by Coco Miller
But she’s all smiles.
I taste her palm with a wet kiss. “You know I will. I’ll lick you from ass to clit and make you come so fast you’ll be begging for this dick to fuck you.”
Her hips shift in her seat and I know what that means.
“Mmmm.” She licks her lips.
And then I lick her everywhere else and it ends exactly like I thought…with begging.
Chapter Seven
Carmine
They say money makes the world go round. Maybe that’s true for most. But for me, what I love most, what makes me tick is the moment right before the magic happens. When I have a woman just on the ledge and all I have to do is give a slight push of my hips to send her sailing overboard and watch her shatter into a million broken pieces underneath me.
Tonight, I’m about to break records.
I’ve had Jasmine on the ledge, teetering back and forth like this is my ultimate playground, for the last three hours. My hidden camera sitting on the dresser captures every exhale of my name from her lips.
No one is going to pop out and tell her she’s being punked. This isn’t that kind of hidden camera show. No, this is for playback. Some call it “revenge porn” but I’m too old school for that. And to be honest, I’m not here to actually fuck Jasmine over. Sadly, for her she’s just going to be collateral damage to what I do to her piece of shit father.
“Come for me, Kitten,” I say, thrusting a vibrator inside her cunt until she slips so far off the ledge that she has no choice but to arch her back, let her lips fall open and curse my name as she plummets into the depths of her orgasm.
And maybe I lied.
Maybe the best part is actually afterward when the girl starts to resurface, and she slowly opens her eyes, allowing a shy, satisfied smile to spread across her beautiful face. Like a postcard greeting. ‘Thanks for making me come.’ I smile back and kiss those cherry lips that will get the revenge against Chuckie I crave.
“Thank you, daddy,” she pants in what sounds like an almost reverent voice. “That felt amazing.”
I grin as I glance at the hidden HD camera capturing all of her post-high, naked body sprawled out across my black silk bed sheets. Jasmine is laid out like she’s a feast for the devil.
You’re welcome, kitten. So fuckin welcome.
There’s something about the hunt for revenge that brings me to life. In the hunt I am bold. I prowl without conscience. I smirk and tell my prey nothing but lies. I am better dressed than the blue and white polo and khaki pants the schmucks of this club wear. I’m far from a mandatory name badge in a sea of corporate serpents. I’m the guy men want to be and women want to be fucked by.
I have no rules.
I take without asking.
I am given what I want without a request.
Jasmine is by my side as I scope the room. I’m here on business, looking for someone in particular, but she doesn’t need to know anything about it. Tonight she’s just a pretty girl on my arm because I need one in my line of work to maintain appearances, but also because I want her to be seen.
I heard from the wire that everything is going according to schedule. Chuckie is heated over the pics of us from shopping already. So my plan is working. I sip my expensive whiskey as my kitten wraps her lips around a glass of wine and acts casual. After a moment she tugs on my arm. “I need to use the ladies' room.”
I nod and then eye my security team, watching as they follow her without being spotted. Fuck, this place is hella boring. I can’t take the suit and tie types for long and I don’t see my mark. I order another drink and finish it off quickly, then order one more. As I wait for Jasmine to do whatever it is girls do in the bathroom for so damn long, I walk the room.
There’s an older woman that was probably hot in her youth sitting alone. Back when I was a kid, I would work someone like her. She’d be an easy score. For old time’s sake, I ask if I can take a seat and of course she obliges.
“Come here often?” she asks. “Boring for someone like you, isn’t it? Bunch of old fools showing off who has a bigger dick?”
“It’s a place to drink.” I shrug and act casual. “I came to drink.”
“With a lady friend?” I put my eyes on her fake cleavage. I’d guess she’s around fifty-three years old and divorced twice.
Her perfume is choke-worthy and cheap which is why she uses so much. She isn’t bothered by the wasted cost. The woman is hair-sprayed to the hilt and trying too hard. I smirk anyhow because that’s my damn role. I keep my eyes on her full fake tits since that is where she put the most effort.
