Joker’s Wild: Vegas Underground, book 5

by Rose, Renee

  “Mamá, this is my employer, Mr. um, Jones. Mr. Jones, my mother, Flor de Liz Lopez.”

  Mr. Jones. Okay, she’s trying to cover for me. But the woman is at my house. And just saw my wounded brother. She’s a witness.

  Luca appears from the living room, totally relaxed. Dumb fuck. “You need me to stick around, boss?”

  I just shake my head, because if I speak, I’m going to be a serious asshole.

  Luca steps through the door and Desiree catches it and holds it open. “My mom’s gotta run to her shift at the hospital. Bye, Mom!” She shuffles her mom past me and practically shoves her out, shutting the door tight behind her.

  Two seconds go by as I try to decide if I need to go after her or not.

  But Desiree’s standing in front of me, twisting her hands. “Just chill out, Junior,” she says, but her words are pleading. “She doesn’t know anything. She didn’t see the wound, didn’t ask any questions. She just shows up and does her thing and leaves. Nothing to worry about.”

  I take a step toward Desiree. I suppose it must come off as menacing, because she takes two steps back, her pupils narrow with alarm. I can’t reassure her, because I’m still teetering on the edge of doubt.

  And the idea of Desiree not being trustworthy fucking guts me.

  I don’t even know what I’d do.

  I couldn’t hurt her. I don’t even think I have it in me to threaten her with something awful.

  “What were you thinking?” I snarl. “You just made your mom a witness.”

  “Junior, you’re not listening. She saw nothing. And even if she knew everything, you’re safe. She’s my mom. Her trust lies with mine. Always. I’m on your side, I’m Team Tacone, so that means she is, too. Without question, without a shadow of a doubt. We’re family.” She tilts her head. “Surely you understand about that?”

  The haze around my vision starts to clear and I draw in a few deeper breaths.

  I’m Team Tacone.

  I’m on your side.

  Her words do something terrible and beautiful to me. Shred me in half and reshape me into something new.

  And suddenly I’m on her, kissing the fuck out of her, holding the back of her head captive as my tongue sweeps into her mouth. I nip her lips, suck them. Bruise them with the intensity of my desire.

  I carry her upstairs, legs wrapped around my waist, never breaking the frantic kiss. In my bedroom, I lower her to stand and rip her scrubs off while she works on my clothes. I bite her neck, lift her up and throw her on her back on my bed.

  I want to reward her for hours, but there’s too much pressure built up—like my whole life, my whole essence of being just undammed and wants to pour out to her. There’s no stopping it. I yank off her panties and shove one knee up to feast between her legs. It’s not nuanced foreplay—I’m not capable of precision. It’s more like I devour her. Suck and bite and plunge my tongue in her entrance. And then I can’t wait any longer. I yank off my boxer briefs and roll on a condom in record time and then I’m over her.

  Spearing her with my erection.

  Claiming her with every ounce of my being.

  I slam in hard. She cries out, but her eyes are closed, her head tipped back with pleasure.

  Fuck, I need her. I plant my hands up above her shoulders so she can’t slide and fuck her with all the force inside me. It’s rough.

  Rabid.

  It’s far more animal than man.

  I didn’t know I had this amount of passion in me, but here it is. Pouring out, mingling with hers, making me a new man. Whole again.

  She’s making her noises—cries and moans and incoherent begging.

  “Desiree,” I choke. Because I need to speak her name. The name of the woman who did this to me. Who turned me inside out. Reshaped me.

  Her eyes open and she reaches for me. Digs her nails into my back as I slam into her supple body. She wraps her legs around my waist and hooks her ankles behind my back, using her legs to encourage me even deeper, harder. To show me she wants this. Wants more.

  And I don’t hold back. The bed slams against the wall, mattress bounces and shakes as I take my woman, give her every ounce of everything I have.

  A stream of Italian comes out of my mouth. I’m babbling more than she is. My thighs tighten up, lightning strikes at the base of my spine. I roar like a fucking lion, slam in and out of her so hard I fear I’ll break her. And then I go deep.

