by B. B. Hamel
He tasted like whiskey and smoke and fallen leaves. His tongue left me breathless and tingling when the elevator doors opened again and he led me out, down a series of plain hotel hallways, and finally in through a glass door that opened into a large, empty atrium.
The windows at the far end overlooked the city. I hadn’t realized how high up we’d gone, but I could see the whole city, all of it. I drifted over toward them, ignoring the generic furniture. I figured this was a lounge, though it was closed, the chairs up on top of the tables.
I heard a click behind me. Gian stood near the door, his fingers on the lock, and he tilted his head.
I backed up until I pressed against the windows. He came toward me slowly. He took off his jacket and draped it over a chair, then rolled up his sleeves. Tattoos covered his arms. He took off his skinny tie and tossed it onto the floor, and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, then the second, then the third. He stopped in front of me and his fingers traced the line of my hip, up along my breast, to my lips.
I opened my mouth and let his finger touch my tongue.
Then his hand was in my hair and he kissed me. His other hand gripped the hem of my dress and I thought I was going insane, letting this happen.
“What did you say you did for a living again?” I asked, suppressing the moan that came to my lips as his fingers found the soaking wet panties between my legs. God, I was happy I wore cute underwear for once.
“I didn’t say,” he said, kissing my neck.
“But what, exactly?”
“Does it matter?” His fingers slid my panties aside and slipped up along my soaking wet spot. I bit my lip to stop from making noise. “It seems like you don’t much care what I do.”
“I’m curious,” I said, and moaned a bit, then held it back. A lady didn’t make noises like that. A lady controlled herself at all times.
“I’ll tell you,” he said, his lips brushing mine as his callused fingers made incredible, gorgeous circles around my clit. “But you have to come for me first.”
I almost melted right then. His fingers kept moving and he bit my bottom lip, then the strap of my dress slipped off my shoulder, and the top of my dress came down as he kissed my breasts, and his belt came off, then I had the thickest, longest cock I’d ever seen in both my hands. He made animal sounds, growling, grunting, the sexiest noises I’d ever heard, and even as my pleasure mounted, surreal and incredible and too intense, I kept control, I had to keep control.
Little gasps, but nothing else. I couldn’t lose myself, even if I was doing something insane. This man was a stranger, and never once, not in my entire life, did I ever let myself do anything remotely like this. I was a good girl, I did what was expected, even if I hated it and rebelled sometimes. It was all I ever knew, but Gian, god, Gian, he made me feel something I didn’t know was there.
He lifted me like I was nothing, this hulking man, and I wrapped my legs around him as he pinned me against the window. His cock slid deep inside as he lowered me down and I gasped and shivered, my head thrown back.
He kissed my neck. “Did you come to this party tonight thinking you’d get fucked by the most handsome man you’d ever seen?” he asked as he began to thrust in and out slowly.
“Yes,” I said, panting, cheeks red. “But unfortunately I had to settle.”
He grinned and bit my lip then fucked me harder. I moaned and let him have me, his hands gripping my ass, feeling flesh that hadn’t been grabbed before. I chewed on my cheek to keep from screaming his name, to keep from making any noise as all, as he ravished me, took me there in the empty lounge at the top of the tower, overlooking all of the city.
He pulled out and let me down, then turned me, pressing me against the glass. It was cold against my breasts, and I pushed back with my palms as he slipped inside from behind me. He leaned over, one hand reaching around to my tease my clit as he fucked me from behind.
“You’re tense,” he whispered, running a hand down my back, then slapped my ass. “You don’t have to be afraid, my hot Ash. I just want to make you feel good.”
“I told you,” I said, and bit back a moan as he filled me deep. “I’m going to be married to another man.”
“Do you love him?” Gian asked.
I looked over my shoulder and shook my head. “No,” I said. “I don’t.”
“Then you don’t have to worry about this,” he said, kissing me. “This can be whatever you want it to be.”
He took me from behind and I groaned, the craziest sound I’d ever made. His fingers did their job, rolling along my clit, and when I nearly came, he turned me again. He caressed my cheek then I licked myself from his fingers before he lifted me again, and he fucked me like that, staring into my eyes. He said my name, growled it again and again, and his thick cock made me wild with pleasure, crazy with need, his muscular arms holding me, gripping my ass, his lips kissing my neck, his teeth biting my lips, and everything driving me wild, god, so wild, until I finally came in a long, incredible, percussive burst of pleasure as he rocked into me, again and again. I still held back, wouldn’t scream, wouldn’t make too much noise, and my skin flushed pink from the exertion.
He growled his delight and kept going, faster and faster, until I felt him finish deep between my legs, deep inside of me with a guttural moan.
I slid down, adjusted my underwear and my dress, and sat on the floor. He put himself away and joined me. I leaned against his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around me, hugging me close.
“Temporary insanity,” I whispered.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“All this,” I said, gesturing at him. “Temporary insanity. That’s what I’ll say, if anyone finds out.”
