Married to the Bad Boy

by Vanessa Waltz

  Tommy’s bar is the perfect place to do this. There are wise guys everywhere, and news will spread fast.

  I’m already attracting looks from the other guys for keeping to myself and not saying a damn word to anyone. My eyes stare straight ahead into the blackboard list of beers on tap, ignoring Genevieve, who whispers something into Tommy’s ear. I feel his stare, even if I can’t really see it.

  Tommy’s not buying my act, but Francois and Johnny openly gawk at me from across the bar, giving me odd looks.

  “Qu’est-ce qui se passe avec lui?” What’s wrong with him?

  My captain, Francois, shrugs. I make a show of burying my face in my hands and rubbing my head. My shoulders slump and I bury my fingers in my hair, fighting to keep the laughter shaking in my chest inside me.

  “I’ll go ask,” I hear him say.

  I try not to smile as I hear his footsteps growing louder, and then a heavy hand drops on my shoulders and shakes me roughly.

  “Tony, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t want to fucking talk about it.”

  I can almost see the surprise on his lined face. Nothing really ever gets me down, and seeing me like this must be unnerving.

  Hopefully I’m not overdoing it.

  “Jesus. What happened?”

  Slowly I raise my head from my hands and look into his concerned face. “I got a girl pregnant.”

  The words explode in the middle of the bar, and they pretend to have not heard what I just said even though everyone’s standing unnaturally still. There’s no excitement. No cheers. They all know it’s my worst nightmare. Men freeze with glasses in their hands as they stare at me with expressions of amusement and pity.

  “Congratulations!” Francois pounds my back, laughter trembling in his voice.

  I send him a heated look. “I don’t fucking see what there is to celebrate. My life is basically over and I barely know this broad.”

  “Don’t be such an asshole,” Johnny snaps. “A child is a gift from God—a fuckin’ gift. You better do right by this girl, Tony. I’m serious.”

  I straighten myself and peer into the depths of my glass. “Yeah, yeah. I guess we have to get married. Fuck.”

  The bar explodes into cheers, and Francois flings an arm around my neck. “I can’t fucking believe this. You’re getting married? Holy shit—”

  Johnny gives me an approving nod. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Yeah, well—that doesn’t mean I’m going to fucking change for her.”

  The young boss beams at me, and he bumps his glass against my empty one. “Salute, Tony. I’m happy for you.”

  “That makes one of us.”

  My stomach clenches as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a hug.

  “I want to meet this girl. We should have an engagement party this weekend.”

  I look into Johnny’s smiling face. “You already know her. She’s Jack Vittorio’s daughter.”

  His face goes slack as the men scream with laughter.

  “He knocked up a boss’s daughter!”

  “Good thing Jack is dead, eh, buddy?”

  I ignore the elbows digging into my side, the hands clapping down my shoulder, the insidious laughter erupting around me and gaze into Johnny’s furious face.

  “You fucking moron, Tony. You fucking dumb piece of shit.” He slams his drink on the counter and grabs my lapels, shoving me against the bar. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  I have at least fifty pounds on Johnny, but I don’t lift a finger against him. To do so would be suicide, even though it would be satisfying—so fucking satisfying.

  “No one was ever going to find out.”

  His face contorts with rage and the laughter dissipates from the bar. “You realize, you stupid fuck, that her ex now has a legitimate beef with us? You fucked his girl.”

  “A girl who didn’t want to be his in the first place.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “She’s carrying my kid,” I say in a cold voice. “That’s all that matters. We’re getting married, and that’s that. If that asshole has a problem with it, I shove a gun up his ass.”

  Murmurs of approval echo around me and then I know I’ve won.

  He lets go of my jacket, still furious, and jabs a finger in my face. “I want a fucking paternity test.”

  That might be hard to get.

  “Johnny, it’s my fucking kid.”

  “I need proof, goddamn it. Word is going to spread very quickly about this—to friends of ours in New York, and that piece of shit has been in my restaurant every day, demanding to know where his girlfriend is.”

  Ah, good. He’s still here.

