It's Getting Hot in Here Read online

  Copyright © 2020 J.D. Light

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

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  Prologue

  DECEMBER

  I didn't really know what to expect when I walked into Slick for my job interview. Maybe half naked people running around, a couple or two in the corner fucking and the owner an old greasy alpha who just liked to sit back and get blowjobs from unsuspecting, fragile omegas who let themselves be talked into things they shouldn't.

  Okay, I guess I did know what I expected, but that was not at all what I got. There were a couple of people who were maybe wearing a little less clothing than I was, but vital things were covered. Of course, it was still a few hours before they opened for the night and the people milling about were either waiting to get dressed for their show or were among the people getting things set up for the evening.

  While people were talking and laughing with each other, definitely having fun in this environment, possibly flirting, though that was actually very mild, nobody was doing anything that didn't happen in any other normal working atmosphere.

  And to top the whole thing off, as if to prove just how wrong I was about everything, Wagoner Foster, the owner of Slick was not some greasy old man who basically footed the bill just to sit around and watch omega's dance around in barely anything.

  First of all, Slick turned out to be an equal opportunity employment establishment in the fact that there were male and female omegas and male and female alphas everywhere.

  Second… the man was fucking gorgeous and could seriously have every single person there regardless of sexuality, preference or gender. There was no need for him to be sitting back preying on anyone. He could probably crook his long, bronzed finger and people would climb all over each other just to be the first to get to him.

  "Hi," he said with a big, sexy smile, dimples popping as his startlingly light eyes––caught somewhere between silver and blue––sparked with welcome… and an underlying mischief. "I'm Wagoner Foster, you must be Jennings."

  He put out his hand, and I reached out to shake it, letting out the lightest little whimper when his strong, wide hand wrapped around mine.

  "Yeah. Me. That's me," I stuttered stupidly, probably holding on to the damn thing a little longer than was absolutely necessary, but he wasn't really letting go either, so…

  Fuck, he's gorgeous. I was going to have to be careful with this one. Someone like that could make me forget my responsibilities a little too easily.

  He motioned for me to sit down across from his desk, and I scampered over like an idiot, feeling off balance where I usually felt pretty confident.

  "I hate interviews too," he said with an amused smile and a shrug. "I'll make this easy on you. Basically, I've already decided to hire you. Your resumé is good, and I had a pretty nice talk with your old boss. He thought you were great, and I actually know him a bit from back when he and a friend of mine used to date, so I know he's a pretty good guy, and I trust his judgement."

  "Oh," I said, surprised. "Well, I guess it's a good thing you liked him when he and your friend broke up."

  He chuckled, and for some stupid reason, I blushed at the sound. "Oh yeah. They don't like each other, but I've always gotten along with Pete. It wasn't his fault Shell is horrible at dating. He tried to reason with the man. Shell just kinda thinks relationships should be easy, and when there is the slightest sign that things are even a little tense, he runs." He blinked after a moment, shaking his head. "Sorry, that has nothing to do with any of this. I think you'll do great here, if you can stand the hours. I can have you on the schedule as early as Tuesday if you're good with that. Fridays and Saturdays are a little too busy. You really wouldn’t be able to learn much, and we are closed Sundays and Mondays."

  He stood, and I stood too, wondering why he'd even bothered to have me sit in the first place and followed him to the door.

  "Tuesday would be great."

  "Great. Let me show you around a bit. We have something that makes our club a little different, and I'd like to show you that if you don't mind."

  I nodded, and proceeded him out the door, only to wait for him to walk by, so he could show me where we were going.

  I didn't watch his ass. Nope.

  He took me down a hallway with several doors, stopping to open the first one so I could look inside. There was a large window and several different places to sit. I would guess at least ten people could find a seat easily and still have a little room to spread out.

  "These are our rooms. A group will rent this room, and we'll have a couple in there." He pointed to the room on the other side of the large glass window. With the light on in the room we were in, you couldn’t see all that well into the other, but I could tell there was a lounge and a few other furnishings, set up much like a stage.

  "We have several different pairings. They basically tell us what they want whether it's alpha-omega, omega-omega, male-male, male-female, female-female… we have couples who only come here just to perform in these rooms. We even have few a throuples."

  He shut the light off in our room, and everything in the other room became clear. He flipped another switch, and the light beyond the glass went out, making it impossible to see in there.

  "We try to keep it as diverse as possible. People basically book a room, let us know what they want to see, and we set it up for them."

  Wait, did he say couples and throuples? Did they perform together?

  "Is it like… porn?" I asked, turning to blink up at him.

  He was watching my face, his pretty eyes moving over my features. His sexy lips were tilted up at the corners, and his dimples were lightly shadowed.

  "In a way. It's more like foreplay, though. They do a performance a lot like they would out there on the platform, but they strip each other and there is lots of kissing and touching." I swallowed hard, not sure why the mere mention of taking off clothes and kissing was making my heartrate spike, but I would bet it had something to do with the way his voice moved over me. "They don't get fully nude, and they aren't allowed to show off genitalia or anything like that. Basically, they just get each other extremely worked up, and that's where it ends."