  “Fuck, Desiree, come, baby.” I’m begging her to come because I can’t hold my orgasm back, and I don’t have the coordination or brain cells to make sure she gets off.

  She does. Her muscles tighten and squeeze my dick the minute I tell her to, a quick pulsing that makes her choke on a scream, head thrown back, eyes rolled up in her head.

  I fill the condom. Fuck, I come so much I fear it won’t hold it all. And then I’m on top of her, panting into her neck, listening to her slowing cries.

  “Did you get the antibiotic?” she asks after a moment and I curse and pull out. “Yes. Yeah, I got it.” I dispose of the condom and fish the antibiotic out of my coat pocket.

  Desiree pulls on her scrub bottoms without panties and my undershirt.

  I smile, satisfaction at seeing her in my clothes surging. I hand her the antibiotic and yank on my own clothes, then follow her into Gio’s room.

  She’s already injected it into the IV. “Look,” she says softly, lifting her chin toward Gio. “He already looks better. I’m not that religious, but I swear my mom has a direct line to God. Or source energy—whatever you want to call it.”

  I go still. I hadn’t even understood what she’d told me before. About why she called her mom here. But she’s right. There’s none of the usual pained restlessness around Gio. The lines of his face have softened, and he looks peaceful. His breath is steady. I touch his head. Still warm, but not burning as hot as this morning.

  I pull Desiree into me and kiss the top of her head. And then, because she’s braless and her nipples are popping through my thin shirt, I have to palm her breast. Have to rub my thumb over the pebbled tip.

  And then I’m squeezing her ass.

  “Is my punishment over?” she asks, her lips curving into that taunting smile I love so much.

  I work my finger between her ass cheeks, which is easy since she’s only wearing scrubs— no panties. “Baby, that wasn’t punishment,” I murmur. “That was your reward. Punishment comes later.” I curl my finger to touch her anus, showing her exactly how I’ll be taking her to task.

  She moves restlessly, and I cup my other hand around her mons to stimulate her both places. Her breath comes in short pants. I release her, it was just a tease to keep her on edge. I’m still soaring from her revelation. Still soaked in gratitude, wanting to reward her in every way possible.

  * * *

  Desiree

  Um, wow.

  I seriously don’t even know what just happened.

  One minute I’m freaking out, trying to make Junior understand my mom’s not a threat, the next minute he’s pounding into me like the world’s going to end, and it’s our last chance at having sex. Ever.

  The whole time I couldn’t figure out if it was punishment or reward.

  No, I guess I knew it wasn’t punishment. It may have been the roughest sex I’ve ever had, but what came out of him was pure passion. I just have no idea what triggered it.

  I go back to his bedroom and get myself properly dressed. He’s in the walk-in closet, standing in front of what must be an open safe.

  When he comes out, he tosses three big stacks of cash on the bed. “That’s for you.”

  “Wait...what is this?” I don’t know why, but the money comes as a shock—and not a pleasant one. “Are you getting rid of me?” What the hell is going on? Was that goodbye sex?

  “No, no, no.” He steps over to me and touches my shoulder to pivot me toward him. “I just wanted to give you something. It’s just… a show of good faith. Your payment in advance. You swore your allegiance t
o me. I wanted to reciprocate.”

  What the F? I’m still hella confused. I know I usually love money and I always thought having a guy shower me with it would be the ultimate turn-on, but in this instance, I’m totally offended.

  My allegiance? I wasn’t being loyal for the money. I’m loyal because I care about this family. These two men. And the money was supposed to mine for doing the job, regardless of my loyalties.

  But I do understand that my declaration of loyalty means something to him. Something big. And he’s feeling grateful. Which explains the awesome sex.

  “Fine, money was the wrong thing.” He literally sweeps his hand over the bed and knocks the stacks of cash to the floor like they’re nothing. “How about this?” He wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling my back against his front. “I’ve got every P.I. in the state looking for your little boy. I put them on it as soon as I found out. I promise I’ll get him back to you safe and sound.”

