Junkie (Broken Doll #1)

by Heather C. Leigh

  Boss’s face split into a genuine grin and he spoke in a drawl so sexy my insides clenched. “No, doll, you misunderstood me. I want you with me, by my side.”

  The blood drained from my face. “What? No!” Boss’s smile fell and I saw a flash of anger in those deep blues. “I-I mean… I’m not good enough to sit with you. I’m just a…” My words trailed off as I saw his face harden. There would be no challenging this man. Boss got what Boss wanted. He probably hadn’t heard the word “no” in years.

  All pretenses dropped. “You will be there and you will be polite and charming.” His voice sliced the air like a guillotine and I swallowed the urge to flee. “I have neither asked nor demanded a single thing from you since your unexpected arrival. You will be dressed and ready at six sharp.”

  Boss’s displeasure at my refusal was obvious. With one final, hostile glare, he was satisfied his word was law and turned to leave.

  “I’ll be ready, but…” I nearly choked with fear when Boss spun to face me once more, the fury in his eyes and annoyance in his body language indicated he was more than ready for a throw down. Shrinking back, I stammered, “I-I have nothing to wear.”

  Boss’s expression relaxed a fraction, but his stance remained hostile and defensive. The line of his jaw was harsh, sharp enough to slice me open and scatter my courage all over the fancy floor. “A cocktail dress has been placed in your closet, along with shoes. You should find them acceptable.” Boss retreated, walking backwards to keep that cold stare fixed on me. “Six, Miri. Don’t disappoint me.”

  When he finally spun around and left, I exhaled, gasping with relief. It took a few moments to tamp down the unholy fear that twisted my stomach in hollow knots. That was easily the most terrifying interaction I’d had with Boss since I mouthed off after our shower that first night. One thing was certain, Boss did not like to be challenged or told no. Asshole.

  I retreated to the library and checked the clock. Noon. Six long hours to freak out while waiting to be presented as some sort of pity case to Boss’s business associates, whatever the hell that meant. Was he going to show me off as some kind of experiment? Look how I cleaned up this junkie whore. Or was I being dressed up for more sordid reasons? Entertainment, perhaps?

  I dashed away the hot tears with a trembling hand, angry with myself for getting upset. I would do whatever it took to survive. Boss wasn’t telling me to fuck everyone in front of an audience. Yet. All he wanted was for me to join him at a dinner. I could do this. I’d done much, much worse for so much less.

  6

  Miri

  Dinner was a thousand times worse than I’d imagined. Boss’s guests, while outwardly well groomed and dressed in expensive suits were, beneath the surface, some of the creepiest men I had ever met, and that said a lot. Throughout the meal, I would look up from my plate only to find one or more of them leering at me as if I were a selection on the menu. A single dinner made me feel more like a whore than any other time in my life, including when I was actually acting like a whore by trading sex for drugs.

  “You know, there are rumors that El Cuchillo is looking to take over your territory, Boss,” the heavyset man who seemed to be in charge of the visitors said casually with a heavy Mexican accent. He used a napkin to wipe his mouth and took a long drink from his wineglass.

  Boss waved a hand dismissively. “Tell me something I don’t know. He was after my predecessor for years even before I took over. I have no doubt Cuchillo is after me. He wants Austin. That’s not a secret.” I turned to glance at Boss sitting next to me. He was dressed in his own designer suit, looking more like a fashion model than a drug czar. Boss leaned back in his chair as casually as if he was discussing the weather. “Naturally, he won’t succeed.” The hair on my arms stood on end when his vibrant blue eyes narrowed and darkened to harsh slits in his handsome face. “Let him try. He’ll see what happens to those who cross me.”

  After a long, painful silence, the other man burst out laughing, a creepy, dark chuckle that iced my veins.

  “Good for you, Boss. Good for you.”

  Boss pushed back his chair, stood, pulling out mine as if he were a gentleman and this was a five-star restaurant. Not a drug lord’s compound and a meeting with disgusting members of a Mexican cartel. “No more business for now,” he said, extending a hand to help me to my feet. “It’s time to relax.” With my elbow firmly, almost painfully, clasped in his hand, Boss led the group into a large, formal room where a bartender was waiting to serve drinks. Once everyone was comfortable and chatting amongst themselves, gulping down Boss’s expensive liquor, he tugged me down to sit next to him on a small love seat.

