Nicole had always hated the idea of night clubs.
Now, sandwiched between fellow rookie Champ Hardy and another of Purgatory’s finest, with her nose stuffed full of the reek of Alpha spunk, she could quite easily narrow down the why .
She would never fault the girls working in this kind of place for trying to make a living, but the men and women that watched them with hungry faces and lust-glazed eyes - well, she could find plenty of faults in such a crowd.
Nicole wasn’t so self-righteous as to exclude herself from her internal tirade; she should never, ever have accepted Braxton’s invitation, but she was the new alpha in town, even greener than Hardy on the grounds that she was an outsider and he was homegrown.
And she had been so, so desperate to fit in with the rest of the deputies that, when Braxton had proposed she’d join them in their “bar hopping expedition” as he’d put it, Nicole had been more than happy to stammer a flustered: “Sure, what time?”
To be fair, the night had been going well for the most part. She’d wiped the pool hall’s floors with Hardy’s blustering ass (much to everyone’s amusement) and grown progressively warmer and tipsier as they went from bar, to pub, to drinking hole.
Then, they’d come to Pussy Willows.
The place itself was the most unassuming strip joint Nicole had ever laid eyes on, if one didn’t account for the glaring neon sign at the entrance. Like much of Purgatory it had seen better days, but there was even more of an air of desperation about it, which she could almost taste in the back of her throat, as rancid as week old cigarette smoke, whenever she breathed. Perhaps because the place lay at the edge of town, past railroad tracks that hadn’t seen an actual train go by in more than fifteen years, the club felt… Forgotten was the best word she could come up with. Discarded, as if someone had built it there and then removed it from the town’s collective memory.
It was the dark corner of Purgatory’s mind, where all the most obscene, debasing thoughts were stored and kept, and, when they’d stepped inside, she could not help but feel like she was about to be devoured by some malicious God always in need of sacrifices.
“Well, fuck me if that isn’t a fine piece of meat.” Champ’s half-snarled, half-whined words derailed her train of thoughts, and Nicole shot him a puzzled look. He was leaning forward, hands clasped so tight around his half-full glass of beer his knuckles had bleached of color. Nostrils flaring and mouth agape he looked like a hound who had scented prey, and Nicole couldn’t help but follow his gaze.
Her eyes travelled across the crowded club, coming to rest on the prettiest girl she’d ever seen. Petite, with hair of a rich brown, honeyed hues scattered among the locks tumbling in loose waves down her bare back, she moved with the ethereal grace of a forest spirit. Nicole watched mesmerized as the nameless brunette drifted closer, only belatedly registering the fact that she was gliding in their direction with a tray loaded with fresh pints that one of the other deputies must have ordered.
The scent swirled down her lungs a moment later, insidious and unseen.
She managed, strangled and suddenly dry-mouthed while her blood rushed south.
Omega scent, potent enough to make her eyes water. It made Nicole think of washed out sunlight and early morning mists, and the blossoming of the first roses in the month of May. She wasn’t the only Alpha enthralled by it either - the girl was leaving a trail of turned heads and rising cocks as she cut through the milling crowd.
“Heard you can get private dances if you pay enough money,” Champ’s voice had roughened with lust, and, when she managed to tear her eyes away from the omega, he winked and licked his lips, “if you catch my drift.”
Nicole scoured her mind for something - preferably sarcastic - to say, but then the omega was right there, and her thoughts became as tangled as a ball of wool happening within paw-shot of a kitten. She stared helpless, the omega’s bare breasts swinging freely as she leaned forward to place their drinks on the table. The girl’s hair only partially obscured nipples of a dusky brown seemingly made for sucking and Nicole found her mouth watering at the thought.
When their eyes met, however, the spell that Nicole had fallen under shattered.
The omega stared into her eyes with the sort of broken look Nicole had seen sometimes in addicts, or people who had turned the going in and out of jail into an art form. It cut her deep, bleeding her like a shard of glass lodged under her skin, somewhere that she could not reach to pluck it out, no matter how hard she tried.
