliberate slowness, Dante rested his hands lightly on her waist, covering Callum’s hand with his, just as the band transitioned into a slower, bluesy melody.
“Relax, snake lady,” Dante purred, swaying his hips gently, and guiding hers to follow. “Be like Lilith. Your body knows exactly what to do.”
Dante was pretty sure both omegas let out ragged little sighs, and Bianca’s shoulders loosened slightly. Callum easily mirrored him, and soon the three had found a rhythm, their bodies moving in tandem.None of them spoke. Dante’s senses felt heightened, amplified by the intoxicating mixture of their scents.
At first, Bianca simply followed his lead but, as the twang of the guitar and the vocalist’s sultry singing grew almost hypnotic, she began to loosen up. Gradually, she seemed to unwind. Then her toned arms were moving gracefully above her head as she rolled her body with the music. Soon, she was leaning against Dante, and he was acutely aware of all the places their bodies touched. Her eyes fluttered closed and her hips moved with more confidence. Her firm little ass slid against him in her slinky silk dress and Dante knew that at any moment she’d feel the presence of his rapidly awakening dick.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to move away, especially not when she reached one arm behind her to drape around his neck. Dante slid a hand from her waist to her hip, letting himself linger and enjoy how the silk slipped over her skin. She wound her other arm around Callum’s neck, pulling him closer so that his face was inches from hers…and Dante’s. The trio moved sinuously together for what felt like an endless song, Bianca sandwiched between the two men, the smell of poison apple French toast rising until Dante’s mouth was watering and his dick rock hard.
“We’re going to take a quick break now, so you folks just hang tight, grab another drink, and make sure to tip your servers.”
Dante didn’t realize the music had stopped until the singer’s voice cut through the pheromone haze surrounding his brain. Reluctantly, he stepped away from the two omegas, discreetly huffing the relatively fresh air and gesturing for them to lead the way back to the mezzanine. Bianca’s cheeks were pink, and she avoided Dante’s gaze as she marched past. Callum, on the other hand, waggled his eyebrows, winked, and grinned before following her upstairs.
Dante didn’t have to look to know his packmates were watching them and had been the whole time. He could practically feel King’s amused gaze. Van’s smile was a mile wide as they reached the private booth again.
“Shut up,” Dante said preemptively.
Van grinned wider. “What? I was just going to tell you that Green Gables said the appetizers will be out in a minute. And then I was going to ask if you think your boner will be under control by then.”
Dante rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the goofy smile tugging at his lips. “Fuck you, Van.”
“Anytime, babe,” Van replied cheerfully. “Any fucking time.”
Chapter eight
Bianca
Bianca woke up the next morning with a mild headache and a terrible dose of mortification.
She lingered in bed, trying not to think of Callum or Dante or any of the incredible, regrettable moments they’d shared during their impromptu night club adventure. Her body felt sore in a different way than it did after her workouts; she’d clearly used muscles she wasn’t accustomed to during their illicit little dance. Bianca’s pussy throbbed at the memory, and she let out a frustrated groan.
Was it not enough that her bodyguards had turned out to be the most infuriatingly alluring alphas she’d ever met? Did she also need the temptation of a wickedly sexy omega who had bulldozed through her walls and offered her genuine friendship? Bianca didn’t know what to do with any of this. None of it made sense.
Being attracted to Pack King didn’t make sense. Being attracted to or even just friends with Callum didn’t make sense. Neither would serve her purposes. None of these men could advance her in wealth or rank. At best, they’d be terrible for her reputation. At worst, if Bianca were to completely lose her head, they’d get her disowned.
She had no desire to be poor and resentful, shackled to a life of relative poverty by her misguided infatuation. Surely, after the shine wore off, she’d realize she’d given up everything she ever wanted out of delusion and a deep-seated desperation to be loved.
She couldn’t do that again.
