Conquered by the Mafia Boss

JACK

Music pounds from the floor-to-wall speakers, radiating outward. The waves shake into my leg, traveling upward to bury somewhere in my chest. The bass plays my rib cage like a drum, and I lift the cool glass to my lips-I don’t remember what the fuck I’m drinking-and I tilt my head back. A vague burning sensation fills my mouth as multicolored lights bleed into each other.

Jesus, I’m wasted.

I’m wasted a lot lately.

A hand pounds my shoulder really fucking hard, and I turn around, glass in hand. The whole world turns with me in swirls of color. I’m ready to smash the drink in his face, but it’s only Fran? ois. He gives me a look that boils my blood. That upturned nose and those haughty eyes condemn me.

Go ahead and judge me, you fuck.

Like anyone in my position would be sober.

His mouth moves, and it takes a few seconds to work out what he’s saying. “Are you ready to go?”

“Am I balls deep in some chick right now?”

He rolls his eyes.

“I came here to get laid, and I’m not leaving until that happens.”

We went out tonight celebrating my last night of freedom, but so far it’s a fucking letdown. Johnny’s axe hangs over my neck, and I keep thinking about that instead of scoring easy pussy.

“Keeping the boss waiting isn’t smart, Jack.”

Fuck the boss.

Fran? ois’s jovial face falls ever so slightly as heat rises to my skin. It’s almost as if I said it out loud. Maybe I would say it if I had a death wish, but I don’t want to think about that piece of shit right now. My head turns, swimming in colors and perfume and the hundreds of bodies, smashed together. Ignoring him, I slide into the thick of the dance floor. I came here for pussy. One last wild night.

Used to be that I had wild nights every fucking night. A new day, a new girl. Easy and simple is how I like it, and getting a hot piece of ass to follow me to bed was never hard. A roll of cash and a few soft words on their ears would usually do the trick, but some girls don’t go for that. Some girls want me to whisper something dirty in their ears. They want the filth. They want me to talk about making them come with my tongue. I’ll tell them how big my dick is. None of them believe me, and then it’s easy to persuade them to go somewhere so that I can show them privately. Some of them are wild for action. They want excitement in their lives. Then all I have to do is show the gun hanging at my hip and tell them that I work “in construction,” and they’re mine for the evening.

There are beautiful girls everywhere, wearing shorts with tattered strings that brush over the swell of their nicely tanned asses, just begging for a squeeze. A tall blonde pushes her hair back shyly and smiles at me, but she’s not really my type. Nice tits though. I keep squeezing my way through, but it’s impossible to be heard, and I’m not about to throw a girl over my shoulder and walk out.

This isn’t working. There are too many lights and sounds. Frankly I’m in danger of falling on my ass, and heat presses in on me from all sides. I feel like I’m in a straitjacket. By the time I make my way back to the bar, Fran? ois is gone. He fucked off somewhere. Good.

The bartender looks up as I arrive, making me a drink before I can even sit down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to take advantage of me. She knows who I am-the people I’m connected to. That alone keeps the drinks flowing all night.

I sit down on the small black stool and eye the poured drink ruefully. There’s no fucking way I can have another one, not when I don’t even feel like I have limbs anymore.

“Hey.”

A timid, feminine voice filters through the bullshit blasting on the speakers, and I turn my head to the left.

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It’s like a mirage. A stunning girl sits on the stool next to mine. It takes a while for me to get the details of her into focus, like the white spaghetti-strap tank top she’s wearing, and the little red flowers decorating it. Her tits are perky and I have to resist the urge to look at her cleavage. She makes my cock throb. I look down her thin waist to the jeans sticking to her ass like skin and then back to her face. Long, highlighted blonde hair brushes her slight, feminine shoulders. She has a vulnerable look about her that is completely at odds with her amazing body. Her eyes are wide and blue, and there’s a small dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks. A girl like her should be brimming with confidence, but instead she plays with her glass, her rose-painted fingernails running up the sides incessantly. It’s my job to notice people’s weaknesses. To assess and exploit. It’s my bread and butter, so to speak. This girl screams “inexperienced,” and my dick jumps at the thought of being the one to break her-to shove my cock inside her tight pussy and watch her shatter as I take her wide-eyed innocence.

“Hey, sexy.” Goddamn it, I’m still drunk as hell.

Thankfully she just smiles at me, laughter all over her face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Hello.

“Oh, that’s one thing I already know.”

She laughs, a bell-like sound. “Do you want to have a drink with me?”

You can do anything you want to me, baby.

I study her jittering ankle. She’s nervous. That’s cute. A smile spreads across my face, and I beckon to her with a finger. “Come here.”

Pink rises in her cheeks as she hesitantly slides off the stool and takes a few steps toward me. I grab her wrist and yank her forward so that her body stumbles and then I pull her over my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck with a surprised gasp.

“I’d rather have a taste of you.”

For a moment she just eye-fucks me as the tiny freckles dotting her nose burn. My hands snake around her waist and I feel the heat of her burning through the thin fabric of her camisole.

“That’s a pretty good line.”

“Give me a fucking kiss.”

I love feeling the weight of her on my lap. Her hair tickles my skin as she leans forward, her pale lips hovering over my face. Sweetness flows over my tongue as I catch her bottom lip, crushing my mouth against hers. A spicy, ginger smell wafts from her hair, which is as smooth as silk. There’s nothing like having a gorgeous woman on your lap. Nothing like having a gorgeous naked woman on your lap, playing with your clothes and ready to do your bidding. Fuck, my slacks tighten just thinking about it. I want to feel her smooth skin gliding in my hands, and I want her to feel my rock-hard cock riding against her bare ass. Thank God I don’t get whiskey dick.

She pulls away from me before I can stick my tongue down her throat. I watch how she sucks in breath through those small pink lips that I’d love to see wrapped around my cock. She’s close enough to kiss again. Close enough to do anything I want, which is to drag my tongue down her neck to her milky cleavage.

Look at her tits. Do it.

But I force myself to hold her gaze. My heart does a small flip when her lips pull away, revealing a row of white, even teeth. Damn, she has a beautiful smile.

“You’re a very good kisser.”

Blood pounds in my head, my vision still swimming with booze. “There are a lot of other things I’m good at. Want me to show you?”

A laughing, sweet smile fills her face, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Let’s have a drink.”

Disappointment settles in my guts and then I realize that she just wants to talk bullshit for a while so that she feels less bad about her one-night stand.

“I can’t have another drink. Look at me.”

“You don’t look very drunk.”

“Trust me, I am.”

But not drunk enough to not see how the skin on top of her breast jumps with her pulse. Or feel the blood pounding through my cock. Elle est belle en tabarnak. I only have half an hour before I have to leave, and I have to fuck this girl. For fuck’s sake, she made the first move. This should be easy.

“But I can still give you the best night of your fucking life.”

“What do you mean by that?”