ROMANCING THE MOB BOSS

by Monroe, Mallory

  Reno saw the change in her expression, the embarrassment, and he immediately felt like a prick. “Look, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I know,” Trina said. “You’re just stunned by the view.” She was too, when she first moved there, but now it didn’t even faze her. “Well, see you later.”

  But he refused. He insisted on walking her to her front door, a door on the fifth floor of the apartment building, and when she unlocked the door, he still didn’t want to just leave.

  “Could I use the bathroom, please?” he asked her.

  Trina was hoping he didn’t ask to come in, her thrift store furnishings would only amplify her state of poverty in his eyes, but she couldn’t let the man pee in his pants, either. Although, she also knew, that was his lame excuse to get in.

  But she liked him, what could she say?

  “Sure,” she said, and opened the door wider to let him in.

  TWO

  The only bathroom was the one inside the only bedroom, and she lifted the bedroom window while he did his thing. The fall breeze was just what she needed after a hard day at Boyzie’s, and she stood at the window, soaking up the breeze, longer than she had planned. When she suddenly felt a presence behind her, she jumped and turned.

  “It’s okay,” Reno’s soft, melodic voice said. “I was just enjoying the view, too.”

  The view was of the backside of the apartment complex, an open field littered with trash, but if you looked beyond the immediate area, there was a magnificent sight of the bright lights of the Las Vegas skyline.

  “Vegas at night,” Reno said. “Ain’t nothing like it.”

  “That’s why I got the place. Sometimes, at night, I pull up a chair and just look out this window for hours.”

  “I believe it. It’s beautiful. It’s Vegas.”

  “Yeah. A long way from Dale.”

  “Dale? What’s Dale?”

  Trina smiled. “Dale, Mississippi. My hometown.”

  Reno laughed. “Mississippi? A Mississippi girl.” He looked down the length of her, at her long, smooth legs, her tight ass, her bone-thin back and swan-like neck, at her black, silky hair. “I don’t see Mississippi when I see you.”

  Trina smiled. “I’ll bet you don’t see Vegas when you see me, either.”

  “No, not Vegas. More like Paris in the Spring, or Rome in the Fall.”

  Paris? Rome? Trina smiled. Your boy was smooth. She moved away from the window and headed for the living room. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked as she walked.

  Reno smiled, and then began to follow her. He was losing his touch. “Sure, why not,” he said. “What you got?”

  “Water,” Trina said with a grin.

  “Water? What I look like a kid to you? You can hold your water.”

  Trina laughed. “And wine,” she said.

  “Now you’re talking,” he said as she continued to laugh and made her way to the kitchen.

  Reno walked around the small living room. It was neat, clean, and with only the bare minimum of furnishings that let him know not only was she poor, she was also very thrifty. Very smart with the little money she did have, very efficient.

  Then he thought about her. Probably never got a break in her life. Probably always had to take a backseat to females who weren’t as smart, weren’t as kind, didn’t have an ounce of the talent, of the ingenuity he just knew she had. Kid like her shouldn’t have to live like this.

  He looked out of the living room window. And talk about a contrasting view. This was a view of the front side of the apartment building, the street side, and man was it loud and raucous and, Reno thought with some degree of anxiety, dangerous. Very dangerous, he thought, as he surveyed the drug dealers and crack heads, the prostitutes and pimps. This was no place for a lady like her.

  Trina returned with two glasses of wine and the bottle too, to make it clear to him he was not about to consume any Cristal or Courvoisier or Cognac or whatever the hell he drank. Because whatever he was accustomed to drinking, she was certain it wasn’t what she was about to give him.

  She sat the bottle on the table, and would not be at all embarrassed if he checked the label. But he didn’t even look at it.

  She gave him his glass of wine, kept her own, and they both sat side by side on the sofa. She tucked one of her legs underneath her butt, and he turned toward her and crossed his legs as he unbuttoned his suit coat. He definitely was a distinguished looking gentleman, Trina thought, with everything about him screaming power and success.

  And he also had a magnetism about him, a kind of supercharged sexual energy that Trina couldn’t ignore. She tried to, she tried to just sit back and enjoy a drink with this man, but her eyes kept betraying her, and kept glancing down at his bulge.

  And they talked. For hours they talked. Trina liked the fact that she had company tonight, somebody interesting to talk to for a change. She was usually home alone most nights, unless Jazz, her only friend in town, would come over.

  And she was glad that it wasn’t just any company. She could grab some dude off the street, or out of Boyzie’s, if any company would do. In the couple years since she’d been in Vegas, she’d had a few dates with that any company type where she was horny as hell and gave this guy or that one a chance.

  But they’d usually end up so boring to her, so cookie-cutter ready to wham, bam, thank-you ma’am her, that she didn’t even give it up to many of them. They weren’t worth the effort it took to take off her clothes, she would decide, and would bid them goodnight. They didn’t like it, they had thought it was understood that their date was strictly for getting laid purposes, but they had no choice in the matter. She’d kick them out. It wasn’t a debatable point.