  My knees buckle, the room swoops. “Wh-what?” my voice wobbles. I turn in his arms to see his face. He nods, solemnly.

  All I can do is throw my arms around his neck, strangle him with the intensity of my gratitude. And then I’m crying—my tears wetting his neck, my mascara smudging all over his white collar.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  He runs his hands up and down my back and I feel so safe. So cared for. Cherished, even. It’s an amazing feeling—one I haven’t had with a man before.

  He cradles one side of my face and thumbs away my tears.

  “I still get the money, though, right?” I attempt a joke to lighten the mood.

  His smile is devastatingly warm and I bask in its glow. “Of course you do.”

  “You’re awfully sweet for a mob boss,” I tell him.

  Something in his face shutters—the self-loathing part, I would have to guess. “You’re the only person in the entire universe who thinks that.”

  And I remember how edgy he is with his brothers and sister. How they all act like he’s an alligator about to bite them.

  I changed him.

  It’s a stupid and dangerous thought, but I love the feeling that accompanies it.

  He’s a different man with me.

  I think it must be true. Either that, or no one’s ever given him credit for his hidden softness. No one’s bothered to look at him and see it.

  Either way, it makes me even more loyal. Ready to defend him. On his side.

  In love.

  Crap. I cannot be in love with a mafia kingpin.

  I cannot.

  But I am.

  * * *

  Junior

  Gio continued to improve over the afternoon. While Desiree feeds him some of the salty soup, I order food in for the two of us.

  When it arrives, we eat in my living room while we watch The Bourne Ultimatum on TV. It’s so normal, so comfortable, I have to keep reminding myself not to get used to this.

  Later, I catch Desiree after she finishes with her check-in on Gio. I sneak up behind her and wrap one hand around her mouth, the other around her waist.

  She screams into my palm.

  “Time for your punishment, doll,” I growl in her ear as I drag her backward, out of the room.

  Her feet scramble to keep up with my lead and I fill my nostrils with her scent. Her silky hair smells fresh and clean like apples, the ponytail slides across my neck as we move.

  Once we’re in my room I stop and untie the drawstring on her scrub pants, letting them drop to the floor. The top comes off next and then I spin her around to face me. She’s wearing a burgundy satin and lace bra and panty set today. I growl my approval, reaching around to grab her ass and squeeze.

  “You always matchy-matchy with your bra and panties?”

  “Well, I packed my best,” she admits.

  Heady satisfaction shoots through me at that. “For me?” I rumble.

  “I guess. Yeah.” She reaches for the buttons on my shirt but I catch her hands in one of mine.

  “Uh uh. I’m in charge.” I snag her panties in the back and pull up, flossing them between her ass crack. She goes up on her toes, falling into me. With my free hand, I slap one of her ass cheeks. “You broke the rules again, baby.” I gently tug and release the panties, rubbing the taut fabric against her anus and over her clit. “You know what that means?”

  “What?” Her breathy voice goes straight to my dick.

  “It means you’re going to get your beautiful ass fucked.”

  Her thighs snap together, ass cheeks squeeze up tight at the same time her breath hitches.

  I nip her ear as I grip her ass with both hands, kneading the tightened muscles. “You’d better practice relaxing all this, baby. The more your resist me, the harder it will go for you.”

  Her cheeks relax, first one, then the other.

  “That’s good,” I murmur as I unhook the back of her bra. “Do what you’re told and I just might let you come when I’m finished.”

  Her head snaps up, eyes blazing with her customary defiance. I smile and touch her nose. “I’m gonna start by painting your ass red.”

  Her pupils are already dilated, breath short. I sit on the bed and tug her over my lap.

  “And I thought I’d do it the old fashioned way.” I slap her ass.

  She makes a surprised little shriek.

  I rub the spot I slapped, then tug her panties down and off her legs. “Your ass looks so good with my handprints, baby.”

  Desiree makes an unintelligible sound. Good, she’s already starting on her sexy little noises. I intend to make tonight good for her even if it does push her boundaries. I already tossed a tube of lube on the bed and intend to use plenty. I may call it punishment, but I want it to be the best possible kind.