  One of Boss’s men appeared in the doorway and the two exchanged a look. My jaw nearly hit the floor when Boss nodded and women began filing into the room. And not just women. The scantily clad kind, with fake tits, bright red lipstick, and four-inch, clear stripper heels. They were prostitutes. Lots of them.

  The guests cheered, all of them halfway to shitfaced and eager to start partying. All that was missing were the lines of coke on the coffee table along with various other drugs, and this would be a scene I’d experienced many times in the six months I spent with Mason.

  Boss must have felt me tense up because his large hand landed on my thigh and his fingers pressed into the soft flesh—a silent warning not to move or make a scene. I shot him the dirtiest look I could manage, which he returned with an impassive stare.

  Jackass!

  I tried to wiggle my leg out of his grasp, but Boss’s fingers only dug in deeper. He squeezed so hard I bit my lip to stifle a cry. Resigned to sitting quietly at his side, I tried not to watch while the disgusting spectacle in front of me played out. One by one, the hookers fanned out across the room, each finding a man to entertain. Nausea burned my esophagus, my dinner attempting to resurface, as subtle bumping and grinding quickly turned into live, full out, graphic porn. Another glimpse at Boss and I could see he still had that damn unaffected mask in place, not giving away a hint of what he was feeling or thinking. I couldn’t even tell where he was looking. His eyes were unfocused, as if he didn’t want to watch the scene any more than I did.

  When the first of the women, now nearly naked, slithered to the floor between one of the men’s legs and began to suck his dick, I’d had enough. I pushed up off the couch to leave, but Boss was faster. He grabbed my wrist, wrapped his other hand around my waist, and yanked me to straddle his lap, facing him.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I growled in his ear. “I don’t want to watch this.”

  Boss held me in place, the hand on my wrist moving to the back of my head, roughly pinning my chest against his, and cheeks pressed to one another in opposite directions. The scratch of his stubble sent electricity skittering down my spine to gather where our groins were rubbing together, and damn if his scent didn’t make my eyelids heavy.

  “Don’t even think about disrespecting me in front of my guests. You are my property, Miri. Tonight, you will act like it.” His low growl frightened me as much as it angered me, while the intimacy of our bodies made my heart pound.

  The hand on my head tightened in my hair and Boss’s other hand skated down my back to caress my ass. I gasped when he groped me through the short cocktail dress he’d forced me to wear and slid his hand underneath the soft fabric.

  “Stop—”

  My words were cut short when Boss yanked me by the hair until we were nose to nose. His blue eyes were dark, both with anger and lust—lust I could clearly feel growing between us, hot and hard as it dug into the crotch of my panties. The slow friction began to drive me insane with desire. The hostility in his eyes was what frightened me, yet at the same time, it set my body on fire.

  “Do as I say, doll.” Boss’s breath was warm across my lips and made me ache to taste them again. He shifted beneath me and I groaned, unable to stop from parting my own lips. The pleasure of his cock grinding between my thighs was quickly too much.

  We were surrou
nded by the sounds and smells of sex. Grunting, cursing, wet slurping—it both disgusted me and turned me on something fierce. I knew I should slap Boss across the face and storm out of the room. He deserved it for putting me in this position, forcing me to endure this humiliation, but the power I felt at being able to undo this man made me unable to stop. I didn’t want to stop. Boss’s unwavering eye contact and his thick hard-on pressed against me, proof that I affected him. My touch excited him. With this newfound realization, I began to rock my hips back and forth, the movements so small they were pure torture when what I really wanted to do was unzip his pants, release his stiff cock, and sink down onto it, guests or not, but I would deny myself to get back at Boss. I wanted him to suffer for this, for his high-handed manipulation..

  Of course, being a raging control freak, Boss wasn’t going to allow me to be in charge of the teasing. With a growl, he took over, one of his hands sliding from my waist to my thigh, long fingers brushing against my underwear. I shuddered, unable to stop from gasping when he pressed his thumb down on my clit and began massaging it through the light cotton fabric. My thighs clenched against Boss’s hips as a bolt of pleasure tore up my spine.