  But say what you want about Dominic Gabrini, she thought, smiling as he talked on and on about growing up in Jersey and eventually moving to Vegas, this guy was a long way from boring.

  “So it was your mother, your father, and your baby brother Joey,” she said. “That’s it? I thought Italian families were supposed to be massive.”

  “Well, and two sisters, don’t forget my sisters,” Reno said. “But I know what you’re saying. And I wish our family was bursting at the seams. Especially with boys. I wish pops had a truckload of boys, two truckloads. Then he wouldn’t be bugging me so much about taking . . .”

  Reno didn’t finish. He, instead, exhaled. “But forget about me. I’m tired of talking about me. Tell me about you. Tell me about Tree Hathaway.”

  By now Trina was a little buzzed by her numerous shots of wine and was leaned back and super-relaxed. But she smiled at his reference. “It’s Katrina,” she corrected him. “Or Trina. I knew I should have never mentioned Tree to you. I’m gonna start calling you Dominic, which I’m sure you don’t prefer, either.”

  Reno smiled as he leaned back further too, a little closer to her, her large breasts poking upward in a magnificent bunch, with her remarkable cleavage almost touching his face. He loved the view. “Talk to me,” he said. “You from Mississippi?”

  “Yup. Born and raised. My parents were very strict, very religious, you know. They wanted a good little nun-type daughter, but instead got me.”

  Reno laughed. “So you was a rebel?”

  “They would say so. I just never fit into their image. I went to church, I believe in God, but my lifestyle just never jelled with theirs.”

  “You’re an only child?”

  “One and only. Which didn’t help, either.”

  “Still close to your parents?”

  “Never was close to them. We talk every blue moon, few times a year, but I just pretty much do my own thing.”

  “You only get one mother and one father,” Reno said. “It ain’t good to keep your parents out of your life.”

  “You don’t know my parents.”

  “They just probably wanted the best for you, can you blame them? If I had a daughter like you, I’d want to keep her under lock and key too.”

  Trina smiled. “But they
just took it too far, man. And I ain’t no innocent, either. I overreacted, yes I did, and started doing the exact opposite of what they wanted me to do. But it is what it is now.”

  Reno looked at her. He could see the street in her, the bad girl big time, but he could also see a goodness about her, a her own woman kind of independence, that made him even more attracted to her. “So tell me this: what makes a kid from Mississippi come all this way to Vegas?”

  Trina didn’t miss a beat. “A man, what else?” she said.

  Although Reno smiled and appreciated her honesty, he suddenly didn’t like the picture. He suddenly became concerned that this man might still be in the frame. “So you followed home boy here?” he asked her.

  “Yep. Well, not here. Not to Vegas, but to Reno.” Then she smiled. “Your name, Reno, right? But that’s where we landed. Reno, Nevada. He had a cousin who worked in a casino there and they were supposed to hook him up with a job.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Jeffrey Graham. He was from Dale, too.”

  “Are you guys still together?”

  Trina shook her head. “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he got on drugs, started messing around with those show girls at the casino. But what’s crazy was that I still stayed with his ass.”

  “That wasn’t crazy. You were scared, a long way from home. He was all you knew.”

  Trina looked at Reno, at this obviously successful businessman. What would he know about that? “Yeah, well, whatever the reason I stayed with him. But when he decided he wanted a punching bag, and I was as good a target as any, I punched back and got the hell out. And ended up here, in Vegas.”

  What she didn’t mention was that, after she left the boy from Dale, she remained in Reno and eventually hooked up with another guy, Scotty Labaray, who ended up far worse than her hometown boy could ever be. In the middle of the night, while Scotty was asleep, she fled.

  “Heard from him since you left?” Reno asked and his question spooked her, as if he’d just heard her inner thoughts about Scotty.

  She looked at him. “Who?” she asked.

  “Who? Whadda ya’ mean who? Dale boy, this Jeffrey Graham character, who else?”

  “Oh. No. We don’t talk.”

  Reno nodded his head, a smile creasing his attractive face. “Good,” he said.

  “Why is it good?”

  Reno looked at her, took his hand and slanted her bang from off of her forehead. Her perfectly formed forehead, he noticed. “Because I like to know who my competition is,” he said.

  Trina stared at him, at how his natural lashes were so long and thick, at how his eyes were so blue, at how his aristocratic nose and wide lips and strong, wider than average jaw-line made for such a dazzling combination. And she felt intoxicated, and not just because of the wine. “What competition,” she asked him.

  Reno moved closer still. His manhood beginning to throb. “Every red-blooded American male who has ever walked the face of this earth is my competition, because every one of them would want you.”

