Tied Down

by Vanessa Waltz

  “Those fucks better take care of him. I swear to God. I’ve never paid so much for a fucking hit.”

  My murmured, unintelligible response doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He cups his hand around his ear, looking at me.

  “What was that? Couldn’t quite make that out.” He grins at the fury on my face.

  I’m glad you’re able to keep a sense of humor during this.

  “Fuck it.”

  He bounces from the bed and grabs the corner of the tape, ripping it off my face. Spittle drools down my cheek, and he wipes it off with his thumb.

  “Rafael, let me go. This is insane.”

  “Let you go so you can crack me over the head with that lamp?” He nods toward the heavy-looking lamp on the nightstand that I’ve been eyeing. “I don’t think so.”

  Rage boils in my chest as I struggle fruitlessly against my bonds.

  “When he’s dead, we’ll go upstate. Hide out in some fucking farm. That money will last us a while.”

  He talks about it on the bed as though he’s got everything figured out.

  “Or maybe I can give it to Vince—get him to call off this shit.”

  “Yeah, do that so that I can watch him blow off your head.”

  It bursts out of me before I can swallow back the words, and Rafael whirls around.

  Oh fuck.

  He gets up from the bed, gun dangling from his grip as he walks in front of me, his pelvis facing me. “You’re a sick cunt,” he says as he threads his hand through my hair, yanking viciously. “The moment this kid is born, I’m beating some fucking manners back into you.”

  The deepest loathing riles inside me as he gently cups my face, running his thumb over his bottom lip. Disgust swirls in my stomach as I see the bulge in his pants, growing larger by the second.

  “Fuck, maybe I should just shove my cock down your throat to shut you up.”

  “I’ll bite it off,” I growl.

  “You’ll lose more than a couple teeth if you do that to me.”

  “No!” I squirm in my seat, terrified when he actually undoes his belt with a groan. He pulls his pants down and I scream.

  He swears and smothers my mouth with his hand, and the door suddenly rattles as though a battering ram smashed into it.

  “OPEN THE FUCK UP!”

  “Tony!”

  I manage to scream his name as his hand goes slack around my mouth.

  “Fuck,” Rafael swears before he aims the gun at the door.

  “NO, DON’T!”

  Too late.

  The sounds of gunshots explode in my ears as he aims at the door and shoots. Black holes rip through the door and shatter through the window, which is covered with drapes. He clenches his face as he fires indiscriminately.

  They’re going to fire back. Fuck.

  Using my weight, I swing so that my chair topples to the floor. Returning fire blasts the plaster above me, and a voice screams for them to stop.

  BAM!

  I see an image of Rafael frantically reloading his gun before he’s blasted off his feet, back smashed against the floor. Blood streaks the wall as he slumps down.

  Yes. Finally.

  It all happened in an instant, and suddenly men pool in the room. They kick away Rafael’s gun. I can only make out slacks and leather shoes before a familiar face drops down to my level and hauls me upright.

  Tony gives me a sad smile as his hands briefly grasp mine.

  “Hey there, troublemaker.”

  I’m so stunned to see him here that I’m convinced it’s a figment of my imagination. “Tony? How—what about the ambush?”

  “They were just low-level street thugs. They backed off once they knew who they were dealing with and told us where to find you.”

  I can’t believe it. My heart swells inside my chest as I realize that Tony is really here.

  “Vincent, she’s mine! Her baby is mine! Don’t do this!”

  “Shut him up.”

  Tommy sinks his fist between Rafael’s ribs and he sputters with blood. Tony quickly cuts the duct tape from my hands and feet. A vicious surge of vengeance courses through my limbs.

  “Let me do it. I want to.”

  Tony’s face darkens. “No wife of mine is going to be an accomplice to murder.”

  “Vince, you still got my room at the deli?” Tommy’s voice trembles with excitement.

  The New York boss crosses his arms, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen him. “Yeah,” he responds. “Tony, is that okay with you?”

