by Tessa Thorne
I cross my arms over my chest. I'm feeling defensive, and I don't like it. He reaches out and takes one of my hands in his. “A girl like you should belong to someone worthy.” He brings my hand to his mouth and presses his lips against my fingers. His kiss sends a jolt of energy coursing through my body. “I want to put my collar around your neck. Make you my pet.”
“And what makes you think I want to be your pet?” My voice is thick with sarcasm, but my body loves everything he's saying.
“How long has it been since you’ve had a proper fuck?” he asks.
I yank my hand back from his. “Is this really how you sweet-talk girls you want to sleep with?”
“There’s nothing sweet about the way I talk, princess.” That word makes me jolt upright in my seat. “I asked you two simple questions, and you haven’t given me an answer to either,” he says.
“Fine. I haven’t had sex in over a year.” I keep my voice low, afraid that even the elderly couple will feel bad for me.
“I didn’t ask how long it’s been since you had sex.” That arrogant smirk returns to his face. “I asked you how long it’s been since you had a proper fuck.”
He takes my hand again and gives it another kiss, making my heart pound in my chest. “How long has it been since you were fucked so good you didn’t care who heard you scream?”
He turns my hand over and kisses the inside of my wrist. I can feel my pulse racing against his soft lips. “How long has it been since you were with a man who made you beg to stick his cock in your pussy?”
I shift in my seat and slowly cross my legs. I can feel my honey starting to drip between my lips. I should be getting up to leave. I’ve never been willing to let myself be treated like this by anyone. But why do I feel like I’m rooted to my seat?
He kisses his way up the inside of my arm. “How long has it been since you were with a man who wasn’t afraid to ask you for what he wants?”
“And what do you want from me?” My voice comes out hoarse with desire. I can see the look of victory on his face. He knows he has me.
“I told you when we first met in Hush.” He kisses the inside of my elbow. I breath in deeply, savoring the feeling of his lips on my skin. “I know you remember.”
He puts his hand lightly on my knee and his fingers slowly travel up my thigh.
“Tell me what I said to you,” he prompts.
His touch is like fire on my skin. I part my legs and he takes the invitation to stroke my inner thigh until his fingers just graze the hem of my romper.
“You said you were going to fuck me.” My voice is barely a whisper.
His fingers slip past my hem and brush against the edge of my panties. I shudder as I look up into his hungry eyes and lean against his strong arm.
His thumb brushes across the fabric between my legs and I involuntarily lift my hips to better feel his touch, but he pulls back, teasing me. “Tell me what I said. All of it.”
I cast a furtive glance at the elderly couple in the other booth. Are they looking at us? Can they tell what he’s doing? Another brush of his finger against the fabric sitting on top of my clit makes me forget all about them. “You said you’re going to tear my clothes off, lick my pussy until I beg for your cock, and then you’ll fuck me so hard I’ll never be satisfied with another man again,” I say.
I close my eyes and part my lips as he runs his thumb down the length of my pussy. Marcello’s voice suddenly jolts me out of the sensual fog. “One penne alla vodka for the gentleman, and a house salad for the lady.” He places the plates down on the table without showing any sign that he’s aware of Gio’s thumb slowly rubbing my pussy under the table.
“Thank you, Marcello.” Gio just barely presses his thumb into my pussy, pushing my panties between my lips. I can feel my wetness starting to soak through the thin fabric. “That smells amazing.”
“You’re too kind, Gio.” Marcello nods at him, and then at me. “Enjoy your meal.”
With Marcello gone, Gio pulls his hand away and takes up his utensils. I feel like I’m in a haze, my pussy swollen with desire. He slides my plate closer to me. “Eat up.”
I bite my lip. I would be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want to beg for his cock. A part of me wants him to tear these clothes off of me, throw me on the table and stick his dick deep inside me. But I can’t do that. Not even for a walking sex god like him. If he wants me, he’s going to have to treat me like I deserve.
I pick up my fork and eat my delicious salad.
