Sassy Ever After_Shaking Her Sass_Bayside Omegas

by Blake Camden

  Text copyright ©2018 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by LATIN GODDESS PRESS INC.. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Sassy Ever After remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of LATIN GODDESS PRESS INC., or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Shaking Her Sass

  Bayside Omegas #1

  Blake Camden

  One

  Angie

  “This is for you.” Oscar hands me a piece of paper on his way to the bathroom.

  “Hello to you too.” I glance at the pink sheet, wondering what field trip this one is for and whether I want to chaperone it.

  “You have to sign it,” he says over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him.

  As soon as I read the first line, my stomach drops.

  Your child has been exposed to lice.

  Dammit.

  “As soon as you’re done, we’re going to get a haircut and shampoo.” I grab a pen off the counter and sign the stupid notice before I shove it into Oscar’s backpack.

  I just got my hair cut last weekend, but I’ll get a tea tree shampoo. There’s a shop in town that specializes in lice abatement and they’ve managed to keep us bug-free for the first few breakouts since Oscar started living with me and the pack at the beginning of the school year. I hate to see his wavy locks get shaved off, but it’s better than the alternative.

  And he’s definitely due for a trim anyway.

  While he takes care of business, I go through his returned papers to see how he’s doing. His lowest score is a seven, and his highest score is a nine. Out of a ten-point scoring system, I could live with these kinds of numbers.

  When I first took Oscar in while my sister deals with her addiction issues, he was barely reading at all and couldn’t count past fifty. For an eight-year-old, it was pretty sad. But Emily and I have both spent a lot of time getting him caught up to grade-level school work, and it’s starting to really pay off.

  I only have three more days at Biters before I’m officially off the payroll there and on the payroll at Fate Advisors. To say I’m only a little nervous would be a lie.

  I’m fucking terrified.

  Not because I don’t think I’ll be good at it. I’m damn good at sex. As an omega, it’s all I’m genetically evolved to be good at. Since I was raised in a pack of breeding omegas, it doesn’t really bother me to have sex with strangers. I consider it to be 100% physical release with zero emotional attachment. For thousands of years, the sole purpose of an omega’s existence has been to procreate. My people come from a long line of breeders, both male and female, and sex is our calling.

  Unfortunately, as one of the few omegas born with a cervical abnormality that doesn’t allow for the development of a fetus, I’m not able to fulfill my purpose to my pack by birthing babies. So I provide in other ways.

  Financial ways.

  Our pack has owned hundreds of acres of land in the Santa Cruz mountains in Northern California for five generations. But despite owning the property outright, the taxes and general cost of living have made it difficult for young omegas to stay within the pack after mating.

  Since I’ll never mate, I’m working in the one industry that can bring in six figures to my pack and keep the elders fed and cared for. Being a stripper who took private clients for extra services was just a stepping stone for me. And in just a few days, I’ll be hanging up the pole and working as a daytime prostitute for Silicon Valley businessmen.

  It’s not a profession my mother would be proud of, but she drank herself to death when I was young so I don’t have anyone to judge me. At least not anyone sober enough to judge me. Tanya and I had the same chances in life, but she made very different choices. She chose to leave her family for some asshole alpha in the Rahound Pack who knocked her up then knocked her around until she was so desperate for escape that the needles and pills she saw other desperate omegas using were too hard to resist.

  So now Oscar is with me for the foreseeable future, and I plan to give him every opportunity to become the strong and successful man that he deserves. In my heart, I hope he isn’t an omega, but I’m also worried about him being a shifter. His father was a strong alpha wolf. Not the good kind who protects and serves his pack, but the kind who abused the weak and took advantage of the vulnerable.

  When he was killed, I was grateful. As much as I know it hurt Oscar to not have a father anymore, he’s much better off without that man in his life.

  Even if his only parent-figure now is a whore.

  But I’m not ashamed of who I am. I’m taking care of my people, and that’s the most important thing I can do for the Bayside Omega Pack.

  Although, if I’m being completely honest with myself, the lack of concern I have over becoming a full-fledged prostitute instead of just an exotic dancer is alarming in itself.

  I should be more worried. I should be disgusted…horrified even. But I’m not.

  As a stripper at Biters, I offered extra services to customers on a regular basis. It paid well and wasn’t a big deal. So if taking the leap to being an actual prostitute will provide a more stable life for me and Oscar, then that’s what I’m going to do.

  Regardless of what other people might think of me.

  Of course, I won’t be called a prostitute once I start working at Fate Advisors. Officially, I’ll be a relationship consultant. That’s the service I’ll offer my clients on the books, and that’s the service they’ll pay for. But if, at the end of their counseling session, we mutually decide to have an intimate interaction off the books, that is completely up to us as consenting adults.

  So why don’t I have any remorse over what I’m about to do?

  How is it okay for me to have sex with married men while their wives are probably at home taking care of their children? Am I a sociopath? Do I care so little about the family unit that I don’t mind being a vehicle for destroying one?

