Dirty Debt: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by Teagan Kade

  Max checks the dash. “We’ve got plenty of gas.”

  “Just do it.”

  “Why, what do you need?”

  I look at him deadpan. “Mouthwash. All the mouthwash.”

  Chapter 11

  Max

  I still can’t get over it, but I try to stifle laughter as I lean up against the Camino around the back of the gas station.

  Dawn’s gargling mouthwash, spitting it daintily into the spindly desert bushes, repeating. She’s been at it for almost five minutes.

  “Maybe drain cleaner would do a better job,” I offer.

  She swipes the beer from my hand and begins to chug it down, mouthwash still in one hand. She wipes her mouth. “You were saying?” She goes to hand the beer back, but I push it back to her. “Keep it.”

  She sticks her tongue out, scraping it with her finger again. “It’s like there’s a damn dumpster in my mouth.”

  “Hey,” I start. “At least you made Dave’s day. I bet he hasn’t been frenched like that since the fifth grade.”

  Dawn leans over and looks like she might puke. She holds the side of the car for support. “Given his technique, I don’t think Dave’s done a lot of kissing lately.”

  “You think he kisses his mother with that mouth?”

  Dawn retches.

  I can’t stop laughing.

  “Now you’re just playing,” she says.

  “Am not.”

  “Am too.”

  “You could always kiss me, you know.”

  She looks up. “For being such an asshole? No thanks.”

  “Asshole?” I repeat. “You’re bringing out the big guns now, huh? What’s next? Are you going to say the K word?”

  She looks puzzled. “The K word?”

  I pucker my lips again. “Kiss me, beautiful.”

  She stands, placing the beer and mouthwash on top of the car, poking me in the chest. “Watch it, buddy. You might be some big, bad tough guy, but I’m no pushover.”

  “Could have fooled me.” It’s adorable seeing her defensive like this. I have a mind to bend her over the hood and pound her senseless, see if that ass is as tight as it looks, but I doubt she’d be open to it right now.

  “You done?”

  I salute. “Let’s go, sweetheart. Maybe you can use those lucky lips of yours on Bobby.”

  But even as I say it, even as I joke, I can’t help the feelings of jealousy that swirl in my head. I’d do anything to have her lips on mine, on my chest, my cock. Given that, Donut King back there at the impound yard’s doing a lot better than I am.

  “Should we check the trunk?” Dawn suggests as we roll up to the Wild Horse again.

  I shake my head. “Not a good idea. Ignorance is bliss and all that.”

  “Just a peek?”

  I open the driver’s door. “In and out, remember?”

  This time Bobby’s waiting for us in his office upstairs.

  Unlike the counting room downstairs, his office is well-furnished and expansive. There’s even a family portrait on the wall, two small boys smiling back at me. I wonder what it’s like having a crime lord for a father.

  At least they have one.

  I think about Lucy, Saul’s daughter, the pop star in the making. She’s got the voice, that’s for sure, but I wonder if she knows what her daddy gets up to behind closed doors, what exactly funds her monster wardrobe of designer clothes and luxurious lifestyle. Perhaps it’s better she stays ignorant to it all.

  Bobby remains seated, motioning us forward.

  He leans across his desk to scrutinize me. “I see you met Dale.”

  “And Dale met my fist,” I reply.

  Bobby narrows his eyes. “Did you kill him? Because if you did our little deal is off the table. Dead men and debts don’t do well together.”

  I can see the way Bobby asks it, so nonchalantly, scares Dawn. He’s a man with such small concern for human life.

  What does it say about me that it doesn’t even register on my radar?

  I bring my shoulders back. “That’s not how I do things.”

  Bobby laughs. “That’s how Saul does things, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe,” I continue. “But rest assured I left Dale sore, but alive, fully able to pay back his debt. Judging by the welcome we received, I don’t think he’ll be the only one jumping to line your pockets.”

  Another crocodile smile. Bobby nods, looking Dawn over. “Good. Very good, and the car?”