  “Let me take care of him, Tony.”

  I glance at Tommy, whose excited face shines with bloodlust.

  Tony doesn’t seem to be listening to them. He wraps his arms around me and lifts me out of the chair, wrapping around me so tightly that I think he’ll never be able to let go.

  “We’ll wait outside,” Tommy says in a different voice.

  Once the door shuts, he lets out a strangled gasp. “What the fuck did you do to me, Elena?”

  He pulls my face toward his roughly and kisses me, tongue spearing through my mouth in a dance that makes my chest heat.

  When he finally breaks away, I see tears swimming in his eyes.

  Nothing feels the same anymore.

  I think that to myself as I pace around Tony’s apartment, waiting for him to come home. The charges against him were mysteriously dropped following the disappearance of Rafael. He left the motel with Tommy and the others, probably to torture the bastard before he killed him.

  I find that I don’t really mind much.

  It’s just hard for me to accept that things are finally getting back to normal.

  The door opens.

  The sound used to terrify me.

  His deep footsteps creak over the floorboards, and I get up from the armchair in the living room, twisting my ring around my finger.

  Tony gives me a heart-stopping smile the moment he sees me tiptoeing into the foyer. His smell envelops me as he wraps an arm around my waist, hand curving protectively over my small baby bump. His coarse cheek scratches mine as he turns his face to tease me with his lips. Sparks travel down to my thighs.

  He grasps me in his arms, pulling back to look at me with a smile I’ve never seen on him.

  “Baby, I’m out.”

  Out? Out of patience? Out of what?

  A tentative smile creeps over my face when he laughs. Geez, I’ve never seen him like this.

  “Johnny let me go. He let me go, Elena!”

  He’s out of the Mafia.

  “Oh my God.” Joy soars through my chest and tears spring to my eyes. “Really?”

  “It’s just me, you, and the baby now. I’m done with the life.”

  I bite my lip anxiously. Back home, I knew the rules. You don’t leave the Mafia after signing up. It’s a life of service or death.

  “How?”

  He shrugs. “I told him Tommy could take my place.”

  “Johnny wasn’t happy with everything that went down. He didn’t take the threat to my life seriously, and word is getting out about it. No one respects a boss like that, you know? He wanted to get rid of me—to transfer me to another family, but I told him I just wanted out. So I got out.”

  I can’t believe it. We’re so lucky. “So—so what are you going to do now?”

  A hand slips down my jeans, pushing aside the fabric of my panties as he slowly strokes me. I gasp into his chest as a smirk widens his face.

  “Right now, I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.”

  His face is filled with joyous energy as he suddenly lifts me into his arms. “Before I do, though, I wanted to ask you something.”

  I cling to his shoulders, smiling. “What?”

  “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

  He sets me down over the bed, and I try to suppress a smile. “We’re married, Tony.”

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t real.” He bends over, planting his arms on either side of me as heat curls over my breasts from his fuck-me gaze.
/>
  “When you say ‘yes,’ I want you to mean it.”

  “I meant it then and I mean it now. I love you and I want you to fuck me. Is that good enough for you?”

  Heat blazes through his eyes and the smirk tugs at his full lips.

  It strikes me how things come full circle. My infatuation with bad boys could’ve landed me with another bad egg, but I got lucky. I got him.

  He seals his lips against me and heat blazes through my chest. For the first time in a long time, I’m optimistic about the future. If he’s in it, I know I’ll be all right.

  Join my newsletter to never miss out on free books, giveaways, and 0.99c sales! Click here to join!

  If you enjoyed this story, please remember to leave a review! Keep scrolling for the first chapter of Property of the Bad Boy!