  I’d like to think that’s not true, but maybe it is.

  I didn’t witness many healthy relationships growing up, so maybe I just don’t know any better. Mom raised us by herself and you can see how well that turned out just by looking at Oscar. My sister Tanya has been using her body to escape her fucked up life for years.

  So what does that mean for me?

  Am I destined to bounce from bed to bed with no chance of finding a real connection…and not much interest in caring?

  Emily is sitting on my couch when Oscar and I get home. “Please tell me you brought home food because I’m starving.”

  I hold up a bag of chicken chow mein and egg rolls. “You know I wouldn’t expect you to babysit on an empty stomach.”

  “And that’s why I love you.” She hops off the couch and grabs the bag, taking it to the kitchen table to serve. “That’s the only part I miss about working at the restaurant. I can’t just grab food all day long while I’m working. Although, half the time, I was too busy to stop and eat so I guess I’m not missing much.”

  “What?” I put three plates on the table and start opening up containers. “Syrus isn’t feeding you in that big house of his?”

  Emily groans. “He’s healthy. It’s super annoying. He’s been making these green smoothies that look like…well, really bad. I’m drinking them to be nice, but I’m hungry all the time.”

  I raise an eyebrow then glance down at her belly. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you’re always hungry? Maybe
you’re eating for two…”

  Emily gasps and looks appalled at the suggestion. “How dare you! I just moved in with Syrus. I need at least a year or two of just being with my sexy alpha before I even think about babies.”

  I smile to myself. Yeah, right.

  “You’re having a baby?” Oscar sits at the table with a Captain Underpants book in his hand. He’s been reading it for a few weeks now. I know it’s a struggle, but he smiles a lot when he is reading so I’ve been encouraging him to keep it with him all the time.

  Except the dinner table.

  “Oscar, honey. Put the book down.” I pat the table beside his plate before I fill it with noodles. “And no, Aunt Emily isn’t having a baby…yet.”

  I wink at Emily and she scratches her cheek with her middle finger. Yeah, we’ll see how long she lasts before she’s knocked up by her billionaire alpha. Syrus is an attorney to the California Council of Shifters. He protects the interests of all the local packs and makes sure any negative encounters with humans or other species are erased or settled before any hostility erupts among us.

  “So, what’s new with you, kiddo?” Emily places a glass of milk next to Oscar then sits down too. “It’s been a few days since I saw you last.”

  He shrugs. “Nothing.”

  “Did you have art today?” Emily takes a bite, waiting for him to chew the mound of food he’s already shoveled into his mouth. She moved off pack grounds a month ago to live in a mansion with Syrus so she doesn’t get to see Oscar every day like she used to.

  “Yeah.” He knows better than to talk with his mouthful so he blurts out very quick answers between very big bites.

  “What kind of art? Did you bring it home?”

  Oscar shakes his head and chews faster. “Clay. Not yet.”

  And this is how the rest of the meal goes, with me and Emily trying to pry information out of him while he’s focused on getting as many calories into his belly as possible. No matter how many times I tell him to slow down because there is plenty of food for him, he can’t quite let go of the fear of being hungry that was instilled into him after so many years of neglect by my sister.

  I only wish I had known how bad it was sooner.

  “Let’s pray for our sins to the Angel of Mercy!”

  When I hear my stage name called, I adjust the wings on my back and eliminate any emotions on my face before I head out front. The slow beats measure each step I take, and by the time I’m standing in the center of the black stage, I feel ready to start my routine.

  Come on, Angel. It’s time to shake your sass…

  I work the pole into my dance in the middle and towards the end for my finale, but most of my dance is floor work. Like, literally on the floor with my legs spread while my fingers trail up and down my body as I display myself to these strangers in the audience.

  Once my thong and bra are gone, I’m left only wearing thigh-high stockings and my angel wings. I got over the embarrassment of being nude in front of strangers a long time ago. Now it’s actually empowering. I have some small amount of control over these men when they’re focused on my body. If I want something from them, I can get it just by giving them a closer peek.

  Besides, with the bright lights and the loud music, I don’t ever focus on any one face in the crowd. I just let myself move to the rhythm that’s pounding up from my feet and through my entire body. Every muscle is being scrutinized and judged, but that’s okay. I’ll take their judgment just as quickly as I take their cash. Bills are slipped beneath the band of my stockings and the straps of my wings as I saunter across the floor for a last lap.

  When the song comes to an end, I do a final sweep of the stage, collecting the bills that have been thrown at me or fallen out of my stockings. On the far left of the stage, just as I’m about to exit, I see a small stack of hundred dollar bills, fanned out into a point toward Garrett Madison.

  I haven’t seen Garrett here in a while, but I’m pretty sure this is his way of asking for a private session. He usually asks for Vickie, but she’s not here tonight. I wink and shoot him a smile while collecting the stack and disappearing from the stage.

