The Virgin and the Kingpin

by Allyson Lindt

  If she saw this as a business transaction, it wouldn’t be anything else. That would make it easier.

  “You have to follow my instructions to the letter,” he said.

  “If I don’t?”

  “Then the process doesn’t work, and there’s no reason to continue. You either want this, or you don’t. I’m already going to say yes. Don’t make me change my mind before we begin.”

  “All right. I’m in.” Her smile returned, confident and unwavering. “When do we start?

  He shook his head. “One more thing. You don’t tell Mercy.”

  “Because I want this to end before it starts? She’s leaving on her honeymoon tonight. She won’t hear it from me.”

  “Perfect. Tomorrow, one in the afternoon, meet me at the R&T offices. Wear comfortable clothes.” The offices would be closed since it was Sunday.

  He was so fucked if this went south, but with the pleased determination on her face, he couldn’t tell her no.

  Chapter Seven

  Susan sat in her car in the empty R&T parking lot, struggling to keep her thoughts from rambling out of control. Not that she’d been successful at any point, since talking to Andrew last night.

  She was fifteen minutes early, which meant staring at nothing and letting the chill rake over her. She couldn’t stay home alone with her thoughts any longer, though. She hoped getting outside and letting the winter day wrap around her would give her a new place for her focus. She was wrong.

  Andrew’s story turned her on more than anything ever had. When she got home after the wedding, her panties were soaked. It wasn’t that she was completely inexperienced when it came to sex. She’d fooled around with boyfriends and gone as far as third base with a couple of them. She didn’t have a problem with the idea of doing it; it simply hadn’t happened to her yet.

  Heck, her vibrator was one of her best friends. She and it caught up real well last night. She lay in bed, Andrew’s tale replaying with her mental visuals, while she slid the toy between her legs, stroking, not easing up until she got off twice.

  Fantasy continued to tease her today. She’d never understood why people thought public sex—the possibility of getting caught—was a turn on. Now she not only got it, but also wanted to know more.

  A sharp rap on her window startled her and pulled her back to the now. She looked up to see Andrew bent at the waist, watching her with a half-formed smile. He gestured for her to join him, so she grabbed her stuff and hopped out of her car.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said. “You looked like you were enjoying wherever you were.”

  A place she was half-tempted and half-terrified to tell him about. “It showed?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure no one else noticed.”

  Because no one else was around.

  He settled a hand on the small of her back and pointed her toward the Range Rover sitting next to her car. The expensive rental was a not-so-subtle reminder that, despite the fact that he wore faded jeans and a hoodie, the man was worth billions. “You ready to become a starlet?”

  His question summoned one of her own she’d been trying to ignore since last night. The only hint she had about what his training involved was his story. As much as the daydream turned her on, she couldn’t be an active participant in that kind of thing. Should she have asked for details? She hadn’t wanted to at the time. She was too busy being smug that she convinced him to help her. No reason to jinx it.

  “Suzie-Q?” He waved a hand in front of her face. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” She cringed at the squeak that struggled out. She cleared her throat. “Absolutely.” This time she managed more confidence.

  He held the door open for her, and waited until she was in the SUV before extending his hand. “Phone. Turn it off first.”

  “Excuse me?” She might be a bit uncertain about this. Feeling a bit timid. But it wasn’t as though she was attached to her Android. Though maybe a little.

  “We do this without distractions. My rules—remember?”

  Like she could forget. If he were anyone else, she wouldn’t agree, and not only because she hated the thought of surrendering the artificial appendage. She typed out a quick text before shutting off the device and handing it over. “That went to my B.F.F., Olivia. If she doesn’t hear from me by tonight, she’s calling the cops.”

  “You don’t trust me.” He didn’t look offended as he pocketed her phone.

  “It if it weren’t for how well Mercy knows you, I’d tell you no. So I trust you enough.”

  “But you want to do this anyway.”

  “That doesn’t mean I have to be stupid about it.”

  He smirked. “I like the way you think. Shall we?”

  “Let’s.” She swallowed, hoping to quell the churning in her gut, and settled back into her seat, while he made his way to the driver’s side.

  Silence fell between them, as they drove to the main road and then onto the freeway. Were they not allowed to be friendly? Andrew didn’t strike her as a nothing-to-say kind of guy. Was it only her he didn’t want to talk to? Screw that. Unless it was one of his rules, she wasn’t spending this entire affair in awkward silence. “How did you get started in your work?” Jobs were a reasonable topic, and she got to prove she wasn’t a fragile, innocent flower that needed to be sheltered.

  “The fucking part or the selling-it part?” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, then turned his attention back to the road.

  “There’s more to it than doing sex stuff and posting it online.”

  He raised his brow. “Not really. I took the pictures, the participants signed the release, and I happened to have a best friend who was brilliant at getting my content in front of people willing to pay for it.”

  “And that’s it?” Susan didn’t expect the casual dismissal of his work. If she asked Dad or any of his friends or their sons about their jobs, she was guaranteed an immeasurable diatribe about their invaluable contributions to the business world. She preferred Andrew’s way.