  “Parked downstairs,” I say.

  Bobby looks to Dawn. “Did you look in the trunk?”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  He smiles again. “Good. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t have to be witness to that kind of thing.”

  My stomach knots. I want to break this guy.

  Keep calm, I tell myself. This will all be over soon.

  Bobby swipes a snow globe off his desk, shaking it as he comes around to the front of his desk. Closer, I see there’s a scene from Scarface inside it, Tony Montana with gun raised, feet in a pool of blood, snow whirling around him. Where the hell do you even get something like that? He throws it up and catches it. “I once put a hole in someone’s head with this thing—crushed their skull like an egg shell. Good times.” He places the snow globe back down. “You know, Max, I could use your kind of muscle. If you’re ever looking for a change of—”

  “Not interested.”

  Bobby turns his attention to Dawn. “And you, baby doll. Ass and face like yours could make a lot of money in the right place.”

  The knot tightens further. I’m seeing fucking red again. It’s blotting out reason. “She’s not interested either.”

  “I’m sure the lady can speak for herself.”

  Dawn simply shakes her head, eyes downcast.

  Bobby throws his hands up, returning to his chair and leaning back. “You’ve been given a reprieve, my friend. Your fight’s been moved to tomorrow.”

  Thank fuck for that. Fighting in my current state was going to be an issue. At least now I’ll have a chance to recover somewhat.

  Externally, I remain unmoved.

  “But,” continues Bobby ominously. “You’re going up against O’Neil.”

  “Kurt O’Neil?” I say.

  Bobby nods slowly. “You know him?”

  “I’ve heard of him.”

  “Good, so you know he’s no fucking pushover. You know they’ve measured his punches at 1500psi? That is a fucking punch.”

  “We’ll see,” comes my stony reply.

  Bobby laughs, clapping his hands together. “Oh, I like you. Don’t make me mop you up in the morning.”

  I flick my head at Dawn. “Let’s go.”

  I hear something land on the desk. We both turn.

  Bobby’s placed two towering stacks of casino chips there. He tosses two room cards onto the pile. “For your trouble. Hang around. Stay. Have a little fun. It’s fucking Vegas.”

  I don’t move.

  Bobby waves Dawn forward. “Take them, sweetheart.”

  Dawn takes the chips and cards cautiously, following me out.

  When we’re back in the main foyer, she goes to hand me half the chips, but I push them back. “No, you take them.”

  She looks down at the chips in her hands. “Should I even use these? A guy like that doesn’t just give away money, does he?”

  I smile. “Haven’t you heard the saying ‘the house always wins’?”

  Dawn winks. “We’ll see about that.”

  What harm could it do? “Take them. Have some fun, but know when to stop. You don’t want to owe a guy like Bobby.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  I look to the side. “I’ve got a personal matter to deal with. I should only be a couple of hours.”

  “A personal matter?”

  “I’m going to see my father.”

  The surprise is clear on her face. “He’s here, in Vegas?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You used to l
ive here, in Vegas.”

  “Once upon a time.”

  I don’t want to elaborate further, and she doesn’t push. She reaches out and takes my hand.

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  I squeeze her hand. “You’ll be fine as long as you’re here,” he says. “Bobby’s a fucking scumbag, but he’s an honorable one. He wouldn’t dare touch Saul’s property.”

  “I’m not the property of anyone.”

  “You sure about that? Stay here, use the chips.” I reach into my pocket and hand her a fistful of crumpled notes. “In case you need a drink. I sure as hell could go for one.”

  I go to walk away, our hands separating. I feel the loss deep in my gut. I was enjoying the contact far more than I should. I wanted more—a lot more. I can’t deny I haven’t thought about it, about what being with a girl like Dawn would be like, but what then? What about the ever-after? I don’t know if I’m even capable of settling down. I don’t know if I could ever truly keep her safe. It would be best if she stayed away—far away.

  I leave these thoughts behind and go again to leave.

