One

The dressing room is a kaleidoscope of colors and textures as women run around in various states of dress-or undress, as it were-while Poe shouts himself blue in the face to make sure everything remains on schedule. The floor is packed tonight, as it is nearly every night, but there are some bigwigs in particular that have come to scope the place out.

Poe is on edge. His anxiety rubs off on Rey, and she takes longer than usual to perfect the thick black wings on her eyelids. She doesn't have the time to be a perfectionist. She goes on in forty-five minutes, and she still needs to dress and warm up first. Fatigue scratches at her bronzed lids, and she curses her designation for the umpteenth time today. Her heat is due in a couple of days, but she feels some of the symptoms early. She's more exhausted than usual, and she's barely eaten anything all day. She has the next week off, under the pretense of going to see her friend from high school two provinces over. She isn't allowed to take heat leave. She would be fired if she tried. Exotic dance seemed like one of the few careers left that was allowed to discriminate against her designation.

Rey tried not to think about it. Her mind is fixated on what needs to be done to prepare. While Rey loves her career more than anything, she really doesn't want to perform tonight. She wants to go home and burrow beneath a pile of fifty blankets and masturbate until her fingers are raw and her vibrator dies.

But the show must go on.

She adds her false mink lashes, another layer of highlighter, and sets her face with setting spray. Rey doesn't normally wear this much makeup, but with all this talk of important guests, she feels compelled to go all out. Her outfit is simple tonight, and her favorite. A light beige, floral lace, three-piece bra, waspie, and thong from Agent Provocateur. She slides on nude, thigh-high stockings, and hooks them onto the suspended ribbons dangling from the waspie. Her Christian Louboutin heels are also nude, and encrusted with diamonds. She wraps a brown leather choker around her slender neck, and ruffles her hair a bit, so it falls in disheveled waves to just below her shoulders.

She has to fight her way to the small practice room, with all of the commotion that's going on. Four girls are about to go on stage for the snake routine. Rose is on stage now, and should be finishing up her set in the next five minutes. Her friend is doing her signature fan dance, since she'd gotten the burlesque slot tonight. She was sure her best friend Finn's bartending duty would be slacking as a result.

Rey's specialty is the pole. She knows without arrogance that she's the best pole dancer at the club. She'd taught herself the basics when she was a bored kid with too much time near abandoned playgrounds, and had foregone college to pursue the art. It was an escape to Rey. It demanded her complete focus and attention, and dictated her life. She had to regulate her diet, and exercise frequently. She is strong now in a way that she never was before, and it makes her proud of the woman she's become. She knows how people feel about her profession. She wished she cared. She'd rather make bank doing what she loved, then slave away at a nine-to-five making just over minimum wage. To each their own.

She begins her warm up routine. Rey hooks her right knee around the one pole in the room, balancing on her left leg, and crunches up using her obliques. She does ten of these per side. Her body is warm by time she is done. She sits on the floor, feet splayed wide, and does ten leg lifts, eyes closing as the familiar burn starts to awaken her muscles. As she continues, she slips into her usual meditation that the exercise provides her. This is the addicting part. Allowing herself to completely give in to the stretch and pull at her muscles. She lives for these few hours. She uses the pole as a stabilizer now, and does various ab workouts. All too soon, it is time. She is slipping on her white satin robe when she hears someone calling her name.

"Rey!" Poe shouts into the back room. He sounds frantic. Rey checks herself one last time in the mirror before she goes out to meet the floor manager. His eyes are bloodshot when they find hers, and she takes in his haggard appearance with a frown. The last few days have been unkind to his handsome features. She wonders what has put him under so much stress.

"Last minute change, you're gonna have a guest," he explains as he runs up to her.

"Seriously?" Rey balks at the man, "You couldn't think to tell me sooner?"

She's used to her routine being changed on the fly, but never has it been when she's about to walk on stage. She's prepped for just the pole, not a lap dance. Now she'll have to make something up on the fly. She doesn't normally get bumped into doing lap dances, at least not anymore. She was never a fan of grinding on drunk men who got hard at the flutter of her eyelashes. It made her feel cheap. She also fears that she's out of practice.

"I'm sorry, I just found out now. One of the guests insisted," he says, while ushering her to the side of the stage. What he means, is that one of the customers just dropped the price of a luxury suv for his buddy to get dry humped for five minutes. Her pre-heat hormones are making her more irritable than usual, and she recognizes that she's taking out her frustrations on her friend. But this is still an inconvenience, and it throws her off balance.

