Page 29 of The Alpha's Chosen Outcast

She giggles. “I know.”

“And you are?”

“Oh, right. I’m Amber.”

“Would you like to go someplace more private with me, Amber?”

She giggles again. “Absolutely.”

I hold out my hand, and she takes it, a grin breaking out on her face. She’s practically shaking as we head to the back, where the private rooms are. I wink at Samuel as I walk past him. He nods back at me.

I know the back rooms pretty well, and I know I have a favorite. Two doors down from the rear hallway, I open one of the doors and duck in. There are several couches, a small bar, and large cushions on the floor.

“You want something to drink?”

Amber is looking around the room, clearly having never been back here.

“Uh, yeah. Do you have any vodka and cranberry?”

“Sure.”

While she searches around, I set to making the drinks (vodka and cranberry for her, whiskey neat for me) and bring them over to the couch, motioning with my head for her to follow me. After I hand her drink to her, she takes a long sip and sits down on the couch.

“Mmmm, this is good.” She sips again.

I down half my whiskey in one swallow. My tolerance can take it. Most wolves are that way. She’s halfway through her drink when she catches me looking at her and breaks out into that grin again.

“Like what you see?”

“Oh yes.”

She stands up, takes one more sip of her drink, and puts the glass down on the small table by the couch, leaning over me as she does.

“Do they have any music in here?”

“Yeah,” I say, “I can hook it up to my phone. What do you want?”

“Something sexy.”

I find something with a decent beat, and it starts to play over the speakers.

I sip my drink as she begins to dance in front of me, locking on my eyes.

Her moves are sultry, accentuating her hips and showing off the rest of her curves and flexibility. Then she hooks a finger in one strap on her dress and removes it, doing the same with the other.

Somehow, she shimmies out of that skintight dress and is now dancing in her bra, panties, and heels. She comes over to me and lands one knee on either side of my waist, straddling me.

Apparently, I picked a lap dancer. She’s grinding on my cock, her breasts in my face, and I’m feeling none of it.

I think about my claw on Heather’s throat and get hard again. Suddenly, this woman grinding my lap seems ridiculous. I don’t want this. I don’t want her. I push her away and lean down to pick up her dress.

“I’m sorry, but no. I don’t want this. Take your dress and go.”

“Did I…” She trails off.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. Just lock the door on your way out.”

I know she’s still confused, but she does as I order. Being Trey Hanover does have its perks sometimes. I hear the door lock click, and I turn to put my feet up on the couch, lean back, and let this happen.

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