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Iggy growls, and Jess puts his hands up in defense. "I mean no disrespect. I'm playin' man. I love Im, she's a doll. Glad she's got some good guys watching her back."
Red leans a little closer and lifts his chin, "How do you do it? I can't believe I'm saying this, acting like every other meathead fucking alpha I swore I'd never be, but… fuck, I'm fighting with myself, here, man. I want to go inside and stop her from dancing in front of other people. But I also wanna watch her… fuck, man, I don't know… shine. I want to watch her shine. How do you watch Roxy take her clothes off in front of all those people and not lose your shit?"
"You kiddin' me? Roxy's a ten. More importantly, she's my pack's ten. We love it. I love it."
"You don't get jealous?"
He tuts, "Nah, who the fuck am I getting jealous of? Those fuckers who watch her dance and wish she was theirs? She takes her clothes off to dance, she loves her job, but I'm the lucky asshole she goes home with. What kind of man would I be if I took that from her?"
Iggy's the first to respond, in usual Iggy fashion, by plowing between the three of us and whipping open the door to the club, storming inside.
We haven't exactly made up with Imogen, we're no closer to finding a solution to why she won't be with us publicly, why she's still technically engaged to another pack, but none of that means anything when the reality of our situation settles, and we realize, collectively, that what she needs matters most. We may not understand it yet, but if we're meant to be her partners, her pack, then we need to show up.
Chapter 22
Iggy
She dances on stage, and for the first time, we get to watch her totally uninhibited, her indecently attractive scent on full display, and with full knowledge of her as our scent-match; even behind the black feathered mask, she looks like she's dancing just for us.
Fuck the impasse.
Besides. She walked in here tonight, to my club, my territory. As far as I'm concerned, gloves are off.
Despite how busy the club is, we stand out in the crowd, drawing attention from everyone around us. It's no different from any other night except tonight, I don't want anyone's attention. I don't want to be bothered with mundane work shit or gossip from the neighborhood.
All I want is her.
Even though she knows we're watching her more intensely than ever, she dances unfazed and graceful as fuck.
I took that shit Jess said to heart, and now I get to watch this beautiful fucking angel move her body, dance, like my brothers and I are the only ones in the room. My alpha sits back, poised and ready to attack any fucker who attempts to touch what isn't theirs, but otherwise, he's content to let her shine. Because that's what she does.
I slip into the shadows, hidden by a set of velvet curtains. But she knows I'm here, watching, even if she can't see or scent me.
With every slow spin on the pole, she pauses briefly in my direction, as if to taunt me, tease me, punish me for letting her walk out that door last night.
Red and Cass boldly sit along the catwalk right there in the middle of all the customers.
I suspect, given the subtle clench of her thighs, her omega doesn't give a shit she's in public. She wants her mates, and goddamn, every time she saunters past them, she shakes her hips a little more, putting an extra dip in each roll of her hips. I laugh to myself as my brothers shift uncomfortably in their seats, ignoring the same move from half the men watching her.
I want her to make it filthy. I want to do something so explicit it would be illegal up there on stage in public, and when she lowers herself to the ground, splitting her legs open in a wide split, leaning forward toward Cass and Red, her pussy pressing against the floor, I swear to christ I can smell her slick from here.
My alpha energy chokes a vice grip around my cock, begging to caress, to own every inch of her. She falls into dance moves I've never seen her use on stage, way more erotic than her usual set. And then, fucking kill me now… her hands go behind her as she arches, throwing her head back, then her bra slips off… and my girl is fucking topless.
Cat calls and whistles pull me out of the fog, and I step closer, ready to take control and claim her right here, right now, fuck all these people, but Red bares his teeth and growls. I can feel the vibration from here, his intense alpha dominance casting a net through the club, claiming the omega on stage.
Her typically straight posture sways slightly, tits bouncing, but she pulls it together. With her muscular thigh wrapped around the pole, she dips down, swapping her strength into her arms while pulling herself up off the ground, then swinging her body around in a perfect fireman spin.
She makes a point to stay away from Red and Cass, no longer casting eyes in my direction, for the remainder of her set, but I can tell it took effort.
Right at the tail end of Imogen's last song, I catch Roxy in the employee hallway.
"Yo, is this Im's last set for the night?"
"Yeah, it's finally slowing down. I'll go on and dance till closing. Why, is she okay?"
"Yes. Room four is booked." Ducking down the hall, I ignore Roxy's echoing laughter.
Sure, we didn't so much leave things up in the air last night as we did come to a standstill, neither willing to budge. But if I take one more step without climbing on top of my omega, I might seriously lose my shit.