  A smirk spreads across my face. “She’s been with me.”

  He rakes his hand through his hair. “Goddamn it—crisse de tarbanak de marde de gang des cons. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He shoves my chest against the bar again. “You have a fucking death wish?”

  Maybe I just don’t fucking care, Johnny. I don’t give a fuck about you, or the family, or saving my own damn skin. I do what I want.

  I shrug my shoulder as the heart in my chest beats like a steady drum.

  “Bring me the fucking paternity test before he asks for a sit-down.”

  “Whatever.”

  I slide from the stool, ignoring the grins thrown my way as I walk out of the bar. It’s bad to piss off the boss. I know that, but I can’t bring myself to care. Although I’d never admit it, there’s no loyalty in my chest for Johnny. The only person in my life who matters is my mother. She loves me even though I’ve put her through so much shit. She’s the only person I live for.

  A flash of emotion chips through and the blood leaves my face.

  What the fuck are you doing? You’re going to get killed—this is fucking crazy, and your ma will never forgive you. Ever.

  Fifty grand.

  With that kind of money, I’ll be able to make sure arrangements for my mother are taken care of. She’ll never want for anything. Then it’s just a matter of waiting.

  Waiting to die.

  That’s how all our stories end in this life. Fucking pointless, isn’t it? My dad died young and I will, too, because I was a moron and followed in his footsteps.

  C’est la vie?

  Resentment boils in my chest as I cross the street and head back to my apartment. I don’t like thinking about this shit. I have everything I want, and yet nothing satisfies me. There’s nothing deep going on inside me. Just spades of boredom and restlessness. Emptiness.

  I’ve felt like this for a long time.

  The urge to stride into Tommy’s bar and find someone else to fuck flames inside me for a moment and then quickly dissipates. Why go to the bar when I have a real piece of ass waiting for me at home? Thinking of her brings a smile to my face. Yeah, that whole “no sex” deal we made lasted a grand total of twelve minutes. Who would have thought that Jack’s daughter would’ve been such a great lay? I mean, holy shit. The girl gets me hard every morning. Beyond that, it’s exciting. It’s fucking wrong. I could get my brains blown out just for touching her.

  Yeah, it’s fucked up.

  Energy ramps inside my chest as I climb the stairs to my apartment, unlocking the door. A rich smell from the kitchen makes my mouth water, and I hang my coat before walking toward it. Elena sits at the table and smiles at me.

  “Hey.”

  My chest tightens as I smile back to her, and I glance at the pot on the stove.

  “What’s that?”

  “Dinner.”

  Sometimes I wonder if she’s taking this role too seriously. “We’re roommates, hon. You don’t have to cook me dinner.”

  A complicated look falls on her face. “I know… It’s just—there’s not much else for me to do. Why not?”

  I shrug at her and sit down across the table from her. “I told Johnny that I knocked you up. He wasn’t very happy about it.”

  On the table, her hand
s shake and she nervously smoothes her hair. “He’ll know—won’t he? He’ll come after you. I still get messages from him every day.”

  “Let him try.”

  “W-what if you’re not here and he—”

  I reach forward and grasp her hand, bringing it to my lips. The last of her bruises only just healed, and I’m glad. A sick feeling filled my stomach every time I saw them splayed over her perfect skin. Fucking jackass.

  “I will kill him. I would consider it an honor and a privilege.”

  She just melts at those words. I see her struggling to hold back tears as she clings to my hand. The poor girl is lonely as fuck. She’s stuck here all day without anyone to talk to.

  “Maybe I should talk to the other guys’ wives. I know Tommy’s girlfriend is from New York, too. Maybe she can help you plan the wedding. At least you’ll have someone to hang out with.”

  The wedding. It sounds so strange coming from my lips like a matter-of-fact statement. Our wedding. To a girl I barely know or care about.

  It’s weird.

  “Thanks, Tony. That’s—that’s really sweet of you.”

