Filthy: A Mafia Romance

by Zoey Parker

  He was watching us. Watching me as I was fucked into oblivion. And while he remained motionless—except for his eyes, which moved with us—I thought his slacks looked a little tight. He was enjoying this, too.

  Jerking my gaze away, I caught sight of Ethan again. He was staring down at me hungrily, his eyes wild with lust, his skin flushed with exertion and arousal. “Fuck, you’re a pretty little thing,” he said to me in a strained voice. “All softness and curves. Perfect to hold on to.”

  But he’s not holding on to me, I thought a split second before he said, “So fucking hold on.”

  I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but a loud groan escaped my lips instead. It should have embarrassed me, but I was too far gone, lost in his thrusting hips and the way his hardness stretched me open.

  “Grab your tits,” he ordered me. “Squeeze ‘em for me.”

  I didn’t even bother fighting or ignoring his order. Instead, my hands reached up and fondled my breasts. I squeezed them as he asked, flesh spilling out of my hands which were too small to really hold them.

  He groaned. “That’s it. Now pinch your nipples.”

  I grabbed my own nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, rolling them until they were hard pebbles, then I pinched.

  He hummed appreciatively. “Good. Now move lower.”

  I licked my lips, then let my right hand slide away from my breast, down over my ribs. Pausing there, I waited for the next order. I knew it would come.

  “Lower,” he demanded at the same time he shoved his entire length into my body. I cried out and he groaned. “Lower!” he told me again, forcibly.

  I moved my hand down to my navel.

  “Lower.”

  I swallowed. His voice had become little more than a deep growl, a rumble in his sculpted chest. My hand shook as I let it slide over my mound. I left it there between our bodies, not quite touching his throbbing cock as it continued to piston into my body.

  But that wasn’t low enough for him and as he grinned down at me wickedly, it finally clicked what he wanted. “Touch your clit until you come.”

  I opened my mouth to protest. It was one thing to make me do this, but that didn’t mean I had to come.

  His grin widened—the devil’s own smile. “Do it or I’ll fuck you until you’re raw. I’ll come and you’ll just have to stay here until I’m hard and ready again. I’ll use your body over and over until you finally give in and lose yourself while I’m inside of you. I don’t care how you want to do this. I’ll get what I want one way or another. And what I want is for you to come.”

  I was angry with him for putting me in this position, and I was enthralled by his dirty words, his hard body, and the forceful way he claimed my body. So I relented. I let my hand slip lower, dipping just barely between my swollen folds. I found the little nub instantly and a tiny touch with the pad of my finger was enough to make me scream, “Fuck!”

  He groaned and started moving even faster, his hips colliding with mine as he pumped his hard length inside of me. “That’s it, baby. Come. Spill all over my dick. I want it and I want it now.”

  They shouldn’t have affected me like they did, his words and demands. But they did. They sent me spiraling into an orgasm that was like an explosion. It swallowed me, leaving me shuddering with pleasure so intense that for a moment I wasn’t even there. I was gone somewhere else, my vision gone, my body nothing but a burning ball of light.

  And when I came back, I couldn’t even make myself care that Ethan Chambers was cooing little nothings in my ear as he spasmed into me three more times before pulling out and spilling himself across my stomach.

  Suddenly, there was silence. The only sound filling the room was my hammering heartbeat and Ethan’s spent panting.

  Then he slid off me and turned around. I took a moment to appreciate the hard muscles of his back, the firmness of his rear, and those long, well-defined legs. Then the bastard spoke.

  “Now go. Our transaction is done for today. I’ve got your number and I’ll give you a call when the next one is due.”

  And like that, disgust ran back over me like a river. How in the hell had I honestly forgotten that this was Ethan Chambers and I’d just traded my own body for his “protection”?

  I’m a terrible person, I thought as I sat up and slid to the edge of the desk. I was still covered in Ethan’s…stuff and that didn’t exactly make me feel better about anything. I looked around for something to clean myself off with, but there was nothing. Not even a paper towel. And Ethan didn’t seem particularly eager to help me out with that.

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I spotted my panties from when he’d thrown them. They’d gotten hung up on the corner of the desk in his hurry. They’ll do, I thought glumly and snatched them up. I used the sparse fabric to wipe up his mess, then threw them promptly in the trash. Ethan watched me, his expression amused.

  I grabbed my pants then and shimmied them on. I was grateful that my bra was fine and happily slipped that on. Being covered made me feel a little better, but not much. My blouse came on next and I just grabbed my shoes; I’d put them on in the hall. When I reached the door, Ethan called to me, “Louis will escort you out.”

  I cringed, shooting a nasty sideways glance to the large man that had been fine watching as I was forced to have sex with his boss.

  Fucking asshole.