Up close, it was obvious that the girl was holding herself together by sheer force of will, a spark of stubborness still smoldering deep in eyes that shone hazel one moment and shimmered green the next. Yet, Nicole could tell that whatever kept her going was on its last legs, her flame guttering and dangerously close to being snuffed out.
But, what exactly can I do about it?
“Hey baby.” Raucous and crass, Champ had reached out, grabbing the girl’s wrist to try and tug her into his lap. “How much for a little private show, uh?”
The familiarity with which he was talking to the omega, as if she was an object and therefore beneath him, made Nicole’s blood boil. Only when the chair’s armrests began to creak, did she realize she was clutching at the wood hard enough to splinter it. How dare he touch the one meant to be hers .
Hold on a minute.
She would have liked to bash Champ’s leery grin in, nevermind that it’d probably mean losing her job, but the omega spoke, and she found herself - once again - utterly lost.
“I… I…” God , but the girl had the cutest way of worrying her lip, “You have to ask my boss for that.”
“One-fifty for an half hour.”
The sneer coming from somewhere behind them almost had Nicole bolt out of her chair, hand dropping to her side for a gun that wasn’t there.
A man had sauntered up behind them, catching them unawares. Nicole had never seen him before, which was surprising when one considered how small Purgatory actually was, but she recognized danger when stumbling across it. Tall and broad-shouldered enough to be imposing, he had all the looks of a rabid wolf, the mohawk and beard he sported adding to the savage image he obviously aimed to project.
“Don’t touch before you buy, boy.” He grinned as he spoke, but his eyes burned cold, and something red flashed through them. It made Nicole’s skin crawl, and Champ actually whined, visibly deflating.
As for the girl, she snatched her arm back before going as still as a deer caught in headlights.
“How much for the whole night?”
The man turned to her, his grin broadening. Nicole could have sworn his teeth were longer and sharper than a human had any right to have.
What the actual fuck did you just say, Haught?
The amount he mentioned had Champ choke on his beer, and Nicole’s eyes widened. It would eat into what savings were left in her bank account from the move, but there was no way she’d have Champ get his greedy paws on that omega.
The word was almost lost underneath the roaring sound of the blood that thundered in her ears.
The man spat on his hand and held it out, howling with some sort of unholy glee when Nicole clasped it. His handshake was strong, crushing even, and she wondered who exactly she’d just made a compact with.
“You go with her, my little angel.” He let Nicole’s hand go and turned to the girl, placing a hand on her bare shoulder to guide her toward his new customer. The way he touched the omega confused Nicole; his hand on her was gentle, kinder than she’d expected one like him to be. “And be sure to give her a great time, yes? She’s paying very good money for you.”
The words bounced around Waverly’s mind until she was unable to remember what they meant. Leading the alpha behind her, she’d numbly turned for the stairs, her legs jellied and stomach turning in quiet little knots. This was the first time Bobo had asked her to service anyone, and although it shouldn’t have surprised her, it certainly had thrown her for a loop.
She was deeply conscious of her near-nudity. The pasties and panties she wore did little to preserve modesty, but the alpha behind her seemed unwilling or unable to comment on the curve of her ass as they mounted the stairs. She didn’t know whether to be insulted or relieved over that: everything was moving so fast.
Bobo had asked her to fill in. To fill in. That was all he’d said, that Angela was sick, and he needed his real ‘angel’, his little Waverly, to fill in. She’d gone along with it, because what choice did she have, really? But now, as her quivering knees almost refused to summit the stairs, reality was setting in as hard as a hammer to the gut. She’d have to let this alpha do whatever she wanted. For the whole night.
Good money. Maybe enough to pay off her debts. Maybe enough so that she could go...wherever there was for her to go. God knew she didn’t have a home. Not anymore. Not without Wynonna. Willa. Mama. Daddy. She shook her head, dispelling old ghosts and the juniper scent of the prairie. Her hands shook, but she managed to keep herself from running back downstairs, to the relative comfort behind the bar. Oh , how she wished she could’ve been the stupid bartender tonight instead, getting her ass pinched and whistled at.
