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She stiffens, her gaze darting around as if seeking help.
I don't think about it. I don't even hesitate. I react, storming in their direction as if she's mine to defend.
"You forget the fucking rules or something?" I growl, grabbing his hand in my fist and forcing him back a step. "No means motherfucking no. And you don't touch what doesn't fucking belong to you, asshole."
"Ah, sorry, man," he says, trying to pry his hand out of my grip. "I was just talking to her."
"She told you she wasn't interested. That means you stop fucking talking and move along," I growl. "It doesn't mean youkeep bugging her. And it damn sure doesn't mean you put your goddamn hands on her."
"It's okay, Jonas," Jamie whispers from beside me.
It's not okay, though. I may not fuck around in sex clubs, but I know the rules. Assholes like this don't learn unless they're taught. And part of me desperately wants to teach him right now. He touched her, frightened her. No one touches what should belong to me.
And goddamn, I wish she belonged to me.
"Is there a problem over here?"
I glance to the right to see a man nearly my size standing half a step away, a gold button on his lapel identifying him as a dungeon monitor. Good. Someone with some fucking authority around here.
"Yeah, there is," I growl, ignoring the curious stares shot in our direction. "Fuckstick here doesn't seem to comprehend the rules."
"I said I was sorry," he mumbles, still trying to pry his hand out of my grip. That's not going to happen, though. I've got about six inches and seventy pounds on him.
"What happened?" the monitor asks.
"He has a fucking problem with keeping his hands to himself and taking no for an answer."
The monitor scowls, his gaze shifting to Jamie. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she whispers.
"You're out," the monitor says, jerking a thumb toward the stairwell. "Let's go."
I release Fuckstick with a shove, sending him sprawling on his ass. His mask slips free, and I get a good, long look at his face. Bloodshot dark eyes, sharp, hawkish features. I commit each one to memory.
"If you ever touch her again, I'll break the fucking hand next time," I promise as he slips his mask back into place, sneering at me.
He bodychecks me on his way up the stairwell. Jackass. The dungeon master follows him up the stairs, ensuring he exits the premises post haste.
Everyone else goes back to minding their own business, leaving me and Jamie standing in the corner alone.
"Thank you," she whispers, the tip of her tongue sliding across her bottom lip in a move that has me wishing I was said lip. Or tongue. Shit. Anything so long as it gets me a taste of her.
"Are you all right?" I bark.
She jumps as if I startled her. "Yes. Um, I'm fine. Thank you for stepping in. I appreciate it." A weak smile trembles on her lips before quickly falling.
I curse, and then break the damn rules. I've never cared much for rules anyway. I pull her into my arms, wrapping them around her in a tight hug.
"W-w-w-what are you doing?"
"Giving you what you need."
"Oh." I expect her to put up a fight, but she melts into my embrace like a cuddly little treat, all soft and sweet. Smelling like saffron and silk.
I'm so fucked.
"What story are you chasing here, baby girl?"