"No, I get it, I'm sorry," she sighs. She wants to rub at her face, but it would ruin her makeup. She settles for running a hand through her hair instead.

"Thanks, Rey," Poe smiles. An ounce of the fatigue pulling at his face seems to lift. "You got this."

She smiles at her friend, before she turns to the stage. The club is dark, lit only by candlelight at each polished, teak tabletop, and neon red lights that explode from the stage along the ceiling. The atmosphere is womb-like, and intimate. It is her home. She watches as the stage hands rid the stage of the last routines props and set up a chair for the guest.

"Who's the lucky guy?" she asks Poe, who's staring pensively down at his phone.

"Seat Two," is all he says. Poe looks to the light and sound guy, and gives him the signal.

"Gentlemen, please welcome Kira to the stage," he announces.

A rhythmic bass line throbs out of the speakers, and a soft, raspy voice drowns out the applause from the crowd. She takes a deep breath, then saunters onto the stage. Her gait is slow, and she swings her hips dramatically from side to side. She can feel the weight of the spectator's eyes roaming her body. She feels the rush from being appraised, and her heart starts to beat faster as adrenaline pumps through her.

Her eyes seek out the second seat, and she feels her breath catch.

Alpha, her pre-heat mind purrs.

He's enormous. She doesn't need to be off her suppressants to know he's an alpha. He reeks of it. He's least a head taller than his friends, and twice as wide. His muscles strain the fabric of his black button down. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and the creamy skin that's exposed is decorated in dark tattoos. As she steps closer, she can see the details of his face more, and the crooked set of his nose, and plush, firm lips are drowned out by the intensity in his obsidian gaze. She can't look away. She feels exposed in a way that she's not used to, and she swallows.

As she walks towards him, she feels her stomach twist in knots. She hasn't been this nervous to serve a guest since she first started three years ago.

His eyes have been fixed on her since she walked onto the stage, and while that's to be expected considering she's performing, she can't help but feel flattered by his singular attention anyway.

She blames her hormones.

Rey falls to her hands and knees a few paces before him, and crawls across the remaining stretch of the stage towards him. The force of his gaze is unrelenting, and she feels stripped bare. She finds herself short of breath. She leans over and grabs the tie around his neck, searching his eyes. They are impassive and give away nothing. The tie is cool against her heated palm as she tugs him towards her. He rises from his seat and climbs up onto the stage in one, lithe movement. He is graceful, considering his size. Her eyes rake over him with avarice. His friends cheer from beside him, but she doesn't hear them over the sound of her blood rushing in her ears.

She is on her knees, while he stands, looming over her. The alpha is remarkably imposing from this angle, and she feels her body grow hot as she gazes up at him. His face is hard, unreadable.

Rey's gaze stays locked on his as she squats low, her hand trailing across his chest, before she rolls onto her hands and knees away from him. She snaps her hips upwards until her feet are flat on the floor, and her ass is pressed right against his crotch. She slowly rises up, grinding her hips back into his, and trails her hands over the front of her body. Her nipples are taut, stiff peaks. She feels hot, and she knows it's not from just the spotlight. Her back is pressed tightly to his chest, and she swallows at the solidity of his body. She reaches behind her, trailing her hands down his sides, and reaches for one of his hands. Her fingers are greedy, and crave his skin. She wonders what he tastes like.

She guides him to the chair that's been set up in the center of the stage. He follows her, and sits. She tries to gauge whether or not he's even enjoying this, and beyond the dark look in his eyes, he gives her nothing. She doesn't know what to make of him, doesn't even know if he wants this. He might be mated or gay, and her gut sinks. But Rey doesn't want to think about that. Her skin feels like it's stretched too tightly over her body, and she wants to feel his muscles against her own. She has the sudden compulsion to take a bite of him, to feel him between her teeth. The thought makes her ache.

The song changes now to something softer and more sultry. The lyrics are raunchy, and downright indecent.

Technically, this is a performance for the crowd as much as it is for this alpha, but Rey's focus is singular. She's all but forgotten about the hundreds of pairs of eyes which track her every movement on the stage. Though it's not even been a full minute, it feels like an eternity has silently passed between them. She's nearly giddy with the thought that she gets to touch him, and grind on him as much as she wants.

