30. Sabs #3
Orin takes a sip of his too, but he doesn’t comment on it, too busy scanning the area, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration.
“What is it?” I look around. “Are you planning your escape already?”
“Sorry.” He runs his hand through his thick hair. “Force of habit.”
“So you were planning your escape?”
“I like to have an exit plan in case of emergencies.” He sets down his glass. “I was just checking out the smoke detectors, fire exits, and cameras.”
I drag my straw through the blue liquid. “You seriously need to work on your dating conversation.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date,” he tells me. “A long time since I’ve even wanted to.”
I shouldn’t be as happy as I am upon hearing that.
“I take it that you don’t have a long and complicated dating history, then?” I’m curious to know more about his past, although I can’t pretend it doesn’t make me jealous just thinking of him with another omega.
“Quite the opposite.” His nostrils flare and shoulders rise with his deep inhale. “I’ve never done ties or relationships. Moving around in the military made it impossible, and since working here? I’ve been too pre-occupied.”
“All work and no play.” I shake my finger at him. “Maybe you should let your hair down tonight?”
As if the universe is shining down on me, one of my favorite songs starts blaring from the dance floor.
“We have to dance!” I’m already on my feet, draining the thirty-dollar thimble in one sip. “Please!”
Orin’s jaw clenches. “I don’t dance.”
“Sure you do. Everyone can dance. Come on! It’ll be fun.
” I sigh overdramatically when he doesn’t budge.
“If there’s an emergency, I promise I’ll let you carry me out through the nearest exit.
Okay? Until then, the only imminent danger we’re facing is me not getting onto that dance floor before this song ends. ”
He doesn’t look convinced.
“Or I guess I could dance out there all by myself in this dress?” I do a little spin for him.
His gray eyes flare possessively as he drains his drink, and slaps the glass down on the glossy tabletop. “You’re not going anywhere alone in that dress, dynamite.”
His fingers wrap tightly around mine as I lead—well, practically drag—him over to the dance floor to join the few people on it.
I twirl around, my sequins sending light scattering everywhere as I let my body move. Orin stands next to me, his arms glued to his sides, remaining statue still. His eyes dart to some of the other alphas in the vicinity, assessing them as a potential threat like the moody predator he is right now.
“Take my hand,” I coax him, clasping his when he doesn’t move, swinging it around like a lifeless club.
He’s less than impressed. “I told you, I don’t dance.”
His massive arm feels like a lump of lead as I hold it up in the air to whirl underneath it. Dancing with a corpse would require less effort than this! This is turning out to be harder than I expected.
When the track changes, a slower song comes on. This I can work with. I use the opportunity to get closer to him, sidling up against him and forcing him to put his hands on my waist.
“Move to the music,” I encourage as I shift my hips. “Just relax. You’re the one that brought me here because I missed dancing, remember?”
From the way his teeth look like they’re grinding together, you’d think he was being tortured.
“How can you expect me to relax when every single alpha in this club is looking at you like they want to bite you?” His husky voice comes out sounding more like a growl.
“Right now, it’s just me and you.” I grab his chin, forcing him to look at me. “Forget about everyone else.”
He seems reluctant, but he doesn’t take his gaze off me.
Eventually, his wooden limbs begin to loosen and he starts to get into it, moving together to the music as his hands run up and down the sides of my body.
When I turn, his strong fingers dig into my hips, as if he’s afraid that I’m going to slip away.
Fortunately, he quickly realizes that all I want to do is grind against him.
His palms rub up and down my sides as my ass circles his cock, which feels pretty damn good…
He sweeps my curls off my shoulder then buries his face into my neck. His perfectly styled stubble sends a shiver of longing down my spine as he murmurs, “You’re playing a dangerous game, dynamite.”
Grinning, I only double down on my grinding efforts. I’m no stranger to getting freaky in the middle of a dim dance floor.
I spin around again to face him. “See?” I bat my eyelashes, wrapping my arms around his neck, drawing my attention to his faded white scar, poking up from his collar. “Dancing isn’t so bad.”
His pupils blow as I rotate my hips, pushing my breasts into his chest.
“Okay, that’s it, dynamite.” He throws me over his shoulders in a fireman’s lift then carries me across the dance floor.
We snake through the bar area, past a few booths. No one pays us any attention as he heads to the corridor where the bathrooms are then slips through the door of an unmarked room, which I assume is some kind of supply closet.
“Hey,” I pout when he finally places me down. “I only gave you permission to carry me away if there was an emergency.”
“There was an emergency. My cock couldn’t handle another minute of your ass grinding against it like that without being buried inside you.”
All the oxygen is zapped from my lungs as his mouth crashes onto mine, devouring me like he’s ravenous. I let out a loud moan.
“Quiet, dynamite.” He nips my bottom lip. “Other people may hear you.”