The back door slams shut loudly behind me. I tug on the bottom of my romper, self-conscious once again, and head toward the stairway leading up to my office. I felt like everyone was watching me the whole way back. I checked in the mirror at Marcello’s before I left, and I know the damp spot on my crotch isn’t that noticeable, but I felt like everyone I passed noticed and judged me for it.
What surprised me was the thrill I got from that feeling. But having strangers see me like that is completely different than Rizzo or Marco noticing and reporting back to my parents.
“Hey Alessandra.” It’s Marco. He looks behind me as if to check if someone followed me in, then eyes me thoughtfully. “Where have you been?”
I smile and cross my ankles awkwardly. “I was out getting lunch with a friend from school. Is Rizzo out?” Was he the one that was following me?
“He left on some business.” His smile is forced. He’s never been the best actor. “The sound techs finished a little while ago, so everything’s all set for tonight.”
“Great.” I grab the railing and start climbing the stairs. Rizzo must have been the one following me. Why else would Marco be acting so strange? “Thanks a lot, Marco.”
I tug again on my bottoms as I head up the stairs. I really wish Marco hadn’t seen me in this outfit. I can feel his eyes following me.
The sound of me unlocking the door startles Sarah awake. I’m surprised to find the office locked, but Sarah didn’t grow up in a house where locks on doors were forbidden. She slowly sits up on the couch and I plop down onto the soft cushion next to her.
My hand brushes against the dimples pressed into the soft leather by her heels. She never takes off her shoes when she lies down on my couch. But I don’t mention it. I know she forgot I asked her not to do that. She just has no idea what things are worth.
“So, spill.” She covers a big yawn with the back of her hand. “Did you two fuck in the bathroom?”
“No! Of course not!” She actually sounds serious. I can’t get mad though. After what we did the first time we were together, it’s not much of a stretch to think we might have fucked in the bathroom.
“Why the hell not? If I was in your shoes, I’d have at least gotten a fingerbang out of him.”
“Stop.” I can feel my face heating up. “I’m not a slut!” I did let him feel me up under the table though. I can’t believe I did that.
She looks at me incredulously and her mouth slowly splits into a wide grin. “Oh. My. God. He did do something. I can see it on your face.”
My face must be flaming red right now.
“What did you do?” She grabs my hand. “You have to tell me. And there’s nothing wrong with being a slut. Why else would you have me as a friend?”
I look at her, trying to decide how much to tell her. What happened at the restaurant wasn’t any worse than what happened here. And I know she’ll never judge me for it.
“Okay, fine.” I pause, not quite sure what to say. Might as well just get to the dirty details. I know what she’s looking for, and it’s not a detailed description of our lunch. “We went to an Italian restaurant nearby…and…he may have felt me up under the booth.”
“You slut!” She wraps me up in a strong hug. “I’m so proud of you!” She pulls back to regard me and smiles. “The student has become the master!”
“I don’t know about that,” I say. “I don’t think I’ll ever top your stories.”
“Thanks! That means a lot.” She’s actuall
y being honest. She knows who she is, and she isn’t ashamed of it. That’s why I love her. “So where did you two leave off? Are you going to go on another date?” she asks.
“Not exactly.” I take my burner out of my purse and check it just in case I missed a text from him. Nothing.
“What do you mean by that?” she asks.
“He…uh…” My face blushes furiously once again. “He told me he’d come find me here tonight and make me beg for his cock.”
“Holy shit!” Her voice reaches the pitch of a preteen and she slaps me on the thigh. “Good for you. You best beg for that cock, ‘cause let me tell you, men like him don’t come around very often. You gotta get that dick while the gettin’ is good.”
“I don’t know.” I look down. “We’ll see what happens. I can’t stay out late again. My mom’s already suspicious after I showed up so late on Wednesday night.” Not like my mom ever remembers my schedule, but I couldn't use inventory as an excuse for why I was later than I said I'd be. Gio was worth it though.