  I give her a spanking. It’s more satisfying than I might have guessed—having her bent over my knee like this is real punishment and not just searing sex play. Maybe there is a thread of real discipline in there. Paying her back for making me sweat this morning, for believing she’d betrayed my trust before she turned my world on end by swearing loyalty.

  I love this woman.

  Fuck, that’s crazy to admit, but like my youngest brothers, I’m suddenly a changed man.

  Because of a woman.

  And her surrender to me—the way she squirms over my lap while I turn her ass pink—is a level of intimacy I never had with anyone—including my...wife. Fuck, I have to tie up that loose end. I can’t have a wife when I feel this way about Desiree. Even if I haven’t touched Marne in years.

  I stop spanking and circle my palm over Desiree’s heated skin. She moans softly. More like a hum or a purr. That’s it—she’s purring. I slide my fingers between her legs, and I’m not surprised when I find she’s sopping wet. Her flesh is slick and swollen, welcoming to my touch. Two fingers slide in her easily, gliding in and out. I reach for the bottle of lube with my other hand and pop it open with my thumb.

  “You ready for your ass-fucking, baby?” I pry her cheeks apart with the fingers of one hand and squirt a dollop of lube over her asshole.

  “No,” she says, a sullen teenager tone to her voice. It’s so fucking cute I want to kiss her senseless, but instead I pop her ass.

  “Wrong answer, doll.” I go in immediately, massaging her anus, applying gentle pressure until she relaxes and lets my finger in. Her vocalizations go wild the minute I penetrate her ass, raising in pitch, never stopping. I use my finger to stretch her, get her used to the sensation of having something in her ass. “That’s it, baby. Submit. This is the ass-fucking you’ve been begging for since the minute you got here.”

  Her pussy drips moisture, moans grow louder.

  I pull my finger out and slap her ass. “Bend over the bed, baby.” I slide her off my lap and arrange her so her butt is out and ready for me. “If you take my cock like a good girl, I’ll let you touch yourself while I punish you.”

  She doesn’t wait for permission. At the suggestion, she immediately slides her hand be
tween her legs and starts working her slick folds, which makes my aching cock even harder.

  I unzip my pants and free my erection, then lube it up good. Pushing her cheeks apart, I line the head up with her anus. “Take it,” I tell her, pushing without any force.

  She draws in a breath, then lets it out, and the tight muscles yawn to let me in. I ease in slowly, stretching her wide, filling her.

  I sense her fingers working frantically between her legs, giving her clit the stimulation she requires to make this pleasure and not discomfort.

  “Is this how you thought it would go, doll? In those fantasies of yours?”

  “Yes,” she moans. “Junior, please.”

  I’m shaking from holding back. Cristo, I want to pound into her until she screams, but I know better. I go ever-so-slowly, straight in, back out, taking care not to over stretch her. “What do you need, baby? You want it harder?”

  “No!” she yelps. “Yes. Wait, I don’t know.”

  I chuckle. “Don’t worry, doll. I’m gonna take care of you. I know just how you need to be fucked tonight, and I’m gonna give it to you right. You like having your ass fucked by me?”

  She whimpers.

  “Hmm?”

  “Yes—I don’t know. Please.”

  “Please let you come? Not until I do. You know the rules. This ass belongs to me tonight, and I’m going to fuck it good before I let you get off. Capiche?”

  “Capito, capito, capito. Junior. Ohmygod. Junior. What are you doing to me? Jesus, that’s good. That’s so good. So crazy. Oh wait, it’s too much. It’s too much. Wait, please. More. Oh God. Junior.”

  I let the wave of Desiree-sex-babble roll over me, another hit of pleasure to my senses. The sound of my woman about to combust.

  I hold her hips and increase my rhythm, still careful not to get rough or erratic with my thrusts. “You sorry now, baby? Good and sorry?”

  “Ohmygod, Junior, I’m so fucking sorry. Please, please, please let me come. I have to come. I need to come right now. Oh please, Junior, please finish. I need more. I need it to be over. I need it so bad.”