  “Do you want me to go on about ROI and contracts and copyright law? Or are you looking for another tale like last night’s?”

  Was she? Not consciously, though she did like the idea. No. That would be too distracting. She shrugged. “I figure it’s an empire; it couldn’t have been easy to build.”

  “It wasn’t, but it helps that I love my work. Yes, I mean the sex stuff.”

  “Don’t make fun.” The childish retort slipped out before she could stop it.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. But I promise it’s like any other job. We work long hours when we have to, and the stories about out-of-control orgies are mostly to impress investors.”

  She couldn’t stop her laugh. “Mostly?”

  “It’s business, Suzie-Q. Someone’s always looking to fuck as many people as they can at once without getting in trouble.”

  So cynical. She shook her head in amusement. “I don’t have a counter for that.”

  “People rarely do. Tell me—what kind of work are you in, that has you sneaking in rehearsal during lunch and at early hours?”

  “I intern at my dad’s commercial real-estate firm. It’s only temporary, until I graduate and land some dance work.”

  “I didn’t realize you were in school. You don’t strike me as a business-major kind of person, but I don’t know you that well.”

  “I’m majoring in fine arts. Online classes. He’s got me fetching coffee, running errands—stuff like that.” It was decent work. Kept her busy. Kept him happy.

  A frown ghosted across Andrew’s face. “But intern implies he doesn’t pay you.”

  “Well, no. I get free room and board.” She chuckled, the same way she always did when explaining work, but this time it didn’t feel right. A whisper of anger snaked through her. Who was Andrew, to cast judgment on her? She swallowed the errant thought. He hadn’t, and she was overreacting. “It’s kind of weak, not having my own money, but the job market is slim for someone
without qualifications, and it’s only temporary.” Now she was over-explaining herself. She stopped short of revealing Dad’s teasing threats to kick her out if she got a dancing job.

  Andrew’s phone rang, and relief tickled her senses at the reprieve. “I had to turn mine off...” she said in a playful tone.

  He glanced at the screen for half a second. “And I should have done the same, but I have to get this. It goes off after. I promise.” Into the receiver, he said, “Hey, sis.”

  Then— “I don’t really have an opening in my schedule today.” Irritation leaked into his words, and Susan turned her attention to the side window, trying not to eavesdrop but not having much of a choice. “I know it’s a weekend, but I have plans. I’m half here on vacation... Of course I want to see both of you.” He sighed, and Susan looked back in time to see him glance at her. He gave her a weak smile. “I’m either going to bring a friend, or won’t be there for a couple of hours. She’s a business associate... Why do you care what she does for a living?”

  The conversation continued for a few more minutes, with pleasantries that left a strain in Andrew’s voice. By the time he hung up, Susan was all but squirming with curiosity and embarrassment. Was sis a nickname, like he seemed to use with everyone, or was it his actual sister? Did whoever it was think Susan was in porn? And why didn’t the assumption bother Susan? “Do we need to reschedule?” she asked.

  “I’d rather not.” He pocketed his phone, then rubbed his face. “I want to see my sister and nephew while I’m here, but their schedule isn’t matching mine. If it were anyone else, I’d tell them to fuck off. I promised you my time today. I can either take you back home, or you can go with me. Which would be one of those incredibly awkward, serves-my-sister-right-for-last-minute-planning things, and could be a blast if you’re into that kind of stuff. And we can pick this up after.”

  He cared about his family—he was doing one better than Mercy.

  That wasn’t fair of Susan. Her sister might have walked away from the people who loved her, out of some misdirected sense of spite, but she was back in their lives now. “I’ll go, if you’re sure your sister doesn’t mind.”

  ANDREW WAS SURPRISED the tension bled from his neck when Susan didn’t ask to go home. “Kandace will love you.” Probably. “Though she’s convinced you’re a porn star, and she’s going to be floored the first time you say oh my heck. She doesn’t believe I know respectable people.”

  “I promise to be on my best behavior.”

  “I don’t doubt it for a second.” He was struggling to wrap his head around Susan’s thought process. She had the innocence thing going on, and her hesitation made it clear some topics caught her off guard, but she didn’t seem to mind them. But there was a break-point, rather than a smooth transition, where bashful became bold. It confounded and fascinated him.

  He wanted to go back to their conversation, but she started to close off when he asked about her getting paid for work deterred him. Most of what he knew about their father came from Mercy’s perspective, and Andrew had little more than contempt for the man. It wasn’t his place to shove that onto Susan if she felt differently. She asked for his help with public performances, not yanking off the rose-colored glasses she saw the world through. “Why dancing?” That should be a good topic.

  From the way she sat up straighter and the glow on her face he caught out of the corner of his eye, that was the right question. “I love losing myself in the rhythm. Molding my body to the emotions of the composer and orchestra. Gliding with their passions draws me in. It’s hard to describe.”

  “I disagree. You did a fantastic job. It’s a difficult industry to break into, you know. Jobs are seasonal. Pay is sporadic, and frequently not of the living-wage level.”

  “Jeez. You sound like my dad.”

  “I hope not.” He winced at the words. The last thing he wanted was to be compared to a man who cared more about his family’s image in the church pews than their needs and potential.