  "Wow," I whispered before clearing my throat. "So, what happens to the people on this side of the glass once the show ends."

  He chuckled. "They go home. There are strict rules against fucking in here. We don't have the staff for fumigating each room when they're done. And since they have a bartender coming in and out of here to get them drinks, it's not very hard to enforce that rule."

  "That's probably good."

  "Any more questions?"

  Was it my imagination, or had he leaned in closer to say that last part? I was pretty sure he hadn't been standing close enough to tickle my ear with his breath a moment before.

  "I'm assuming that I'll be working out of here at times?"

  I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I was a single dad with very little time to indulge in even a jack-off session most days. I wouldn’t say that I was super horned up or anything, but watching other people dry hump all night and hearing Wagoner's voice on the regular might make things a little tough.

  "You can stay behind the bar if you'd like, but this is where you'll make most of your tips. These people are usually really generous," he said with a sexy smirk.

  "I bet."

  Damn that chuckle. It was a fucking toe curler.

  He led me to the main part of the club, reaching up to press a hand to m
y lower back at one point, and making me shiver.

  "Tuesday still good, or do you need more time?" he asked just outside of the hallway.

  I nodded, licking my bottom lip and just barely keeping a whimper in check when his eyes tracked the movement. "Tuesday is great."

  "Okay. I'll see you then."

  Sir, I think you can probably say that in a way that doesn't make my dick hard.

  "Thanks, Wagoner," I managed to choke out because I have manners, and a dimple popped on one cheek, making him look roguish.

  Yeah, roguish. He inspired the Victorian miss in me.

  "Thank you, Jennings."

  Oh damn. I blushed again, nearly tripping over a male omega wearing nothing but a pair of tight little booty shorts. He was hot as hell too, but even though I swung both ways… well all kinds of ways, actually, for some reason his once over appraisal didn't do near as much to my libido as Wagoner's had.

  "What are you still doing here?" the alpha in question said coldly, and for just a moment, I thought it was directed at me, and I turned quickly to ask what the hell he was talking about, but he wasn't looking at me.

  "I work here," the sexy little omega said, shrugging a flirty shoulder.

  "You know you don't. "

  Boyshorts grabbed the alpha's arm, pulling him into the hallway, and Wagoner jerked away, glaring down at him.

  "I barely even said anything," Boyshorts whined, pouting his lips seductively, and it said a lot about Wagoner's sex appeal for me that I didn't immediately imagine those pretty lips wrapped around my dick.

  In fact, for the first time in a really long time, I was more than a little jealous that the man was flashing them. What gave him the right to be so fucking sexy? I wanted Wagoner to pay attention to my lips.

  "You said plenty," the alpha growled, not looking all that impressed with Boyshort's lips.

  I eavesdropped shamelessly, knowing I probably needed to get out of there before Wagoner really did turn his irritation on me, but I was horribly curious.

  "I only told them that because I was hoping our relationship would have progressed further than that by now," the omega said, and I winced, knowing from experience that this conversation wasn't going to go the way he wanted it to.

  Alphas didn't like to be backed into a corner, and even if it was done unintentionally, they came out swinging every time.

  "What relationship? We don't have a relationship, August."

  Embarrassment pitted in my stomach for August and for myself, as I remembered a conversation I'd had once that sounded much like this one, reminding me why I tried to steer clear of romantic feelings and especially inklings that involved alphas.

  "Just get your shit and go," Wagoner said, his tone cold.

  Was that really the sweet, warm man who'd been so polite to me before? He'd probably been just as warm and polite the first time he met August, but all that had changed because the omega dared to want more than to be a fuck buddy.

  How dare August use the word relationship. What a monster.

  Okay, I didn't really know their story, and it probably wasn't exactly like mine, but I was sure the gist was the same.

  I curled my lip, shaking my head. It was really unfortunate such a gorgeous man turned out to be just like all the other commitment phobic alphas out there. I could have liked him as a human if I hadn't overheard all this.

  I was still going to take the job. It was too good to pass up, but it looked like I was just going to have to avoid interaction with the man as much as possible.

  Chapter One

  LATE JUNE

  D o not overreact. Do not overreact. Do not overreact.

  Hooking the barely there elastic material on one finger, I pulled back on the other end as far as the material would allow and let the thing fly… directly into the face of Wagoner Foster, hitting him right in the eye and making him sling the drink he'd been making all over himself and Lizzy.

  I felt bad for Lizzy getting caught in the crossfire, but I was angry enough that the fact that Wagoner's eyeball was still in his fucking head pissed me off all over again, and I stepped directly in front of him, snatching the panties I'd just assaulted him with and immediately shoving them in his mouth.

  "What the hell are these?" I yelled in a very overreactive way.

