The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  “No. It’s an impromptu visit she can thank her brother for,” Maria said, looking around the apartment. “Where is she anyway? It’s nearly three in the morning.”

  “Um…working,” she smiled nervously.

  “Can you give me a minute to throw on some clothes?”

  Maria shooed her away with her hands before walking further into the apartment, picking up empty cups and paper dishes along the way.

  “I’ll just be a minute. Make yourself at home,” Mia said, eyes bouncing anxiously between me and Maria. They locked with mine and she hastily turned on her heel and headed down the tiny hallway. Yeah, something was up and it wasn’t my dick. Bummer.

  “You can leave now,” Maria said, glancing over her shoulder. “I wish I could say it was nice to meet you Rabbit.”

  “Riggs,” I hissed.

  “What kind of name is that anyway?” She asked, brushing me off and bending down to pick up a pair of shoes one of the girls had haphazardly left on the couch.

  “It’s my road name,” I explained angrily.

  “Well if that isn’t the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. What is your God given name?”

  I shook my head in disgust and walked away from her, searching for the bathroom.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Maria asked behind me.

  That was it. A man can only take so much and I had had my fill of Maria Bianci.

  “I’m going to go take a piss, would you like to come with me? Maybe hold my dick for me?”

  I grinned in satisfaction when I heard her gasp behind me. One for Riggs, twelve thousand for Maria.

  I walked down the narrow hallway, finding the bathroom and heard Mia talking in hushed tones in the room across from it.

  “Lauren, you really need to answer your phone goddamn it! Your mother is here with some scary looking guy. Call me back.”

  I stopped outside Mia’s bedroom door, peered through the crack and saw she was fully dressed. Double bummer. She was sitting on the foot of her bed, her fingers moving rapidly on her phone. I toed the door open with the tip of my boot and she quickly dropped her phone onto the bed.

  “Problem?” I asked, checking over my shoulder to see if “Carmela Soprano” was anywhere near, then stepped further into Mia’s room. She lifted her eyes to mine, sinking her perfectly straight teeth into her lower lip.

  “Why would you ask that?”

  I narrowed my eyes trying to read her. I didn’t know what the hell was going on here but I was sure that my night wasn’t over. I was starting to hate everyone with the last name Bianci.

  “Where’s Lauren?” I asked, crossing my arms against my chest. Her eyes zeroed in on my cut and I watched her throat as she swallowed.

  “Who are you?” She questioned.

  “I’m a friend of her brother’s,” I lied because Anthony was more of an enemy of mine at this point. She looked uneasy, I didn’t know if it was because I was a strange guy standing in her bedroom or because she was hiding something. I lifted the skull cap from my head and ran my fingers roughly through my hair.

  “Look, if Lauren’s in some kind of trouble…” I started but my words trailed off the moment she stood from her bed and peeked her head out the door. She closed it softly and turned around.

  “Lauren’s been lying to her mother,” she started.

  I fitted the hat back onto my head and sighed. More Bianci bullshit was headed my way.

  “Maria thinks Lauren is an intern at a hospital, a requirement for her nursing degree. The thing is, she kind of quit the program,” she continued.

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Mama Leone” was going to blow a gasket.

  “So if she’s not playing Florence Nightingale, where is she?” I questioned.

  Silence.

  Fuck my life. I stalked toward Mia, watching as she raised an eyebrow and walked backward until her back slammed against the door.

  “Ouch,” she muttered.

  I narrowed my eyes, bracing one hand flat against the door over her head and leaned close to her.

  “Where is she?” I repeated.

  “She’s working at a bar in town, near campus,” she said, stepping around me to walk toward her desk. She ripped a piece of paper off a pad and scribbled something on it. “Here’s the address. She’s not answering the phone so you need to go get her before Maria starts asking questions.”

  “You’re kidding right?”

  Does the leather and tattoos not scare anyone anymore these days? These people are walking all over me like I’m some kind of jerk off.