But Rey is nothing if not a professional. She sinks back down onto her knees once he sits, and sticks her ass out as she does it, wiggling her way down. Her eyes never leave his. The air in the room is thinner than normal. She finally looks away when she starts dancing on the floor, thrusting her hips obscenely and arching her back to the beat of the music. Even now that her gaze is torn away from his, she can feel the weight of him watching her on her skin, and it makes her shiver.

She crawls before him, her ass high in the air, and flips slowly onto her forearms, raising her legs high in a headstand between his parted thighs. Her legs drop open until she is splayed wide, her thighs resting atop of his. She can feel the warmth of his body seep into her skin, and it makes her ache with want. Her pussy is thrust straight towards him, and she wonders if he can see how wet he is making her. Her pre-heat hormones make her bold, and she wants him to notice. Look at what a mess you've made of me, alpha.

She feels him tense beneath her, and his hands come to rest on the sensitive inner flesh of her thighs, before caressing down to hold her legs close to him. It's not proper. He's not supposed to touch her. She feels goosebumps rise on her skin from the touch. His fingers are fucking huge, and they easily span the width of her thighs. She thinks about how good they'd feel inside of her. How much they'd fill her up.

She uses his support to her advantage, and swings herself upwards, grabbing onto his broad shoulders for purchase, until they sit chest to chest. God, he's so fucking big. Even straddling his lap, he dwarfs her. His body is like granite beneath her. This alpha is strong, capable, her mind purrs. She inhales to catch her breath, and shudders. He smells fucking delicious, this alpha. She wants to bury her nose in his glands and drink from them like a woman starved. She was aroused before, but she feels herself slick now. His smell is heady, a potent cocktail of alpha musk, skin, and sweat that makes her pant. Rey normally doesn't scent alphas, her suppressants are too strong to allow for that. He must not be on blockers. She's fucking drowning with her want.

Rey stares into his dark, stoney eyes and feels herself falling into them. His pupils have blown wide, and the look he gives her is positively searing. He's hard beneath her, and she shudders.

Alpha wants you, her mind whines.

The intensity in his gaze makes her heart pound and her breath catch. This close to him, she can count the moles that speckle his pale skin. She eyes the thin scar that bisects the right side of his face, trailing down beneath the collar of his shirt. This alpha has fought and won. She wants to see how far the scar goes. She wants to trace it with her tongue.

His hands are still wrapped around the backs of her thighs. She is reluctant to move them, even though she knows she should. Poe was probably having an aneurism over it. She instead grinds atop of his lap, dragging her damp core back and forth over him. Even through his slacks, he feels fucking huge, and she can't restrain her whimper when the zipper rubs against her clit. Her mouth waters at the thought of him knotting her, of stuffing her tight with his thick cock. Her hands glide down from his shoulders to lightly tease down her body. Her hands trail down to meet his, and she guides them to her suspenders. The alpha gets the message, and deftly unhooks her tights from her waspie. So attentive to her needs, this alpha.

When he's done, she swings her right leg high over his head, and pivots on his lap so her back is to his chest. Her hands drift to his thighs, lightly feeling them up and down, before she bends down at the waist. She wiggles on his lap as she does, gyrating in time to the music. When she comes back up, she leans into him, arching into his touch. She grabs his hands, his fucking huge hands, and positions them over her body, moving them slowly down her sides. His touch is electric, and she can't get enough air. Her skin burns with how much she wants him.

She trails her hands to her waspie, and teases the hooks open, all the while grinding on the alpha's thick cock. When the last clasp is undone, she flings the constricting material wide open, and flings it carelessly onto the stage. The bare skin of her waist arches into the alpha, seeking out his heat. She rolls her body once atop his lap, before she rises to her feet, popping her booty in his face. She takes ahold of his thick thighs, and sways her hips from side to side while squatting low before him. She steps around him, her right hand trailing across the broad expanse of his shoulders. She can feel the tension in his muscles, which are coiled tight beneath her delicate touch. Once she's standing behind him, she leans down, smoothing her hands from his shoulders down to his belt. Fuck, she can feel his abs through his shirt. She wants to rip the offending garment off with her teeth.

Rey straightens again, and completes the circle around him. She quickly places her left foot on the little space remaining on the chair, and gyrates her hips. His face is practically in her crotch, and she sees his nostrils flare as he scents her. His eyes dart to hers, and his pupils are blown wide. The intensity in the alpha's eyes makes her want to supplicate herself at his feet, and beg him to take away the ache in her core. The alpha's body is rigid with tension, and his spine is stiff. He licks his full lips, and she feels the corresponding slick drip out of her. His nostrils flare again, and his eyes set her on fire.