“Your parents are a real trip.” She shakes her head sadly, then laughs. “Remember when she showed up to school the first night and insisted on cooking lasagna in the suite kitchen?”
“Yeah.” I laugh softly. “And then she ordered a whole kitchen set when she realized no one had bothered bringing any dishes or cookware.”
“I know I joke about your parents a lot.” She touches my cheek softly. “But they really love you, and they think they’re doing what’s best for you.”
“I know.” I look up and smile at her. “It’s just hard.”
“Not as hard as that dick’s gonna be!” Her laugh breaks through the momentary sadness. “No matter how well they mean, you can’t let your parents control your life. So you better get it.”
She looks at her watch and jumps up from the couch. “As much as I want to stay and keep you on course to Orgasmia, I have to head out to my own hot date.”
“Michael?” I can never keep her boyfriends straight.
“No, he got weird after I told him I didn’t want to move in with him.” She goes through them faster than she goes through shoes. “This is Thomas. That cute bartender from Gin Palace?”
“Oh, yeah. I remember him. He’s cute.” I stand up from the couch and give Sarah a hug. “Thanks for always having my back.”
“You know it, girl.” She gives me a European kiss on the cheeks and waves goodbye. “Just make sure to beg for that cock!”
Chapter Six
Giovanni
My pulse is still racing as I quickly walk from the closest parking lot to Hush. My hands are still sore from taking Rizzo apart piece by piece. It’s a good soreness though. Like the kind you get after a hard day’s work, the kind that comes with a sense of accomplishment.
Rizzo was a dumb fucking kid. Someone should have told him he wasn’t cut out for the Mafia life. He was crying like a baby before I started with him, and shit his pants before I was through. I shake my head. It was a fucking disgrace. But he confirmed what Tommy said. Don Pavoni ordered the hit on my family.
A taxi honks as I cross the street, but he stops as soon as I lock eyes with him. Today’s not the day to fuck with me. The Don took my family from me, and now I’m going to take his. He’s going to regret every decision that led to this moment.
I’m going to take his familia apart one by one. From his soldiers, to his made men. The captains will come next. Then I’m going to take his family from him. And finally, I’ll take his life, but not before he knows why. I want to see the look of utter despair in his eyes as he realizes this is all his fault. I owe my family that much at least.
I count the security working the doors at Hush. Four guys in staff t-shirts, plus one guy in a plain t-shirt supervising them. No wise guys. I let a little smile grow on my face. They must have heard what happened to Rizzo. The Pavonis just lost two soldiers in four days. I can picture the furious look on Don Pavoni’s face as he orders his men to scour the streets to find out who’s responsible. Maybe he thinks it’s the Russians. Or even better, another one of the Five Families.
I walk past the thick line of ordinary people queuing to get into Hush and catch the eye of one of the bouncers working security at the door. He’s the same bearded, biker-looking guy from Wednesday night. His smile tells me he remembers me as I shake his hand, passing him another Benjamin. I pat him on the back like we’re old friends and walk through the doors into a world of dazzling lights, loud music and sweaty bodies.
Hush was crowded on a weeknight, but they must be breaking the fire code tonight. There’s barely enough room to move. I push my way through the crowd. As I make my way through the throng of people on the dance floor, a guy cusses at me as his drink spills. I nudged him, and now he's getting all aggro. I give him an apologetic smile and shrug, mouthing my apology. Normally I wouldn't give a fuck, but I can't draw any unnecessary attention to myself. I'm here for one reason only, and I can't afford to get kicked out for beating this guy's ass. He gives me a final dirty look before looking away. I continue making my way over to where I think Alessandra should be.
Every bit of logic left in me tells me to turn around and wait out the night at a safe house. But I ignored that same voice when it told me not to tell Alessandra my real name. I ignored it again when I gave her one of my phone numbers. I have multiple identities so solid that any of them could pass an FBI background check. But I didn’t give her any of those names. I gave her a name I haven’t used for years, and I still don’t know why.
