I blinked, surprised. "Seriously? I don’t know . . .”
Cocking an eyebrow and quirking her mouth, she gave me a sarcastic half-smile. “Why not? What are you doing tonight—making a hit on someone?"
Her sarcastic question let me chuckle, and I shook my head. "No, just picking up payments. I've got four places to go to tonight, maybe more if the cops are off my ass. Tell you what. I’ll see what Pietro says."
Luisa gave me a cryptic smile and nodded. "What time?"
“After dinner? Eight or so.”
"It's a date," Luisa said musically, reaching for the remote.
"It's not a date,” I said, getting up and walking out. "It's work.”
"It's a date!" she yelled back, laughing. It was weird how she could go from bitchy to sweet in about 2.1 seconds.
* * *
I was sitting in the casual dining room, looking at my plate of broccoli and chicken I’d prepared when I heard high heels on the tile. "Looks delicious."
I looked up and nearly fell out of my chair seeing Luisa standing there. She looked stunning—I'd never seen a woman look so sexy in such a conservative set of clothing. She skipped the skirt for slacks that seemed to accentuate just how long her legs were, and the jacket was pinched at her waist, hugging her torso. She'd put on a men's style dress shirt and tie instead of a blouse, but the way the silk and cotton bulged out over her breasts made her look even sexier than if she'd worn a plunging neckline. "Holy . . . well, you look dressed for work all right."
My reaction wasn't what she was looking for, and she frowned, crossing her arms under her breasts. I wasn't sure if it was intentional, but it made her already curvy chest stick out even more, to the point that I had to try to keep my attention on her face. "If you’re finished with dinner, I’m ready."
"Just a few minutes," I said, trying to recover my cool. "Pull up a seat. I was just getting my grub on."
"I noticed," Luisa replied. “Don’t worry, I ate earlier."
She sat down in the chair across from me, stretching out her legs. I rushed my way through my dinner, choking down my food just to give myself a reason to not stare at her, and put my dishes in the sink. "Come on, let's go."
Luisa smirked as she got up, and I knew she'd been trying to distract me while I ate. Saving my comments about that for myself, I got in my car and started up the engine. "Just to warn you, I’m carrying today," I said, opening my suit coat to show her my Beretta. "Part of the job."
“Is that supposed to scare me? In fact, can I have one too?" she asked, taunting me. “How about something with some real kick to it?"
I gave her a look. “No.” I started up the engine and left for my first stop, a dry cleaner that had accepted a loan from my father ten years ago, and in return, Dad was a twenty-five percent silent owner in the business. My cash pickup was actually Dad's monthly share of the profits.
"Good evening Mr. Bertoli!" the owner greeted us with a smile as I came in with Luisa. "My, my, you have a partner tonight. And who’s the lovely lady?"
"Luisa Mendosa," Luisa introduced herself, smiling. "It's a pleasure, but I'm not Tomasso's partner. I’m just a guest tonight."
The man nodded and shrugged. Turning, he picked four hangers off the rotating rack and laid them over the counter before getting a totally normal bank deposit bag. "Here you are, Mr. Bertoli. Two suits for you, two for your father, and the deposit for this week. Do you need anything else?"
“That’s all," I said, shaking his offered hand. "I might have some suits to drop off next week though.
"Of course, Mr. Bertoli. It's always a pleasure doing the dry cleaning for your family.
“As always, thanks,” I said, waving. "Take care."
"Until next time, Mr. Bertoli."
In the car, I saw Luisa looking over at me, an amused look on her face. "What?"
"You're a nice guy, that's all," Luisa said with a chuckle. "I thought it was just an act the other day—for my benefit. You act like an asshole often enough that it’s refreshing to see."
I returned her look evenly. “Don’t go saying that too much. You’ll ruin my reputation. But yes, I’m a nice guy, and I'm an asshole. Nice guys don’t make good wise-guys.” I sighed. “You might not like the next stop.”
"Why? Is it filled with assholes?"