  Once more, Dawn asks me to stay, reaching out to grip my arm. She holds up the room cards. “At least have a quick look at the room.”

  Leave, but possibility beckons and try as I might I can’t resist the temptation. “Ten minutes,” I tell her. “That’s all.”

  Chapter 12

  Dawn

  It turns out the room cards are for one of the penthouse suites on the sixth floor. The casino itself is as gaudy as it gets, but I lap it up all the same.

  A bellboy guides us in. “Welcome to the Emperor Suite.”

  Max tips him and sends him on his way, looking awfully pleased to close the door and shut the world out.

  I step into the main lounge and spin, eyes wide. “The Emperor Suite. That sounds familiar?”

  Max leans against the wall. “You’re thinking of the Emperor Suite at Caesar’s Palace, the one the movie The Hangover was based on.”

  I clap my hands together. “I love that movie.” I pause. “Wait, does that mean there’s a tiger in the bathroom?”

  He pushes off the wall, walking towards me. “The only animals you need to worry about here are downstairs.”

  He’s standing right before me, so close. His amber eyes lure me in, beg me to drink from the forbidden cup, and I do with every flush nerve of my body. Here, before me, is the most striking man I have known, a man who has already proved how far he will go to protect me.

  My nostrils flare, my breathing deepening and not a word passes between us.

  My body dares me to act.

  But it’s Max who makes the first move, closing the distance between us fast and taking my head in his hands, pulling me into the kiss.

  Max’s hands are rough, but the kiss is surprisingly tender. There is an understated urgency to it, a thirst unlike any I have felt before.

  I pull myself away breathless, the smooth, liquor taste of his lips lingering on my own.

  I look up into his eyes. “What do you want? Tell me.”

  He’s breathing heavily too, but when he speaks it’s firm and unyielding—an order.

  “I want you to lie down and spread your legs.”

  He speaks to me as if I’m a child, but I nod all the same. I need the release, a junkie hungering for a fix. Logic doesn’t even enter into the equation. It’s been too long since I was with a man. The need wells up, the space between my legs growing hot and heavy.

  You can forget what’s happening, I tell myself. If only for a moment. You can be safe in his arms.

  He stands away and takes hold of the hem of my dress, lifting it up and over my head, the fabric momentarily catches on the hard pinpoints of my nipples.

  He kneels, fingers gliding up the side of my leg, over my thigh, hooking into the crotch of my panties and pulling them down. He unhooks them off my ankle, holding it in his hand like it was made of glass, worshipping it. I can smell my arousal, the wetness that’s already gathering at my core.

  Slowly, he lifts me, guides us to the nearest bedroom and lets me down as if conducting a baptism. There, exposed, I am comatose in his arms.

  His thumb presses against my inner thigh. I gasp for air as my nerves there light up all the way to the tips of my fingers.

  He kneels up onto the bed and pulls his shirt off, tossing it to the floor as his head sinks between my legs.

  I claw my fingers into the sheets as his mouth presses against the hot opening of my sex. His tongue shifts forward, burrowing deep inside my slit. I melt against his face, mewing and rolling. He holds my thigh in one hand, thumb pressing into the soft flesh there again. I smile, cry, and giggle—hysterical with emotion as his other hand finds its way to my clit.

  My upper back bows. The flat of his thumb covers the sensitive button at the top of my sex, rubbing and pressing until I’m levitating from the sheets.

  I speak only in expletive gasps. Ah. Ah. Ah.

  He cups my ass with both hands, drawing me into him, trying to meld us together as one. I’m split so wide and wet his tongue seems to travel right through me.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  His hands slide underneath my back and come to rest just below my shoulder blades. He lifts me from the bed and I wrap my legs around him.

  Our mouths come together, tongues fighting for dominance in the small space.

  I work my hand between us and find his zipper. I draw it down and fish inside, my fingers curling around his cock. It pulses, twitching in my hand, hot and full. I delight in the soft, silky skin of his shaft, the way the head of his cock conforms so snugly into the cup of my palm.

