by Renee Rose
She fit her key in the lock and turned it, pushing the door open to see a man lounging on her futon.
She screamed.
“Easy, Lex, it’s just me,” Bobby said, standing up. His face appeared pinched and tired.
Her heart, already jump-started and on edge from the seven-hour confinement with the FBI, did not slow. A terrible thought struck her: he knew.
“I didn’t tell them anything, I swear,” she said, backing toward the door.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, his tone turning aggressive as he closed the distance between them.
Too rattled to think straight, she panicked, bolting out the apartment for the stairwell.
The sound of his footfalls thundering behind her only increased her terror. A strong arm clamped around her waist and Bobby lifted her feet from the floor, pulling her up against his body like a rag doll.
“Easy, baby. I’m not here to hurt you. I would never harm you. Are you telling me the Feds picked you up?”
She struggled to follow his words, her brain not processing as it should.
He eased her down to the floor and turned her shoulders to face him. Cupping her face in his hands, he commanded, “Look at me.”
She lifted her eyes, locking on his warm gaze, the familiar kindness bringing her back to reality. It was just Bobby, the man she knew and understood. Or had thought she had.
“How did you get in my apartment?” she asked, still foggy.
He rolled his eyes as if opening locks was child’s play. “Hey, don’t look so scared. You think I would hurt you? I just came to talk.”
“I didn’t squeal. They wanted me to get back together with you and wear a wire. They said they will prosecute me for tax fraud. But I wouldn’t do it, I promise you.” She found herself crying, though not at any particular emotion, more just a release of the terrible stress of the day.
“Son of a bitch,” Bobby swore. “It’s bullshit, and I will take care of it. Whatever tax problem they invented, I will make it go away. I won’t let them use you to get to me.” He lowered his face to hers, until their eyes were level. “I am so sorry. I never wanted you involved in any of my troubles.”
She sniffed, remembering how adamant he’d been about keeping her separate. “It’s probably my fault — for calling you at home that night.”
“Shh. No. It’s my fault. And I’ll fix it. Regardless of whether you take me back or not, okay?” He rubbed her arms. “I love you and I wouldn’t leave you hanging out to dry. You don’t have to sleep with me or be my girl. I’ll take care of it for you.”
She meant to pull it together, but instead she fell apart, her sniffles turning into full-fledged bawling.
He opened his arms and she leaped into them, straddling his waist like a child. He rubbed her back, carrying her to her apartment, where he shut the door.
“They had me there for hours,” she choked. “They ignored me every time I asked for a lawyer. It was horrible.”
“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry you suffered because of me. I’m sorry I got you into this. I will get you out.”
She scrubbed her face with the back of her hand, calming her sobs. “Could you go back to the other thing you said?
“I said I’d take care of it, period. No matter what happens between us.”
“The part before that.”
He smiled wistfully, brushing her hair back from her face. “I said I love you. Lexi, I fucked up. I wanted you as a goomah rather than a girlfriend because it suited my kink. It got me off to feel like I owned you. And I know that is inherently disrespectful, but I truly meant you no disrespect by it. And these last two weeks without you have made me realize that what you and I had — what we have — is something special. It goes way beyond some arrangement we made for you to stay in my apartment. And it would be there even without any kind of power structure. You get me. And I get you. And we like knowing how to tweak each other.
“And I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t deem you worthy enough to be a girlfriend or a wife. That’s not the case. I would marry you tonight, if you would have me. I want you back, Lex, any way you’ll take me. On your terms.”
Tears ran down her cheeks, but her heart lightened, as if the bands constricting it over the past weeks had snapped and it could expand to fill her whole chest. “I love you, too,” she whispered.
He snatched her up, clutching her against his chest so tightly she couldn’t breathe.
“Will you take me back?”
“Yes,” she rasped.
He scooped her up and carried her to the futon, settling with his back propped against the wall and her cradled in his lap.
“So if I say I want to be your wife, you’ll marry me right now?” she tested.
He nodded. “We’d probably have to fly to Vegas because it’s too late here, but yeah. Absolutely.”
She smiled. “I don’t think that’s what I want. I was just checking.”
He chuckled. “All right. So what do you want?”
“I could move into your house? Do your daughters live with you?”
He nodded. “Yes. They would be delighted if you would move in with us.”
“How about you?”
“I would be overjoyed.”
Her lips twisted into a wry grin. “Would you still spank me?”
His face remained perfectly blank. “They’re your terms.”
She considered him. “How about no hairbrush?”
