Nico
“The fuck you are,” I snarl at my oldest brother, Junior, through the phone. He’s just informed me he’s sending ten guys to Vegas to take over the cocaine scene here.
“You wanna try that again?”
“We had an agreement. I keep things on the up and up here so your money can be laundered through. I do not need the Vegas police or the Feds breathing down my neck because you want to increase your share of street drug sales. It’s not worth it.”
“I decide what’s worth it and what’s not.”
I go silent with my disagreement. Junior doesn’t run the outfit. Our father is boss, but he’s currently sitting in a federal prison for four more years on a tax fraud charge.
“No, Junior,” I say after the pause. “I have enough to deal with here. I know this city. I know the cops. I know the mayor. The risk does not outweigh the reward.”
“Maybe you need me to come help you run your business better, then.”
“Fuck you.” I squeeze my eyes shut, because I really shouldn’t talk to my brother that way, and if I don’t de-escalate things, I’m going to be pulling my balls out of my ass. “Listen, J-I’m sorry. That was disrespectful. I didn’t mean it.”
Junior makes a sound in his throat.
“You’re happy with the way I run things here, right? I make La Famiglia a lot of money, no?” There can be no doubt of his answer. I make four times what all their illegal operations make in Chicago, and everything I do here is on the up and up.
He makes another affirmative sound.
“So please trust me on this. I’m sorry I was being a prick. I get too used to being my own bossman here. But I know what’s gonna work in my city. Cocaine dealing is too risky. Too dominated by the Latin American gangs. And it could threaten everything I have going here, ah?”
“You’re being a pussy.”
I have to work to keep my temper in check. I don’t dignify his taunt with an answer.
Junior waits another moment, then he says, “We’ll talk about it when I come out there.”
I stiffen. “When is that?”
“Next week. Ma wants to move out for the winter. Says she misses you too much. I figure I’ll come along and find her a house.”
I’m about to snap that I can find her a house, but I manage to put a cork in it. He wants to come here and throw around his weight. I’d better get my head on straight before he gets here. Keeping his shit out of Vegas is my number one priority.
Sondra
I take the elevator up to the top floor. Something makes me try Tacone’s room first-some sixth sense he’ll be there this time. I knock on the door, but hear nothing. So much for intuition.
I key myself in and get to work.
It’s empty, as it’s been the past week. A crisp fifty dollar bill lays on the table with a note and my name. At this rate, I’ll earn enough to move out of Corey’s by the end of the month.
Which, considering what she told me about Dean’s interest in a threesome, is even more necessary.
I leave the bill on the table until I finish. It’s for a job well-done and I’ll make damn sure I do my best before I take the money. I clean the bathrooms and bedroom and head into the study. I end up in the office last. Because Marissa was paranoid about it, I stay way the hell away from the desk, dusting the book cases, emptying the trash and vacuuming. Noticing a spider web in the upper corner of the window, I grab the broom to swipe it. And that’s when the other end of the broom knocks over something on Tacone’s desk.
I jump and whirl to see coffee spilling across the papers.
Oh shit.
Crap, crap, crap.
I run for my rags, and come back, mopping things up as fast as I can. But it’s too late. Half the papers on his desk are soaking wet, stained brown.
What should I do?
I separate them and lay them out individually to dry, trying not to look at the contents. I’m not supposed to be seeing this stuff.
“What the fuck?”
A little shriek leaves my lips and I knock the now-empty coffee mug over again.
Tacone looms in the doorway, his hulk more menacing than ever. His eyes glitter black, a muscle jumps in his jaw.
“Oh God…” I right the coffee mug again. “I’m so sorry. I knocked over your coffee and got it all over everything. I know we’re not supposed to touch the desks-I definitely didn’t plan to, but…”
Tacone walks closer, suspicious eyes sweeping the desk, the floor, my body, the room. He still has bags under his eyes like he hasn’t been sleeping.
“I didn’t look at anything-I swear.”
In a flash, he wraps his large hand around my throat from behind, loosely cupping the front of my neck. He pulls me back, so my ass bumps into his legs. “What did you see?” His voice is low and dangerous, but the hand on my neck is more a caress than a threat, especially when his thumb strokes lightly along my pulse.
I close my eyes. “Nothing,” I croak. “I saw nothing. I swear.”
“Nosiness won’t be forgiven, Sondra.” His voice is pure sex. Total seduction. His breath feathers hot across my ear. The hard muscles of his body press against my softer form. “Are you telling me the truth?”
“Yes.” It comes out as a half-moan, half-gasp, but not because I’m scared. I’m totally turned on.
Tacone’s other arm snakes around my waist. His hand splays flat across my belly, inching down. “Your only sin is clumsiness?”
“Yes, sir.”
He likes that I call him sir. I don’t know how I can tell, but I know he does.
Zingers of electricity run through my body, lighting it up from the inside, and I swear I sense the answering charge from his cells. My panties are beyond damp-they’re soaked.
“I guess that only calls for a little correction.” He nips my ear.
My heart thuds, probably so hard he can feel it through my back.
“Put your hands on the desk.”
My belly flips. Oh my lord, is he going to spank me? A shiver runs through me. He’s excited too. His cock presses into my back, and his breath rasps in and out as fast as mine. He releases me and steps back and I obey, bending to rest my palms flat on the desk in front of me.
I hear a deep rumble of approval behind me. His two hands grip my hips and he pulls, angling my butt even further back. He slowly slides his hands down the fabric of my skirt, caressing my curves before he releases me. “I’ll let you keep your uniform on.” His voice is impossibly deep. “Only because this time, if I take that zipper down again, I won’t hold back.”
The floor tilts and a wave of dizziness floods through me and then I slam back to reality when his palm crashes down on my ass.
Smack.
I gasp and list to the side automatically, but then I put myself back in position. I hold still for his punishment.
“Mm. I knew this ass would be spankable,” he rumbles.
He slaps the other cheek. Hard. I have to close my lips against the squeak that rises in my throat. Another slap, and another. It’s a little too much, but just when I’m about to protest, he starts rubbing my offended cheeks, massaging away the sting.
I pant, my pussy clenching, heart tapping out a rapid beat.
Tacone strokes down my hip until he reaches bare thigh. He starts to slide up my leg, under the uniform skirt, then stops, and pulls my dress hem lower. “You’d better get back to work before I take this way too far.”
Uhhh…what? I’m way too horned up to just pull my dress down and get back to work. In fact, the very idea of it pisses me off. If a female could get blue balls, I’d have them. My clit throbs, my nipples are hard, sensitive points.
I lift my torso and whirl around to confront him. Before I can speak, he catches me at the nape and holds me captive for a kiss. Hard lips twist over mine with a bruising intensity. He sucks my lower lip into his mouth, nips it. His tongue sweeps between my lips.
I mewl and kiss him back, grateful for the desk supporting my ass, or I would fall down.
“Bellissima,” he murmurs when he pulls away. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”
No need, my wanton inner slut moans.
But with a pained look, he releases me and steps back. “Go on.” He turns me and smacks my ass in dismissal.
A storm of emotions flood through me-humiliation mingling with lust and turning into white hot anger.
Okay. He wants to toy with me?
Fine.
Two can play at this game.