  He drives his hips forward, pressing himself through my grip as our mouths remain locked together. He thrusts through my fingers slowly as I curl them around his length. Above, my pussy tics with agonizing need. My wetness coats my thighs, a sticky, slick mess as I try to spread my legs wider and ease myself down upon him.

  He moves us to the side of the bed, reaching with one hand to his back pocket and pulling his wallet free, sheathing himself quickly while holding me in place.

  I grind against him, anxious to feel him inside me.

  The head of his cock comes to rest against the soaking slot of my sex.

  He comforts my tongue with his own, his lips soft and pliant. I stroke my tongue against his, tempting him to taste and suck it in return.

  His erection, hard and thick, waits at my entrance, growing. He lets me down upon it as a wave of relief and release rushes through me from the base of my skull right down to my groin. My hips drop and he runs in to the hilt, filling me with his giant cock.

  I press my pelvis forward, rocking on his member as his hand skims over my back, the measure of my desire making his progress easy.

  He draws back and enters me slowly. My eyes are open, locked upon his as he penetrates me with a terrible calm. I lock my hands around his neck and run them through his hair, clawing along his scalp and tugging as he begins to fuck me. His hands shift my ass forward and he thrusts even deeper into the tight, slick ache that closes around him.

  We grow greedier and increasingly frantic, our movements becoming primal and unrestrained. I begin to shudder as the friction against my clit becomes unbearable. I arch my body off his, our flesh sticky and wet where it slaps and meets together below.

  This is happening, I realize. It’s all been leading to this.

  I come quick and hard, tears blurring my vision, my emotion and sex spilling over. I let my breath out in a rickety exhale as it consumes me. He thrusts through it with increasing violence, pounding through the contractions of my pussy. He gasps, mouth agape, as he hilts himself inside me, his hands tight on my ass. He stills and erupts. I squeeze him fiercely, clenching and releasing around his cock until his spasms of pleasure subside and we collapse backwards onto the bed.

  He crushes me, his face pressed into the crook of my neck as we groan the last of our orgasms away.

  He lifts
himself up and kisses the tip of one of my nipples. I inhale sharply.

  The whiskey orbs of his eyes settle on my face. “I’ve broken my golden rule.”

  My lips are dry. “What’s that?”

  “Mixing business and pleasure.”

  I trace my finger over the tattoo running down his arm. “Why can’t you have both?”

  “Because they are two worlds that should never collide, especially in my line of work.”

  He drops to kiss the side of my neck, tongue flicking at an earlobe.

  “If you ask me,” I continue, aftershocks of my orgasm continuing to filter through my body. “Your profession is built around breaking rules.”

  He pulls the earlobe between his lips, sucking it away before letting it free. “Amongst other things.”

  His cock is still hard inside me when he spots the digital clock beside the bed. Drawing back, his cock comes free. “I should go, but we should pick this up later?”

  I hold his arm, unable to close my fingers around it. “I thought that was breaking the rules?”

  He reaches down and pushes a finger inside me, curling it upwards until the pad of it presses against my g-spot. My head kicks back involuntarily. I’m putty in his hands.

  “Some rules are meant to be broken,” he says, pulling the finger away. He places it into his mouth, sucking it clean.

  It’s almost enough to make me come again.

  I drag myself into a sitting position, folding a leg under myself, surprised at how sensitive and tender I am down there.

  I can see Max hesitating, but he manages to ward it off, taking off the condom and stuffing his still-hard cock back into his pants. “I shouldn’t be long, but if you’re still compelled to use those chips, be careful, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “Stay in the casino and relax, because when I get back I’m going to fuck you through the goddamn wall.”

  He leans down and kisses me on the forehead.

  I watch him leave the room, my eyes following him to the hallway where he’s suddenly engulfed in light beaming down from the giant void above.

  I reach for a stack of chips, tossing them lightly in my hand, and I’m smiling. I’m smiling like I’ve already won a million dollars.