  Property of the Bad Boy

  Cravotta Crime Family #3

  Chapter One

  Jack

  Music pounds from the floor-to-wall speakers, radiating outward. The waves shake into my leg, traveling upward to bury somewhere in my chest. The bass plays my rib cage like a drum, and I lift the cool glass to my lips—I don’t remember what the fuck I’m drinking—and I tilt my head back. A vague burning sensation fills my mouth as multicolored lights bleed into each other.

  Jesus, I’m wasted.

  I’m wasted a lot lately.

  A hand pounds my shoulder really fucking hard, and I turn around, glass in hand. The whole world turns with me in swirls of color. I’m ready to smash the drink in his face, but it’s only François. He gives me a look that boils my blood. That upturned nose and those haughty eyes condemn me.

  Go ahead and judge me, you fuck.

  Like anyone in my position would be sober.

  His mouth moves, and it takes a few seconds to work out what he’s saying. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Am I balls deep in some chick right now?”

  He rolls his eyes.

  “I came here to get laid, and I’m not leaving until that happens.”

  We went out tonight celebrating my last night of freedom, but so far it’s a fucking letdown. Johnny’s axe hangs over my neck, and I keep thinking about that instead of scoring easy pussy.

  “Keeping the boss waiting isn’t smart, Jack.”

  Fuck the boss.

  François’s jovial face falls ever so slightly as heat rises to my skin. It’s almost as if I said it out loud. Maybe I would say it if I had a death wish, but I don’t want to think about that piece of shit right now. My head turns, swimming in colors and perfume and the hundreds of bodies, smashed together. Ignoring him, I slide into the thick of the dance floor. I came here for pussy. One last wild night.

  Used to be that I had wild nights every fucking night. A new day, a new girl. Easy and simple is how I like it, and getting a hot piece of ass to follow me to bed was never hard. A roll of cash and a few soft words on their ears would usually do the trick, but some girls don’t go for that. Some girls want me to whisper something dirty in their ears. They want the filth. They want me to talk about making them come with my tongue. I’ll tell them how big my dick is. None of them believe me, and then it’s easy to persuade them to go somewhere so that I can show them privately. Some of them are wild for action. They want excitement in their lives. Then all I have to do is show the gun hanging at my hip and tell them that I work “in construction,” and they’re mine for the evening.

  There are beautiful girls everywhere, wearing shorts with tattered strings that brush over the swell of their nicely tanned asses, just begging for a squeeze. A tall blonde pushes her hair back shyly and smiles at me, but she’s not really my type. Nice tits though. I keep squeezing my way through, but it’s impossible to be heard, and I’m not about to throw a girl over my shoulder and walk out.

  This isn’t working. There are too many lights and sounds. Frankly I’m in danger of falling on my ass, and heat presses in on me from all sides. I feel like I’m in a straitjacket. By the time I make my way back to the bar, François is gone. He fucked off somewhere. Good.

  The bartender looks up as I arrive, making me a drink before I can even sit down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to take advantage of me. She knows who I am—the people I’m connected to. That alone keeps the drinks flowing all night.

  I sit down on the small black stool and eye the poured drink ruefully. There’s no fucking way I can have another one, not when I don’t even feel like I have limbs anymore.

  “Hey.”

  A timid, feminine voice filters through the bullshit blasting on the speakers, and I turn my head to the left.

  Wow.

  It’s like a mirage. A stunning girl sits on the stool next to mine. It takes a while for me to get the details of her into focus, like the white spaghetti-strap tank top she’s wearing, and the little red flowers decorating it. Her tits are perky and I have to resist the urge to look at her cleavage. She makes my cock throb. I look down her thin waist to the jeans sticking to her ass like skin and then back to her face. Long, highlighted blonde hair brushes her slight, feminine shoulders. She has a vulnerable look about her that is completely at odds with her amazing body. Her eyes are wide and blue, and there’s a small dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks. A girl like her should be brimming with confidence, but instead she plays with her glass, her rose-painted fingernails running up the sides incessantly. It’s my job to notice people’s weaknesses. To assess and exploit. It’s my bread and butter, so to speak. This girl screams “inexperienced,” and my dick jumps at the thought of being the one to break her—to shove my cock inside her tight pussy and watch her shatter as I take her wide-eyed innocence.