I chuckled and shrugged. "You could say that. It's the Starlight Club, a strip joint we're part owners of. There should be a decent crowd tonight, so if you want to avoid the offense to your delicate nature, you might want to stay in the car."
Luisa took up my challenge, and her dark eyes glittered as she stared out the front windshield. “I’m not a delicate flower, Tomasso. I thought you’d have picked up on that by now. Drive."
"All right, but I warned you," I said, putting my car in gear and driving out toward the club. I found the parking lot about three-quarters full, but as expected, the reserved parking spot for me was open. Closing my door, I still hit the lock. The Starlight Club was in that sort of neighborhood. "Come on. Watch your ass. Literally."
The interior of the club was dim, and the ghosts of cigarettes long past still hung in the air. I appreciated Seattle's recent ban on smoking, even in strip clubs, but it would still be years before the stench fully worked itself out of the building itself. The bouncer saw me and waved to the bartender. Tonight it was Terry, the manager of the joint. "Mr. Bertoli! It's an honor, sir!"
I never did quite understand why Terry was always overly submissive to any of us who were sent in to collect our money. We never had to worry about Terry. He always had his money on time, and he often threw us freebies on top of it. It was like he was afraid we were going to pop off and start shooting up the place at the drop of a hat. That's not good for business—his or ours. He probably just watched too many gangster movies.
"Thanks, Terry. The place looks busy tonight." I looked around and noted that business seemed to be doing pretty well. The girls all had smiles on their faces, and it wasn't just the normal work smile either, but the smile of a working girl who was making good money.
Terry nodded. "We've got a special attraction tonight, sir. Patty Smiles is doing dances starting at ten thirty."
"Who?" I asked, curious. I'd never heard the name.
"She won an AVN award for best new teen," Terry informed me. "She's doing a club tour in between shoots. She's commanding ten thousand for tonight alone, but we've already cleared that back on just the bar. The rest of the girls are getting in on the generosity too. We've got her booked for Saturday night as well. I'm expecting a full house then."
I looked as on stage, a girl whose real name was Betty but whose stage name was Vicki Sinz worked on untying the knot on her schoolgirl outfit. The stage was surrounded by the vapid, horny faces of the men who'd never even get a chance with her. I gestured to her. "She's working out well. You guys missing Carmen?"
"Girls like Carmen are special, but they always come and go," Terry said with a shrug. "Actually, most of the customers come, then go too."
I laughed at the old joke and turned to Luisa. "What do you think?"
"She can't dance for shit," Luisa said disapprovingly, looking at the stage. "Too fast, no tease, and she certainly doesn't know how to move."
"You think you can do better?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. "That ain't like your jiu-jitsu, you know. The flow isn’t the same."
“I’ve danced for more years than I've done jiu-jitsu," she replied haughtily. "And I can out-dance any girl here."
I looked over at Terry, who shrugged and handed me the envelope for the pickup. "I make no claims, sir. I just pour the drinks and hand out the paychecks."
He didn't say it in his tone, but I could tell that he was a bit offended. Terry might have only been a strip club manager, but the man did his job well and took reasonable pride in his work. As for me, it was a little hypocritical since I often thought just as highly of myself as she obviously did, but I decided to teach Luisa a little lesson. I turned back. "Okay then. If you'r
e so much better, prove it."
"Excuse me?" she said, shocked. "You really expect me to dance for these half-drunk losers?"
I shook my head. “That’s your choice, but I’d like to see you put your money where your mouth is."
Luisa stammered, her eyes flaring with anger. I had her, and she knew it. Her pride was way too much to back away now. “Fine,” she said through clenched teeth. "But not in public."
"No, of course not," I replied with a smirk, knowing I'd won. "Terry, get us a private room. I'll have a beer while I'm waiting since I'm driving, but let Luisa here use the back to prepare. She definitely needs to lose the suit."
“You think you’re clever, don’t you? I’m not getting naked for you," Luisa said in a low voice, leaning in. "You’re not worthy of that."
"We'll see." I grinned. “Go with Terry, and he'll make sure you don't have to do anything embarrassing. I'll wait in the VIP."
