амега (peterick)

douze.

My gaze follows the back of Pete's head carefully as he migrates from the stage to the bar alongside the Hot Newbie Alpha he's just met. The remaining audience members spot the advantage of their departure and disperse to fill up the empty space where they'd been standing, fighting to get the best view of me, but sadly for them I've finished my routine. Pete eyes me from the bar as I exit stage right, and I waggle two fingers in his direction to notify him that I'll be out in a few minutes.

One of the other strippers (I don't care enough to remember any of their names) chucks a hand towel at me as I walk into the dressing room, shooting me a wide grin and a thumbs up to let me know I've performed amazingly, as always. We're the only two working tonight, which always makes for the best kind of shift, because we can be alone during our breaks (emphasis on alone). "Your phones going off, by the way," she tells me before she disappears under the curtain, the buzzing chatter of the club replaced momentarily by thumping music.

I drape the towel over my shoulder, frowning as I stroll over to the long dressing table cluttered with pocket sized perfume and makeup bottles. The only person who could be calling me at this time is B, but he's working right now, and besides, he almost always contacts me through Pete, now that the Alpha has officially taken over my life in the best possible way.

I snatch up my phone from the table, and my stomach drops into my feet when I see the familiar name flashing on the screen. Of all the family friends I've ever been acquainted with, and there aren't many, Allie was the one constant in my life who actually made an effort to make sure I was ok when I wasn't. I haven't spoken to, or seen her, for years. What on Earth would she have to say to me? I don't want to know, so I throw my phone back onto the dresser and let it run through to the answer machine. She doesn't leave a message.

I take a moment to close my eyes, breathe in deeply through my nose, and out through my mouth.

There. Much better.

Resting my elbows on the back of one of the purple, duchesse chairs, I fling the hand towel onto the floor and smirk at my reflection in the star-shaped mirror attached to the wall above the vanity, pursing my pink, glossed lips. On my neck, sat just below my jaw, Pete's bonding mark throbs proudly. I'm taking extra care to show it off tonight; I want to show everybody who I belong to, and likewise, my Alpha wants everybody to know that I am his. Not anybody else's. His.

Idly, I twirl away from the mirror, not bothering to touch up my matted hair or deodorize the sweat under my arms, because masking all things sex would be a massive turn off for my Alpha. On the other hand, it might well be a massive turn on for Hot Newbie Alpha, which doesn't excite me very much, so, as a last minute addition to my look, I free one of the translucent, silk gowns from its hook on the wall and slip it on over my shoulders, covering myself up, but not too substantially. Then, I leave the dressing room.

As soon as our eyes meet, I skip merrily toward my Alpha, the gown cascading around my thighs like a superhero cape. Pete smiles and opens his arms to catch me, and I hop heavily into his lap, beaming brightly, straining my neck to deliver him a passionate but sloppy kiss. He moans against my lips, eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise. Kissing is definitely up there on our Favorite Things To Do List, as well as other fun activities like cuddling and dry-humping. We haven't had proper sex yet. I hope we do soon, though.

"What's with the cute dressing gown?" Pete questions after he pulls away.

"It's a shield for unwanted hands," I explain, regarding Hot Newbie Alpha with narrowed eyes.

"Ah," he murmurs. "Don't worry, I won't let him touch you. He's nice. I think."

I frown bitterly and rub my face into Pete's chest, so furiously it should hurt, but the satisfaction of madly moving pressure cancels out the pain (science says that "rubbing it better" actually works; that's probably why it feels so good to masturbate, too). "But why's he here?"

"Breakup," Pete mutters dully.

I make a sound that's halfway between a groan and a humph. "I'm thirsty."

"Ok." Pete is definitely annoyed. I'm tired and I'm grumpy and Pete doesn't like it, so he's giving me the ignorant silent treatment. "What do you want?"

For him to kindly notice my existence, is what I want. He's not even trying to take part in the conversation that B is having with Newcomer, just sort of listening mindfully but not really caring. The worst part about having an Alpha is needing their attention 24/7, but realising that consistent emotional availability isn't exactly their finest skill. They are impossible to please most of the time, and the only effective way to attract their scrutiny is to be a miserable, insolent, dickhead.

I push myself away from Pete's chest and swivel myself around in his lap, very deliberately wriggling about as much as possible. Upon reaching the bar I hook my toes over the foot rail and lean over it on my forearms, sticking my butt high in the air. It most certainly distracts B from what he'd been venting about. "May I have a sex on the beach, please?" I ask him innocently.

He spins to the back bar, grabs vodka from the top shelf, peach schnapps, cranberry, orange and pineapple juice from the chilled shelf ("the very latest in eco engineering, for your COOLEST cocktails"), and a glass and mixer from under the main bar, where he now returns to begin pouring and shaking the whole thing together.

I feel Pete squeeze my ass lightly in an attempt to pull me back into his lap. "Aw, baby, you're too kind."

I hang my head upside down and glare at him from between my elbows. "It's not for you."

"Well, I can't see who else it could be for," he says. He grins as he grips my waist and yanks me forcefully backwards, causing me to nearly break my ankle in the process when my foot slips into the gap between the bar and the foot rail.

I wiggle my foot free and whine. "But Petey-"

"You're not drinking."

"Just one!" I exclaim.

"Nope."

"Whatever."

"Don't be a brat."

I think Newcomer may be about to turn invisible and leave. B looks glad to be a Beta, and he's never glad to be a Beta. I smirk at Pete and tap him two times on the top of his head. "Good Alpha."

He beams. "I try."