  “Oh god,” I moaned and my forehead dropped to his shoulder.

  “Stay still,” he whispered in my ear. Before I could respond, his hand slid under the edge of my panties and a long, thick finger pushed inside my slick pussy. My entire body tightened while he worked that talented finger, rubbing and fucking me with it while I tried not to move or make any noise. The other people in the room had vanished, my entire focus solely on Boss and the wicked hand working between my legs.

  “Jesus.” Without thinking, I darted my tongue out to taste the skin on Boss’s neck. I groaned at the salty flavor and buried my nose in his collar to inhale his heady scent. My hips began to thrust on their own, fucking myself on his hand, determined to chase that sweet release and I sank my teeth into his shoulder to stifle the groans building in my throat.

  Boss’s fingers gripped my hip tighter. “Don’t fucking move,” he growled as he fucked me harder by adding a second finger to the first.

  “I-I can’t…” I was panting, desperate for more.

  “I’ve got you, doll.” Boss pressed his thumb to my clit and circled it while his fingers continued pumping in and out, and that was it. I shattered, trembling as my pussy clenched around his fingers and the orgasm tore through me. I bit my lip so hard to smother a scream that I drew blood.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered. Sweaty and sated, I kept my head on his shoulder, completely blissed out.

  “Watch.” Boss’s deep voice penetrated the haze. I lifted my head enough to meet his heavy-lidded stare. Boss withdrew his fingers and showed the glistening digits to me before he put them into his mouth, sucking and licking my juices like he was starving and it was the only food in sight.

  My mouth opened as I watched, eager to join my tongue with his and share the taste of my pleasure. I dropped my eyes to his sensual lips and leaned forward.

  Before our mouths touched, Boss removed his fingers, straightened his spine, and lifted me off his lap to place me on my feet. In one graceful move, he stood and buttoned his jacket to hide his erection.

  “Gentlemen, enjoy the rest of the evening. My men will see you out when you’ve had your fill.”

  I was suddenly incredibly self-conscious. All around the room, women and men were naked, fucking, sucking, in pairs or even threes and fours. And I just got off in front of them like I was one of the paid whores. My face was so hot I thought it might incinerate and I was ready to bolt. Boss sensed my fear, grabbed my hand, and intertwined our fingers to lead me out of the room and the bizarre scene. He didn’t release me until he led us all the way upstairs to my room.

  Once there, Boss finally let go, opening the bedroom door. Incredibly confused and unbelievably pissed that despite everything humiliating thing he just did, I still wanted him. I stood in the doorway, my pulse racing, fully expecting Boss to demand I return the favor and take care of his obvious erection. I would do it, even though he treated me like another one of the whores in the room.

  Naturally, Boss did the exact opposite of what I expected. That jackass turned to leave, with every intention on dumping me here with no explanation as to what the hell just happened.

  “Hey,” I shouted at his back. “What the fuck?”

  Boss stopped, his shoulders tense, and for a moment I wondered if I had a death wish or something. It wasn’t smart to forget that the man was a violent criminal. Boss turned, stalked over to my doorway, and stood in front of me, staring down his nose, saying nothing.

  “What was that all about?” I asked, my face still blistering with indignity.

  Boss’s face had that damn neutral expression he used, as if he were annoyed by my questions like a fly buzzing around his head. As if he were merely tolerating the stupid, junkie whore while she blathered on and on.

  Boss ran a hand down the front of his perfect three-piece suit and stuck it in his pocket, leaning casually on the doorframe. He spoke to me as if I were an employee, cold and impersonal. “If you must know, I don’t partake in whores, which is a problem at times. My guests would have found it strange if I didn’t have a woman of my own while they were being entertained.”

  My skin flared hotter, but this time, it wasn’t shame. It was red-hot rage. “So… so what?” I spat. “I was just a substitute for one of those whores? Just a convenient pussy to sit in your lap so you wouldn’t look like a jackass in front of a bunch of dirt bag thugs?”

  Boss gave me a disinterested once over. “That’s a crude way of putting it, but if it helps you to understand, then yes.”