Chapter 8: Luisa
"That arrogant bastard!" I muttered to myself in Portuguese as I thought how stupid I was. I should’ve just walked out and forgotten the stupid challenge, but my pride wouldn’t let me. I longed to make Tomasso eat his words.
I looked at the costumes that were available in front of me. Unfortunately, most of the clothing was far too small, as it seemed every girl who danced for the Starlight Club was at least six inches shorter than me. Finally, I turned to Terry, who'd accompanied me. I’d normally have been offended, but he gave me the impression that he was into men, and I wasn’t too worried. Besides, I could handle myself if he tried anything. “Do you have anything not made for midgets?"
"Nobody your height. We had a girl who worked here three years ago that was six one, but she bought all her own stuff and took it with her when she left. What are you, like six foot?"
I shook my head. "Five eleven, if I remember the conversion right. One hundred and eighty-one centimeters."
Terry nodded, then thought. "Well, no offense, but unless you’re wearing granny panties, why not just work with what you have on? Win your little bet and be on your way.”
I thought about it and shrugged. Terry wouldn’t be my first choice on fashion advice, but he’d do. I unbuttoned my jacket and took it off, showing him my shirt. "Okay, now what's underneath?"
I sighed and loosened my tie, unbuttoning my shirt to reveal my bra that I had underneath. It wasn't the sexiest I owned. I'd packed for business and not seduction, but it wasn’t bargain store lingerie either. "What do you think?"
"And the panties? No offense. I don't know if you'll even need to show them, but it pays to be sure."
I chuckled and turned around, undoing my pants and giving him a flash of my backside. "Matching. Good enough?"
He laughed and gestured with his hand that he’d seen enough. “If he doesn't get hard from that, send him my way, because that man is gay," he said with a laugh.
I laughed and tucked in my blouse again and pulled my tie all the way up. As I did, Terry came back with an old fashioned fedora, which he handed to me.
"Here, tuck your hair into this. That'll make the reveal all the better."
I considered it, then nodded, pulling my hair back into a quick twist that I piled on my head and secured with a clip that Terry handed me before fitting it all under the fedora. It was a tight fit, but it worked well enough. "How do I look?"
"Like the sexiest man to walk in here in years," Terry said with a chuckle. "No offense. Now, the room has a digital music system in it, with controls both inside and outside. We can set some stuff up here if you want."
"I do," I said, thinking about my outfit. I looked, choosing some Brazilian jazz, slow and sensual that would build as the song went on to a more tango-like beat. I punched it into the system and looked at Terry. "I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I was angry with Tomasso—it seems that we bring out this sort of fierceness in one another. I didn’t mean to say that your girls couldn’t dance, but I couldn’t take it back after it came out. I know they’re trying to make money more than great art."
"No, you were right for the most part,” Terry said, waving it off with a smile. "A lot of the girls can't dance for shit. They've just got bodies that men like to throw down money to see. But thanks. I know it seems you two have a sort of animosity against each other, but if I can ask, why don’t you just call this off?”
“Because I want that cocky bastard to eat his words,” I replied with a little bit of heat. "Don't you know not to make a Latina angry?"
He smiled and escorted me to the door of the VIP room, where he unlocked it and handed me the key before closing the door behind me. The room was mostly soundproofed, with a single long couch that stretched most of the length of the small booth. Tomasso had taken off his suit jacket and holster, putting both on the coat hooks that were against the wall. Leaning back against the seat rest, he had a cocky little smirk on his face that I was looking forward to wiping off. "Well, are you ready? And nice hat."
"Shut up and watch," I said, tapping the play button on the remote attached inside the door. The music started, and I walked across the floor until I was close enough that Tomasso could almost touch me before spinning on my heel, making sure my hips swung closer to him as I bent over slightly before walking away.
The music continued and I spun back around, working the buttons on my jacket until I could open the coat fully, peeling it off before tossing it to the side. I'd tucked my shirt as tightly as possible around my stomach and breasts, and they were practically molded to the fabric. I smiled inside as Tomasso's eyes widened slightly. Next was the hat, swinging my hair around before setting the fedora on his head and drawing him forward, where his arms rested on his knees with anticipation. Then my tie, which I slowly pulled off my neck before taking it and wrapping it around his neck, leaning in so close that I could feel his breath on my lips. "I think you'd look great in this, sexy man."
