Jesus Christ.

I wait, determined not to leave until I have her with me.  Another thirty minutes and two more rotations on the stages have my frustration levels going up even higher.  How the hell did she just disappear?  I know she didn’t leave.  The tracking device on her car, which is sitting right next to my truck in the parking lot, hasn’t alerted me of any movement.  I’ll be damned if she takes off on me again.

After signaling over another server, I order a beer and check my phone again to make sure the tracker isn’t malfunctioning.  I’m just putting my phone in my pocket when a deep voice cuts over the music.

“Gentleman of Syn.  It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for.  The one your dicks have been begging for all fucking night.  The Princess of Syn herself.  The one and only, Rose!”

The Princess of Syn?  What an idiot.  I laugh to myself, placing my beer to my lips for a long pull.  The music starts and the first few notes of Lollipop by Framing Hanley fill the air.  Got to give this chick props—at least she picked a good song.

The house lights go down, plunging the room into darkness, before a spotlight hits the main stage.  The smoke clinging to the air gives the stage an eerie glow.  I take my eyes off the action and attempt scan the darkness of the room again for Emmy.  Movement by the back corner catches my attention at the same time that the crowd goes electric.  Idiots start throwing their money left and right, calling to this Princess of Syn to take them.

What morons.

I focus on the corner again and see the blonde from earlier smiling her wicked smile at me before pointing to the stage.  Turning back to the stage, I watch as a woman, who I assume is this so-called princess, spins effortlessly on the pole, her movements all but blurring her body from the men wishing she were spinning on their dicks.  It doesn’t take me long to see why the bitch from earlier is telling me to look.

With one quick spin, her hands are placed at the center and her legs are spread wide and parallel to the pole, showing off her barely there G-sting, I see my Emmy.  It takes a second for the shock to wear off, and in that second, she gracefully drops from her spin with a guarded smile to the men crowding the stage.  Lifting her small hands from her side, she drags them up her flat stomach to take her tits in hand and jiggles them.

Fucking jiggles them.

I can’t control my body at this point.  I’m focused on one thing—the best way to get her off that stage and out of this place.

She reaches up and, in a move that is obviously practiced, removes her top, throwing it in to the crowd.  There she dances with her body on display, caressing her naked tits until her nipples pebble.  Turning her back to the room, she bends at the waist and starts to slowly pull her G-sting down her long, toned legs.

This is when the reality of this situation hits me.  I’ll fucking kill all of these motherfuckers in the room.

Then she drops to her knees before getting on all fours and crawling towards the end of the stage.

Hell.  No.

I’m on my feet in seconds, stalking through the crowd, pushing any man who stands in the way of my woman and me.  I don’t even lift my arms from my side.  I just barrel through the bodies with one goal in mind.

She doesn’t see me coming since she’s back on her feet and walking to the pole again.  With a leap that would make my high school track coach proud, I’m on the stage, and a second later, I have a naked Emmy thrown over my shoulders before I jump off the stage.  The sharp pain up my leg does nothing to extinguish my determination.

I can see the bouncers coming, and with one hand on her slick ass, I reach out and punch the first one in the face, taking great pleasure watching him instantly buckle to the floor.  The other one comes at me from the side, but he doesn’t get far before I pick up the chair to my left one-handed and crack it against his fucking head.

Emmy is struggling with such vigor that I’m forced to put her down.  She looks up, ready to spit fire at me, before snapping her mouth shut when she sees the expression on my face.  I have no doubt that I look just as feral as I feel.

“Don’t you open that sweet fucking mouth, Emersyn.  I swear to Christ, now is not the time to fucking piss me off any further.”

I rip my shirt off and roughly pull it over her head.  She struggles and puts up a fight, momentarily distracting me from the third bouncer coming at full throttle.  His fist takes me by surprise, but not for long.  Grabbing her wrist so she doesn’t get away, I turn to the motherfucker stupid enough to get in my way.