He laughed softly. “Nobody has to know,” he said, and kissed my hair. “I can keep a secret. Though you’re not a secret I want to keep.”
“Try anyway,” I said, and leaned my head back with a sigh.
I didn’t want to marry Stuart. I didn’t want anything to do with that asshole, with his family, with that life, but I had no other choice. My family would disown me and I didn’t know any other way. I couldn’t make money, not really, not with my silly arts degree from my cute little private women’s college. I was a mess, a complete and total mess, and I’d just slept with a gorgeous, incredible stranger, just had the best and maybe only orgasm of my entire life, and I felt flooded with desire and anger and confusion and dizzy with Gian.
He stood up and stretched. I admired his body as he got himself together, put the tie back on, then the jacket. I got to my feet and adjusted myself, cleaned up in my reflection in the window, and caught him watching with a strange, admiring look in his eyes. I’d never noticed someone look at me like that before.
“What?” I asked, smiling a little.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “You know that? It’s a shame to waste you on that fucking man-child down there.”
I forced a smile and shrugged. “That’s the way life is sometimes.”
He nodded, but didn’t return the smile. He offered me his arm, which I accepted, and we walked back through the empty lounge. He unlocked the door and we went down together, down the elevator, back through the halls, and paused outside of the door that led into the ballroom.
“I never did ask,” I said before I pushed it open. “What do you do for a living again?”
“I work for the Valentino family,” he said, and took a small, off-white business card from his pocket. It said, Giancarlo Rossini, The Fixer, plus his cell number.
“The Fixer?” I asked, smiling a little. “That’s a pretty intense title.”
“Call me if you ever decide to escape your little farce of a marriage,” he said, standing close. I got another whiff of his scent and shivered, remembering the way I nearly screamed as I came on his thick, long cock.
“Maybe one day,” I said, and shoved the door open. I walked away as fast as I could, tearing myself from that man, that stranger, that hulking, incredible beast.
<
br /> I walked as fast as I could toward my life, resigned to my future now, my one last bit of rebellion behind me, over and done with. I’d marry Stuart and find a way to temper his worst impulses. I’d have his children and raise them and become a good lady with good manners and breeding and I’d forget all about that dark, delicious man that fucked me in an empty room at the top of an expensive hotel, that man with the strange job title and the pretty eyes. I’d live my life and maybe think about him from time to time, maybe touch the business card to remind myself that it happened, that for once I let myself lose control, at least a little bit, that I actually felt something real.
I walked toward where my family stood speaking with Stuart’s parents and didn’t look back.
2
Gian
The Ordered Lady was crowded for a Tuesday night. I sat with my back to the wall in a shadowed corner booth. Stefano sipped a gin and tonic and kept looking over his shoulder. He hated when I made him sit facing away from the door, but the poor bastard was my second-in-command, and had to listen to the boss. He was a tall guy, messy brown hair, light blue eyes, real smart and fearless. He’d go far in the family, as soon as he ditched me and got serious.
“You’re quiet tonight,” I said and took a long drink from my whiskey. “Something going down?”
He grunted in response. “The usual shit,” he said. “Healys been making some noise. Word is, they want to press into our territory.”
I nodded and looked at my hands. I knew about that already. The Don warned me that Colm Healy thought I might’ve overstretched myself across South Philly, and that he’d try to take some corners away if I weren’t careful.
“I’m making plans,” I said. “Don’t worry.”
Stefano laughed. “You’re always making plans,” he said.
“Maybe you should try it. I bet you could actually get shit done if you thought for ten seconds.”
“Ah, come on,” he said, shaking his head. “You know me. I’d rather fight than think.”
“And that’s why you’re always getting your ass kicked,” I said.
He laughed because it wasn’t true. Stefano was one of the best fighters in the mafia and wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty, second only to me.
“Seriously though,” he said, leaning with one arm over the back of the booth. “What are we gonna do about them Healys?”
“I’m doubling guards on shipments,” I said. “Keeping street soldiers in pairs. We’ll be fine. If Colm wants to come into my territory, let him.”
“Sometimes I wonder about your sanity,” Stefano said.
I only grinned at him and drank my whiskey.
The war with the Healy family was a slow burn. It looked like things were about to get really hot when one of their top guys got murdered and some infighting caused things to cool off for a while. But the power vacuum was filled, and now the Healys were making noise again.
I welcomed it. The Don wasn’t so sure or happy about how things were going, but I knew my guys. They were getting antsy to push back against some real muscle instead of spending all day selling drugs and sitting around getting rich and happy. Sometimes, the goons had to blow off some steam, and I figured a little street war was the perfect thing.
Of course, peace was better for business. I wasn’t that stupid, and I wasn’t inviting any of this shit, but if the Healys came for me, I’d do what I had to do.
Stefano got up to grab another drink and I scanned the room. It was a dive, one of many in my territory, but a lot of working guys came in here after their shifts to unwind. Tables were packed with men laughing over beers while flatscreens played the Phillies game above the bar. I was bored, and I was tired, and for the past couple of weeks I hadn’t felt like myself. I didn’t know why—I’d never gone into a funk before. I had endless energy and a boundless positive attitude, and I loved my job. I loved breaking knees and slinging drugs and kicking down doors. I loved collecting debts and burning down buildings and dominating my neighborhoods.