  A chuckle escapes my mouth. Sweet? I’ve never heard a girl call me that in my life, ever, but she seems to really mean it. The expression on her face makes me uncomfortable. She looks at me as though I’m her goddamn savior, even though I’m only doing this for money. Part of me wants to set her straight, but I don’t want to see her upset.

  She gets up from her chair and walks to me, looking at me with a wide smile that makes me feel light. Then she straddles my legs and her fingers slowly rake through my hair. I touch her small waist and I think of all the women I’ve fucked in the past few years—how none of them even come close to her. She gets my dick hard whenever she feels like it, and the smug broad knows it. It worried me in the beginning that she was only fucking me to placate me, but after a week of nonstop fucking I know better.

  She needs my cock just as much as I need her pussy.

  Sometimes in the middle of the night, when I’m barely awake, I’ll feel her hand on my cock. Then I’ll fuck the shit out of her at some ungodly hour, and then when I wake up in the morning I’ll fuck her again. And then she’ll want more when I get back home. Fuck, it’s heaven for my overactive cock, but I am tired as hell all the time.

  “I missed you.”

  Elena’s sigh washes over my ears as she sits down on my lap, straddling my waist. I groan as she reaches down and grabs my hardness, and then she kisses me, and I fight the urge to shove my tongue down her throat.

  “Elena, we’re going to visit my ma tomorrow.” I swallow hard. “To tell her everything.”

  My palms sweat just thinking about it.

  “Okay,” she says, twirling a finger in my hair. “What’s she like?”

  “Old-fashioned, I guess. She’ll be very happy to meet you.”

  Her brilliant smile falters somewhat, and my chest tightens a little. I know that she’s not really mine, that this is all for show, but I can’t help but feel a little annoyed. She should be fucking grateful for this.

  “I’m just—I wonder what’s happening with my mom right now. I didn’t leave her with anything.”

  So that’s what’s bothering her.

  Then her hand freezes in my hair and she stands up from my lap, looking embarrassed.

  “Sorry, I know that you’re not here to listen to my problems.”

  “You barely talk to me at all, hon.” I stand up and my hip bumps into her waist, and she grabs a strand of her hair and tugs it. “When I come home, the first thing you do is jump on my cock. Don’t look at me like that—I’m not complaining.”

  “I just don’t know how to act around you. I don’t know what you expect from me.”

  “I don’t expect anything, doll. You’re the one paying me—”

  “—But I’m in your house, using your things, invading your privacy—”

  My laugh cuts her off. “You’re paying me fifty grand for a few months’ rent. I shouldn’t let you use my things?” My hand snakes around her neck. “Maybe you’re right. I should make you walk naked around the house.”

  Her watery eyes shine in the overhead lights and the laughter dies in my throat. All of a sudden, she shakes in my arms and tears stream down her face.

  Jesus.

  “What did I say?”

  She shakes her head, trying to turn out of my grasp. “Nothing.”

  A small yelp leaves her throat as I curl my hand around her forearm and yank her into my chest. Fear flashes through her tears and I let go of her arm as though it burned me.

  “Don’t walk away from me, Elena.”

  “I’m just overwhelmed. Rafael keeps contacting me and I’m getting married and we’re building up all these lies that we can’t possibly keep straight.”

  “First of all, give me that phone right now.”

  She grudgingly reaches inside the pocket of her jeans and hands me her cell phone. I turn it on and briefly scroll through the wall of angry text messages.

  When I find you I’ll RIP YOUR FUCKING FACE OFF

  Ur not gonna last five fucking minutes the moment I find you

  I dont think you realize how much STRESS you’re causing me. After everything I’ve fuckin done for you, you two-timing slut I will—

  My fingers are so tight around the phone that I’m sure the glass is about to break.

  “He sounds like a stand-up guy.”

  She smiles weakly.

  Then I hurl the phone to the floor as hard as I can, shattering the glass. Ignoring her screams of protest, I dig my boot into the plastic and stomp hard until it’s nothing but bits and pieces.

  “What the hell did you do?”

  “I’ll get you a new phone. You don’t need to read that shit every day, it’ll just make you upset.” I take her shoulders in my hands and squeeze them.