He threw back his head and laughed, just before he fell upon her, his hand catching the back of her head as he tackled her to the bed. He claimed her mouth, twisting her lips under his aggressively. “I missed you,” he said when he came up for air. He yanked her shirt up and pulled down the cup of her bra to tease her nipple with his tongue. “You have no idea how much I missed you,” he said before returning to swirling his tongue over the pebbled tip, his knee coaxing between her legs, his hips rocking over hers.
He flicked his tongue over the tip of her nipple, then sucked it deeply into his mouth like a nursing baby before releasing it abruptly and nipping with his teeth.
She gasped, clawing at his arms at the brief pain he’d inflicted before he returned to pleasuring her. One of his hands stroked down her belly, slipping inside the front of her slacks and panties where he curled a finger into her pussy.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, arching to encourage more plundering. Bobby made an approving sound deep in his throat and yanked her pants down, pulling them off her legs and tossing them behind him. Her shirt flew off next, and she lay in her black lacy bra and panties while he sat back and drank her in with the look of a man starved for the sight of a woman. As if it were a holy event, worthy of praising God or falling to one’s knees.
Without taking his eyes from her, he slowly unbuckled his belt, making her belly flutter wondering whether he intended to divest himself of his pants or whip her with it. He did neither.
Instead, he wrapped it around her wrists and secured her to the arm of the futon before he drew down her panties and parted her legs. He slid a finger inside her at the same time he slapped her breast, making her writhe under his delicious torture.
“Bobby,” she muttered.
“Yeah, baby?” he said, repeating the breast slap as he pushed two fingers into the hilt, his thumb hitting her clit.
“Too much,” she moaned, the intensity already sending her over the edge.
* * * * *
He withdrew his fingers and sat back, yanking off his suit jacket and removing his pants and boxer briefs.
He should slow down, but he couldn’t. He needed her as desperately as she seemed to want him. He rolled her hips to the side and dipped his index finger into her pussy, coating it with her natural lubrication, then pulled her cheeks apart and found her anus. He gave her little time to adjust to the idea before he insisted, breaching her tight hole.
Her moan sounded wanton, and her eyes held that pre-climactic look of panic. He reached up with his free
hand to unbuckle the belt binding her wrists.
“Get up,” he commanded, though his finger still invaded her ass. “You climb on top.”
She moved slowly, looking disoriented, already lost to passion and submission. He guided her to straddle him, shuddering when her moist heat enveloped his cock. He gripped her ass with his free hand and used it to encourage a gliding rhythm, his embedded finger also urging her on.
She looked wild, her hair falling down her back, her breasts spilling out of her bra, her expression one of animalistic need. He kept the pace, though he knew she was desperate to come.
She clenched her teeth and let out a continuous, low squeal and he pulled her harder, shoved deep inside her until he broke, holding her tight to him while plunging his finger in and out of her ass. “Now, Lexi!”
She screamed, a sound from deep in her throat, her vaginal muscles squeezing his length until they both had spent.
Easing his finger from her ass, he pulled her down on top of him, holding her as they both caught their breaths.
When the beating of her heart against his chest had slowed, she lifted her head. “I’m not moving in with you,” she said.
He went still, studying her face, praying to the Virgin Mary she wasn’t still breaking up with him.
“No?” he managed.
She shook her head. “I want my apartment back. I need a sugar daddy.”
His lips twisted into a grin. “There will be stipulations.”
She rocked her hips, teasing his cock still inside her. “I can live with your rules.” She leaned down and kissed him, her lips supple and soft. “And your consequences.”
“I’m not taking the hairbrush off the list of possible punishments,” he warned.
She shivered. “Then I’ll have to be very careful not to piss you off.”
He grasped her nape and pulled her down for another kiss, this time possessive and rough. “You can’t walk out on me again.”
He didn’t know how she’d take that edict, but she smiled seductively. “Does that mean I’ll be your prisoner?”
“That’s right,” he said. “I’m never letting you go.”
“I can live with that,” she said, settling her head down on his chest.
He ran his hand up and down her spine, unhooking her bra for full, unfettered access. A sense of contentment flowed through him in waves.
Lexi was his girl again. Willing to be owned, to play his game. Not out of financial desperation this time, but because she chose it.
He sighed. He could not ask for more.
Epilogue
Janine and Juliana helped him pick it out, one of them driving the car over to the apartment and the other following to transport home.
“We don’t get to stay and watch when you give it to her?”
“Sorry, girls. Some things are private. Thanks for your help, though. I’ll let Lexi know you chose it for her.”
