Son of a Mobster (Criminal Desires)

by Jennie Lyne Hiott

  “Do you always greet your guests with this much warmth?” The leather clad ruffian didn’t blink, nor did he appear affected by my malicious welcome. “You got a beer in there?”

  I let the gun fall to my side, turned and walked inside. I collected a beer from the cooler sitting near the couch and tossed it to him.

  “How about that job?” The visitor growled.

  “Not hiring,” I replied. “I got a full staff right now. I guess you wasted your time.”

  “No.” The large man sat down and placed his boots on the glass table before he was invited. “I’m not talking about a job in your club.”

  I chuckled. I opened my mouth to respond, but the hooligan held a finger to his lip. I watched him pull open his leather jacket and take a small, radio like box from inside. He jerked a wire from it, then relaxed.

  We smiled with knowing grins.

  “How you been, Jackson?”

  “Better than you, little brother.” Jackson stood and crossed the room and we shared a manly hug.

  We were half-brothers, sharing a mother, but never a home since Adrian had sent Jackson away before our mother had exited the morgue.

  “Are you cross dressing now?” He nodded at the dress I still held.

  “What makes you think I’m doing any less than great?” I responded and forced a fake smile as I slumped into a plush cushion and tossed the dress onto the back.

  “I’ve never known you to beat down a cop in open territory and leave him breathing.” He slapped a few empty bottles from the table. “I told you to lay off the booze.”

  “You don’t normally visit, Jackson. Are you serious about coming to work for me?”

  “I already have a job. In fact, I’ve landed a job with the JBI and I am currently undercover.”

  “Oh yeah? Who do they have you watching?”

  Jackson laughed an evil laugh and tipped his bottle towards me. “You.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  My older brother had only entered law enforcement for the sole purpose of protecting me. It amused and baffled us that The Bureau had never become wise to such obvious information.

  “I’m supposed to become your right hand man and bring you down.” Jackson chuckled, having no true conformity to my vocation. If anything he was one the department’s most insubordinate employees.

  “They’re idiots. So, what do I need to do?”

  “Just give me a job and you can pretty much play this however you want.”

  “I think I’m going to like this new game.”

  “It’s real hilarious, but about that cop, you beat up –”

  “Should I be worried?”

  “Not if Cornell has his way. This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed Cornell attempt to defend you. Why would he do that?”

  I stared out the mirror and watched the room below fill with employees.

  “I really wish you would give up that badge.” I frowned as I watched Spencer pocket a handful of twenties from the register. “Then I could get rid of that …”

  It amazed me how that woman could still walk into the room and tie my tongue, making me forget every notion.

  “Get rid of what?” Jackson joined me at the window and followed my gaze that was settled on Jessie.

  “Sean, there is something you should know.”

  “I’m glad you’ll be around. It will help the transition go a bit smoother.”

  “What transition?”

  “Later. We better wrap this up.”

  A man in a trench coat stood too still with his eyes moving too quickly from one part of the room to the other. How long he had been there, I didn’t know, but his purpose was obvious. Time was up and Bolivar was lurking. “Hook it up.” I watched as Jackson reconnected his wire, and then gave a thumbs up.

  “Okay, Buddy. I’ll give you a shot, but don’t make me sorry I did.”

  “Whatever. Where do I start?”

  “Just stick by the guy at the door. Do what he does and do what he says.”

  The night rolled on without me as I watched from my perch. Men, some still wearing the filth of their jobs, piled in along with prominent faces that attempted to hide in the shadows and soon, I couldn’t see the red carpet beneath the crowd.

  A few bachelor parties were the culprit, which was not out of the ordinary for a weekend, but I had never seen more than two on the same night before. I sighed and tipped my glass to the men who didn’t know how lucky they were.

  Jessie graced the room several times, moving like a gazelle through clouds of smoke, which outlined her as if she were stepping out of a fog, her long hair swaying with her actions, covering her bare back, then teasing with a glimpse as she rushed into the back room.

