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  providing a service for a client.

  Nothing more, nothing less.

  He waited for her to respond.

  Instead, she turned her head away from his piercing gaze and continued to move her body in time to the music.

  She glanced around the room, feeling as though everyone were staring at them.

  No one was giving them any more notice than any of the other dancers performing one-on-one for

  the male clientele.

  Ít·s just you and me, Sin, it·s just the two of us, alone. Forget about everybody else.µ

  Í can·t.µ She choked out the words, turning reluctantly to face him. Í can·t just forget they·re there,

  watching.µ Sienna felt as if everyone were watching her as she straddled his hard thighs, riding him. She

  carefully avoided his hardening shaft thumping against her belly.

  ´Yes, you can. It·s just you and me.µ

  She didn·t know Garrett

  McAllister at all. Over the last few years she·d worked at the club, she had

  men who·d come in faithfully, but none of them had ever made a dent in her shield. She had never longed

  to know any of them, as she did with this man. It made no sense.

  God, it made no sense.

  But she wanted to know him.

  She yearned for him. In ways she never had for any man. Even more so

  than she had for Damian, when she·d first met him, before she learned of his true nature.

  She·d noticed him the first time he·d entered the club. He and the black guy he came in with.

  They·d

  sat to her left, never making any catcalls, never coming up to the stage³yet she·d felt his stare.

  Among a

  roomful of men, she·d been aware of his intense gaze on hers. Each night, she·d thought he·d be waiting for

  her.

  Nervous, afraid that he would be there, she·d left the club as soon as she·d collected her money for the night and had cashed out.

  Disappointed, despite self avowals to the contrary, she realized he·d never

  been waiting for her.

  Her nipples rasped against the rough material of his blazer, spiking in arousal. Her vagina clenched,

  coming into scorching contact with the bulge lying beneath his zipper, despite her intent to avoid it. The

  music playing was a slow, sensual beat. Sienna reveled in the rhythm and closed her eyes.

  ´Yes,µ he rasped, easing her body closer to his, touching her, although it was forbidden to do so.

  ´Just like that. There·s only you and me.µ With his words, Sienna gave in to what her body

  demanded she

  give him.

  No longer was she performing a service, a lap dance. Instead, helpless, she feverishly worked her

  body against the long, hard length of pipe lying hot and thick between her legs.

  Grinding her body against his, she lost touch with her

  surroundings and, with it, her inhibitions

  loosened.

  ´That·s good. That·s real good,µ

  he encouraged. ´Don·t think of anyone. It·s you and me. And what

  you·re doing to me.µ He uttered the words in a guttural tone, unashamedly referring to his hardened penis

  centered between her thighs.

  She felt the heat of

  embarrassment; lust and

  passion flushed her cheeks, yet she continued to ride

  him. Everyone in the club had to know of the cream now flowing from her. She felt the ease of it, down

  past the lace of her thong, traveling her thigh and

  saturating his lap.

  The burdening weight of a hundred pairs of eyes seemed to mock her. She tucked her head against

  his chest in shame. Ńo,µ she whispered.

  ´You can,µ he insisted gruffly.

  Again, ignoring the club rule of no touching, he placed both hands on her waist and centered her

  directly on his massive erection.

  Ńow rub that sweet snatch all over this dick, and make me come, baby.

  Make me come,µ he demanded.

  He then did the unthinkable. He snaked his tongue out and gently swiped at the seam of her lips.

  Sienna forgot about who might or might not be looking at them.

  Daringly, she stuck out her tongue

  and engaged in a short duel with his, lapping her wet tip against his before retreating it back into her

  mouth.

  With those words, that short kiss, and the hot feel of his shaft knifing against the seam of her vagina,

  Sienna felt the unmistakable beginnings of an orgasm shake her quivering body.

  Óh God, I can·t believe this,µ

  she whispered, her voice

  breaking. Í can·t do this. I³µ

  He pressed one finger against her lips, while the other kept her steady, riding him. Śssh, it·s okay. I·ll

  protect you. Just come for me.

  Let it go,µ he whispered, and adjusted her body, positioning them away

  from any chance onlookers.

  The music faded, smoothly blending into the next song; this one slower, the rhythms heavier, more

  sensual. A soft cry escaped her lips. Sienna closed her eyes, allowing the music to take over.

  Ńo, open your eyes. Look at me,µ he demanded, and

  captured her lips, again, in a short, soft kiss.

  Óh God³µ she whimpered, yet obeyed his dictate.

  Sienna ground against him, tight swirls with her hips, curled her spine and smoothly popped her buttocks up and down in his lap.

  She didn·t know what was

  affecting her so strongly³the music, the dark,

  or the man she was riding. Or a combination of all three.

  Whatever it was, she was lost in the moment. She completely gave in to the sensations coursing

  through her body, the feelings this man had helped to create.