“I came alone.” I draw my eyes up to hers. Flat. Desperate. “And I hate that.”
She moves closer. Touches my shoulder. “Being alone?”
I lean into her dirty blonde, stiff hair. “Coming alone.”
And any other man would have been slapped and drink tossed in the face for that shit. But me? Well, I get a stroke of the thigh beneath the table. A whispered offer of relief from her lips. But I’m not here for fucking. I’m here to reach into her bag and steal her shit as she rubs her wrinkled fingers across my cock, and then I lose her as I excuse myself to the restroom. Of course that’s a lie.
“I’ll be right back, love.”
I dump her purse and take the good shit, leaving the rest in the trash can. I slither between the crowded room and find the girl I want waiting back by the bar looking extremely fuckable in a tight black dress and sparkling jewelry.
Her hips are wide and curvaceous. Her soft skin looks divine against the black dress and shining accents of diamonds and gold. Tonight, she has on low heels and looks quite the lady instead of someone that was bought and paid for, which I love.
I grab her around the waist. “Let’s get the fuck outta here, kitten.”
“Where to?” she smiles up at me.
“I got a nice spot. You like the ocean?”
“The beach? Oh, I love it.”
“Good, then that’s where we are going.”
Baby laughs a little. “But it’s night time.”
I grin, clutching her tightly to my side. “You only say that because you’ve never been fucked under the moonlight as the tide laps at your legs, kitten.”
“How about I’ve never been fucked.”
Someone is a little testy. I love it. Again, part of the mind fuck. The more I deny her the real thing, the more she’s going to want it.
“Oh, you’ve been fucked already. By my fingers and by mouth and you loved every minute.”
“You have such a dirty mouth.”
“You have no idea how down and dirty a man like me can get. You ready to find out how much?”
“You know I am.”
“Then let’s get the fuck out of here, Jasmine. I’ve been dying all night to rip that dress off your body.”
“Let’s go.”
“You’ve got it, baby. Follow me.”
We dash off in the Aston Martin Vanquish, ignoring the old lady as she finally tries to catch up to me and my thieving ways. Ah, yes, reminds me of my youth.
“Who was that?” Jasmine asks as we make a run for it.
I laugh, feeling freer than ever.
“Just some lady. Who knows. I’m always in trouble for something. It’s part of being with a man like me. You better get used to it.”
Chapter Eight
Carmine
“You’re like my father,” Jasmine giggles. “Always on the run for something bad.”
My mood suddenly changes as I shove her into the Aston Martin. Did she just compare me to her drug dealing, backstabbing father?
“Jasmine,” I say firmly, “Don’t ever compare me to your father. I’m nothing like him. He wishes he could pull off the shit I am capable of—you got it?”
She swallows hard. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“Well, you did, baby. Just don’t do it again. I don’t take kindly to that shit. Not at all.”
“I’m sorry.”
She l
ooks genuinely upset that she’s angered me. So I stroke her cheek. After all, it’s not her fault she comes from a family of shitheads.
“It’s okay. Just please don’t talk about him, alright? You’re blowing my high.”
“Yes, Mr. Volta.”
“Good. Let’s go to the beach and have some fuckin fun tonight. Okay, kitten?”
She nods quietly and I let the car vroom to life as it roars like the beast it is, dashing off into the night heading towards the ocean where everything makes more sense for some reason.
Maybe it’s how people are more laid back near the sea. Maybe it’s because everyone falls in line when they look out into the vastness of the ocean and realize just how really small they all are in comparison to the big picture. I know I do. How could you fucking not?
We find a dive bar that isn’t at all my normal scene but which is also kind of the point. Sometimes I wish I could just get away from all the pressure and bullshit of having this life.
I’m always in danger or threatening someone else’s life. It was something I was born into, I didn’t really have a choice. Orphans don’t get choices in life. You just get the fuckin card you were dealt and go from there.