  Soon, she would dance. I loved to watch but hated the audience had the same privilege. Needing the wall for support so I could trip down the stairs, I emerged from seclusion and parked my frame at the end of the bar.

  “How long have they been here?” The table in front of the stage sobered me instantly. Bolivar and his crew were too close to the stage for my liking. Too close when Jessie was about to dazzle the room.

  “Hell, I don’t know. You think I got nothing to do but watch these bums.” Spencer, smart mouthed as always replied, and sneakily slipped another bill into his tight fitting pants.

  “Put it back.” I kept my back turned and my eyes on Bolivar but knew what the lackey would do. “All of it.”

  “I just needed a small loan. That’s all.” The shorter man’s excuse accompanied a tone that showed no remorse.

  “I don’t recall you asking. That makes it stealing.”

  “So, can I borrow a couple Franklins?”

  I chuckled at the man’s gull. “I wouldn’t even give you a Lincoln. Pour me a shot – dumbass.”

  I couldn’t be in a bad mood with Jessie on the stage. Her song echoed every feeling I felt, telling about a love as elusive as the wind. Tearing through me. Burning me, then stealing my heart. Every word cut me like a knife. Her body swayed gracefully. Her bare feet seeming to float across the stage, but her lips frowned. She was more exotic than ever.

  I smiled when I thought about how she had finally gotten use to her job, but it also made me sad because I knew she still didn’t belong there. I wanted to grab her from the stage, tear her from the public’s eye and keep her all to myself.

  At the base of the stage, Bolivar watched her with a grin, yelling insults about the slow removal of her clothes. My rival wasn’t alone in his complaints, but his were the only ones that I wanted to silence. With great restraint, I kept my distance. Giving away my affection for Jessie to Bolivar would only make her a pawn in the middle of our game.

  Slowly, the buttons of her short sundress fell apart, revealing her perfectly toned middle. Bolivar called her with a folded bill and she danced his way. She bent her knees to the floor, leaned forward and allowed the short man to slip it into her bra and then his thumb brushed against the outline of her breast.

  I closed my eyes as the man’s hand lingered too close. Bolivar’s tip brought more than anger, but jealousy as well and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jessie returned Bolivar’s lust.

  She had made it clear that she belonged to another man, perhaps my enemy was that man and I wondered how and why? I’d worried that she was some kind of spy, but maybe she was decoy of some kind – only not for the organization I had suspected.

  She smiled for him. She lingered too long. Whispering causing him to smile. A pain shot through my heart with every move of her lips. I longed for an answer as she had stood. Bolivar ran his hand up and down her leg. He took hold of her dress, caressed it between his fingertips for a moment, and just as she moved away he yanked it, causing the straps to break and the dress fell to her feet. Bolivar proceeded to pluck her from the stage and I instantly knew she wanted no part of the man’s affection.

  I tried to refrain; hoping Matt and Jackson would fight their way through the crowd and get to her without my involvement
.

  Jessie fought back, shoving Carl Bolivar bringing laughs from the other guests and me as well.

  Bolivar snickered at her blow, plucked her dress from the floor and held it high in the air and hollered. The other men cheered and he celebrated as though he had pulled off a triumphant victory by disrobing her.

  Obviously embarrassed, Jessie delivered an echoing slap to Bolivar’s cheek, wiping the smile from his lips and angering the beast in the process, but his expression didn’t affect her and she dared to leave a matching imprint on his other cheek.

  “You slut!” Bolivar grabbed for her arm, but she moved quick, dipped low and swept his feet from under him in an almost trained manner.

  Her actions didn’t keep Bolivar off his feet long and he returned to strike her with a closed fist, knocking her to the floor.

  I lost my fight then, taking long strides to defend her, knowing Bolivar would take extreme measures to make her pay for humiliating him.

  My enemy reached inside his jacket and I knew the plan. Quickly, I parted the crowd, grabbed Carl’s arm and twisted it behind his back until I heard it snap, making a pistol drop from his grasp and hit the floor.