  “You’re not changing my mind.”

  “That’s the last thing I want. If you do or don’t do it, it should be because of you, not because someone else said so. You should have the facts, though. If you’re okay with all of it, then pursue the fuck out of your passion.”

  “You think so?” Her smile, bright and genuine and sincere, stole his breath and thoughts.

  He jammed his brain back into gear. “I agreed to help you, didn’t I?”

  “Speaking of... How does this work?”

  He hadn’t figured that out yet. He had a vague idea but was working on the details around how to get her to shed a deeply rooted stage fright without resorting to things like exhibitionism. Having a late lunch with Kandace would buy him some more time. “That’s a surprise,” he said.

  For both of them.

  Chapter Eight

  Lucas stared at Susan, eyes wide. Andrew wasn’t sure what to make of it, until the boy said, “I love your hair.”

  “Thanks.” She grinned. “My dad hates it, but everyone else likes it. I’m thinking orange next.”

  “I wish I was that bold.” Awe filled Lucas’s voice.

  “I’m not bold at all.”

  Lucas leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “You’ll need to learn if you’re spending time with him.” He nodded at Andrew.

  Andrew wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that meant. He touched Susan’s arm, to draw her attention, and his mind stalled when she turned in his direction. He shook blank thoughts aside. “I need to talk to Kandace for a minute. You two be all right until we get back?”

  “Sure.” She looked more at home settling onto the leather sofa than he’d ever felt, and he bought the house.

  He blocked out her conversation with Lucas, about how she got the blue to stick, and led Kandace into the kitchen.

  “She’s a little young to be in porn, isn’t she?” Kandace asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

  He wasn’t in the mood for this. “She’s twenty-one, she doesn’t work for me, and you know not all of my associates fuck for a living.”

  “I do know it, but to hear you talk, they do. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  “You haven’t made a single smart-ass quip since you walked in the door. Are you sick?” She raised the inside of her wrist to his forehead.

  He swatted her hand away. “I don’t have a fever. And she’s Mercy’s younger sister.”

  “Ah.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He winced at the edge in his own words.

  Her frown said she noticed. “You really are on edge. What’s going on?”

  He breathed in, then counted to three as he exhaled, trying to chase away the tension. “I was serious on the phone the other day.”

  “So was I. No therapy. Whatever we can do to avoid it.” She opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and a beer, and handed him the water.

  He accepted but didn’t twist off the lid. “We already agreed on that. I mean about telling Lucas the truth. He deserves to know.”

  “No.” At least they weren’t dancing around the issue.

  “I’m not asking permission. It’s going to happen.”

  She leaned against the counter and took a long drag off her drink, before asking, “Have you thought this through?”

  “I’ve had ten years to think it through. I’ve never been comfortable with the arrangement.” He didn’t expect her to yield without a little pushback, but the flat-out refusal caught him off-guard.

  “Never? You didn’t protest too hard.”

  When he was eighteen, she made good points for telling Lucas she was his mother. Lucas’s health and happiness were more important than Andrew’s ego. “It’s true I’ve made a lot of excuses, even after I got myself together. But he’s reaching an age where he can understand, and he’ll be happier if he knows sooner rather than later.”

  “In your head, how does it play out once you tell him?” She crossed her ar
ms and stared.

  There weren’t a lot of options he was aware of, when it came to raising a kid. “He goes back to Georgia with me, and I enroll him in a school where they don’t tell kids they’ll go to hell for wanting to have sex.” He didn’t want to take Lucas away from home, but if he led with the worst case, they could negotiate from there.

  “So you’ll take a boy who already thinks his desires are evil, remove him from the only home he’s ever known, and plunge him headfirst into the filth that is your world?”

  It sounded fucked up when she said it like that. “There’s not a lot of filth. The maid comes and cleans the place twice a week. And the pool boy is sexy as hell.”

  She rolled her eyes and pushed past him. “And now you’ve deteriorated.”

  “I’m joking.” He grabbed her arm. “Well, I’m not—the house is clean—but where’s your sense of humor?”

  “You’re talking about a human being’s future.”

  “I know.” He forced himself to sound serious. “And you’re being myopic.” He wasn’t doing this the way they did ten years ago. He didn’t like being pushed out of his son’s life then, and he was putting his foot down now. “There’s got to be a happy medium on the what-next front.”

  “You tell me what that is, and we’ll talk.”

  He clenched his jaw and bit back the sarcastic comments that tried to force their way out. “I’m here now, trying to get your input.”

  “Or what? You’ll come back with lawyers and force the issue?”

  He stared at her in shock. “Okay... No idea where that came from. You’re his family. I get that. You raised him. I don’t think this is the kind of secret we can or should keep.”

  “I’m his mother. I think we should.”

  “You’re his aunt”—Andrew grasped for a reasonable response that didn’t imply he was going to yield—“and I’m not going to tell him he should stop calling you Mom. But think about it from a bigger-picture angle. How pissed off would you be, if you hit fifteen or twenty or forty and found out your mother lied to you your entire life about who your parents were?”