And yet things felt off, somehow, and I didn’t know why.
As Stefano leaned in up at the bar to chat with some blonde drunk local girls, my phone rang. It was an unknown number and I frowned at it for a second before answering.
“Gian,” I said.
There was a short pause. I was about to hang up when the voice on the other end stopped me.
“I didn’t want to call,” she said.
And then it came back. Ash from that retirement party.
It was definitely her. I’d been dreaming about that voice ever since I had her up in that empty lounge. Small girl, big green eyes, luscious lips, thick, black hair piled high on her head, curves for miles. She was tight and petite and perfect, but she walked like she had a rod down her spine, and she looked around like she owned the world.
A rich girl with a rich girl’s problems.
I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again, but I hoped I would. I hadn’t felt like that with a woman in a long time, and one taste wasn’t enough for me. But I knew better than to fuck with that world.
She was on a whole different level.
I knew her family. The Adamsons were notorious in Philly for being massively wealthy and connected at all levels. They had friends and family in the government, friends and family in business, and friends and family in consulting. They ran a hedge fund that minted money, and she was practically royalty.
Queen Ash. Hot Ash. The best sex I’d ever had.
Untouchable Ash.
“What can I do for you, Ash?” I asked softly, unable to keep the smile from my face. Up at the bar, something Stefano said made the girls laugh. Charming bastard.
“We need to meet,” she said.
I chuckled and pictured her face, straining to keep control while I fucked her. It was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever witnessed.
“I thought you said we’d never do that again?” I asked.
She sounded tired. “Not for that,” she said. “Something else. It’s important. Please, Gian.”
I sat up straight. “Are you okay?” I asked, and thought of that skinny, preppy fuck. He had the audacity to grab her arm and hurt her right there in a crowded room, and nobody did shit about it because he’s rich and powerful, and she’s rich and powerful, and all those fucking dicks were scared of them. It was pathetic, and I wanted to rip his skull off.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I mean, I’m sort of fine. Can we just meet, please?”
“Come to my place,” I said.
A short pause. “It’s not for that,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “But it’s safe. I promise, I won’t come on to you.”
Another pause. But then: “Okay, text me the address. I’ll be there soon.”
Then she hung up. She must’ve been desperate if she agreed to come to my house and I felt a spike of uncertainty.
I shouldn’t get mixed up with an Adamson daughter. Ash was hot, smoking hot, and way out of my league. That whole world was on another level, and although I had some sway and power within the Valentino family, those aristocratic bastards were well beyond me. Getting mixed up with them could be a serious problem.
And yet she’d sounded scared, and I wasn’t the kind of man to turn my back on a woman that needed my help.
Especially not a woman like Ash.
I got up and texted her number my address. I had a townhouse in South Philly in a quiet neighborhood at the edge of my territory. I caught Stefano’s eye and waved to him.
“Where the fuck you going?” he called out. “I made friends.”
The two girls smiled and waved.
I shook my head and walked off. I didn’t have time for his shit or his girls.
I drove back home as fast as I could, but it wasn’t fast enough. When I got out of my truck, I spotted her already sitting on my stoop. She must’ve been in the city when she called.
She wore tight, black jeans and a flowing white blouse. Her hair was up again and sm
all stray wisps were pushed over her tiny, shapely ears. She bit her lip as I approached, hands in my pockets, head tilted to one side. Everything about her screamed money—the way she sat, the clothes she wore, even the way she looked around like she could buy the place if she wanted.
“You’re here,” I said. “Got to admit, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t plan on this.” She chewed her lip and crossed her arms like she was hugging herself. “Can we go inside?”
“Of course,” I said, and walked past her. My arm brushed her shoulder and I was instantly transported back to that moment, her hands on my cock, her lips on my own. She shivered a little and stepped away.
She was thinking about it too.
I opened the door and let her inside. My living room was small but cozy, with a big leather couch and a TV. My decor was simple and spartan, with good furniture and a few framed and signed sports pictures. She drifted toward the kitchen, arms still hugging herself as she looked at my things and seemed unable to meet my eye.
“You want a drink?” I asked, thinking she’d need something to loosen up.
“Yes,” she said, then quickly, “but no, sorry, I can’t.”
“All right,” I said and faced her, hands spread. I leaned against my dining room table. “What can I do for you, Ash?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m in trouble,” she said.
“Is it Stuart?” I asked, my eyes blazing with anger. “I can help with that. If you need somewhere to stay—”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, then bit her lip hard. “Fuck, Gian. I didn’t want this to happen.”
“You’ve got to give me some clue here,” I said softly, stepping closer. I want to pull her against me so badly.
But she drifted away. “This was supposed to be a one-time thing, right? I know you probably don’t understand, but I was going to marry him and make things right, and now everything’s fucked.”