  “But I’ll have no idea if he’s planning something.”

  “You let me worry about that, sweetheart.” I kiss her wet lips, and she releases a sigh.

  * * *

  Honestly there’s nothing better than starting off the day with a blowjob.

  Wet, full lips wrapped around the most sensitive part of your cock, tongue riding up and down your shaft, swirling around your head.

  Everything fades away. Fucking world peace could be accomplished if everyone got enough head.

  Elena kneels on the shower floor, blinking up at me as hot water rains over her dark hair, which flattens to her face. She smiles at me, taking a break from shoving my fat cock down her throat. It’s a perfect thing to look at. She’s fucking hot, and she’s on her knees sucking my cock. At the same time, it’s agonizing because I can’t touch her beautiful tits or that pussy always aching for me.

  How the fuck does she do this to me? How?

  I can’t take it anymore—the wetness, the sliding, the sounds of her greedy mouth. I yank her arm so that she stumbles to her feet, and I gently push her against the glass with a growl.

  “You just love how hard you can get me, don’t you? Admit it.”

  Her lips touch my face, kissing my cheek, and I feel her smile against my skin.

  “Maybe I enjoy it just a little.”

  Her tits flush against my chest and blood pounds through my cock. Every throbbing beat is like a mantra. Fuck. Her. Fuck. Her.

  Delicate hands wrap around my thick cock and squeeze as she nips my neck.

  A little, my ass.

  I grab her shoulders and turn her around, and then my palm rips across her ass. It cracks through the bathroom, sounding a lot worse because of the water coating her skin. She yelps as a bright-red mark blooms over her skin. Then she bends over, palms flat against the wall.

  As long as she’s willing, I’m going to fuck this girl every spare second that I have. Every moment she’s not begging at my knees or bent over is a fucking waste. Her wet hair slides in my hand as I reach forward and yank hard, forcing her to arch her back.

  “You’re t
oo fucking sexy for your own good.”

  And too damn cocky.

  Goddamn, even the sight of her tits hanging down makes my cock twitch. The curve of her back, the swell of her ass, her glistening pussy—it’s an image of perfection.

  My length throbs as I aim it between her lips. They spread apart with the slightest pressure, and she shudders with pleasure as I sink into her. Her legs tremble as I pull back and thrust, addicted to her warmth. Fuck, it’s incredible. We fit together perfectly. She’s snug around my dick, and I feel her pussy clinging to me as I pull out, as if it’s desperate to keep me inside.

  Her palms slip on the glass as I grab her hips and thrust hard enough to make her feet stumble. Still, I find myself wishing we had an audience to fuck in front of, so that everyone could see that this amazing girl is all mine.

  She pushes her greedy ass against mine, taking more of my cock inside her. I grind against her, laughing when the bathroom echoes with her sharp gasps. The real thrill is when the girl comes. Absolutely nothing gives me a greater high than a girl becoming completely undone over my cock. It’s intoxicating to have that kind of power over someone. The more I fuck her, the more of a turn-on it is. She’s not tired of me, no matter how many times I fuck her.

  “Tony, more!”

  I’ll give you more.

  I grasp her hips, digging my fingers into her flesh as my pelvis smashes into her. She screams, slipping on the wall, but I hold her against me, pounding hard as she contorts her face, her tits swinging.

  “Harder!”

  Damn it. I can’t fuck you much harder.

  The ecstasy twisting her face makes blood rush to my chest. The steam rises in the shower, scorching our bodies, and I feel almost faint. My hand reaches around, playing with her clit as I watch my cock pulse inside her. I feel the bulge moving through her.

  “Come for me, baby. I want you to come hard on my dick.”

  “I—I am—I’m—” a wordless moan cuts off the rest of her words and she collapses on the glass.

  Her cunt tightens around me and then I pull out. The pressure builds as I fist my cock and I stroke once, sighing as jets of cum blast over her back.

  Elena turns around and I get a brief look of her flushed face before her arms wrap around my head and her lips crush against mine, so insistent and consuming. She bites my bottom lip and pulls back.