  Before I knew what I was doing, I reared back and slapped Boss across the face as hard as I could. His head didn’t move from the blow, but I knew he felt it. Those damn blue eyes proved he was shocked I hit him. Again. His flared nostrils and the slight curl of his upper lip proved that it pissed him off.

  Well, fuck him.

  My hand was on fire from the hit and my heart felt like it might burst from my chest, but I refused to show any weakness, despite Boss’s threat to kill me if I ever hit him again.

  “You fucking prick.” With both palms to his chest, I shoved him back, feeling smug when he tripped over his own feet. “I felt more like a whore tonight than I ever have in my life.”

  Then I slammed the door in his face and locked it. I knew he could get in and kill me if he wanted to, and he probably would. I didn’t care. I was so damn angry and it had only been a matter of time until I snapped. I’d been waiting for Boss to take payment for his kindness for over a month, the stress of it hanging over my head. Well, now it was done.

  So why did I feel so shitty?

  I was able to hold it together for about ten seconds before sliding to the floor and sobbing into my hands.

  What. The. Fuck.

  Boss

  The second I was behind the locked door of my bedroom, I freed my aching cock and fisted it in my hand, leaning against the door because I was too impatient to get any further inside the room. I should have been furious at Miri for slapping me, but her anger, her fire, her indignation, only served to make my cock harder. Images of Miri coming while sitting on my lap, slick heat around my fingers, flooded my head as my hand moved faster up and down my shaft. I paused to spit in my hand and continued jerking off. Within minutes, the pressure built in my balls and the base of my spine tingled with pleasure.

  “Fuck! Goddamn!”

  My cock pulsed as I came and I shouted loud enough to rattle the windows as my balls emptied. Thick jets of cum shot out over my hand and sprayed across the hardwood floor. Panting, I sagged against the door, for once too drained to give a shit about putting my dick back into my pants or immediately cleaning up the handful of cum dripping from my fingers. My mind was thoroughly scrambled by the mind-blowing orgasm.

  When I was finally able to catch my breath, I washed my hands and shed the suit to climb
under the hot spray of the shower. Now that I released the sexual tension, I felt disgusting. Miri was hurting. I hurt her. The look on her face when I said she was nothing but a whore made me wince. I didn’t mean it, but it was better for Miri to think I was an asshole than for her to start caring about me or think I was any kind of good guy.

  I’m most definitely not a good guy.

  I rubbed my cheek and grimaced. Fuck, she got me good. And what did I do after she slammed the door in my face? I jerked off to thoughts of me fingering her in a roomful of criminals and hookers. I was a sick, fucked-up bastard.

  With my hands braced on the tile, I hung my head and let the water pound on the back of my neck. What the fuck was I thinking? Doing that to Miri in a roomful of men from one of Mexico’s largest distributors of narcotics? I must be crazy or halfway to losing my goddamn mind.

  I told Miri the truth about having her with me tonight. She was at my side specifically so I wouldn’t have to partake in the whores I was expected to have ready for my “guests.” It was common courtesy to provide women at these types of meetings, but I don’t touch whores.

  My guests, however, would see me as weak or a pussy if I didn’t join in the party. I used Miri as a shield. My plan had been to simply have Miri sit on my lap and fake some sort of sexual act so the others wouldn’t be suspicious, but when I saw the very real desire in her eyes and felt the heat of her against my hard cock, I couldn’t keep my hands off of her.

  My dick began to fill again at the memories of thrusting my fingers into her tight, wet pussy.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  I turned the water to cold and thought about the cruel words I flung at Miri, and my hard-on disappeared. A ripple of disgust ran through me as I dried off and climbed into bed. I treated Miri no better than one of those whores tonight. I forced her to sit on my lap while I brought her to orgasm in front of a cartel of men who were fucking women I paid for. Even now, all I could think of was going back to her room, throwing her face down on the bed, and shoving my cock deep inside that perfect, hot pussy of hers. Miri was pissed but she couldn’t hide the fact that she wanted me. If I hadn’t been such a douchebag, she would have gladly let me fuck her right into the mattress until we were both screaming our throats raw.