  My extremely intoxicated rival swung his good arm, I ducked and countered with a hard punch to the gut causing him to double over.

  “You just dug your own grave, Gianetti.” Bolivar’s friends moved to help, but Jackson stood in their path. The crazy biker motioned them to come forward, daring them. My brother always itched for a reason to fight.

  “I thought I told you that it’s against the rules to touch the dancers in my club, Bolivar?” I screamed while I towered over the groaning man.

  “I knew she was your whore.” Bolivar laughed hysterically with his pain.

  “What did you say?” I placed the barrel of my gun to Bolivar’s forehead, my temper shattered while the club emptied of terrified patrons. My love for Jessie no longer hidden.

  “Go ahead, pull it,” Bolivar antagonized. “I dare you.”

  Jessie let out a surprised cry and I whirled around to find her in the clutches of one of Bolivar’s mules.

  “Time’s up, Sean. Did you really think there was something we didn’t know about you?” He snickered, holding his broken arm, grimacing in pain, but still managing to spew brash statements. “We know where you go. How long you’re there. I know where your girlfriend and little sister are at all times. Yes, Sean, I know how hard you tried to hide your feelings from everyone, including her but, it didn’t go unnoticed by my father. Shoot, my old man even knows how much of that brown liquor you sip on.”

  “Ugh!” I heard a moan behind me. Oww!”

  Jessie had unsuspectingly stomped on her captor’s foot, escaping quickly.

  Keeping my sights set on Bolivar, I took a step back, grasped her hand and protectively pulled her close.

  “Seems to me that my only problem is you, Bolivar,” I snarled. “The last time you threatened someone close to me, you left with a headache, this time, you lost your arm. What makes you and your old man think you are winning this argument?”

  “Maybe you need more persuading.” Suddenly, guns were drawn. Man for man. My guys were slightly outnumbered and I was forced to divide my attention between Carl and the new threat on my right.

  I pulled Jessie tighter to my side, backing slowly towards the private room that would give us quick refuge.

  “Take her!”

  “If I touches her, you’re dead.” I pulled back the hammer on my pistol, but Carl didn’t retract. Instead, continued a crazy, pain laced laugh.

  “Come on, Sean.” Bolivar pulled a semi-automatic from beneath his coat. “If you’re a good boy in the next thirty days, you might get her back.”

  “That’s not a deal, Carl,” I bellowed. “You’ll have to kill me to get to her and we both know your father wouldn’t be happy about that.”

  Again Carl answered with a laugh. “My father’s not the one who wants you alive.” He cursed, holding his arm close as he shortened the gap. “I’m beginning to see his point and she will die right along with you. So choose, Sean. Do you want her alive – in our hands – or buried in a hole beside you?”

  I felt Jessie’s embrace beneath my jacket and I gave her a quick squeeze to reassure her, but soon realized that she wasn’t seeking comfort. It was the hidden back-up that resided in the waistband of my pants she desired. It surprised me, but it wouldn’t show in my eyes.

  “Make your choice, Gianetti.”

  He had moved too close and I had never been one to negotiate. All it would take was one little phrase. My men knew the plan. They waited, they watched, they listened, but they wouldn’t make a move until it was uttered.

  “Hey, Carl – Live in the moment.”

  Instantly, bullets flew and opponents were unarmed, their wounds only slight, but enough to warn them, leaving Carl on his own.

  Jessie still at my side, my weapon securely in her delicate hand, brought a smile to my lips. I felt a tingle surge through my body and I was turned on in an unfamiliar fashion.

  “Now it’s your turn to choose. Do you want to exit my club on two legs, or in a body bag?” Carl dropped his weapon in defeat, the hand of his good arm stayed in view as he collected his bodyguards and backed toward the door.

  “Clocks still ticking, Sean,” He made one last attempt to threaten.

  “Whenever you feel lucky, old friend.”

  De’Bris door swung closed, shutting out the streetlights and the would-be assassin. I turned to Jessie and kissed her. Lovingly. Longingly. Passionately. Her fighting by my side had created a new kind of desire, a new possibility.