  After getting dressed and slipping a sheer white baby doll over my bra and panties, I go out to the front of the house, looking for Garrett. He’s sitting exactly where I left him, and his eyes instantly lock on me as soon as I emerge from the back. He’s got a bottle of champagne chilling at his table, but I stop at the bar for a bottle of ice water before I head to Garrett’s table. I’ll have a glass of champagne if he offers one, but I desperately need some water first.

  “My angel,” the sexy wolf shifter says, standing up to give me a kiss on the cheek before gesturing to the chair beside him. “Join me.”

  “It’s nice to see you, Garrett.” I slide onto the open chair. “How are you?”

  “Excellent. And I’m happy you’re here tonight.”

  “Is that so?” I give him a coy smile. “Because I’m happy you’re here too.”

  He takes a sip of his drink. “Mark mentioned you’re going to be leaving him soon and moving over to his newest venture.”

  “I am. The hours are better, you know.” I finish the bottle of water and put it on the corner of the table to be picked up by a server.

  “What about weekends?”

  I cock my head, not sure what he means. “What about weekends?”

  “Will you be working on the weekends?” He sets his glass down and leans forward so his face is just inches from mine. He’s an attractive man, a little older than me, but for a man pushing forty, he’s got a great body. All wolves age well, so it’s not surprising that he looks twenty-five.

  “No, and that’s the beauty of it. I need evenings and weekends free.” I don’t bother explaining that I have a little boy at home to think about. I don’t want anyone from the club to know anything about my personal life. Mark was adamant that we never share personal details with clients, just in case. And I’ve taken that advice to heart. “That’s why I’m taking a new job.”

  Garrett leans back in the chair with his arms crossed as if he’s contemplating a response that shouldn’t require much contemplation. “I came here with a proposal for you, Angel.”

  “And what’s that?” If it requires weekend work, I’m probably not interested. But I’ll at least hear him out.

  “I’m hosting a party on my yacht this Saturday, and I’d like for you to be part of the entertainment. I’ll pay $10,000 from Saturday noon until Sunday noon.”

  My jaw drops as I process the offer he’s making. Ten thousand dollars for one weekend. That would be life-changing for me. If I had that kind of money, it would make a huge difference to the omegas in my pack who really need it. “What do I have to do?”

  “Just dance, Angel.” He reaches across the table and slides his thumb down my jaw. “All you have to do is dance for me and my friends.”

  Two

  Angie

  “Are you sure you can handle this?” I give Eli a pleading look, hoping he doesn’t say no.

  “Of course I can. We’ll be fine.” He pulls some kind of video game out of the side pocket of his backpack and waves it at me. “Oscar and I are gonna have a great time eating junk food and playing video games. This just came out last night, so he’ll be the coolest kid at school for getting to play it all weekend.”

  I roll my eyes as I reach for my keys. “Just don’t eat too much junk, or you’ll be cleaning up puke all weekend.”

  Eli grimaces at the thought. “Noted.”

  “Oscar, I’m leaving.”

  My sweet nephew comes running out from his bedroom with a pile of comic books he wants to show Uncle Eli. I kneel down and hold out my arms to give him a big hug goodbye, but he high-fives me and keeps on going until he’s at Eli’s side, holding up a comic for him. “This is the one I was telling you about. It has the baddest monster ever.”

  “Um, excuse me. Don’t I even get a hug before I leave?”

  Oscar sighs heavily, obviou
sly embarrassed by my affection in front of his buddy. “Fine.” He quickly walks into my arms then rushes back out. “See you tomorrow.”

  Eli tries unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. “Harsh.”

  “Whatever. See if I bring anything back for either of you.” I get up and dust off my knees before I grab my bag. “Okay, I guess I’ll get out of your hair then.”

  Eli walks me to the door with a serious look in his eyes. Before I can close it behind me, he gently grabs my forearm and stops me. “Text me before you go to bed tonight, so I know everything’s okay.”

  I smile, appreciating that his big-brother protection has expanded to include me now that Emily has her own protector. “I will. You guys have fun.”

  I’ve been on a few boats before, but nothing like this. Garrett Madison’s yacht is bigger than most houses I’ve ever been in and has the nicest kitchen I’ve ever seen in my life. There are three separate decks for entertaining, and each one has a small group of about a dozen people hanging around. From what I can tell, he’s invited both shifters and humans, so I’m not expecting anything too crazy to happen tonight.

  I’m not sure if I’m happy or disappointed by that.

  Garrett invites me to enjoy the bar and appetizers before showing me to a small stage on the uppermost deck. Since I don’t like to dance on a full stomach, I skip the food and head straight to the stage. Right against a wall, in the center of the ship, is a dancing pole and a ballet barre waiting for me. I make a quick circle around the area, pacing off my steps so I know how much room I have to work with. I don’t need much space, but it would be embarrassing to stumble off the raised platform in the middle of my routine.

  This should be interesting.

  My sheer swimsuit cover-up isn’t hiding much, but I slide it over my head and drop it on a chair before I step onto the stage in just a bikini. Garrett told me to keep my bottoms on, but he expects my top to come off at some point in the evening.