A quiet throat clearing behind her almost made her jump, until she remembered herself: she’d been staring at the chipped paint of the door to the private rooms for what felt like an eternity, with the alpha just one step behind her on the landing, waiting for her to open it. Her numb fingers slipped on the greasy handle a few times before she managed to push it open, and lead the alpha into the hallway beyond. Up here, the air was hotter and more stifling, and, behind the doors that lined the hall, the sounds of moaning and sex could clearly be heard. The alpha behind her swallowed, and Waverly could hear her shift from side to side. She was clearly as unsettled as Waverly felt.
Waverly blushed, hard, but forced her trembling hands to be still at her sides as she crossed to the bowl of keys. She was fairly certain she was supposed to be seductive, during this part, but instead she just grabbed for a key, groping in the bowl until her sweaty fingers found the ring with the door number. She pulled out number ‘18’, scrawled in Sharpie on a paper tag, and blinked a few more times before she realized this must be one of the doors to her right. She stumbled forward on her heels, unable to look behind her to see if the alpha would follow, and tottered down the hall, beset on all sides by the sound of wet bodies slapping together and the low rumble of voices.
She knew her face was as red as a neon sign and she thanked all her lucky stars that it was so dark, as her fingers fumbled the key into the lock. The door clicked open. It took a second for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, she was greeted with a dismal array: a chintzy velvet couch with suspicious stains, a nightstand adorned with a bowl of condoms and lube, and a large bed with a set of restraints attached to the headboard. She swallowed, hard.
“Are you okay?” The soft question behind her nearly made Waverly jump, and she turned to look at last. She was surprised to find that the lean, somber alpha was definitely still as attractive upstairs as she had been down on the floor, and even more so now that she looked questioning, eyebrows knitted in concern. “We don’t have to…” The alpha swallowed. “I mean. I know I paid. But we could. Just talk for a bit?”
The stilted quality of her voice put Waverly at ease: the alpha was clearly feeling as nervous about the whole situation as she was. She tried a smile, and was gratified to find that those ginger brows lifted in relief. “We can definitely talk. Um. Maybe not on the couch, though?”
The alpha’s nose wrinkled. “Yeah, that thing...has seen better days.” She motioned awkwardly to the bed. “Um, after you, I guess.”
Settling down on the comforter felt a little bit more at ease. Waverly curled her legs under herself, feeling small and almost childlike next to the much taller form of the alpha, and the nearness of her wasn’t helping: she smelled like a field of chocolate sunflowers and a cold orange soda on a hot summer day. Delectable , in other words. It was doing things to her belly: flip-flopping, funny things, that trickled lower down. “What’s your name?” She blurted, after a few seconds of silence, and then flushed hard as the alpha looked at her. “I uh, I mean I just wanted to know before we—“
“Nicole.” The alpha finished for her. “Um. It’s Nicole Haught. Hi. I’m new in town.” She smiled, and, at once Waverly felt her spine relax.
“Hi Nicole Haught.” She responded automatically, and then caught herself in a giggle. “Sorry. Business manners. I’m Waverly. Waverly Earp. I’m… not new at all.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Nicole’s eyes were twinkling now, and her smile was low and easy. “You look pretty shiny to me.”
Waverly felt a shiver brush through her upper thighs, lifting all the little hairs on the back of her neck. Oh boy, she thought, as heat flooded the thin scrap of panties she wore, ‘just talking’ might not last long.
There was a lump in her throat, and Nicole had frankly no idea how it had gotten there, nor how to remove it. She hadn’t meant to sound so flirty, not really, but there was just something about the omega, and she’d definitely noticed the little shiver her words had caused.
Sunlight, bright over fields purple-blue with juniper. A house, rundown and abandoned, wood slowly splitting under the unkind passage of plenty a winter storm. An old stuffed rabbit, missing one of its black, button-like eyes.
Nicole blinked, exhaling hard enough to make her breath whistle between her teeth. The images faded, leaving but an after-flash burned into the backside of her eyelids, and, as the room spun back into focus, she realized she’d leaned closer, sniffing openly.