His reply shocked me as he pulled me in, his lips meeting mine as he kissed me hard. His mouth was hungry, demanding, and I started to relent before I remembered that I was the one who was supposed to be in charge. Surprised, both at his audacity and at my reaction, I pulled back before slapping him across the face with everything I had. "You son of a bitch! How dare you! You—”
He caught my next slap and lifted me, pushing me against the wall as his powerful body held me helpless against the soundproof padding. He kissed me again, and I felt it, irresistible and hot—my body aching for it. The heat that had been building inside me, the fantasy that I'd been playing with for days was in my arms, and I gave in to my desire. My tongue came out to duel with his, and even though I was angry, the passion built between us. Still, I was the one who was going to be in charge, not him.
Yanking at his shirt, I pulled it out of his pants while his knee parted my legs like they were water, and for the first time, I felt his cock pressing against my hip. He was larger than I'd expected, and I felt more heat build between my legs. "You asshole," I growled when our lips parted for air. “You know you’re an asshole, right?”
"I know," Tomasso replied, pulling me off the wall and pushing me toward the sofa. We collapsed, him on top of me, driving his body into mine as we pulled and tugged at our clothing, trying to get past the annoying fabric to the skin that we both wanted.
It was rough, it was a battle, and one I intended to win. If he thought he could take me, he would find that I was the one taking him. Using some of my jiu-jitsu skills, I flipped us both off the couch, landing on the floor in a loud thud that jarred him slightly. Still, he was strong, his arms unyielding as he crushed me to him again, his lips hot and demanding on my neck, tasting me and tearing groans from my throat.
I could feel his cock pressing between my legs, our pants maddeningly in the way. Reaching down, I cupped him, feeling the heavy weight, and both of us moaned in anticipation. I undid Tomasso's belt and reached inside, shivering at the thickness of what I found inside. "Mmm . . .”
He rolled us over again, his face filled with
lust and desire and a bit of anger. He wanted to be the one in charge, and I'd been taunting him and frustrating him for so long—he was at the limits of his control.
I was glad that my pants actually had some flex to them and that I'd already undone the waistband, because Tomasso yanked them so hard off my hips that I felt the heat of the fabric over my skin, and I knew that if I hadn't, he'd have literally torn the pants off my body. Lifting my legs, he pinned my feet next to my head, my legs only able to spread as far as my pants around my ankles would let me. His chest rumbled deep with his desire, and I couldn't see as he adjusted himself, but I could feel the head of his cock pressing against me, and I growled back at him, “You’d better wrap that thing."
He didn’t say a word, and he kept my legs pinned against me as he reached for his pants and fiddled around. I heard a package rip open, and I was glad that he was prepared.
After a moment, he pulled back, then drove his hips forward, his cock spearing me open and driving all words from my mind. Instead, hot streams of pleasure tore through my body as I was stretched and filled again after knowing nothing but my own hands for too long. Without pausing, he pulled back and drove himself in again, pounding me.
I'd never felt something so feral, so passionate, and so amazing as Tomasso relentlessly fucked me. His hips smacked into me over and over, my body giving in to him as he drove his cock deep inside me. My pussy clenched and tightened around him, wanting more and not wanting him to pull out, but he was relentless.
Reaching up with my hands, I pulled him down into a searing kiss, my fingers tight on his neck and my tongue searching not for combat, but for union. I hadn’t surrendered to a man in the past three years, not since college, but he was a man worth giving in to. Tomasso stiffened at first, suspicious even as his cock continued to hammer inside me before his lips softened and his hands became tender on my skin, the fire in his eyes changing from angry passion to just passion. I met his thrusts as best I could, but with my boots next to my ears, there was little I could do. "Let me turn over . . . please. I promise I'll be good."
Dangerous Love: Bertoli Crime Family Box Set Page 27