  “I don’t even know what she looks like,” I grunted, staring down at the scribbled address, wondering what kind of bar the Pink Pussycat was and what the fuck I did in life to deserve this shit.

  Mia looked at me for a moment before turning around and grabbing a picture frame off her dresser. She held up the framed photo of her and what I assumed was Lauren. I dropped my eyes to the picture of the two girls, my eyes zeroing in on Lauren.

  Big crystal blue eyes, framed by thick black-rimmed glasses, stared back at me. She had a killer smile, perfectly straight, white teeth, framed by full pink lips and a cute tongue since she was sticking it out the side of her mouth. Her black hair framed her face in waves, a stark contrast to her bright blue eyes. She was pretty, hot even, if you’re into the girl next door type. Or nurses. I wouldn’t mind being her patient.

  I lifted my eyes back to Mia’s and handed her back her photograph before turning around and pulling open the door.

  “Are you going to go get her?” Mia called over my shoulder. I ignored her and brushed past Maria who was scowling at me from the bathroom door.

  “Got lost on your way to the john?” she asked, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently.

  “No, when you wouldn’t hold my dick for me I thought I’d test my luck with your daughter’s roommate,” I smiled, glancing over my shoulder at Mia. “Thanks, babe,” I winked.

  “What? No! I didn’t…” Mia stammered.

  These Bianci people were a pain in my ass but they sure were fun to fuck with.

  I turned around and shoved my finger in front of Maria’s nose.

  “I’ll be back. Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To pick up your damn daughter, because someone upstairs…” I pointed my index finger to the ceiling, “…wants to keep fucking testing my patience with you people.”

  It was her turn to shove her accusing finger in my face.

  “You’re going to the hospital to pick her up? Just…don’t talk to anyone. I’m warning you, you better behave yourself and not embarrass her. Lauren has worked very hard to get where she is and the last thing she needs is some scoundrel like you, messing things up for her with your crude mouth and poor manners,” she said.

  Was this bitch serious?

  “I’ll try not to piss on the floors of the hospital and promise not to pick my nose in front of any hotshot doctors,” I sneered, shaking my head in disgust.

  She should only know how deep my manners go.

  I stalked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind me and glanced at the address Mia had given me. Fucking bullshit.

  I typed the address into the GPS of the cage I was driving because I was in the middle of Bumblefuck New York, full of winding roads and fucking deer. I was waiting for that to happen next because why not add killing Bambi to this wretched night.

  I whimpered as I drove, feeling sorry for myself and slammed my hand against the steering wheel.

  I just wanted my bike and the open road.

  And maybe a blowjob.

  That would be nice.

  Lauren’s pretty, pink lips, wrapped nice and tight around my dick and those blue eyes peeking up at me over the frames of her glasses. Shit. Where the fuck did that come from?

  Get your shit together, Riggs.

  “You’ve arrived at your destination,” the GPS alerted, and I’m not going to lie, she sou
nded hot too.

  I needed to get laid.

  Or I needed to go to bed.

  Something. Anything.

  The Pink Pussycat was packed, people stood in line waiting to get inside even at three a.m., apparently making it a happening joint for the people of Bumblefuck. I moved to the front of the line and a big brut of a guy stood there, staring down at me.

  “Line’s back there,” the beast said.

  “That’s nice, move aside,” I replied, stepping around him but he mimicked my move and blocked me again.

  I glanced at the heavens.

  “Why?” I shouted into the dark sky.

  No one answered.

  Pussy.

  Shit, I was probably going to hell for that one.

  I looked back at the beast of a bouncer who raised an eyebrow at me, and was tempted to tell him he looked like Michael Clarke Duncan, but I needed to focus. I took a deep breath and opened my cut for him to see the gun I had tucked into my waistband.

  “Listen, bud, I’ve had the night from hell and I’m ten seconds away from losing it, so move the fuck out of my way and let me do what the fuck I came here to do,” I growled, reaching for the gun.

  He crossed his arms, glanced at my gun, and shook his head completely unfazed.