My path was following around whoever tried to be a father type of figure to me. They were usually bad news bears, and most of them taught me how to do this shit. First they taught me how to handle myself. How to protect myself. How to protect others. Then they taught me how to steal and lastly how to run my own crew. So yeah, they made me this way. But I own it. And fortunately for me I have perfected it.
We find a younger group of barflies at the beach bar. Some of them think the car is cool and gather around for selfies. They don’t know that this car has hauled dead bodies. Such babies. Such innocent little shitheads. They obviously think I’m one of them just because I have gone from an asshole that wears suits and ties to an asshole who wears tee-shirts and denim with flip-flops.
I am too grown up for this scene but that’s part of the appeal, too. The mystery. The ease of it. The girls at the bar smile and part as I make my way up the withered wooden steps. The music is cheesy and expected, low rent rap shit like my girls dance to at Pinkies. The colored lights don’t do my precious kitten any justice. They deform and change her skin tone from that lovely pecan color to a smear of rainbows colors.
They cast fake green and orange glow on her perfect skin, and they make her eyes seem too dark and not the light caramel I crave. But she seems to love the scene. Baby is all smiles and high spirits as we make our way to the tiki bar. Yeah, a fuckin tiki bar and me. Imagine that? But the grin on her face makes me feel cool.
I sit and order something as typical and bland as the décor because they don’t stock anything good, on my level. I sit and stir the shaved ice and colored sugar syrup.
“Ohhh, I want to dance, babe!” Jasmine pulls on my arm. “Come dance with me. This is my song!”
A really loud pop song plays, and I am not that fuckin drunk or gone enough to play along with this shit. But she’s cute as hell and I smile big at her.
“You go, kitten. Have fun.”
“Oh, come on. I wanna dance with my date.”
I laugh to myself. Does she actually think this is a date?
“This isn’t my scene, kitten. I’m not a happy go lucky type of guy in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I have noticed, but I also noticed you brought me here . . . so what’s that all about if it isn’t your thing?”
“I want to watch you. I’m a bit of a hunter in that way. I like to see my prey prancing around before I attack and go for the kill.”
“Oh,” she chuckles, “So, you’re going to get me like the big bad wolf, huh?”
She thinks I’m playing. Maybe it’s because I haven’t slept with her yet. But she has no idea how serious I am.
“You definitely have the perfect red lips to be Little Red Riding.”
She grins playfully, coiling in toward me, which my dick loves. I get hard as she rubs her hands across my chest, but I have to put that feeling to rest for a moment while I try to collect myself and make sure I stay focused on the mission at hand.
Tonight, I am going to strike. Until then though, I’m going to enjoy myself. So, I watch Jasmine dance and smile and have a great time under the horrible lights as I drink cheaply made drinks at a crappy tiki bar on the beach.
Her eyes drift across the bar where I am. She looks away but then stares again. She keeps a hold long enough for me to turn to the girl at my right and see if my precious little kitten is jealous or not.
I am a hunter.
Teasing and testing my prey.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
I touch the girl’s pale cheek and lean in like I know or own her. I whisper in her ear that she is soft and so damn adorable. She kisses my cheek and I look back to Jasmine. She looks like she wants to kill the girl.
Yep, she’s definitely ready.
Chapter Nine
Jasmine
I’ve been living a dream for days now. I am walking on the beach with Carmine Volta. I can hardly believe it myself. I have to pinch my skin just to know if I am dreaming or living.
I wish I could tell someone about this, but nobody from my block would understand this kind of thing. Where I come from you either work as part of a clique or you just get lost in the everyday current of life’s ocean, no pun intended. That’s just how my world works.
I have a grandfather who wants me to work at his club until I’m a senior citizen, and I have a father who wants even more. He wants me to be part of his clique, part of the illegal game that keeps us with whatever little bit of money and status that keeps us safe and floating everyday, but I don't know how I feel about being constantly afraid of police and making enemies at every turn.