  “Don’t bother. I remember the way,” I told the pair of them. Then I stepped outside and slammed the door behind me as hard as I could. I made it two steps before sliding down against the wall, tears sliding down my face. “What did you do?” I whispered to myself. I took some deep breaths.

  Then I wiped away my tears, pulled on my boots, and stormed out of there like I had a shred of dignity left.

  Chapter 8

  I spent the rest of the day not at home. It was easy to tell Jessie I needed to work some things out at The Cut and that I needed her to watch Cody. Since she had the day off anyway, she said it was no problem. She was the best and I felt a little bad about lying to her about what I was doing.

  “You sure you want another?” asked the pretty bartender who looked like she was either five years younger or older than her makeup suggested.

  I nodded, my head lolling heavily. “It’s been a rough day,” was all I told her. And when I said “day” I meant morning. It wasn’t even noon when had I walked into the bar, the only one in town that was open.

  She smiled at me sympathetically. “I hear you. Sometimes a stiff whiskey’s the only thing that’ll cure what ails you.”

  I raised the shot she’d just poured to that, then downed it in one gulp. It still burned a little as it went down, but it was getting a little easier with each one. “I shouldn’t be here,” I told her bluntly. “I should not be wasting money on this crap.” Then I felt bad about calling this stuff crap and apologized. “Sorry. This is your job.”

  She laughed at me. “It’s all right, honey. I get it. And it is crap. It’s the good stuff, but all alcohol is crap in the end.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. That’s smart.”

  She shook her head a little at me. “You wanna talk about it?”

  I felt some of the whiskey try to make its way back up my throat. Did I want to talk about it? Hell no. Not if it was my judgement day and I was standing in front of the pearly white gates and the only way to get in was to confess my sins. I would take it to the grave and ride the one way ticket to hell before I spoke of what happened in Ethan’s office this morning.

  “Life sucks,” I told her instead, then I let my head rest on the counter. “And it sucked before, too.”

  “Sorry, sweetie,” the lady told me seriously. “I really do feel for you, but you know you can’t sleep here. That’s the rule, eleven am or eleven pm.”

  With effort I lifted my head up again. “Sorry. You probably don’t have to say that this early in the day very often, do you?”

  She shook her head. “Not usually, no. Look, why don’t I call you a cab?”


  I frowned. “I have my car.”

  Raising an eyebrow at me, she said, “And I know you weren’t thinking of driving it, because a smart lady like you doesn’t need any more trouble, right?”

  It felt like my mind was trying to process things through molasses, but ultimately I found myself nodding in agreement with her. “Right. A cab would be good.”

  She turned around behind her and picked up the phone, quickly dialing a number. She said a few quick words to the cabbie, then hung up. Turning back to me, she leaned forward and said honestly, “I hope things get better. Just remember, rock’s the bottom. You can only go up from there.”

  I felt like laughing and crying. “Have you ever done something unforgivable?”

  Her expression froze over, and for just a second, I could see the wheels behind her eyes turning, wondering if I was talking about something more than boy trouble. Something like maybe murder. Then her face softened again and she smiled a little ruefully, like she was embarrassed she’d even thought it. “Honey, nothing’s unforgivable. Trick isn’t looking for someone else to forgive you; it’s learning to forgive yourself.”

  I left with those words rolling around in my head, getting all kinds of mixed up. The cabbie dropped me off at my place and I stumbled in through the front door. Thankfully, Cody was coloring in the living room and Jessie caught me before he did.

  “What the hell?” she asked, but she only asked it once. Then she came over and gave me a big hug. “It’ll be okay. Go upstairs. Shower. Take a nap. I’ll stay for a while.”

  I felt tears prick my eyes, more than a little grateful for my friend’s kindness.

  # # #

  Jessie stayed for dinner and a movie afterwards. She babied me through my hungover state and humored Cody who picked up on my not so pleasant mood. But, in all honesty, I was grateful when she went home.

  I tucked Cody into bed, but after I kissed him on the forehead, I nearly cried.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  I bit my lip, then forced a smile. I shook my head. “Nothing, baby. Just go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I love you,” he told me and I parroted it back to him.

  Then I left. I took another shower, the third of the day, and slipped on a big, baggy nightshirt. It was heather gray and fell to my mid-thigh. Normally, I just slept like that, but I was weirded out after first my dream of Ethan, then our tryst that morning. So I pulled on a pair of boy briefs and crawled into bed.

  I had hoped I’d fall asleep almost instantly after that. Head, pillow, sleep, just like that. But instead I found myself staring at the ceiling, wide awake.

  Despite fighting against it, I couldn’t help but think of the devil’s bargain I’d made. It wasn’t my idea, it wasn’t what I’d wanted, but I didn’t have much say in the matter. I tried not to think of the way Ethan touched me, the way we did the deed under the watchful eye of his bodyguard. And I definitely tried not to think of how I’d had the most powerful orgasm I’d probably ever had in my life all because he’d pushed me to it.