  “Pretty please, with sugar on top?” I tried. Nothing. “Fuck! The name “Tony Soprano” mean anything to you? Shit, I mean, fuck, what’s his name…Pastore.” The burley bouncer remained unmoved. That’s it. I can’t take anymore. “Bro, get the fuck out of my way, seriously, I have to get one of the girls that works here, I’m her ride.”

  “Who?”

  “Lauren Bianci,” I huffed. That fucking last name was nothing but trouble.

  “Shit, man, why didn’t you say so?” he pounded me on the back and smiled. “Lauren’s my girl, love that chick, always makes me smile,” he said, with an actual smile. “Go on in. She’s working the bar tonight.”

  I think I muttered a thank you, I’m not sure, but I brushed past him and stepped foot into the loud bar that was packed beyond capacity. It took me five minutes, pushing my way through the crowd toward the bar that was surrounded mostly by men that were hooting and hollering.

  What was the big fuss?

  I squeezed my way between two jocks screaming for their turn to be next and caught a glimpse of what had every guy in this joint begging to be next.

  The girl next door was on her knees, crawling the length of the bar, from one lucky bastard to another. She poured the liquor straight from the bottle into some lucky bastard’s mouth.

  “Marry me!” He shouted, and she threw her head back and laughed.

  “Oh baby, I’m not the marrying kind,” she said, blowing him a kiss before she rose to her feet and gave me a full view of her outfit. I started with the shoes that stomped across the bar, fucking sexy as hell. I’d make her keep them on when she wrapped her legs around me and wouldn’t even mind those five-inch heels digging into my back. She was a tiny thing, maybe five foot two, if that, but those heels made her killer legs seem so long. Or maybe it was the short plaid skirt that gave every man at the bar a peep show. Her waist was tiny and her stomach flat, but her rack? Man, what I wouldn’t do to shove my face in her tits. Her shirt knotted under her breasts and was open for all to see the black lace bra she was wearing. I squinted, hoping to catch a little peak of her nips but she was moving all over the place, dancing up a storm as she flirted and poured liquor into all the open mouths, waiting for a taste.

  Lauren Bianci, the girl next door, rocked the naughty school girl bit like no one’s business.

  “What’s the matter handsome? Why so serious?” she asked. Her big blue eyes, framed by those damn glasses, staring straight into mine. Every fucking thing went south, whatever common sense I had left, all my blood, it all went straight to my dick. She smiled wide, bending down and pulled my hat from my head before she ran her fingers through my messy hair and yanked my head back. “Open up,” she demanded against my ear.

  I looked into those eyes and was fucking lost. She could’ve demanded I run around the bar naked, barking like a dog and I would’ve done it. So I opened my mouth and let her poor the cinnamon flavored whiskey down my throat.

  My dick was rock-fucking-hard.

  Down boy!

  She pulled the bottle away and swiped her thumb across my lips.

  “Good boy,” she cheered, turning her attention to the man beside me but I grabbed her wrist. Something changed in her eyes and she glanced around the bar, my guess in search of a bouncer. She probably thought I was just another schmuck that wanted to take her into a bathroom stall. I kind of did.

  I leaned closer, hypnotized by her perfume and sniffed her.

  “Show’s over Lauren. Grab your things it’s time to go,” I said against her ear.

  She tried to pull her wrist from my hand but my grip tightened and I turned my head a fraction to stare into those blue orbs again. Shit, they were pretty.

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Last call! Grab your favorite pussycat for a final round!” A voice said over the mic.

  “Man, you had your fucking turn. C’mere pussycat,” the guy next to me shouted. I let go of Lauren’s hand and snapped my head in his direction and glared at the stupid fuck, shrinking him back down to his size. Napoleon complex bullshit.

  “Fuck off,” I growled, before turning back to Lauren. But she was gone. My eyes roamed around the bar looking for her but came up empty. Poof! Vanished.

  Yep, it was official. I hated everyone with the last name Bianci.