She's never been so turned on in her life.

Even though she works as an exotic dancer, she never feels physically affected by what she does. Every once in a while, a good-looking alpha would catch her eye while she's performing, and she'd feel her heart stutter. But she's never felt anything like this. She wonders how much of it is the pre-heat that suffuses her limbs with want, and how much of it is him.

She straddles his lap again, and the thick ridge of his cock nestles between her folds. Rey gasps, and her eyes flutter closed. She sways her hips, riding him through their clothes, desperate for skin to skin contact. His hands slap onto the exposed cheeks of her ass, and his fingers dig into her flesh. She jumps, her eyes flying open to look at him. But his gaze is locked on where their hips are joined, and he guides her hips slowly atop of him. She is surprised by his sudden participation, and her skin feels hot.

Alpha can't keeps his hands off of you, her mind whispers.

She whimpers into his ear when he grinds against her clit, and he grips her closer. She should stop this, should at least playfully remove his hands or something, but she can't. He's panting, and his breath fans hot across her exposed skin. She wants to curl up into him, to take him out and ride him until her thighs ache, crowd be damned.

Alpha, please, her mind whines.

But she has a show to put on.

She reaches behind her, and slowly unclasps her bra. She shimmy's her shoulders, teasing the loose confines of her breasts. She slowly slides one strap down her arm, then the other. His hot gaze sears her, as he stares at her bared skin. Her nipples are tight, and aching for his mouth and his teeth. He licks his lips, dark eyes unblinking. Rey glides off of his lap, and steps close into him. She runs a hand through his thick, raven locks, and curses herself for not thinking to do this sooner. Her fingers grasp onto his hair and pull his face directly into her cleavage, all while she sways to the thrum of the music.

The alpha locks eyes with her, and his dark gaze is smoldering. The wet, velvet heat of his tongue glides between her breasts, licking the sweat from her skin. She trembles in his hold, her mouth dropping open in a soft moan.

Her blood runs hot in her veins, and she shivers. Rey loses her grip on his hair, and spins around. She squats low, and twerks her butt against him. When she bounces back up again, she sits on him fully. She glides her hands down her own body, and she feels feverish with her want. She pinches her own nipples, unable to resist giving the neglected buds her attention.

Her hands sink lower, and she pulls at the waistband of her thong. She teases it for a few moments, with the sway of her hips. It is only in the last few beats of the song, that she painstakingly drags the last garment off of her body. Her thong glistens with her slick. She's positive that his lap is stained with it. She arches her back into the strong pillar of his body, and writhes against him. Her hands trail down her body, until she cups her mound. In the last beat of the song, she splays her legs wide.

The stage darkens to black. The crowd's applause is thunderous, but she barely hears it.

The only thing she hears is the frantic beating of her heart in her ears, and her shallow breaths. She moves to get off of the alpha, and spins around to look at him. He stands with her, and he towers over her. Her breath catches in her throat. Even in the dimness of the club, she can see the naked lust in his obsidian eyes. Another trickle of slick trails from her thighs. She feels frozen, now that she's no longer performing, trapped beneath the heat of his gaze. The whole dance lasted just over five minutes, but it feels like her world has been ripped apart, and hastily thrown back together in that time, with this alpha in the center of her orbit. While he looks at her, she feels his hand swipe at the inside of her thigh, catching a drop of her slick. He raises his thumb to his mouth, and sucks. She forgets how to breathe as she watches him, and more slick trickles between her thighs. She's aching for him. Rey has half a mind to drop to her knees and beg him to fuck her here and now.

"Thank you, omega," he purrs. His voice is impossibly deep and smooth, and she feels it in her chest. Warmth flutters down her spine at his praise, and it makes her fingers tingle.

Alpha is pleased, her mind sings.

Then his words compute in her brain, and her blood runs cold. She stares at him, eyes wide. That sinful mouth of his quirks up in a smirk. His eyes glint in a dark promise, before he turns to walk back towards his seat.

She practically runs from the stage, nearly tripping over her feet in her haste to gather her discarded clothes. Her hands are shaking. She's shaking.

He knows. Even with the heavy dosage of her suppressants, he knows.

She feels panic flood her, warring with the arousal that heats her system.

What if he mentioned it to his friends, and the word spreads from there? What if he exposed her?

She couldn't afford to lose her job. She would never have an opportunity like this again.

She'd be damned if she let the stupid, sexy alpha get in her fucking way.