That’s why it’s so damn crazy to be here with Carmine. I know exactly who he is. I’m not an idiot. I know he’s a gangster, one of those old school Italian mafia boys who owns every block and swings his big dick around because he can, but damn, there’s something about him. The way he stands, his stride, the way he commands a room– he turns me completely on and he knows what he’s doing in the bedroom.
I mean obviously I’m a virgin and I don't have anything to compare him to, but the way he makes me feel when he eats me out and kisses all over me is something otherworldly. I have never felt so special and so satisfied before. He even took me on a shopping spree, tossing all kinds of cash my way without asking for anything in return, not even to be fucked.
Sure, I sucked the shit of out of his dick one night, but that was before he bought me stuff. I wanted to do it and I loved doing it. He just turns me on so damn bad I can’t help it.
I get wet knowing when he’s close by. It’s the craziest thing. The way he looks at me with those dark, deep, mysterious eyes and evil grin. Ooh-wee! I’m telling you, he is a man all his own. And I can’t get enough of him.
I dream about him at night and the dreams are super dirty. I’m doing things to him that I didn’t even know I could do. Things I guess I’ve seen my fair share of in the club. Even after he’s made me come on his mouth and with his fingers I still want more. I never want him to leave my side.
That night at the club when he beat down the drunk guy who wanted to hurt me with insults and probably worse, I have never had anyone step up for me like Carmine did. He beat that guy to a pulp just for thinking about doing harm to me. Everyone else would have just stood there, watched, and waited for me to handle it myself. Even my grandfather.
I know everyone at Pinkies thinks I’m either an idiot or some poor soul. I know the chatter behind my back. What kind of family would have a girl like me working as a cocktail waitress in a strip club. A good girl. A girl who got pretty decent grades in high school. A girl who wants more for her life than slinging drinks to horny men.
Well, it’s a simple story why. I started working at the club to help my mom, so she could escape where we live and give her a bett
er life away from my father’s life of drugs and bad choices. The job was obviously easy to get since my grandpa owns the place, and I make sure to save almost every penny I make. Then I guess we’ll buy a bus ticket and go as far as my money will take us.
There aren’t many choices for a girl like me, at least I didn’t think so before Carmine. He’s opened my eyes to how good life can be. He lives in such a different world than I do. But could we share worlds? Why is he interested in me anyhow? He could literally have any woman he wants. Why am I so damn special? Maybe because I’m a virgin. Did he already know that about me? Is it obvious? Has he had that many girls before me? Ugh, of course he has. He’s Carmine fucking Volta. I’m pretty sure that’s what it reads on his birth certificate.
The only thing I don’t like about Carmine is how quiet he is about things. It’s like he has so many secrets and I don’t know hardly anything about him. I know he has to protect himself from the law, he deals with criminals. Hell, he is a criminal, but I wish I could know more about him. I wish he would let me in a little bit. I don’t know how to crack his shell. It seems impenetrable and I don’t know where I stand with him.
Under the glow of the moon our skin turns silver. That’s a whole other issue for us. If there even is an “us”. The way we are together, who we are on the surface is also a huge hurdle. Even if we could work out the messy lines of our families and business, we still have to grapple with the taboo of us just being, well, us.
He’s this wealthy powerful Italian mobster and I’m a black girl born in the Bronx waiting tables for dollars. My friends would have a heart attack if they saw me with a man like this. Especially if I give him my virginity. My father would kill me, then him.
I can’t even imagine what Carmine’s peeps would say if they knew about me. I doubt he talks much about his women, because he doesn’t seem the type, but what if someone caught us like this? Maybe that’s why we are so far from the city tonight. The beach is a long way out from our usual stomping grounds. Is he hiding me? Is this our moment for something more away from the confines of our worlds? I hope so. Only one way to find out.