Whatever hint of arousal she’d caught was gone, replaced by clammy fear. Waverly stared at her with wide-eyed alarm, her arms crossed over her bare breasts and body angled slightly away from her.
Shit, good job, Haught.
Nicole swallowed again, but that only made the lump grate harder against the sides of her throat. It was a stubborn thing, sharp as a fishbone and hurting like a son of a bitch whenever she tried to work it loose.
In an effort to regain some composure, she dropped her gaze to her lap, knowing that her face must be burning bright enough to rival the kitch neon sign outside the club. Her own eyes went wide with horror, sparks of white-hot shock seizing her spine when she found herself staring right at a rapidly growing bulge.
Oh great. Just splendid. Fucking amazing. Thoughts raced through the tracks of her mind faster than a loaded freight train at full speed, and Nicole was hard pressed to follow them, holding on against a wave of panic until she hung to self-control by rapidly weakening fingertips. She didn’t want Waverly to think that she was like the alphas they had passed as they reached the room: grunting, heaving animals that rutted into the flesh they’d purchased until they were spent, only to come and do it all again with the next paycheck.
The irony of the situation wasn’t lost to her, however: if sex wasn’t entirely what she’d paid for, then what the fuck was she doing sat on a bed so saturated with the smell of old cum and sweat she’d reek of it for days?
She had no answer for that, so she shifted and fumbled, folding her hands into her lap as discreetly as she could. Stop it, she pressed down and her rising cock twitched in scorn. Stop it, damn you!
Perhaps all the answers she needed she could find in the almost painful swell of her erection. Nicole hadn’t even felt it start: her clit slipping out of its hood as blood rushed into her nether regions like the incoming tide, the bundle of nerves red and engorged while arousal wrapped around her bones. It crawled along the yellow-white as ivy would, until Nicole became a thing possessed with it. A puppet enslaved to need by strings stronger than steel wire.
“I’m sorry.” Her tongue worked around the words, tormenting them as they spilled out of her. They felt sore and hurting against the roof of her mouth with the same throbbing agony of rotting teeth. Waverly didn’t respond, and it only twisted her gut further.
She was exactly like the people in the other rooms, unable to deny that seeing Waverly climb the stairs ahead of her had tied her stomach into knots she didn’t think she could get rid of. Everything about the omega called to her; she was a sweet breath of fresh air in a place stuffed to the rafters with debauchery, and she may drift along the unseen currents of the strip club, but she had managed to remain afloat thus far. Nicole wasn’t sure whether it was intentional, or a quality intrinsic to her nature, but Waverly had managed not to drown.
Beautiful . The word echoed around her skull until Nicole could think of nothing past the delicious curve of Waverly’s ass, which the scrap of lace she wore for panties barely concealed. The word morphed into a yearning that filled her with the heat of a blistering desert. She longed for the dip of the omega’s throat and the delicate expanse of her small breasts. Waverly’s skin was sun-kissed and freckled, and Nicole’s mouth flooded with drool at the thought that she had paid and she had a right to taste it.
“I’m sorry.” Nicole grimaced helplessly, unable to say anything else. She felt like a broken record. She shifted again, thighs pressed futilely together. She couldn’t make herself comfortable, the comforter thrown over the sheets feeling more like a bed of rusty nails poking into her ass than the scratchy blanket that it was.
When she risked a glance at the omega she found her staring back curiously, head tilted to the side. Waverly’s posture had relaxed again, now that it seemed evident Nicole’s scenting had been a slip and she wasn’t about to get jumped, but she was looking slightly put-out, as if the alpha’s nervous shifting was becoming irritating.
“Why do you keep saying that? I don’t need your pity.” A hard note entered her voice and her eyes caught fire with words of challenge she left unsaid, but that Nicole felt were hanging between them, heavier than stones.
