At least, that was the reason I told myself for why I always used condoms. The sadder, more pathetic explanation was at least this way, I could claim ignorance. I could tell myself I didn't I lack whatever masculine magic had made my cousins able to impregnate their mates. I was simply more cautious.
Bullshit.
Sai leaned to the left and opened the door while simultaneously giving the line a glare that dared them to say something about it. No one did, but more than one gaze sized me up. Those who didn't already know who I was were probably memorizing my face for when they finally made it inside.
I winked at a cute preppy guy standing in front, his eyes twinkling beneath my attention.
He was definitely a contender for Aver's Partner for the Evening, but I'd have to get inside before I knew for sure.
"See ya later, Sai."
"Yeah, yeah, save some for the rest of us," he called back, but I was already inside the narrow dark hallway.
At the coat check, I sloughed off my jacket and handed it to the man behind the counter. He was extremely thin with long, sleek, red hair and wore a slinky black dress that hugged every angle. He handed me my ticket with a demure smile.
"I was wondering when we'd see you back," he purred, letting his fingers linger in my palm.
My lips stretched into an arrogant grin. "Here I am."
He propped his other elbow against the counter and let his chin sink into his hand. "There you are." Every word dripped sex. Clearly, the man imagined the two of us wrapped around each other. But I hadn't waited weeks for this night just to stop at coat check.
"See you inside," I shot back over my shoulder as the other man fanned his face. The hallway opened to the main room, a wide square space with a dance floor and a few tables around it that were always stuffed full with far too many people than the table had been built for. There was a bar on this level as well that ran along the length of the room. Customers stood three and four people deep, waiting for their chance to catch the bartender's attention.
At that moment, there was a curly-haired red head draped over the bar top, commanding the full attention of all three of the bartenders. He said something while twirling a thick ringlet in his fingers. I smirked, and the sexy redhead's gaze turned to me, like I'd called his name. Our gazes collided, and I had the strangest suspicion that I wasn't the only person playing pretend tonight.
By then, the bouncer who manned the VIP level had either spotted me or been informed that I'd arrived because he appeared by my side, smoothly waving his arm, creating a wide berth for me to continue forward. "Mr. W, we have your table ready."
I had a similar table at every high-end gay nightclub in Seattle. That hadn't always been the case, but it had taken only a few nights of competing over the music and the other patrons to realize I couldn't do that every time. My nights out were too infrequent to waste a single moment.
My table was in the corner in a corded-off section that also included a sofa that looked out over the dance floor. Up here, where the shadows kept much of the space cloaked, I could do whatever I wanted. Some nights I spent hours just watching the dancers, writhing and rolling over one another. The sight never failed to arouse. I didn't know the people dancing, would never speak to most of them in my life, but in those moments, it was as if they'd joined together forming a single, throbbing, carnal beast for me to enjoy.
I wasn't in the mood to just watch tonight. Back in Walker County, the recent pack-related squabbling had made keeping my aggressive side hidden more difficult than ever. There'd been moments when I'd failed and had let the cracks show. Blaming Wyatt for Alpha Walker's illness had been one of those times. And if I wanted to keep that side of me back, then I needed to find someone tonight to help me take out those aggressions in a way we'd both enjoy.
There was only waitstaff in the VIP level, and my server for the night sauntered forward. His tan chest was bare. Rainbow suspenders, attached to a pair of black booty shorts, stretched and bunched over his nipples as he walked. He flashed me a smile, and I had no doubt he'd practiced grinning in the mirror to find the right intensity to make his dimples pop.
"Grey Goose on the rocks."
I'd disappointed him, skipping over the part where he got to flirt, but he'd get tipped all the same.
My attention transitioned to the dancers below. From this viewpoint, there wasn't a corner that I couldn't see. I spotted the cute preppy guy from outside. The interest I'd had in him faded, my gaze drawn to the energy coming from the dance floor.
Sometimes, I wished things were easier or that I could find someone like my cousins. I'd watched over the months while each of them had found the men they were meant to be with. I'd been happy each and every time, but the truth was I could never live like they were allowed to live. The need to prove myself had gone on for too long, I couldn't give it up now. More reason why I shouldn't waste a single moment of this night.
I looked back over the rolling mass of limbs on the bottom floor. The mess of motion and chaos made singling out any one dancer difficult.
But I had no problem seeing him.
My thighs tightened, attempting to coax me to my feet. I remained seated, giving a sharp nod of gratitude to the server when he returned with my drink. My gaze never budged, not even when I reached forward to grab the glass from the table. I took a sip, letting the crisp vodka pour down my throat. The man on the dance floor moved with a freedom I'd never experienced. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out every other sound. I sucked in a sharp breath, exhaling on a low growl I couldn't put a stop to.
He didn't wear anything especially tight or flashy: whitewashed jeans and a blue dotted button-up. He wiggled in a half circle—laughing at something one of the other dancers had said—and stuck his ass out, revealing a strip of neon fabric at his waist.
My fingers tightened around the glass. Though there were many in that very room who wore far less, I found that tiny peek of his thong to be more arousing than any of the other flesh on display.
The man beamed, his chin-length, wavy blond hair swaying with the beat. Every alpha instinct I possessed rose to the surface. It wasn't clear from the man's outfit what he was here for, but the joy on his face as he danced was clear.
I didn't know what the man had come for, but I knew who he'd leave with.
Chapter Two
Hollister
The atmosphere in the room sharpened, and I sat straight, attempting to find the cause. In any other instance, I would've assumed someone had brushed by me and that my skin had come in contact with something of theirs without me knowing. But, I didn't feel the rush of emotions I would have expected if that were the case. The feeling was more subtle, like unlocking a door I hadn't known was closed until it wasn't.
My head turned, my gaze like a divining rod attempting to locate the source of the feeling. A man with his back to us took the stairs that led to the second level and the VIP tables. He had dark blond hair and wore an expensive suit. That was all I could tell from so far away. For as many times as I'd come to this place with my friends, we'd never made it to the second floor. More than half the times we'd come to this club, we bought drinks to share, pooling our meager funds to make the most of the night. None of us were VIP-table people.