  Clenching my eyes shut, I tried counting sheep to fall asleep, and to keep from thinking of Ethan, but it was impossible. My mind kept circling back to him and his wicked deal.

  “What kind of a person am I?” I whispered to the empty room. “What kind of a woman let’s someone—?” I broke off unable to say it even in the privacy of my own room.

  I rolled over in my bed and tried to get comfortable, but it was pointless. There was no spot that would be comfortable enough. I thought of Cody asleep in his room. How was I supposed to be a good mother when I was some beck and call girl for a drug dealer?

  It was worse than just that, though. I wasn’t just some prostitute, which was bad enough, but now I was going to be an accomplice for a man who was going to use my salon to store his drugs. God, I didn’t even know what kinds of drugs they were.

  “What if it’s cocaine?” I asked the ceiling in a hoarse whisper.

  I told myself it didn’t really matter. Drugs were drugs and even if it was just pounds of weed hanging out in the back of my store, it would be a problem. Weed wasn’t legal recreationally and I definitely didn’t have a license to be storing it. But at least I wouldn’t have to worry about people overdosing.

  Overdosing. Jesus, why did I have to think of that?

  I could be an accomplice to murder!

  My heart started beating loud and hard in my chest, anxiety causing my body to warm and my palms to sweat. My skin felt like a live wire all of a sudden and it really hit me just how bad all of this was. I was going to be storing an illicit drug in my store that might or might not cause people—kids, even—to overdose. They could die. I could be partially responsible for the death of kids with brothers and sisters and mothers.

  Pulling the covers up over my head, I clenched my eyes shut and tried not to hyperventilate. I told myself none of this was my fault. I’d done the right thing. If anything, I was a victim here.

  Right?

  Uncertain and feeling worse and worse about the whole thing, I counted sheep.

  Sleep. All I needed was some goddamned sleep.

  Chapter 9

  The next week was a nightmare. I was haggling with the insurance company who didn’t want to cover any of the damage, citing it was my fault for not keeping the electrical wiring up to code. I had my hands full fighting them on it, providing as much official paperwork and photographs as I could get my hands on to prove my shop was up to legal standards.

  Without the insurance money, I had exactly nothing to donate towards removing the debris from the convenience store. Not exactly great for business.

  I pulled the curtain across the divider and cleaned up the register as best I could, but that was about all I could do for the moment. It would be okay for the summer—though I’d already had dozens of customers comment, gossip, and even walk out as a result—but come winter, things would have to change. Nobody wants to come into a freezing shop to get their hair done.

  Thanks to the deal with Ethan, I also had an extra expense. I had to send Cody to a daycare after school because I didn’t want him around The Cut if it was going to have drugs on site.

  What made matters worse was Louis. I’d received several shipments already that week—Ethan started bringing his stock in early Monday morning—and each time they’d come from Louis. Now it was Friday and he came in through the front door, not even batting an eye at the curtain pulled closed over the perfect line of charcoal in my floor. “I have a delivery,” he announced calmly. He was an unshakable man, which made me want to throttle him, but instead I sighed.

  “Jessie? Could you take over for a minute?”

  The lady whose hair I was handling, gave me a startled expression in the mirror she was facing. Jessie was working in The Cut now because I couldn’t bear to fire her, but she didn’t usually handle the stylist side of things. She was more of a phones, cashier, and sales girl. And when she came over, she had the same startled expression as the woman in the chair.

  Leaning closer to me, Jessie asked, “Are you sure?”

  I faked a bright smile at her, handing over a comb. “Of course. You’re just doing a little trimming. Split ends, nothing too sharp or short. You’ll be fine.”

  No one looked comfortable with the situation, but I didn’t have a choice. I might normally let Jessie handle the shipments, but that was when they were legal. Now that I was dealing in whatever drugs Ethan sent my way, I couldn’t afford to let her do that. I wasn’t willing to put her in that kind of position. If she got caught with the drugs, not even knowing what was happening, I would feel awful. And wholly responsible.

  So instead I was handing over a pair of scissors and a comb to someone who didn’t know all that much about styling hair. I was letting her cut this poor woman’s locks and everyone was just going to have to hope for the best.

  When I turned to walk over to Louis, Jessie reached for me again. “We could just wait. I mean, this won�
��t take very long, will it?” She glanced at Louis, then back at me.

  I closed my eyes for a half a second, then forced them open again. I would have told her yes normally, but there was nothing normal about my life anymore. And I knew Louis standing there likely meant more than just a delivery of drugs. “Actually, I may have to duck out for a bit and I know Mrs. Walsh can’t wait for me to get back.” I motioned towards the middle-aged woman in the chair. “I can’t afford for her to reschedule.”

  Jessie frowned. “What is going on with you lately?” she asked, her voice hushed and her tone concerned. “You’ve been weird ever since the fire.”