  Chapter Two

  Last call was an hour ago and tips were split amongst all the pussycats. I hated that fucking name almost as much as I hated dancing half naked on a bar. Unfortunately, when you decide that you don’t really want to be a nurse but have a shitload of bills…you have to do something. And running home to mommy isn’t an option, at least not for me. Not because my mother wouldn’t welcome me home with open arms. She’d do it and try to hide the disappointment in her eyes as she did so.

  My mom was a single mom who sacrificed much of herself to give me and my brother a good life. We didn’t want for anything and there was always food on the table because she busted her ass to make sure there was. When my brother got older he tried to man up and take the place of my dad and fell into the wrong crowd doing so. My brother broke our mother’s heart when he became a made man. That’s right, made, as in the mob. Anthony is an enforcer for Victor Pastore, a title that landed him in a jail cell for three years.

  The day Anthony went to prison was the day everything changed for our little family or at least for me. I hated seeing how upset my mother was, how disappointed in him she was and most of all how she blamed herself for Anthony’s lifestyle. It was me though, who finally got my mother to smile again, to believe she hadn’t failed as a mother. All I had to do was show her my acceptance letter into one of the most prestigious nursing programs in New York State. The icing on the cake was the full scholarship I was gifted because of my good grades throughout high school.

  So, while one child served time for a crime he didn’t commit, Maria Bianci’s other child busted her ass to maintain her scholarship.

  Anthony was released a year or so ago, and despite my mother and his girl Adrianna’s pleas, he fell back into his old life. And me? Well, I gave up. Gave up on being a nurse, threw away the scholarship, and gave up on being the prodigal child…gave up on everything. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life but I was sure that changing bedpans wasn’t for me. It was pretty silly to think the girl who hated the sight of blood was really contemplating becoming a nurse anyway. I gave up and kept that shit to myself. That’s right, my mom and brother think everything is just dandy. Good little Lauren is hitting the books, making the grades, on her way to becoming the first person in the Bianci family to graduate college and make something of herself.

  Lies. Big fat lies.

  I shoved my slutty outfit, albeit it e
arned me a lot of tips, into my duffel bag and finished dressing back into my sweats. I walked toward the sink and stared at the girl reflected in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, I removed my glasses and washed all the make-up from my face.

  Society was bullshit. I wonder, if I served drinks at The Pink Pussycat without a stitch of make-up on and a turtleneck, if I’d make a dollar.

  Probably not.

  Probably wouldn’t even make enough to cover my cellphone bill let alone my rent.

  I twisted my hair into a messy bun on top of my head and perched my glasses back on my nose. I was finally able to look like myself again, the good girl who just wanted to please everyone.

  I slipped the strap of my bag over my shoulder and made my way back into the main room of the bar where everyone was getting ready to leave. I was hoping to catch a ride from Big Lou, the bouncer. My Toyota was out of commission and I didn’t have the money to fix it yet. It’s not even like it needed a lot of work but the brakes were shot and the tires were balled. Oh, and there was that little problem—it started whenever it felt like. See? Not much, easy job. A piece of cake…right?

  “Hey Lou…” I started but was interrupted by my phone ringing at the bottom of my bag.

  “What are you still doing here?” Lou asked me, confusing me. Where the hell was I supposed to go?

  I grabbed my phone and my eyes widened when I saw it was my mother calling. My stomach dropped as I accepted the call nervously. It’s never good news when the phone rings at four in the morning, and when your brother is a mobster? Well you get the point.

  Please don’t let him be hurt.

  Please don’t let him be in trouble.

  “Mom?”

  “Well, it’s about time! Thank you, Saint Anthony,” she shouted into the phone, causing me to hold the phone away from my ear. “I’ve been calling you for almost two hours. Is that hooligan there? He didn’t embarrass you or cause you any trouble at the hospital, did he? Let me know, and so help me God I will smack him silly.”

  What in God’s name was she talking about?

  “What hooligan? Mom slow down…my shift just ended.” I flinched as the lie came out of my mouth so easily.