“I’m not-! I didn’t-!” She drew a shuddering breath and tried again. “I’m sorry because you’re obligated to sit there and talk to me when it’s clear you’d rather be anywhere else. I’m sorry because I see the way you look at me, like you’re expecting me to throw you on your back any second. I’m sorry because clearly I didn’t think this through.” She was snarling now, and digging her nails into her thighs so hard she’d leave marks behind, despite the fact she was still wearing jeans. “I paid because I wanted to… I mean… I didn’t… I… fuck !” Nicole stopped and raised a hand to press it against her heaving chest. Fueled by aimless anger, the lump had grown too big for her throat, making it impossible to breathe.
“You didn’t want me .” Waverly stated, cooly. Nicole did a double take. Her tone had sharpened and she sounded hurt, but no, she must be reading her wrong.
“I did! I do! I just-”
Nicole stood, so abruptly that the tired springs of the mattress beneath her screeched their protest. She ran a hand over her face, and turned her back to Waverly, grasping at the unbuttoned flannel she’d thrown over a tank top before heading out into Purgatory’s humid version of late spring.
On a whim, she shrugged the checkered shirt off, and faced Waverly again, offering it to her.
“I won’t be able to talk if I keep staring.” She mumbled, squirming as a flush spread across her collarbone, her skin itching as it reddened. “A raging boner won’t help much either.”
Waverly spared one disinterested look for the shirt before returning her gaze to Nicole’s eyes.
“Why? If sex wasn’t the only motivator, then why?”
Nicole grunted. The omega had latched onto that bone and she clearly had no intention of letting go unless she got what she wanted. She admired that, her heart tumbling curiously under those unrelenting green-brown eyes.
“Because Champ Hardy is a fucking asshole, that’s why.”
And you’re mine! Her alpha instincts raged, but that Nicole was able to swallow back down.
Waverly’s lips, which up to that point had been pressed into a severe line, loosened to form a grin. A moment later she was laughing, the sound crystalline and pure. Nicole thought that, if only she could hear it every day, she’d never thirst for water again.
“Not as new in town as you say you are, uh?”
Tension left Nicole’s shoulders, and she found herself swept up in Waverly’s mirth. She grinned back, laughter bubbling up her throat.
It sizzled like a live wire when Waverly reached out, fingertips brushing Nicole’s knuckles as she accepted her shirt.
Air turned solid in her lungs, and once again she could not breathe, if for entirely different reasons. Her cock strained against her boxers, tip releasing thick drops of pre-cum as it rubbed into the fabric. Nicole tried to clamp her teeth shut around a whine, she really did, but the noise filled the space between them, and Waverly responded with a strangled whimper of her own.
Oh man , she had time to think before her brain shorted out, I’m so fucked.
“Thanks,” Waverly tried to ignore the sudden jolt in her fingertips as she brushed the alpha. She could smell arousal, and her body keened, cramping at her belly with the lustful impulses she restrained, especially at that plaintive little whine that hissed between the teeth of the redheaded alpha. It sent every hair on her neck standing on end, trying to shake themselves free from her body.
The shirt wouldn’t help. She already knew it was way too hot in here for more clothing, but she didn’t want to appear rude, so she just bunched it up and placed it in her lap, preserving as much modesty as she could. “Champ Hardy definitely is a fucking asshole, and I know it first hand. He used to go to high school with me.” She tossed her hair and sniffed. “I wasn’t exactly his type back then and he always made sure I knew it.”
“Well, he was looking like he thought better of that.” Nicole informed her, and the omega in her wanted to fuss and coo over the wrinkle of wounded pride in the alpha’s expression. “So I…”
“Threw your hat into the ring, so to speak.” Waverly supplied, with a smile. She was beginning to really like this bashful alpha. And her body seemed to agree. She gripped the shirt harder with her fingers and fervently hoped that Nicole wouldn’t mind wearing omega arousal when she asked for it back.
Nicole gratefully returned her smile. “Yeah.” She chuckled. “I have a tendency to ‘think first ask questions last’ when it comes to a pretty lady.” The smile spread, and the alpha appeared to relax. “Especially when one is as pretty as you.”