I push my way to the front of the bar and I see her seat is taken by a rail-thin blonde in a silver dress. I scan the top of the crowd trying to spot her lush black hair, but I don’t see her.
There’s no way she isn’t here. Not after I had her squirming under my thumb at Marcello’s. She’s going to beg for my cock tonight, because that’s the only way I’ll let her have it. And then hopefully I can put aside this distraction and finish my mission.
A tall redhead squeezes next to me at the bar, looks up at me and bites her lip. “Oh, wow. How tall are you?” Her words are slurred. I’d guess she’s three drinks deep.
“Not interested.” I ignore her angry frown and push my way to the railing around the dance floor, looking for the only woman in the city worth pursuing. In my line of work, I’m never in one place for long, and I rarely keep the same name for more than a month at a time. It’s easy to find a girl for a fuck, give her a night she'll never forget, and move onto the next without a second thought.
It’s always been easy to move on. But not with her. I want her to be mine. As much as I know she’s distracting me from what I came here to do, I can’t keep her out of my thoughts.
I lean against the copper railing and scan the crowd. There’s a couple grinding to the music next to me. The tempo of the music is rising, reaching climax. It must be the last song of the DJ’s set. I won’t miss him. His set was solid, but nothing you’d remember the next morning. I don’t see any of Don Pavoni’s men inside either. I smirk. This is going better than I planned.
They're all out on the streets looking for whoever killed Tommy and Rizzo. Hunting down and killing Mafiosi is a nice change after eight years of going after domestic terrorists. They're so much more predictable than the psycho suicide bombers I'm used to.
My heart hammers against my chest when I find Alessandra. She’s climbing the stairs to the DJ booth that's suspended by metal cables high above the dance floor.
The DJ’s set comes to an end, and a skinny guy covered in tattoos climbs up into the booth after her. I watch her embrace him and give him a kiss on the cheek. He must be the DJ playing the next set.
I vault the railing, eliciting a yelp from the horny couple next to me and land in a small empty spot on the dance floor. I press my way through the dancers as the new DJ begins his set. With fresh drinks in hand, and molly and coke in their eyes, the club-goers begin to pack the dance floor again. I reach the opposite end of the dance floor just as Alessandr
a reaches the bottom of the steps. I step out of the dance floor to put myself into her path as she heads back to her usual seat.
She gasps in surprise as she nearly runs into me and finds herself pressed against my chest. I grin down at her as we lock eyes. God, she’s beautiful. My voice of reason has gone silent. All that’s left is the voice telling me I need to make her mine.
“I didn’t expect to see you here this early.” She keeps her hands on my chest for a moment before letting them slide off slowly.
I didn’t expect it either.
“But here I am.” I put my hand on her hip and draw her in closer to me. “Let me buy you a drink.”
I watch her eyes darting around, trying to see if there’s anyone watching. I squeeze her hip and clench my other hand into a fist. I can’t stand that there’s someone else controlling her. Tonight, I'm taking her leash.
“I didn't see any wise guys here tonight.” I grin as her eyes go wide.
“What do you mean ‘wise guys’?” She’s not a very good liar.
“I mean the guys in the cheap pinstripe suits that are always keeping an eye on you.”
She leans back from me a bit and looks away. I pull her back in until her soft curves press against me, then lift her chin with a finger to bring her eyes back to mine. “I mean to have you beg for my cock tonight, and there’s no one here to hold you back.”
She looks at me, and I see desire battling fear within her eyes. “Who are you?” she whispers.
My mouth presses against hers. She gasps as I lick her lips, and I feel her breasts pressing against my chest. My tongue slips into her mouth, twisting against hers as I squeeze her soft hips. I break our kiss just as her body begins to respond, pulling on her bottom lip with my teeth.
“There’s only one way to find out.” I take her hand and lead the way to the bar. I order myself three fingers of Eagle Rare Reserve and a glass of Don Julio’s for her.