  She kept her eyes trained on Mac·s eyes, her forehead barely touching his. She swallowed her automatic cries of passion while she slid her body along his.

  His deep, harsh breath fanned against her forehead, telling her he was as caught up in the feelings

  they·d generated as she was.

  ͳI think I·m going to come.

  Please let me go. I can·t«,µ she begged when her pussy

  tightened and

  the orgasm began to curl in the pit of her stomach.

  ´Yes, baby, just like that,µ he whispered. Ít·s okay, release it.

  Let go,µ he encouraged. His husky

  words, the music, and the feel of him between her legs, so hard and strong, were her undoing.

  He grasped her hips, helping her to ride him, and she let out a cry that he swallowed. She arched her

  back sharply, desperately clutching his broad shoulders.

  ´What the fuck do you think you·re doing?µ an angry voice intruded, harshly ending the orgasm

  rippling through her body.

  6

  W ith a painful cry, Sienna felt herself snatched, bodily, from Mac·s lap and thrown to the floor.

  Disoriented, she was barely able to catalog the swift movement from the man who had been inches away

  from giving her the ultimate pleasure.

  She scrambled to her feet, only to encounter Damian·s twisted, red, angry face, his hand raised, fist

  closed, prepared to strike her.

  She covered her arms over her head, readying herself for the blow.

  Instead of feeling a fist connecting painfully with her jaw, she saw Mac towering over Damian. He

  grabbed Damian·s much smaller clenched fist within his and spun him around.

  ´Don·t fucking touch her,µ Mac barked.

  ´Get your damn hands off me!µ

  Posturing, aware of the small audience now paying avid

  attention to the threesome in the dark corner,

  Dam
ian wouldn·t back down, Sienna knew, despite the fear she saw blazing in his dark brown eyes.

  ´What the fuck do you think you·re doing?µ

  Dragged abruptly from the hot feel of her body riding him, Mac quickly jumped to his feet once Sin

  had been torn from his lap and stood, cowering. He grabbed the smaller man·s hand before he could hit

  Sin.

  Ńothing, Damian! I was just giving the man a dance. What the hell are you doing?µ she hissed,

  glancing around at the small group of onlookers, who boldly watched the drama unfold.

  ´Dancing, my ass, bitch! You were fucking him! This ain·t that kind of place. If you wanna whore, you

  need to take that shit

  somewhere else.µ

  Had Mac been in the frame of mind to laugh, he would have done so, outright, at the comment. He

  knew for a fact the Sweet Kitty offered much more than

  stripping and lap dances, if the price was right.

  But at the moment, he had more pressing things to take care of.

  He tightened his hold on Marks·s hand, and watched in

  satisfaction when Damian nearly buckled to the floor in pain.

  He had been completely

  enthralled by Sin·s

  overwhelming, yet unique, womanly smell; the scent of their combined lust; and the way she danced in his lap, grinding her sweet pussy on his dick, as she

  uttered the small, helpless cries of pleasure.

  He wanted nothing more than to unzip his pants, release himself, grab her by the back of her hair, and slam his body into hers, repeatedly, driving his dick as far into her wet, slick heat as he could, until he

  reached the back of her womb.

  Mac couldn·t believe he·d gotten so caught up that he hadn·t noticed Marks approaching them.

  From the first moment he·d laid eyes on her dancing on the stage, working her agile body on the thick

  pole, she·d been working him into a sexual frenzy.

  All frustrated sexual thoughts were cast aside as he easily crushed Marks·s hand within his.

  He

  ignored Damian·s frantic cries for Mac to release him. Instead, he concentrated solely on Sienna as she

  stood helpless. A red haze of anger clouded his vision.

  Íf you so much as lay a

  goddamn pinky finger on her, I·ll rip your ass apart.µ He raised his other fist,

  the image of smashing the motherfucker·s face paramount in his mind.

  Sienna leaped from her

  crouching position and grabbed Mac·s thick forearm, moments before it

  connected with Damian·s jaw.

  Śtop it, please! Just let him go!µ

  It took both of her hands to circle his thick bicep, yet her fingers couldn·t connect around the corded

  muscles bunching beneath

  them.

  For long, tense moments she held on, until she felt his muscles loosen. Still, he maintained his grasp

  on Damian·s fist. Sienna glanced at Damian and saw the deep-red flush line his pale skin. She thought if

  Mac didn·t release his hold soon, he·d break Damian·s hand.

  Mac turned to her, his jaw clenched, an angry glint in his eyes the only testimony to his rage. ´Get

  your stuff. You·re coming with me,µ he said.

  ´What? She ain·t going no³µ

  Damian·s words were cut off in a strangled gasp.

  He wanted to take her with him!

  She wanted to leave with him, leave Damian and the Sweet Kitty far

  behind. God, she wanted to go, so badly. She wanted to run and never look back.

  ´Ja-Jacob,µ Damian uttered the one name, he knew, would keep her in check.

  She couldn·t leave.