  Trina smiled. Talk about a smooth operator, she thought, but Reno didn’t even crack a smile. He had his lust on big-time, even Trina could see that, and it was consuming him. There was nothing funny about this. He wanted her. He looked at her deep-toned velvety skin, ran his finger along the smooth texture of it, at her gorgeous, big hazel eyes that contrasted beautifully with her black skin, at her full lips that suddenly parted by reflex, as if they knew what he was aiming to do.

  And he did it. He kissed her. He hadn’t planned to do this. He would flirt with her, set a date with her, and then make his move. She was cynical, and classy, and wouldn’t take kindly to dudes too quick to want her in bed. But he couldn’t help himself. He wanted her in bed and he wanted her in bed here and now. And, he thought, as his kissing became more passionate, he wanted her in bed on the next date, too.

  He pulled her into his arms as he kissed her, and kept moving her closer, so much so that he pulled her half onto his lap in a kind of cradling position. And his kissing intensified.

  Trina had no plans whatsoever for it to go this far. She was just beginning to like him. Why he had to do a thing like this! Now she wanted it too, and wouldn’t be able to resist his pull. And she didn’t resist, as he began to kiss her cleavage, as he began to loosen the buttons on her blouse, then the front latch of her bra. When he opened wide her blouse and bra and her large breasts spilled out like two juicy melons, he lost all pretense of control.

  He kept kissing and sucking until he was laying her on the sofa, until he was unzipping his pants, until his manhood was so massive that it strained to break free. It broke free, so large that it curved, so ready to enter her that he didn’t even consider a condom. He wanted her raw. He had to feel her.

  Trina knew they were treading on dangerous waters in every sense of the word. And when she felt his manhood rubbing against her, and saw it, saw how huge it was, how juicy, she began to lose all control, too. He slung off her panties as she kicked off her shoes, as he dropped his pants and underwear down to his ankles. And as badly as he wanted to enter her, she wanted him in even worse. It had been too damn long for her. Now it was tortuous.

  He entered her. He slid that massive rod into her with the deftness of a pro from way back, and her head lobbed backwards, as she took him in, as she felt the expanse of him stretch her nearly to her breaking point. And he started to pound.

  Neither one of them wanted to take it easy, to play it safe, to be like responsible adults and ease their way to a climax. To hell with ease. They wanted it hard.

  Especially Reno, who felt a shock of electricity every time he pounded her. It felt so good to him, so unbelievably incredible to him that he actually wondered if his heart could take it.

  And when the release came, it came like an explosion, ripping deep down through both of them, and Reno screamed out, the veins in his neck exposed, the excitement in his heart making him almost drunk with the possibilities.

  He collapsed on top of her, as it all poured out, his manhood still deep within her. And then he found the strength somehow to take her into his arms and roll over until she was the one on top of him.

  As soon as he reversed it, as soon as he was bearing her weight, he collapsed again, all manner of energy and vitality gone from every inch of his very drained, but very gratified athletic body.

  THREE

  For nearly an hour they lay there, her on top of him, as he stroked her naked butt and lulled her into a peaceful, relaxing sleep. She didn’t wake up again until she could feel him standing up with her still in his arms, stepping out of his pants and boxers that hovered around his ankles, and carried her into her bedroom.

  When he turned down her covers, laid her on the sheets, and then disappeared into her adjacent bathroom, she was by then wide awake. And widely disgusted with herself. What had she just done, she kept asking herself. Was she out of her mind? Had she really allowed a virtual stranger, a man she didn’t really know from jack, to not only have sex with her, but to have unprotected sex with her? Had she been that sex-starved? Had she been that desperate to get that man’s penis up her ass that she’d lost her good sense?

  When he returned from the bathroom carrying a wet cloth, his long penis dangling against his hard, muscular thigh, she knew she was insane, that she had no good sense whatsoever, because she wanted him inside her again.

  Reno wanted in again, too, as soon as he reentered the bedroom carrying a warm cloth and saw her gorgeous brown body lying there, naked but for her wide-open blouse. But when he saw that bewildered look in her big, hazel eyes, he knew he had to be cautious. Last thing in this world he wanted to do was scare her away, or spook her into thinking he could be anything like the dude she had left Mississippi with.

  He sat on the edge of her bed and smiled down at her. “Hello, sleepy head,” he said.

  She looked away from him, with a frown on her face. “What time is it?” she ask
ed him.

  “Around three a.m.,” he said. “Why, you got a meeting to go to?”

  Trina found herself smiling. His so sweet voice could be a drug to her. She looked at him. “No, no meeting,” she said.

  By now, however, he was staring at her body, at her nakedness, and all smiles were gone. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he said, his eyes slowly moving up her body until he was looking into her eyes.

  “I’m all right,” she said, although she wasn’t above being pleased by his admiration.

  “All right?” he said. “Did you say all right? That’s like saying Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel is all right. That’s like saying Sinatra singing Fly Me To the Moon backed up by Duke Ellington’s band and Quincy Jones’ arrangement is all right. Yeah, I got your all right.”