9 Disgusted

**WARNING** - Triggering Content

Aubrianne Ivanov POV.

After my performance on stage and covering every corner—believe me when I say I left my mark. I took the time to do a once over on the stage, ensuring I'd picked up every dollar. I couldn't afford to leave a dollar behind.

I worked very hard to save for my next move, and I will be damned if I let even one dollar slip away. I need every penny to start a new life in a new place away from the people close to me.

Nevertheless, I smile, feeling accomplished as I set a goal for tonight. I am not one hundred percent sure of the exact amount made, but my 'guesstimation' said it was a killing.

I then headed towards the dressing room to freshen up and get ready for the after-party, "heyyyyyyyy" I shouted, then did a little hop and skip, "let's get ready to partyyyyyy!" I called to no one in particular. I am so pumped and hyped up for what's to come next.....in a few days.

So you know what? I am going to enjoy the hell out of this get-together, which will just be us in-house folks, the girls, the owner John, the DJ, and the few bouncers we have, Shawn included, as my performance was the last for the night.

I have some naughty plans tonight for Mr. Ron Miller after the party. I am so excited. Oh, and I need to chat with Ron.

But truth be told, I am also excited to start my internship and plan to work my ass off to become permanent and grow. This firm is a huge deal, and I am proud of myself. I know my mom would be too.

Still trying to figure out how she would feel about the club part, but hey, a girl has got to do what a girl got to do.

As I stroll down the dimly lit path to the dressing room, the hair on my skin rises suddenly. Before I can even think much of it—also before I can even make it to my destination, a firm hand grips me by my upper arm from behind and pulls me into a firm but soft chest as the other hand goes straight to my mouth.

Then this bastard drags me along to an empty room.

I pushed at this fool, whoever this was, struggling in a tight grip.

It could not be. This familiar scent, though, I leaned my face back into the bastard's chest and sniffed. It was that cologne I have grown so accustomed to that tobacco blossom, spice with a hint of vanilla, NO, could never be. I shook that thought out.

But it certainly smells like Ron, and if so, why was he handling me in such a manner?

He then jacked me up on the wall, slamming the doors behind us, and he quickly glanced to ensure the door was locked. Even though I suspected it to be Ron, I doubted it strongly— called it a bad case of denial, so I continued my struggle against the hold.

Trying desperately to wrench my hand away from this intruder's firm grip, but then when I confirmed it was Ron after hearing his voice asking me to calm down. My body was somewhat relaxed but still on edge.

Though I calmed down, I was still a bit shocked at this behavior, as Ron had never handled me in such a manner. What was going on? I wondered.

He removed his hand from my mouth and just stared at me.

I furrow my eyebrows and blurt out, "Ron, what the HELLLLLL!!!! What are you doing? Let go of me," as he is still holding me in a death grip, his body pressed against mine, jamming me to the wall and I am feeling dominated by his presence.

The look in his eyes now scared me shitless. I can see in its depths as I look closer. He looked dangerous.

However, he let go of me, took a small step back, and simply stared at me for a long moment, and I searched his eyes, looking for the man I knew.

But he was there, and this Ron, though he stared at me, was not even looking at me. I watched him, it was as if he had gone off somewhere else in his mind, and I took this opportunity to take a quick look at my surroundings.

When I quickly realized we were in one of the rooms where private shows take place, it was dark, and the shadows of everything around us gave a sinister feeling in the darkness, adding to the steady fright that had started to build.

A small stage in the middle, a huge comfy couch, almost like a bed for more erotic things, carpeted.

He jerks me out of my room inspection when he starts to repeat and ramble on, "I thought I had more time, I thought I had more time. You! How could you do this to me?"

He pauses....that seems to go on forever. Some pacing, then he stopped his movements to look at me again. "HOOOWWW, could you do this?" His face contorted into utter sadness, his hands going up to his chest, and he gripped his jersey as if trying to ease the pain of his heart as he stressed, and then stalked back towards me slowly.

My heart suddenly decided to increase in tempo, as what would one do in such heartache and grief, maybe lose their mind, and I then wondered what his intentions were with me here in this room.

I glanced around the room again when I soon came to realize that I was not close to the door. Soon enough, Ron continued, "how could you leave me?" He points at himself as he looks at me like I just killed his puppy or gave him the most devastating news in the history of devastating news.

Ron paused in his steps as if waiting for my answer.

I did not know what to say or how to even answer him. What can I say to ease his fret about me leaving? Sadly, there was nothing. I was going, and that was final.

Nothing could change my mind at this point.

Maybe I should lie to get out of this? But that might make matters worse. Ron was no fool.

"I am sorry, Ron, but an opportunity came through for me, an offer I have no intention of refusing. I am taking it," I responded truthfully.

No, denying it, he looks away, maybe staring at the other wall or zoned out again. Ron knew of my plans when we met and started getting to know each other. He knew everything.

"How"? He stretches out the word. "Not before I've touched you, not before I've held you close and called you mine, not before I've kissed those soft lips," he moans; then it was like a light bulb went on, and immediately after, his features switch to one of a predator when he stalks me like his prey.

His eyes, intense and determined, desire suddenly filling his features as he closed the distance between us, grabbed me with both hands, one on either side of my upper arms, and said, "not before I've had you completely."

Then, removing one hand from gripping me tightly, he cups my soft cushy center between my legs and slightly squeezes me.

Oh god, I stifle a moan as the warmth of his hand travels straight up my body, through my core. Taking that as an invite, he crashes his lips into mine. He kisses me roughly, demanding entrance, which I refuse to give. Albeit, I have wanted this for so long.

I wanted him to take me in the worst way, but damn it, not like this. I do not like this behavior one bit. It is quite a turn-off for me. I imagined this moment quite differently than what is actually happening right now.

Oh, Ron, you are spoiling everything, I thought. My plan WAS to spend the night with Ron; he is sweet, kind, gentle, caring, and thoughtful, and I have thought about kissing him so many times but just didn't want to mix business with pleasure.

Now that I was leaving, I had made plans to have my night with Ron. Why couldn't he just leave it alone!

"The hell Ron! What has gotten into you?" I pushed him away and shouted.

He met my fiery gaze, took the hand he used to palm me, rubbed his face, and took my scent into his nostrils.

Maybe in a different setting, I would have been so turned on by that. Instead, I just looked on unimpressed as Ron's nose flared, his tongue jutted out, and he licked it, and boy did that do the trick. It stirs something in me.

But then I immediately felt disgusted.