HARDCORE: Storm MC(7)

Enter Dom again, and the way he pulled me out of the way, then went all Rambo on Mr. F. Warmed my little heart. No, seriously. Made me feel watched over, safer, protected. There wasn’t much a girl could do in this kind of situation to protect herself, working a titty bar and the boss approving molestation by a VIP. I could have been seriously fucked.



And then I remembered his words: “I’m looking forward to taking your ass, make no mistake about that.” Jesus.



Let me be clear: I was no prude, and I was no stranger to sex. Fuck, I was an erotic dancer; selling the idea of sex was my bread and butter. But I was no prostitute, and I made the call of who I slept with and what we did. And no way was I into the idea of fucking Mr. F, in any capacity, least of all letting him take me in the ass. Truth is, I’d never let anyone in there before, and I did not plan on changing that status anytime soon. The way I saw it, we got a hole specifically designed for the cock. And that’s the only hole down there I was interested in filling, ever. ’Nuff said.



Thinking about the way Mr. F had grabbed me, manhandled me, and threatened me with anal rape, I started to shake. Damnit, where the fuck was the bartender when you needed her? I didn’t have anything back here in the dressing room to calm me down, to help ease me back to myself.



What I really wanted was Dom. Dom’s arms holding me, touching my skin, soothing my shivers. I wanted his power, his strength. I wanted him to make me forget all about Mr. F. But the Stones nailed it: you can’t always get what you want. I tried for deep breathing instead.



It was starting to work when there was a soft tapping at the door, and then it opened. I looked up sharply, but it was only Asia, thankfully. The angel had brought along a tray carrying two shot glasses filled with what I knew would be tequila, along with lime wedges and a couple of beers. She knew me well.



“Baby girl… that was not a good scene.” She set the tray down in front of me, and I popped the first of the shots. As it burned its way down my throat, I inhaled deeply and looked her in the eyes through the reflection in the mirror. I felt the hot wetness of tears build up behind my eyes and in my nasal cavity, but I wouldn’t let them go. I was not a crier, and I wouldn’t start now.



“I know. Just… give me a minute.” I took the second shot glass and bolted that one down, too, then grabbed a lime wedge and sucked it. Another deep breath, and I looked at myself in the mirror.



“What is going on with you and that Dom guy, Sienna? He went after Mr. F like an avenger. You do not want to shit where you eat, girl. What are you doing? People are talking. You need to know that. And getting involved with one of the security? Those biker dudes don’t play nice, and they are not here for us. You know that, right? They are only here for the Boss. And the Boss is all about Mr. F. That Dom must have a death wish, to go after Mr. F like that. This cannot end well for you, Sienna. You need to straighten your shit out.”



She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know. “Listen, Ayzh, I know. I hear you. It’s just… I don’t know. Right now, I’m really grateful he stepped in. Did you see what Mr. F did? But it doesn’t matter, I’m good now. It’s all good. Whatever happens to Dom… well, that’s his business, not mine. I didn’t ask him for anything, and I won’t. I got my plan, and I’m sticking to it. Don’t worry ’bout me, okay? It’s all going to be fine.”



“Oh, honey.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders from behind and rested her cheek on top of my head. “I do not like your plan.”



I’d known Asia for going on six years; she was my first friend in town, and we’d seen each other through a lot of bad shit. She was my rock through everything that had happened with Tania, and she got me through those first few months after her death, when I could barely think straight between my grief and my anger. And she was the only other dancer here who knew my plan. She may not have liked it, but at least she understood it, and I knew she was not trying to talk me out of it. There was nothing on Earth that could.



I let her hold on to me another several seconds, returning the hug with her forearms in my hands. Then I gave them a squeeze to let her know it was enough. I stood up to get dressed back in my street clothes: a pair of dark tight skinny jeans, an off-the-shoulder knit top in marine blue that did wonders for my skin tone, and my favorite pair of tall brown leather boots with a killer heel.



“It’s all going to work out. Actually, maybe it’s perfect, now. I’ve got the perfect excuse to get Mr. Ronn on his own, without any of the biker guys. I can play the sympathy card; they’ll all eat it up. Don’t worry ’bout me, okay, hon? I think I just need to get out there and let it roll. I can make this work.”