Mark & Don’t Tell (Forbidden Scents #2)

Chapter 1

One

DARIA

“We should start with the butt plugs,” Arnold says, gesturing to the array of toys spread across the conference room table, courtesy of Good Vibes.

The sex positive adult store is a prospective client, and Mandy, my boss, has called us all in to brainstorm. And Arnold is an idiot.

Holding up my hand, I shake my head. “I’m all for butt plugs?—”

“I bet you are.” He snickers.

“One, fuck you, two, starting with butt plugs first is a bit aggressive, don’t you think? Good Vibes is all about elevating the adult toy industry and starting with this”—I grab a little pink plug—“is cute, but we want to make people comfortable, like they can trust Good Vibes.”

Arnold’s upper lip curls in annoyance. “Actually?—”

“No,” Mandy says, cutting Arnold off. “Daria is right.”

Do I smirk? Abso-fucking-lutely. Arnold is a total dick. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, but Arnold is just...

“You’re taking her side again?” the alpha asks with a huff.

An entitled asshole. And frankly, I’m a little tired of alphas and betas as of late, ever since the last pack that courted me cheated. And the one before that said it was me, not them, and the one before that, well, you get the point. My many attempts to find love have failed miserably. No matter how badly I craved a pack, fate screwed me over and over, and the bitch didn’t even let me come. I’ve spent most of the last year swearing off love and avoiding all things dating. Avoiding all things alpha and beta.

Of course, there’s no avoiding Arnold, though. We work together at Moon & Rock, one of the best marketing firms in Norfolk, Virginia, and we’re both in the running to cover Keisha’s spot as Marketing Coordinator once she takes maternity leave in two months. It’s not a permanent position, but it’s a stepping stone. I’d be able to prove that I can handle the duties, and if I play my cards right, I might be the next candidate for a promotion.

I’ve only been with the firm for a little over nine months, but I’ve worked my ass off. Mandy knows and appreciates it. Unfortunately, Arnold has done the same.

Fucker.

I’m determined to win this client over.

“Maybe we should start with the nipple clamps,” Cece suggests.

“Are you kidding me? You think nipple clamps are the next best option?” Arnold snaps, unnecessarily taking his anger out on her.

I hate that I agree with him, but I’m not about to let him make her feel like an idiot. “It’s honestly a lot better than your idea.”

“Children,” Mandy warns but says nothing else as she circles the table. These meetings can get a little intense. It’s part of the process , she always says.

It’s a bit like the Hunger Games , only instead of fighting to the death with weapons, we’re battling over an approach while wielding dildos.

“The butt plugs?—”

“Arnold,” I say, taking a breath, “can we stop talking about the butt plugs for a few minutes and pivot?” There, how’s that for professionally saying shut the fuck up ? Mandy might let us fight, but there are some lines I shouldn’t cross. Telling my co-worker to shove a butt plug up his ass is probably one of them.

He scowls at me and leans back in his chair so hard, it creaks in protest. “Pivot away, Dori.”

I ignore him purposely messing up my name and eye the selection of toys. There are fleshlights, high-end dildos, vibrators, nipple clamps, chokers and collars, blindfolds, ball gags, handcuffs, and more. Oh, and can’t forget the butt plugs. Pushing out of my chair, I reach across the table and grab the mask.

Arnold scoffs.

Maybe it’s time to revisit impaling him on a plug.

The mask is made of soft satin or silk, and I run my fingers over it. “They’re not only selling toys, right?” As I glance around, Jane nods at me in encouragement. Smiling at my work bestie, I continue, “It’s an experience. The mask, the vibrators, the freaking butt plugs, they’re all part of sexual exploration. It’s sexy self-discovery. It’s enticing.” Mandy stops next to me, and I glance at her.

She takes the mask from my hands. “Good. This is good. I want everyone to run with this for the client meeting next week. Bring your best work.” She glances at Arnold. “More than butt plugs.”

He frowns and nods, pushing away from the table as everyone else stands. I start to gather my things, but Mandy’s hand falls on my forearm.

“I’d like to talk to you.”

Shit. Did I take it too far? Nerves swim in my stomach as everyone makes a quick exit. Jane shoots me a questioning look, which I return with a shrug. She twists her mouth to the side but slips away, leaving me alone with Mandy.

