Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(80)

I sidestepped easily to the women's instead. Most of the idiots in the club wouldn't be caught dead walking into the women's, too afraid they'd get heckled. But I was a regular in here, although usually with a…friend in tow.

I smirked as I opened the door. The women's restroom in the bar wasn't the freshest ladies’, I was sure, but it was world's away from whatever had happened in the men’s. It even smelled all sweet, and—

A soft gasp sounded from the stalls, an obscene wet clap of skin.

I grabbed the handle of the door before it could slam, guiding it shut and grinning as I listened to the girlish whine and low grunt of the couple.

"Filthy little thing, aren't you?"

I froze at the familiar rasp and the answering feminine keen.

"Slutty, slick hole," Chance growled.

"Chance, please—"

"You'd take two cocks here if you could, wouldn't you? And another here—"

I didn't know where the fury came from. Envy, not worry for the girl. Shock that he would say something like that to her, an omega, and not just a worthless shit like me. The final snap of tension after a day of winding me up. But whatever the trigger was, the anger shot free, lashing off my tongue.

"Hey! Get out of there. Now!"

I hadn't used my bark in years, and the last time had been to keep some fool prospect from burning his skin off on a hot welding iron in my shop. The sound was rusty but effective, and heat flashed through me, shame and anger and arousal burning up to my cheeks and down to my groin as I clenched my hands at my sides.

Two figures came stumbling out of the stall, the door banging hard behind them. Chance's arm was around the omega's shoulders as she cowered, her face pressed into his chest. His pants were barely hanging onto his hip, rigid cock not yet tucked away, and my mouth watered at the sight of him. He was livid, face red and flushed, chest panting, gaze as sharp as the tip of his throwing knives.

"What the fuck," he snarled as the girl he held trembled.

I gaped at them. I hadn't been thinking, and realizing I'd walked in on them fucking had split my head in two. He spoke to her in that same dark, mocking promise he'd used with me, and I wanted to shove him away from her for her sake, or tear them apart for mine.

"Don't play those games with her," I said, half-begging. "She's not—That's not—You're a beta, and—"

I knew the mistake I’d made as soon as the words came out. Chance's face went cool and impassive, his body straightening and stiffening, free hand reaching to tuck himself away. We'd never talked about my designation or his, but I knew how Chance felt about being a beta and what it would feel like to have me, of all fucking people, remind him.

I was too busy staring at him, shock spiraling my brain into careless mush, to notice her.

The snarl was low at first, soft and velvety, but it grew in warning and I flinched as she straightened, turning to face me. There was the creature we'd found in the van, the wild beast of a woman, tiny and dangerous all at once.

"Come on, birdy—" Chance started.

"No," she growled, stepping out from the shelter of his arm. "What did you just say?"

I shook my head, trying to swallow my own tongue since it was determined to be a bastard today.

"Say it again," she dared, eyes narrowed to slits, shoulders high and hands shaped like talons.

She was wearing a too-large T-shirt, and it skimmed around her mid thighs. She looked like a biker chick, actually, with black boots on her feet and that careless attempt at clothing, hair a mess, neck marked up.

"I didn't mean—No," I said, shaking my head again. "I fucked up, Chan—"

"You don't fucking talk to him," the omega snarled.

My eyes widened, and for a moment, I almost made the mistake of laughing, but she let out that low warning growl and my brain was finally catching up with my mouth. I bit the sound off, tensing, preparing for her scratch. I hoped she drew blood.

"You aren't fucking worth a tiny fraction of him," she continued.

"Birdy," Chance called softly, almost reverently.

I stared over her shoulder, saw the way he gazed at her back with that hunger he'd shared with me and the tenderness he never had.

"I know," I said.

She glared at me for a moment, tense and prepared to strike, and I relaxed, hoping she tore right through my chest to my heart. Eviscerated me.

"Lock the door and get on your knees," she said instead.

I gaped at Chance, but his eyes were only for her, as unreadable as ever. She turned her back to me, draped herself into Chance's chest. They were loose and soft and decadent together, perfectly beautiful and tempting. I didn't know if I was about to be absolved or slaughtered, and I realized I didn't care.

I turned, reaching numbly for the latch on the bathroom door, listening to their murmurs at my back.

"You sure, birdy?"

"I want him to see how good you fuck me. What it really takes. I want him to know…"

The lock clicked shut, and I turned back as she guided him to the sinks. There was a ledge there, the perfect height. I'd used it myself with girls plenty of times.

Chance lifted her to the counter and her legs spread, a brief and shadowy glimpse offered before he filled the space. Over his shoulder, that pretty, dark gaze studied me.