OWN HER: A Dark Mafia Romance(61)

Accepting the inevitable, I left the average joe with his highball and sashayed my way over to Joey Ronn and Mr. F’s table, wondering what new hell Ronn had in store for me. His face reflected a sick joy in what he was about to do, so I knew to be on my guard.



“Sienna. Don’t get too close to the security. Dom is mine, just like you are. You better remember that.”



“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Mr. Ronn,” I replied soothingly, trying to adopt an easy manner for show. This man did not like a smart mouth, and he thought all dancers were dumb as bricks. I played it up. “I just gave him a little dance, workin’ just like everyone else. You know I’m good. You got nothin’ to worry about.”



“Good.” He smirked. “Now why don’t you take Mr. F here back there to one of the rooms, give him a little taste of your sweet ass. He’s been waiting for you long enough.”



I glanced over at Mr. F, who was pursing his lips and drinking in my body with his eyes, clearly liking what he saw. His nostrils flared, and he glowered at me. I know I’m hot; I have a dancer’s body with great curves in all the right places, and I’m not surgically enhanced, thank you very much. About the only thing I could ever thank my parents for. But in this case, I was pretty much wishing I was more wallflower material.



Mr. F slid to the edge of the booth and stood right in front of me, sliding his hands around my hips to cup my ass tightly, and jerked my body flush with his own, making sure I could feel his hard-on pushing against my belly. He was taller than me by several inches, but my four-inch stilettos brought me closer to even than not. Then he confidently twisted me at the waist in a practiced dance move, and with his arms wrapped around me, shoving his dick into my lower back, he palmed and squeezed one breast and grabbed my pussy with the other. None too gently. He leaned down to growl in my ear, “I’m looking forward to taking your ass, make no mistake about that. Let’s go.”



Before I could even process that statement or make a move, I felt a strong tug on my arm, pulling me out of Mr. F’s grip, and I cycled sideward in my stilettos, trying to keep to my feet. As soon as I stabilized, I processed the craziest sight: Dom, personal security to the Boss, slug-festing it all over the Boss’s rich and scary VIP. And the music kept pounding.





Chapter Two




Dom



Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.



I couldn’t tell if it was the baseline of the music or the movement of my arms, or the beat of the punches I was landing on the asshole down in front of me, who was looking less and less like a man and more and more like a bloody mess. Didn’t matter. He had his hands on my girl, and that shit had to stop.



Pound. Pound. Pou…



Slowly I became aware of strong hands on my upper arms, restraining, pulling me back, until I lost my balance over the downed dude and landed on my ass next to him. He didn’t look so good. He was still breathing, but his nose was rearranged, his face covered in blood, and he was coughing kinda roughly. I guessed I must have probably cracked a rib or two, too. Par for the course. He fucking deserved it.



Whoa… wait a minute, sucker. Back the fuck up. What was that I had just been thinking? The girl. Sienna. Fuck. Rewind.



She’s not my girl. She’s not mine at all. Damnit. What the fuck was I doing? Beating up the Boss’s VIP, just because he had his hands on the goods? Aw, fuck fuck shit. There I go again, my temper getting in my way again. Fuck. I did not need this shit, not now, not when I had to keep my head clear and in the game.



But man, I could tell Sienna wasn’t comfortable with this dude—I could read her like a book now, after watching her for the past two months—and I had just reacted. Shit. I might have totally fucked myself right here. But this Mr. F dude was bad news. Rich, pompous, connected. Arrogant as fuck. Not that he cornered that market—hell, I was pretty damn arrogant, too, if I’m honest. But I backed mine with knowledge that I could damn well take care of myself and take care of business, whatever was necessary. This fucker? His arrogance was power-driven, which is the most annoying kind. He was a string-puller and an asshole. He probably had deserved a good beating for a long time. I was kinda glad it was me who gave it to him.



Not that I’d be telling the Boss that. The fucker. I hated him, too. Worse.



“Yo, dude, come back to us, man. Focus. Dom, dude, you fucked up. Fuck.” Shredder, one of my brethren in our MC, Storm, was standing in front of me, hands on his hips, shaking his head and looking at the sniveling pile that was Mr. F.