  “You and I need to have a serious discussion.” Humor twinkled in my eyes, but hers were dark and unreadable.

  I took her hand and led her up the narrow stairway behind the bar and shut the door behind us. I wanted her alone – completely alone.

  “Don’t, Sean.” She blocked my next kiss, shook her head then laid what she had taken in my hand.

  My smile faded and a serious frown returned.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “That was an impressive shot.” I backed away, stood by my desk and poured two glasses of whiskey. “Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

  “We all have our secrets, right?”

  I nodded and took a sip of my drink and gazed at the red dress that I had left in a heap on my desk. I knew all I needed to go and I had grown weary of the game we had been playing. Only one obstacle stood in my way and I found myself unwilling to remain patient when the remedy laid in my desk drawer.

  I stood watching her continue to hold her torn rag to her chest, hiding her body from me, even after she had stood beside me in battle. Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine and finally, she sat on the sofa, crossed her long, elegant legs and ignored me completely.

  I growled. Contradicting feelings at war with in me until there was nothing left to hold back the demon inside me. My lust for her had become and illness and I reached for the cure, discreetly planted it in her glass, and then carried it to her.

  I waited patiently.

  She emptied her glass once, twice and I refilled it with liquor, but the one tiny, blue pill had been enough. Mixed with the alcohol, she soon laid her head back and closed her eyes.

  “I think I should go. Tina’s probably waiting.” She stood and swayed.

  Slowly, I approached her, gently traced her arm until I touched her hand, removing the diamond from her finger and tossing it away.

  “You don’t want to be with that other guy.” I growled in her ear. “You want to be with me. I can see it in your eyes.”

  I lifted her arms, making her torn dress fall. My lips grazed her neck as I presented her with the red dress, then slipped it over her body. I took a moment to gaze, then picked up a remote from the nearby glass coffee table and pointed it.

  We shared a passionate kiss as the wall moved and mechanically drifted downward, revealing a bed that had laid dormant for decades. I guided
her to it and let my lust take over.

  THIRTY

  (Jessie)

  SEAN’S TOUCH WAS INTOXICATING AND he seemed to have a particular fondness for the red dress which he inched away from my tingling skin slowly. His kisses trailed as he slipped the dress upward, his tongue slightly teased and his touch provoked chills. I couldn’t remember a time I had felt more relaxed, more at ease and so intimately aroused.

  His palm spanned my entire abdomen and he watched intently as he drove it upwards until he was between my breasts, then slowly, retraced the path and I returned his lust, unable to summon enough strength physically to slip away, but I knew we had to stop. It was wrong on so many levels.

  “Sean?”

  “Please, don’t deny me, Jessie” he pleaded in my ear. He touched every intimate part, his whispers brainwashed me and a rebellious soft moan escaped when he touched the tip of his instrument intimately against me; gliding it until I became wet, then he kissed my lips and I gasped as we became one. Heat rose through my body and inside I reprimanded it for betraying me.

  He pulled my leg slightly upwards and drove himself deeper, causing my back to arch. My insubordinate arms clung to him, my moans caused him to quicken his pace and I was helpless beneath him, a slave willing to please him any way that he wished and my silent objections remained unexecuted, despite my best effort.

  Our love making was interrupted when the door suddenly burst open. My eyes lifted. I felt sick to my stomach and completely ashamed of the sin I had committed the moment Jackson halted his steps, scowling with disbelief and disgust, but Sean didn’t share in my embarrassment, remaining on top of me and only temporarily ceasing his thrusts while he questioned Jackson’s intrusion.

  “Well?” Sean impatiently demanded the silent thug to explain.

  “I just thought you might want to look out your window,” Jackson growled and pointed to the large picture window that filled one entire wall of the office.

  Sean let out an irate growl, lifted himself from me and exited the bed without attempting to conceal his nakedness.

  I held a sheet to my bodice and watched him fling open a curtain.