  “Hey, sexy.” Goddamn it, I’m still drunk as hell.

  Thankfully she just smiles at me, laughter all over her face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Hello.

  “Oh, that’s one thing I already know.”

  She laughs, a bell-like sound. “Do you want to have a drink with me?”

  You can do anything you want to me, baby.

  I study her jittering ankle. She’s nervous. That’s cute. A smile spreads across my face, and I beckon to her with a finger. “Come here.”

  Pink rises in her cheeks as she hesitantly slides off the stool and takes a few steps toward me. I grab her wrist and yank her forward so that her body stumbles and then I pull her over my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck with a surprised gasp.

  “I’d rather have a taste of you.”

  For a moment she just eye-fucks me as the tiny freckles dotting her nose burn. My hands snake around her waist and I feel the heat of her burning through the thin fabric of her camisole.

  “That’s a pretty good line.”

  “Give me a fucking kiss.”

  I love feeling the weight of her on my lap. Her hair tickles my skin as she leans forward, her pale lips hovering over my face. Sweetness flows over my tongue as I catch her bottom lip, crushing my mouth against hers. A spicy, ginger smell wafts from her hair, which is as smooth as silk. There’s nothing like having a gorgeous woman on your lap. Nothing like having a gorgeous naked woman on your lap, playing with your clothes and ready to do your bidding. Fuck, my slacks tighten just thinking about it. I want to feel her smooth skin gliding in my hands, and I want her to feel my rock-hard cock riding against her bare ass. Thank God I don’t get whiskey dick.

  She pulls away from me before I can stick my tongue down her throat. I watch how she sucks in breath through those small pink lips that I’d love to see wrapped around my cock. She’s close enough to kiss again. Close enough to do anything I want, which is to drag my tongue down her neck to her milky cleavage.

  Look at her tits. Do it.

  But I force myself to hold her gaze. My heart does a small flip when her lips pull away, revealing a row of white, even teeth. Damn, she has a beautiful smile.

  “You’re a very good kisser.”

  Blood pounds in my head, my vision still swimming wit
h booze. “There are a lot of other things I’m good at. Want me to show you?”

  A laughing, sweet smile fills her face, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Let’s have a drink.”

  Disappointment settles in my guts and then I realize that she just wants to talk bullshit for a while so that she feels less bad about her one-night stand.

  “I can’t have another drink. Look at me.”

  “You don’t look very drunk.”

  “Trust me, I am.”

  But not drunk enough to not see how the skin on top of her breast jumps with her pulse. Or feel the blood pounding through my cock. Elle est belle en tabarnak. I only have half an hour before I have to leave, and I have to fuck this girl. For fuck’s sake, she made the first move. This should be easy.

  “But I can still give you the best night of your fucking life.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I’ll make your toes curl, baby.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’ll fill you up until you scream. You’ll never feel so sore and good after a night with my cock.”

  A few seconds of stunned silence follow my words and then I turn my head to kiss that throbbing vein in her neck. Her nails dig into me ever so slightly.

  Good. I have her.

  She clears her throat. “What makes you think you can even use that cock in your condition?”

  My blood churns at the salty tone in her voice. Fuck, I love girls with attitude. “Babe, I’ve fucked women when I was much more wasted than this.”

  “Yeah?” Her chest flushes with red. “And how many of them want a second time with you?”

  A smile hitches on my face. “All of them.”

  She shakes her head, not believing me.

  I slip my phone out of my slacks, still very conscious of her ass sitting on my lap, right over my cock. I show her my text messages, a dozen or so unread ones with random numbers. I pick one at random:

  OMG that was so hot last night let’s get together again r u free Friday?

  She snorts with laughter and then she goes back, selecting another one: