by Renee Rose
“Thank you.” She looked a little stunned, as if she couldn’t believe her good fortune, which was the way he liked it.
He raked his eyes over her one last time, feeling quite lucky himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lexi. Good night,” he said, stealing one last kiss.
* * * * *
Lexi spent the next day in a turmoil. She could not believe she was considering entering into an arrangement with a mobster. A married mobster, no less. The part of her with good judgment knew she’d be walking into trouble. But the desperate part of her, the part that didn’t want to sleep on Gina’s couch or move back to Kansas just to be able to eat, couldn’t walk away from this opportunity. And when Bobby called to tell her he had paid off her debt to her landlord and would have her things back for her by the following day, she felt more supported than she could ever remember.
She used the money he left to buy a new outfit, since she didn’t have access to her things, but by the time he picked her up, she wished she’d chosen something sexier than jeans and a blouse. She realized she wanted to impress him. She didn’t know how much of an audition he would hold for the position of mob mistress, but she planned on nailing it.
He arrived exactly at 6:00 and greeted her with a kiss, holding her jaw in place in that possessive way he had the night before at Plush. When their lips parted, he stroked his thumb down her cheek, his eyes roving over her face as if he might devour her. Or as if he owned her.
Her skin tingled from his touch, her lips craved more contact. “Hi,” she said, breathless.
He did not release her from his heated gaze. “Hi, yourself. How was your day?”
She nodded. “Good. I mean, great, thanks to you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, thanks for dealing with my landlord.”
He gave her a slow grin. “My pleasure. And now you owe me,” he murmured, tapping her lips with his thumb before releasing her.
She didn’t know what it meant to owe Bobby Manghini, but the nastiest part of her couldn’t wait to find out.
“We’ll get a quick bite first and then I’ll show you the apartment.”
She noticed he had the habit of informing, rather than asking, which she supposed she would have to get used to. It bothered her less than she would have guessed, just adding to his take-charge charisma.
He drove to a little Italian deli where they ordered sandwiches and sat outside on the patio, watching the passersby.
“So tell me about this job you’re applying for,” he said, surprising her with what seemed like genuine interest. She told him, heating under his attention and appreciative gaze. When he wasn’t looking, she studied him, too, remembering their sex the night before. She thought of him naked — all chiseled muscle, dark, manly curls dusting his chest. Using him out of financial desperation was not really a sacrifice. He didn’t seem like the kind who had to buy a lover. In fact, she was surprised he didn’t have women throwing themselves at his feet. Of course, maybe he did...
He drove to his apartment and parked in an underground parking lot, leading her to the elevator with his hand at her low back. He kissed her on the way up, melting her nervous energy with each persistent stroke of his tongue. By the time they reached his floor, her skin tingled for his touch.
“So this is the place,” Bobby said, tossing her the keys after he opened the door to his apartment. “The washer and dryer are in that closet over there. Garbage gets dumped in the bin in the parking garage. The cleaners come in every other Tuesday, around noon.”
His Chicago high-rise apartment shone with posh polished hardwood floors, travertine tile countertops, gleaming stainless appliances. She had never lived in any sort of luxury — her middle-class Kansas upbringing and ten years making ends meet in the Windy City had not afforded such opulence.
She looked around, imagining what it would be like to make this arrangement with Bobby long-term, to move into this place and be his goomah. She looked down at the keys.
“Are you really giving these to me? Just like that?”
He stepped closer. “Yeah.”
She wrinkled her brow. “But you don’t even know me. Aren’t you afraid I’ll walk off with your television or something?”
He made a scoffing sound. “Nobody steals from Bobby Manghini.”
The reality of his statement hit home. Of course not. No one robs a mafia boss if they want to live. The blood drained from her face.
He noticed and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her against him. “Hey,” he said softly. “That wasn’t a threat. I know you wouldn’t steal from me.”
“How do you know?” she persisted.
“I know people. You have moral standards.”
“What else do you think you know about me?”
“I know the fact that you need this place is the only reason you’re considering getting involved with a guy like me. I know it goes against your better instincts. But I also know you liked the sex and you’re ready for more.”
She stared at him, shocked at how easily he had read her. Her nipples had gone hard at the mention of sex — he’d been right on all accounts. She did want him again. Licking her lips, she said, “So, how would this work?”
“Here’s the deal. You make yourself available to me. If you’re not working at the hair salon, your time is mine. You don’t have to sit around and wait for me — I’ll text you in advance, but you don’t tell me you’re busy, got it? If you have plans, you change them.”
“Got it.”
“No men here, ever. You don’t sleep with or date other men.”
“Capisce,” she said, trying out her Italian.
His lips twitched. “Capito,” he corrected.
“Sorry. I’m a quick learner, I promise.”
“Yeah, you’re a smart girl, I know that. You listen more than you talk and you don’t make stupid remarks.”
“Is that your definition of smart?”
He looked amused, his brown eyes all-knowing, the thick dark lashes giving him a permanently sultry look. “Yeah.”
A lick of heat set her pussy on fire when their eyes caught and held.
“You are my goomah. That means you don’t mix with my immediate family. I will count on your discretion.”
“Of course,” she agreed.
“One more rule. The most important one,” he said holding her eyes with an intensity that made her belly flip. He took on a stern look. “You don’t talk about me to anyone. Not when I come, when I go. Not what I say. Not what we do. Not anything. Understand?”
She nodded.
“Breaking any of my rules will get you punished.”
She drew in a breath, hardly daring to ask. “Punished?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Yeah, spanked. Whipped. Punished. Got it?”
She almost laughed. She had expected him to say whacked. Maybe she’d watched too many Sopranos episodes. But Bobby Manghini had a kinky side, it seemed. And the idea of his asserting his authority over her with physical punishment did not dim his appeal one bit.
“I understand,” she said. “Capito.”
“Do we have a deal?”
She nodded. “Deal.”
In a flash he had her blouse up over her head and backed her against a barstool. He moved in for a kiss at the same time his fingers worked the buttons on her designer jeans. His lips attacked hers, tongue demanding entry as he kissed and sucked.
Heat suffused her body. She stood on her tiptoes, one arm around his neck, trying to keep up with the onslaught. He had her jeans down in record time, giving her no chance to feel shy about stripping in front of the giant glass window overlooking the city lights.
“Lexi, you are so hot,” he murmured, straightening up and cupping one breast while his other hand gripped her nape.
Hearing her name and his appreciation made her pussy clench with excitement. He slid his hand inside her bra and rubbed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She arched into him, breathless.
He picked her up and sat her on the countertop, spreading her knees and pulling her panties to the side. She jerked when his tongue met her pussy, the shock of sensation making her throw her head back and moan. She fell back onto her forearms, closing her eyes and squirming under his ministrations.
She loved having her pussy licked, but it never made her come. Even when Bobby simultaneously thrust two fingers inside her, she could not crest the peak. In general, she had a hard time orgasming with a partner, which was why she had questioned his cockiness the night before.
He pulled her down from the counter and led her to the sofa, bending her over the padded arm. Sliding her panties down to her thighs, he shocked her by delivering a sharp slap. She gasped and tried to stand up, but he held her down with a hand at her low back, continuing to spank her bare ass with the flat of his hand. The slaps sounded loud and the initial impact made her jerk, but the sting did not set in for a few moments. When it did, she began to buck, trying to convey she’d had enough. She’d never been spanked before — during sex or otherwise—and the intensity surprised her.
He gave her four more hard swats, then gripped the cheek of her ass and squeezed. “Mmm…this is delicious.”
She moaned, the fire not just on the surface of her ass, but burning inside her. She wanted him with a desperation she’d never before felt.
“Yes…” she moaned. Her heart thudded with the excitement of it all — sex with a near stranger, the proposed mistress arrangement and the dominant way Bobby handled her.
She heard the crinkle of a wrapper and the snap of a condom. He pushed in easily, surprising her with how wet she’d become.
Drunk with need, her eyelids fluttered as he held her hips and pounded into her. When he twisted both her arms behind her back as if restraining her — as if taking her by force rather than invitation — she shattered, bucking. Her muscles contracted around his cock in endless waves until he made a guttural sound and slammed into her, shooting his load.
Dazed, she collapsed in a boneless mass, her face buried in the soft cushions. She hardly noticed Bobby had pulled out or moved until he lifted and turned her around, scooping under her knees and shoulders to carry her to a large, beautifully appointed bedroom.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and mumbled, “Okay, you were right about the sex.”
He chuckled, a warm rumbling in his chest. “I’m always right. Even if I’m wrong. I’m the boss around here, capisce?”
She giggled. “Capito.”
“Good girl.” He laid her down on the bed and smacked her ass.
“Ow!” she yelped, but her body was too languid to react. She rolled to her back and blinked up at him, admiring the sleek lines of his muscular torso. She’d had no idea she would react to a spanking or being handled roughly, but it had been the fastest she’d ever come to orgasm in her life. Had he seen something in her she had missed for her entire adult life? “So... about that. I know people get spanky during sex and all, but what made you think I would like it?”
He crawled over her, smirking. “I didn’t. It’s just what I wanted to do.”
* * * * *
He watched her flush as she digested his words, probably half offended, half turned on. He could have described all the little signs she gave that told him she was the type who got turned on by dominance, but revealing his hand would only dim the electricity between them.
He kissed her, his palm roaming over her soft skin. He never felt tender until after sex, the actual act always bringing out his full aggression and desire to control. Finding a girl like Lexi, who didn’t just tolerate his quirk, but responded with a matching level of desire was a win. He wanted things to work out with her.
He traced her cheekbone with his thumb. “So, can you handle being my girl?”
She moved to sit up, but he held her down, rolling on top and pinning her hands over her head.
“I think so,” she murmured. Her blue-eyed gaze turned sultry but he could sense the tinge of nervous energy behind it. He didn’t mind — it proved her intelligence. She was walking into the arrangement with open eyes.
He landed another kiss on her mouth. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart,” he murmured, and meant it. Releasing her wrists, he rolled off her and climbed out of the bed. “I hate to leave, but I gotta get home,” he said.