  Her brother·s face flashed before her eyes. Despite the pain in Damian·s eyes, the threat of what he

  could, and would, do to Jacob shone brightly in his eyes. He·d come after her. After Jacob.

  With a cry in her heart, she turned to Mac. Í can·t.µ

  His unwavering stare held a hint of softness, one at odds with his overall hard exterior. The look in his

  eyes silently asked her if that was what she wanted. Sienna could only turn away, unable to hold his gaze.

  He turned back to Damian, any traces of softness left his eyes, and his face hardened.

  Í·m watching your ass.µ

  He finally released his hold on Damian, and Damian leaped from his cowering position, massaging his

  knuckles. He turned to the small group of gawking onlookers.

  ´This ain·t no damn show. Get the fuck out of here or go back to what your asses came here for!µ

  He straightened his clothes and reached for Sienna.

  Mac grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him close, Damian·s feet dangling inches from

  the floor.

  Ŕemember what I said,

  motherfucker. I·m watching you.

  Touch her again and you·re a dead man.µ

  With that, he released Damian and strode out of the club.

  Sienna watched him leave, her heart thudding loudly in her ears, wanting to cry out for him to come

  back to her.

  She turned to Damian. ´Don·t you ever, ever think your ass can get away with pulling shit like that

  with me. I will leave one day.

  And there ain·t a damn thing you can do about it!µ She

  straightened her

  shoulders, swallowed her fear, and looked him dead in the eye.

  7

  G od, what in hell was she going to do? How would she ever escape Damian or the club now?

  How could

  she, when she knew Damian was capable, and willing, to carry out his ugly threats against her brother?

  After Mac left, Damian told her to get on the stage, excusing her from any further lap dances.

  She

  didn·t question why, but

  gratefully left the floor and prepared to dance.

  Sienna was on pins and needles for the rest of the evening.

  Between fear of Damian·s

  reprisal and

  furtive glances over the

  audience looking for Mac, she missed steps and performed on automatic, not into

  the dance or the stage as she normally was.

  When Damian left the club early, leaving his manager to close, some of the queasy feelings in her gut

  went away.

  The evening passed without a return appearance from Mac.

  For that, Sienna didn·t know if she should

  be happy or sad.

  In the end, she was grateful when the club closed and she cashed out for the night, collecting her

  money, with no more

  interactions from either man.

  Presently she couldn·t think about any of the drama that had transpired earlier. She needed time.

  Time to plan and to figure out what³how³she could get away, and take her brother with her.

  Her first priority was to make sure Jacob was safe. Everything else was secondary to Jacob·s protection. If that meant she had to figure out another way to get away from Damian, then she would,

  without jeopardizing Jacob·s safety.

  She sighed and shoved aside the fear for the moment. She

  couldn·t wait to get home. As soon as she

  stepped through the door, she planned to snatch the itchy wig off her head, take a long, hot shower, and

  crawl into bed, assuming the fetal position and going to sleep.

  Í·ll probably cry myself to sleep thinking of all this mess,µ she murmured out loud.

  As soon as she spoke, she knew she sounded pitiful, but damn if it wasn·t true. A good cry, get it all

  out, and then she could wrap her brain around what she needed to do in order to save both her brother

  and herself.

  The cool air brushed against her skin, and goose bumps peppered her f
lesh when she stepped out of

  the club. She gathered the ends of her old faux-fur coat closer, wrapping the ties around her body to ward

  off the chill.

  She bowed her head while the wind whipped the strands of the blond wig around her face. The only

  sound in the nearly deserted parking lot was the rushed, rhythmic, staccato tap of her stilettos against the

  cement.

  Í waited for you.µ

  Sienna·s steps came to a halt when the deep voice carried along the wind, like notes to a familiar

  song.

  ´Wha-what are you doing here?µ

  She clutched the ends of her coat closer, staring at the man, nearly

  camouflaged, leaning casually against the door of a gleaming black SUV. After what had happened, she

  thought she·d most likely never see him again.

  ´We have unfinished business.µ

  Her heart stuttered against her breast³fear, nerves, and

  arousal all warred for

  dominance. Mac

  unfurled his long frame from leaning against his car and ambled toward her.

  ´What are you doing here?µ The catch in her voice was

  discernible to her own ears. He stood tall, so

  dominating over her. She took a small step back and caught herself. Stiffening her back, she straightened

  her body and plastered what she hoped was an indifferent look on her face.

  ´That should be fairly obvious.µ

  He reached a long finger out and moved strands of hair away from her face.

  Sienna shivered, but not from the chill in the air, but, instead, from the electric bolt that shot through

  her from his casual touch. She averted her face and his finger slid away, softly feathering her cheek.

  ´Whatever you thought was going to happen, isn·t.µ She turned to go. He caught her arm, preventing her from leaving, forcing her to look at him.

  Ĺook, I·m tired. I just want to go home. Please let