Waverly couldn’t help it: she blushed, but her native forthrightfulness gave way. “You must be joking. I’m the bartender. Hate to have to break it to you, but you got conned. If Angel was here you’d really have a night worth paying for….I’m just filling in.”
“I don’t know who Angel is and I don’t care.” Now Nicole was leaning forward, and that beguiling alpha scent filled her nostrils. Before she could help herself, Waverly inhaled, and her head swam. She barely heard the rest of what the Deputy was saying: “I think you’re gorgeous. Bartender or not. Just you, as you are.”
Oh damn. Waverly hadn’t blushed this much since grade school. She tried to retain her composure, but her inner omega was squirming. Compliments fell thick and fast at Pussy Willows, but never as sincerely as from this shy, Stetson-wearing alpha. Her thighs were quivering and her skin ached . Alpha scent had taken over her brain.
She blinked, and wet her lips, feeling the muscles in her jaw go slack with lusty impulses. Suddenly, it was very hard to focus on Nicole’s face. Everything in her body wanted to drop to her knees and nuzzle against the bulge she saw rising between the alpha’s lean, muscled thighs. And oh, what a bulge it was. The flush on her cheeks rose higher and hotter as she tried to avoid staring. She was losing that battle.
“Oh shit.” Nicole suddenly shifted and crossed her legs awkwardly, looking absurdly chagrined. “I’m sorry, I—“
Waverly spoke at the same time. “You don’t have to—“
They caught each other’s eye and shared a weak grin. Waverly was surprised by the easy camaraderie she already felt with the taller redhead. “You go first,” she offered. “But only if you aren’t going to apologize again.”
Nicole had the grace to blush. “I can’t help myself, I feel terrible.” She gestured vaguely to her groin, looking uncomfortable. “This isn’t a...you know...….or anything. I just...oh god this is embarrassing.”
Waverly took pity on her. “It’s okay.” She tried to inject a wave of calming omega pheromone into her voice, and it appeared to be working; the alpha took a sniff and her face went blissfully dumb for a moment. Just a moment, though. Damn, she’s hard on herself. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Lots of alphas have trouble with the smell in here. It makes even the bouncers pop boners.” She smiled. “And I know the girls downstairs would be flattered.”
Nicole gave her a nonplussed look, with a swift shake of her head, and the omega felt her belly do somersaults as the tension in the air fairly crackled. “It’s not the smell, and the girls are lovely, but it’s not them either. It’s you.”
The alpha swallowed, and Waverly watched her throat bob, mesmerized, as hairs she didn’t even know she had lifted all over her arms and neck. “You do this to me. I was gonna just drink a few with Champ and the rest. Omegas never do anything for me, not since...well, not for a while. But you . Something about you.” Her eyes were dark pools, and Waverly was leaning forward, ready to sink deep. “You make me crazy just wanting.”
There was a far-away popping noise inside of Waverly’s head, as if something intangible had snapped itself free of its tether. She let out a whimper that was ungainly as it was unexpected, and lurched forward, pressing her lips to the redheaded alpha’s before she could lose her nerve. To her gratitude and delight, strong arms came up to wrap her, supporting her in her headlong rush of desire. She shuddered against Nicole and moaned into her open mouth, letting her tongue flicker out to tease against the deputy’s red lips.
She didn’t have to tease long, Nicole’s lips readily parting to grant her access. The alpha’s tongue slid against hers, soft and messy, and it left Waverly panting for more.
Waverly had completely forgotten that she’d draped Nicole’s shirt across her lap, and, when she’d unsteadily climbed to her feet to close the gap separating her from the Alpha, the flannel had fallen to the floor.
Now, with the both of them victims of desire, caught in its web as if they had been glamored, it ended up trampled under their feet.
Waverly was dimly aware they were moving, or rather, that Nicole was allowing her to push them somewhere . Somewhere away from the uninviting-looking couch and the old bed, a destination her brain - which was misfiring worse than a choked engine - wasn’t able to name.