My boss is a beta with long, glossy brunette hair and a clear complexion. She wears just enough makeup to highlight the pretty streaks of green in her hazel eyes, and her outfit is banging—a tight black-and-white pencil skirt with a sheer white button-up top over a silky black camisole.

“So,” she begins, gently setting the mask on the table, “you seem to already have a feel for what Good Vibes wants. We were invited to a special event featuring their line of products.”

“What, like an orgy?” I ask before I can bite my tongue.

She chuckles. “Not exactly. Have you heard of After Dark?”

“You mean, the exclusive, incredibly expensive sex club that opened in the bottom levels of TowneBank? The building where the rich come to buy mansions on the upper floors, then go to play on the lower floors?”

“That’s the one,” she says with a grin. “The club is partnering with Good Vibes for a month to help promote the launch of the new line. The same line we’re pitching.”

My eyebrows rise. It’s smart to court the sex club clientele. “Okay. What does this have to do with me?”

“I wanted to see if you were interested in going to see the products in action.”

My jaw drops open, and I fumble for words for a second. “Sorry, are you asking me to go to a sex club? For work?”

She pulls a face. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds creepy, but essentially, yes. I’m offering you an opportunity to research the product and how it’s used. If you aren’t comfortable, I could ask Arnold?—”

“I’ll do it,” I say quickly. Fuck that guy.

He’d probably try to find someone to try a butt plug on, and I have a feeling he wouldn’t be nice about it.

Mandy tips her head. “You really don’t like him, do you?”

I press my lips together, unsure of what to say. Mandy is cool, but she’s still my boss.

“Right,” she says after a moment. “Well, we’ve secured two spots for our firm tomorrow night. You can invite someone to go with you, and so you’re at ease—whatever happens at After Dark, stays at After Dark. There are confidentiality agreements in place. Of course, it would be good to see how experiencing the line influences your pitch, but there’s no need to come back and brief the team.”

Oh, thank fuck. I should have asked before agreeing, but I was too set on Arnold not getting the fun assignment. “Uh, do you know how it works? I’ve never been to one.”

She shrugs. “Me either, but they sent over an informational packet and some paperwork.” Studying my face, she grabs the sleek crimson zip-up binder on the table. “I want you to know you can say no. There’s no pressure here. I only wanted to offer it to you, since you seem to understand what the client wants. A more intimate knowledge of the products will only strengthen your pitch.”

One thing I love about Moon & Rock is that, after onboarding and a few months of mentoring, the entry-level team can pitch ideas to prospective clients, but only if they’ve proven themselves capable. There were fifteen people in the cohort I was hired with, and only four of us have gotten to that point.

There’s a real opportunity for me here.

I hold my hand out for the binder. “Guess I better get started.”

Mandy smiles and hands over the binder, and as the cool leather glides over my fingers, my heart flutters.

What did I just agree to?

Jane descends upon me as soon as my ass hits my chair. “Did you get in trouble for telling Arnold to fuck off?”

I scoff. “Of course not. Even Mandy knows he was being a dick.”

“What’s with the binder?” Jane tickles my neck and sits on my desk.

Where I’m thick and curvy—big tits, flared hips, thick thighs, and plump ass—Jane is lithe. Small tits, little hips, and a cute little butt. She reminds me of my other best friend, Quinn, only more outgoing and single, like me.

I lean back in my chair and check to make sure no one is eavesdropping before spilling the details. Jane’s eyes are wide by the time I finish explaining what Mandy offered.

“You said yes?” she asks with a delighted grin. “Can I be your plus one?”

“Uh, duh, why do you think I’m telling you? Quinn obviously can’t come.”

Jane smirks. “Well, she’s coming but not at the club. I’m sure her pack keeps her plenty busy.” Jane and Quinn have never met, but it’s only a matter of time. They’ll get along great.

“That’s the dream, isn’t it?” I eye the binder.

“Yeah,” Jane says with a sad sigh. She’s a beta and hasn’t had any luck finding a pack to bond with. Unlike me—jaded and bitter—Jane still has hope she’ll find a pack.

Pack bonds were prompted by a population explosion that saw alphas and betas dominating the birthing rates. Driven together by some event—sometimes traumatic, sometimes adrenaline, or even simply spending time together—a group of alphas and betas can bond, forming familial-like ties. Once the pack bonds, they’ll search for their omega.