They had selected a brand new, dark blue Mercedes Cabriolet convertible for Lexi’s birthday. She had maintained she didn’t need a car, but he knew her life would be simpler if she had one, and the sooner she released any remaining fear she had from her accident, the better.
He’d been trying to ease all her stresses, one by one. He had sicced his attorney on her tax fraud case and had it dismissed before it ever reached any charges. He also paid off the trumped up liability. He discovered her medical bills and cleared that debt as well. And she had finally agreed to let him take her home to Kansas, by insisting he wanted to meet her family. She seemed a bit nervous about their upcoming trip, but he had assured her if she wouldn’t judge his family — and there was plenty to judge — he wouldn’t judge hers.
Taking care of her still gave him a high, but it was no longer from the expectation of wielding power over her. Now it came from the genuine desire to express his love, to show her how much he cherished her. Not that he didn’t still pull the power play every chance he got.
He took the elevator upstairs, fiddling with the key in his pocket, surprised at how nervous he felt.
He really, really wanted her to like it.
He opened the door and met her as she came dashing out of the bedroom to greet him, a big smile on her face. Handing her a bouquet of roses and stargazer lilies, he pulled her body against his, delivering a sensuous kiss to her glossed lips. “Happy birthday,” he murmured.
“Thank you,” she said, pressing her breasts against his ribs.
He ran his hands down her sides and in a circle over her perfect ass. “Your present is in the car, are you ready for it?”
“Yes!” she said, like an eager child. “Let me just slip my shoes on.” Her shoes were a pair of blue sandals with a thin platform heel which made her sculpted calves look incredible.
“You look beautiful,” he told her as he put a hand at her low back to guide her out.
She chattered away on the elevator ride down, but he honestly couldn’t hear a word she said, thinking about his gift. He hoped the thought of driving didn’t intimidate her too much, making the present a poke at her sore spot.
He led her across the parking garage, where the new car sat with a giant white bow tied around the top.
“We’ll take this one,” he said when they rounded the corner to face it.
She stopped, her eyes widening, her jaw falling open. “Oh my God! Is this for me? This is mine?”
“Yeah,” he said, his mouth dry. He didn’t know why this should make him so nervous—it wasn’t a wedding proposal or anything. “I want you to start driving again. But it has some strings attached.”
She didn’t respond at first, still adjusting to the shock of the sixty thousand dollar gift. After a few beats, she swiveled to look at him, her mouth curving into a seductive smile. “What strings?” she asked, sliding a hand up the lapel of his jacket.
“I’m thinking something like a weekly blowjob, and,” he said, pulling a silver choker out of his pocket, “you wear my collar. It means I own you.”
The necklace was a series of large silver dots—a tasteful, contemporary piece classy enough to wear anywhere.
“I thought you already did,” she said softly, but turned her back to him, lifting her hair from her neck so he could put it on.
“I do,” he said, kissing her neck. “But now you’ll have the collar to prove it.”
“And what happens if I forget to wear it?” she asked when she turned, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.
He took her ass in both hands, kneading it. “I’ll spank you until you can’t sit down,” he said.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “Promise?”
He pushed her up against the car, squeezing her breast in one hand as he pulled her head back by her hair and nipped at her neck. “I should fuck you right here in this parking garage, little girl. Fuck you over the hood of your new car. That would help you remember who you belong to, wouldn’t it?”
She made a squeak.
A car pulled into the garage and he eased away. “You’re lucky,” he said, his voice thick. “Next time I’ll do it, whether someone drives by or not.” He pinched her nipples, which protruded through the padding in her bra. “Get in the car.”
She moved toward the passenger seat.
“The driver’s side, silly,” he said.
“Oh! Right. You’re letting me drive?”
“It’s your car, isn’t it?” he asked, but he knew what she meant. “Just this once I’ll let you drive me around, little girl.”
She fingered the choker, turning to gaze up at him. “Bobby... thank you,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “I can’t decide which I love more.”
He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’m glad you like them,” he murmured.
She nodded. “I love you.”
He wrapped his arm around her and cradled her face for a tender kiss. “I love you, Lexi. I’m keeping you forever.”
She stood on her tiptoes for another kiss. “You’d better,” she whispered.
The Bossman
http://riverdaleavebooks.com/books/4112/the-bossman
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Table of Contents
Mob Mistress, Book Two of The Bossman Series © 2014 by Renee Rose
What they are saying about The Bossman by Renee Rose
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Other Riverdale Avenue Books by Renee Rose