Only when she heard Nicole’s back smack into the far wall, did Waverly register what had happened. She’d backed the alpha into the wall, and the other woman had let her. Never, not even in her most vivid dreams, had she imagined something like this. Always, when the stark reality of her current situation became heavy enough that her mind found an escape during sleep, Waverly saw herself on all fours, legs spread wide and cunt dripping as an alpha of her choosing split her open. Filled her. Claimed her. Knotted her. It all happened far away from Pussy Willows, the stink of sweat and old spunk replaced by the gentler scents one breathed on the prairie, on a warm bed and under soft hands. The sex she imagined was always soft too, gentle and slow and a soothing balm over her wounded heart.
What she was experiencing now was hot and wild, a raging fire that scorched her lungs and brought her blood to its boiling point. Nicole’s hands, which had fallen to her ass squeezing it tightly, were hot too, and burned like a firebrand against her skin. The sensation made Waverly keen, the sound disappearing down Nicole’s throat as the alpha kissed her with fevered urgency.
The thought darted, white-hot and frantic, through Waverly’s lust-addled mind, even as she pressed further against Nicole. There was practically no space left between them, the alpha’s toned body moulded against her own as if everything that had occurred during their respective lives was meant to bring them to this forsaken place.
“Fuck.” She breathed a moment later as they broke apart, chests heaving as they gulped down air. The room had grown hot and stifling with their combined scents, and all that she could smell was Nicole. Traces of the alpha’s pervasive smell clung to her sweaty skin, saturating every pore, and the rest trickled down her throat like water. Waverly inhaled again, lips pulled back to expose her teeth. She wanted more; thirsted for it. Legs weak, head cloud-light and fluffy, she swayed in place, fingers scrambling along the plaster until she found purchase around Nicole’s strong shoulders.
“We should…” Nicole’s eyes were wide and staring, her pupils reduced to tiny specks that swam, almost lost, in the warm brown of her irises. “We need…” Waverly watched her throat convulse as she swallowed, and took a little comfort from the fact that Nicole seemed as affected as she felt.
“To stop…” She completed for them both.
Shitsticks, but I don’t want to .
Perhaps sensing her thoughts, Nicole tightened her arms around her.
“I just… I don’t want you…” The alpha trailed off and averted her gaze, the blush gracing her cheeks one of the prettiest things Waverly had ever seen. What Nicole meant was clear; she didn’t want Waverly to sleep with her only to regret it later, aware that the money she had paid for her time put an obligation between them.
The concern this alpha showed was what ultimately convinced her that spending the night together was exactly the right thing to do. Now I just have to make her understand this is what I want.
Somehow she knew that the copious amount of slick dripping down the inside of her thighs would not be proof enough for the Deputy.
Waverly wasn’t looking for a savior - when she’d found herself bereft of family and her father’s creditors had come knocking Bobo had helped, and she did owe him. People may wipe their boots with the Earp name and badmouth her sisters and her late father at every turn but, to her, the family name still meant something, even in those times it bore the heaviness of a curse.
She wasn’t trying to latch herself to Nicole either, hoping that the alpha would end up so caught up with her that she’d request her time again and again, until she could pay her way out of town. Waverly had a feeling that, if Nicole became aware of her predicament, she would insist in lending her a hand, and the thought was enough to momentarily dampen her lust.
Indebting herself to a different person, even one as well-meaning as this alpha seemed to be, would change nothing. No, Waverly would dig her way out of this personal hole of hers alone . Which didn’t mean she was about to forego the comfort Nicole’s attentions offered, if only for one, fleeting night.
“I want this.” She reassured, pouring soothing pheromones into the air. When the alpha’s lips parted - words of protest undoubtedly forming on her tongue - she placed a gentle finger across them, silencing her.
“I want you .”
The way her mouth had watered when she’d spotted Nicole’s sizeable bulge sprang forth in her mind, and she smirked, letting mischief brighten her eyes.
Waverly may not be one of Bobo’s whores, but she had picked up a thing or two by watching the girls interact with the clients on the main floor.
Deliberately, letting her spine bend like a willow swinging in the breeze, she sank to her knees, her hands rising to the brass buckle adorning Nicole’s belt, her mouth ready to worship.
“Let me show you.”