Omegas and alphas are natural mates—their bodies and hormones are meant for each other—but scarcity changed the way mates and packs work. Instead of monogamy, an omega with one alpha, when a match happens, it’s usually one omega with a pack. Though, sometimes, there are two omegas in a pack.

Finding a fated mate isn’t a requirement, but it’s the ultimate dream, at least it is for me. There’s nothing I want more than a pack that’ll love and cherish me, so I can do the same. But...like I said. Fate doesn’t like me.

I guess, when I think about it, Jane and I aren’t so different. We’ve both been waiting to find a pack that’ll love us for who we are. But unlike me, Jane is still optimistic.

A rush of dark thoughts cuts through my mind. Maybe if you weren’t so loud and annoying.

Scowling at the memory of the unwelcome advice my mother gave me the last time I saw her, I grab the binder.

I shouldn’t have to change who I am to be loved. Yeah, I’m not quiet, and I’m not going to let alphas run me over with their larger-than-life personalities. I’m not going to settle for being treated like crap. I’m sure as shit not going to take advice from my mom, who’s never had a successful relationship.

Unzipping the leather folder, I spread it out on my desk. The left pocket holds a few packets of pills, two tubes of descenting lotion, and a few other items. On the right are two thick stacks of paperwork. I grab the pills first, too curious to leave those alone for long. Jane plucks the informational packet and eyes the little package in my hands.

“Scent-suppressing pills,” I tell Jane as I read through the information printed on the wrapping. “They last forty-eight hours.”

She nods and focuses on the paperwork, one eyebrow arching. “It says here that After Dark doesn’t allow clients in unless they’ve taken measures to mute their scents.” She mumbles through a few lines before raising her voice loud enough so only I can hear. “At After Dark, it’s important that every client feels safe from the forces of nature. To experience total immersion in the playground—that’s what they call the main floors of the club—scents aren’t allowed. Clients must take the scent-suppressing pills and use the descenting lotion as a secondary measure. The playground offers the opportunity to abandon who nature says you are and embrace your true sexual identity. Contraception is not required but is highly encouraged.”

Good thing I’m on birth control. I raise an eyebrow. “So, I could be dominant if I wanted?”

Jane lifts her gaze to meet mine. “That’s what it says. Do you want that?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Just clarifying the rules. So, no scents allowed. That’s good, right? I’m sure they’re also trying to avoid any issues with scent matching and pregnancy.”

My throat tightens. I spent years searching for my match, went through countless packs, wishing their scents were that special combination that meant we were fated to be together.

The stronger an omega is pulled to a pack’s aroma, the better the pairing and likelihood of reproduction. The same can be said for packs with omegas. And when they’re an exact match—scents that blend and complement and make you want to bathe in a tub full of that very perfume—reproduction is almost certain. Not every pack has kids, though. I definitely don’t see myself with rugrats.

My best friend’s scent matches were her stepbrothers, and babies are the furthest thing from their minds too. They’re madly in love and perfect for each other. I’m so happy for her, but I also kind of hate it because it hurts to realize true love isn’t in the cards for me.

Maybe I’m meant to settle. Maybe I should try to be more demure, quieter. More palatable. I wrinkle my nose. Yeah. No. Fuck that.

Maybe I’m meant to be alone.

“After Dark is not responsible for any scent matching that occurs off premise,” Jane finishes, setting the paperwork aside. “Are we really doing this?”

As intimidating as it seems, I’m curious. I have my own set of vibrators at home, and they’ve been working overtime this last year. It might be nice to explore options...or have fun with someone else, for that matter. I’ve never had sex without scents being involved.

Perhaps that’s what I need right now, though? Maybe I need to get out of my head and learn to enjoy myself. That’s the whole point of After Dark and Good Vibes.

Freedom to explore. Freedom to find pleasure on your own terms. I’ve spent so much of my life hoping nature and fate would be kind to me. It’s time to take my destiny into my own hands.

“I’m in if you are,” I tell Jane, grabbing one of the stacks of paperwork. There’s an injury waiver, a detailed questionnaire about limits and kinks, sexually transmitted disease disclosures and requirements, a contraception notice, and a waiver about blood loss. What the fuck is that about?

Jane blows out a hard breath. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but screw it. I’m in.”

Smirking at her, I push one of the packets her way. “Better get to work, then.” I start with the questionnaire first because that seems the least intimidating.

Tomorrow night, I’m going to a sex club. How is this my life?