His twin nineteen-year-old daughters had lived with him since his divorce nine years earlier, and he liked to be around enough to know what they were up to. He had agreed to give them more independence if they stayed living at home, rather than move into the dorms at the University of Chicago last fall. He attempted to provide a stable landing pad in hopes they would keep good heads on their shoulders.
He also liked letting Lexi believe he still had a wife. It added to the “goomah” arrangement.
“I’m sorry, there isn’t much to eat in the kitchen, but here’s some cash so you can go out for a nice breakfast on me.” He dropped two hundred dollar bills on the dresser. “Take the keys to lock up when you leave. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at 7:00 for a date — how’s that sound?”
“Great. Yeah, thanks.”
He dropped another hundred on the dresser. “Go buy yourself a short skirt, I want to see those long legs on full display.”
She grinned. “As you wish, my lord.”
He leaned over and smacked her ass again, hard enough to make her yelp. “You’d better watch out, little girl, or I’ll give you a real taste of authority.”
He loved watching her eyes dilate in response to his threat. He gave her another kiss and left, the victory of his new conquest putting a spring into his step.
Chapter Three
Waking up in the luxurious bed brought the events of the previous night back in a rush. Oddly, Lexi didn’t feel as cheap and dirty in the light of day as she thought she would. Yes, she was dating a married man, a sin for which she would probably burn in hell, or which would at least have karmic repercussions for her future relationships. But she’d gone from the prospect of crashing on Gina’s couch to having a beautiful penthouse, and it sounded like Bobby was going to take care of her problems with the landlord.
And so far, the strings attached were not so distasteful. He’d been right about the sex —he rocked her world. And the mistress thing? Well, she definitely felt bad about the situation. She never thought she would be a home-wrecker. But she wasn’t the first goomah he’d taken, either. She didn’t coax him into cheating. For her part, all she had to do was keep from falling in love.
She went shopping on her lunch hour to buy some clothes, picking out a short skirt, as he’d requested. When she returned to the apartment, she found two guys moving boxes with her personal items from a truck into the elevator.
“Are you Lexi?” one of them asked. “Bobby sent us. I’m Tommy, this is Junior. We’ve got all your stuff.”
She gaped in surprise, trying to peek in the boxes they were moving. “Did you pack it, too?”
“Yep,” the young man called Junior said. “Bobby has storage in the basement of this place. That’s where we moved your furniture.”
The thought of them moving her flea market finds embarrassed her, but she thanked them, following them into the apartment.
“Thank you so much,” she said when they had unloaded everything.
“Hey, anything for Bobby’s girl,” Tommy told her.
Bobby’s girl. She did not mind the sound of that. Especially considering the perks that seemed to come with it.
She unpacked a few boxes before she had to get ready for their date, digging out her sexiest lingerie and a spaghetti strap blouse to wear with the requested skirt.
When she heard his key in the lock, she rubbed her glossed lips together and went to meet him. He looked as sexy as ever, his designer suit draping his muscular frame with a slouchy elegance.
She had done her best to impress, and her appearance had its intended effect. He closed the door and leaned his back against it. “Oh no,”
he said, his eyes raking up and down her body.
“What?”
“I cannot go out with you looking like that.”
She cocked her head, assuming he was pleased, but not knowing him well enough to be sure. “Why not?”
“Because I will be blue-balling it all through dinner.”
She smiled seductively. “Well, maybe we should take care of that before we go, then.”
“Nah,” he said. “I don’t want to muss your hair when you’re looking so good.”
“Muss my hair?” She smirked, grabbing the hem of her short skirt and yanking it up to flash him her panties before she kicked off her heels and went running for the bedroom.
The sound of his low chuckle preceded thundering footsteps and he caught her around the waist just as she reached the door. She gave a shriek of excitement.
“Now you’re in big trouble,” he said, setting her feet back on the ground. She started to take off again, only to have him block her and pin her back against the wall by her upper arms.
She kicked her dangling feet, giggling. He insinuated his thigh between hers, leaning forward and dragging his mouth up her neck. She panted, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Oh God,” he moaned. “Do you know what you’re doing to me? You’re going to get yourself fucked right here against this wall. Is that what you want?”
His words set her on fire, the coarseness of his language flicking the switch from hot to flaming. His fingers bit into the flesh of her arms, but she didn’t want it to end. “Yeah,” she breathed.
His eyelids flickered, and he inhaled deeply, releasing her arms and sliding his hands up inside her blouse to cup her breasts. With her back planted against the wall and her legs wound around his waist, he held her pinned in position. She lost her mind completely, so crazed with desire she could not wait another instant to have him inside her. She reached for the button on his slacks, managing to undo it as he kneaded her ass with his hands. He grabbed his wallet out of his pocket before he wriggled to shimmy his slacks down. Retrieving a condom from the billfold and putting it between his teeth, he tossed the wallet on the floor with the pants, then slipped his finger in the gusset of her panties. Finding her wet, he made an approving noise. She snatched the condom from his mouth and ripped open the wrapper, grasping his cock with a firm grip to slide it on.