  He spit the material out into his hand and lifted the now wet thong panties up between us, blinking at them a couple of times before a slow smile quirked up one corner of his mouth. "Is this a hint, Jen-Jen? Is this your way of telling me you want to spice up our love life?"

  "Why was that in the middle of my stock room?" I demanded, not entirely sure how this man always managed to get me to the point where I didn't recognize the psycho I became.

  Seriously, anyone who knew me, knew that I was not the type of man who regularly tried to shove a pair of panties down another man's throat. That was definitely not how I was raised. Jennings Bustler-O'Brien was very good at bottling his emotions and never let anyone see him as anything but completely in control.

  Or, at least, I had been like that before I started working for Wagoner Foster. I had no idea how he did it, but he turned me from the guy Miranda Lambert was singing about when she said to "bite your lip and get a grip just to save a little face" to the guy who actually had to be physically restrained once so he wouldn’t have to go to jail for maiming his boss.

  One might wonder why I still worked for a man I often fantasized about murdering, but the truth was, I didn’t really have all that many options. Tips at Slick were incredible, and the hours were perfect for being at home all day.

  Working at a strip club probably wouldn't have been my first choice, but I truly loved most of the people, and as I already said, the tips were fucking amazing.

  "Why are you asking me?" Wagoner asked. "I don't wear thongs."

  I took a deep breath, wishing there'd been time for a bit of meditation before I'd come to work, but as usual, family drama had drained every last second of my day away and nearly made me late. It was just about right that it would be on a day when I had to deal with this bullshit on top of everything.

  "You're the only other person besides me that has a key to the stockroom," I said as calmly as I could muster, though the force with which I was biting down on my own teeth was sure to make my dentist lecture me… if I was even able to make it to my fucking cleaning with the way shit was going in my life.

  He held the material out in front of me like he was sizing me for the damn thing, raising both of his eyebrows. "Are you sure it's not your thong?"

  "Wagoner," I growled through my teeth. "You better not be using my storage room for fucking some dumbass omegas who don't know better." The volume of my voice was starting to rise, and like so many other things in my life, I honestly didn’t have any control over it any longer. Fury was guiding me at the moment. "There are things in there that people actually put in their mouth and the last fucking thing we need is an outbreak of fucking herpes because your disease-ridden ass jizzed all over the fucking dick straws!"

  I was pretty thankful that we hadn't yet opened the doors for the evening, since the last half of that had been shouted at a volume that guaranteed that every person in the room was now turned around watching us.

  "Jen-Jen, sweetheart," he said with that infuriating smile on his face while he reached out and grabbed my shoulders, the damp thong that I had no fucking clue where it had been lying against the bare skin of my upper arm. "I told you, it's not mine."

  "You better not be giving me a fucking disease right now, or I'm claiming workmen's comp." I cringed away from the wet panties, grabbing his wrist and steering them away from me. "Now, give me your key."

  "What? No." Both hands fell to his pocket like he was trying to protect the thing from me, and I very seriously thought about wrestling him to the floor and removing the thing myself.

  Of course, there were about a thousand reasons that would be a terrible idea. One being that something was seriously wrong with me, and any tim
e I'd made the mistake of touching the ass-nugget in the past, my body had betrayed me completely. I just couldn't afford to lose control right then when everything else in my life was all over the fucking place.

  There was also the fact that I'd heard more than one employee of Slick talk about the sexual tension between the two of us when we faced off, and I wasn't about to add more fuel to that fire by giving them a show.

  "Now," I growled, thrusting my hand at him, palm up. "Do it now."

  He blinked at me, his face caught somewhere between highly amused and a little unsure. "You can't take my key away." He didn't actually sound like he knew that for sure. "I own this place."

  "If you're fucking in my storage room, you are a danger to my stock. Give me your key."

  He sighed, rolling his eyes and dangling the panties a little too close to my face. "Jeez. It was a joke. I bought them on the way to work this evening and tossed them in there just to mess with you."

  "A joke?" I asked dryly, raising an eyebrow.

  Still with that fucking grin. One of these days I was going to wipe that damn thing right off his face. "Yeah. See?" He reached into his front pocket, the one opposite the key and pulled a receipt out for one of the local department stores, still holding the fucking panties and shoved it toward my face. "Here is the receipt."

  I reached up, pressing a finger against the corner of the eye that had started twitching while doing my best to take slow, even breaths. "Wagoner, if your joke needs a fucking receipt, it's not a very funny joke."

  He pursed his lips, tossing the panties toward the trash along with the receipt. "You're always accusing me of fucking around with all the omegas here, so I thought I'd mess with you and your precious storage room."

  "Oh," I said overly bright. "In that case, it's the funniest joke I've ever heard." I dropped the fake tone and glared. "Now give me your fucking key."

  "I don't fuck at work, and I definitely don't fuck the omegas that work for me," he growled, finally starting to look like he was getting serious.

  Who the hell was he trying to lie to? I knew the truth behind all the bullshit.