I stepped right up to him, locking my hands on the nape of his neck, and softened my tone. “Look, you can be there. You can be there the whole time. Mr. Ronn’s going to bring some of you guys with him—you know he always does—so you just make sure you’re one of those guys. It’ll be fine. We’ll be there together. And you have my back, and I’ll have yours, too. We’ll be a team. Just do not tell me no. Because I am going, whether you like it or not.”
He did not like it. But he also did not attempt to tell me no again.
So I kissed him, super sweet.
# # #
I shouldn’t have been surprised. I mean, when Mr. Ronn “invited” us to this little shindig, he had told us we’d be provided with “proper attire,” and darkly warned us that we’d better be damn good as the actual guests had high standards and expectations. But he didn’t exactly explain what that meant.
Apparently, that meant that it turned out to be, effectively, an orgy for the extremely rich.
It was a fucking Mr. F event, hosted by him at his suburban monstrosity of a gated McMansion, on a huge estate that was beautifully landscaped so that not a single neighboring residence was in sight. Mr. Ronn had had me and the other girls picked up from Hardcore and brought together in a rented limo. I didn’t know the other girls well, but they were familiar enough faces and bodies. There was some comfort in that.
My main comfort, however, was that Dom had made sure that he would be here too, assigned by his Pres to be on duty for Mr. Ronn. I hadn’t spotted either of them here yet, but I was keeping an eye out. My breath was a little tight in anticipation of his arrival, both because that had just become a norm for me in the past couple of weeks, and because I really didn’t love being at this party without him. There was a shady vibe, and I was on my guard.
All of the men—there were maybe twenty of them—wore tuxedos, black tie. The only other women here looked to be call girls. High-end, no doubt. But none of them had that wife vibe going on, all made up perfectly, in super sexy dresses that scantily clad their rocking bodies. I’d have put my money on their all being professionals of the first kind.
Champagne and high-end drinks were being served, and there were mirrored trays in certain corners that provided alternative lines of party favors. I knew enough to stay away from those.
Since our usual club uniform was limited to costumes for our feature dances—nipple pasties and G-strings—someone (it had to have been either Mr. F or the Boss) had provided dresses for us in the club dressing room, which we donned before getting into our ride. Mine turned out to be little more than a gauzy gold baby-doll-type slip that didn’t even cover my ass and barely covered my nipples. Six-inch golden stilettos and full-on smoky eyes completed the look. I brought my little black jetted clutch along, figuring I’d at least make some giant tips to validate the extra working hours.
Plus, I hoped it would be a way to find out something more—maybe even get evidence—on Ronn and Mr. F. I couldn’t have asked for a better party location, right in the heart of the lion’s den.
Someone pinched my ass. “I love a bitch with some cheek.” An older guy in a tux leaned in to fake-whisper in my ear, “You have a lovely ass, my dear.” Then he palmed it and squeezed.
In the split second before I responded, another tux pulled up to my other side and gave my other cheek a hard slap. “Naughty girl, showing off her ass like this. I think this dirty girl needs punishing, don’t you think, Jack?”
Fuck. It was Mr. F.
He brought his other hand up to flip the top edge of the baby doll down below one of my nipples, and chuckled, “Now look at that. We have a wardrobe malfunction. I like it.” Both men laughed.
I quickly recovered myself and took a step back from the two gentlemen. Smiling tightly, I attempted a gracious exit with, “Hands off, please. Gentlemen, have a good evening.” I turned on a heel and skedaddled away. Yeesh.
Mr. Ronn, now arrived, had obviously caught the little interaction, because he soon sidled up to me. “Sienna, you’re drawing attention well, I see. Good. You should know, Mr. Fielding requested your presence here tonight specifically. Consider his satisfaction your… security.”
“You know I’ll dance my best to entertain the boys, Boss. That’s why I’m here, right?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, your dancing. Might be you’ll be called on to do a little more tonight than your normal. Special event, honey. You’ll find it would behoove you to make it good.”