Dancing with the Mob: A Dark Mafia Romance Two-Book Collection

by Suzanne Hart

  He was speaking with Anus, the guy I’d named so. And they were discussing a price, but my mind was elsewhere and my eyes kept traveling from Mikey’s eyes, all across his taut, lean body; down to that handsome packet which moved when he did. His delicious man-meat, laying there asleep, just waiting for me to…

  “If nobody has a better offer for Michael?” Cigar guy was addressing the group. Jesus, he was familiar, but who was he again?

  I blushed, realizing the group was looking at me.

  “Miss? Do you have a better price?”

  “I’ll pay fifty,” I heard myself say. There was some muffled laughter. Even the guy with the cigar was smiling.

  “Miss...?”

  “Diamond, Felicia Diamond,” I announced. The man came over to me, bowed and took my hand, gently and respectfully placing his lips lightly on the back of it.

  “I’m very pleased to meet you Miss Diamond. My name is Claridge, XXX Claridge. I beg for your pardon, but the goods on offer are a single, sample kilogram, even at that grade; worth twenty, twenty-five at most.”

  I felt my eyes narrowing, the fire from my loins rising to my chest. I wanted to scream at every one of those men; didn’t they know who I was?

  No, they didn’t. And a good thing too.

  “I understand, Mr. Claridge. And thank you, thank you for your concern, and for your candor. My offer is still fifty, fifty thousand, as down payment on any other quantity available. The money is to be collected tonight. I’m not in the habit of carrying more than my lipstick.” I zoomed in on Mikey with my eyes. “I trust that’s an acceptable offer?” As all eyes turned back to Mikey.

  Mine were still locked on his and I mouthed the words, I want you, before anybody but Mikey could see.

  Mikey readily agreed to my stupid terms and, despite a few heads being scratched, that was it. Deal done. Claridge stood for a moment, examining both of us under the metal shade of a low lamp hanging from the domed vault. With a cocked brow and another puff of acrid blue smoke, he was satisfied with something and came over to bid Mikey farewell.

  “Perhaps another time, Michael? Another place?” Claridge held out his hand to Mikey, who looked at it like it was a bag of snakes.

  “It’s Mikey, and yeah, I’ll be in touch if I need you.”

  Claridge seemed to grow larger, his eyes flaring red, but he settled just as quickly, like a cat returning to sleep after waking to stretch himself.

  “Quite…” he murmured, mostly to himself. “Quite…”

  I felt Mikey’s hand on my back, practically pushing me up the passage and all the way back out of the building, down an alley to where his car was. I was in the front seat and watching the streetlights flash over his features before I could say anything. I was spellbound. I could sense my prize, but Mikey seemed suddenly cold.

  I casually told him where he should be driving. He shot me a vicious look, and it hurt me to have him look at me like that, especially after the way we’d been up until now.

  “Ummm. I don’t know who the fuck you are, Miss Diamond, but you just cost me about fifteen grand back there. I’ll take you downtown, or wherever you need to go, but I need to go and try and sell my shit, okay!?”

  I found myself smiling. Remembering and reminding myself that I was still in disguise; Mikey had no idea who I was, even without the fake name or scarves on my head. I was the Bernardi kid who lived in the attic, and so nobody knew me.

  The thrill of the deal had just been doubled, tripled. It was usually enough to get to weigh in on a price, or even speak at one of those things, to walk out with the loot and the dealer. I was struggling to maintain control at this point. A low moan had tried to escape me several times during Mikey’s outburst, forcing me to wriggle in my seat, to rub myself, ready for having him inside me.

  “Mr. Leone,” I cut in, in the most official business-like voice I could manage. “I have just told you I will pay fifty thousand as down payment and have just given you directions on where to drive to get it.”

  The car slowed as Mikey lay off the gas, and his eyes were widening at the realization I might just have the cash.

  “First things first, Mikey Leone. Get us both home so you can fuck me like a whore until I come on your face, and so I can ride that thick, fat dick of yours. I’m about to burst here!” I don’t think I’ve ever been in a car that traveled so fast after I’d said that.

  Seven

  Mikey

  I don’t think it occurred to me just how much I enjoyed being spoken to like that. I’m not sure if it was just the words either. Having someone you have a curious fascination with, suddenly talking dirty like that, and with complete seriousness. It almost gives coke a run for its money. Almost.

  I felt my own thickness swell an extra inch, throbbing in time with the V8 as I shifted up a gear. I suddenly wanted two things very much, to get my fifty grand, and to give this girl a fucking like she’d never had before. I still can’t remember which one I wanted more, but I knew I was getting both. I couldn’t help but look at myself in the rearview mirror, to catch a glimpse of how marvelous the moment was.

  See! Who needs the mob, Mikey? You can be your own man away from all that!

  I’d managed to give Gray the slip, being a Sunday, he was eager to get some time off for himself. I put it to him that he could go do what he wanted until the morning. At first he’d balked, eyeballing me like I was up to something. But the day before, I’d been at the warehouse, working. I’d been working almost every day and he hadn’t seen me complain or take anything stronger than a soda. He made double sure I wouldn’t tell anybody, then swore on his life he’d be back at my place at six am Monday morning, ready to see me getting ready for work, or else.

  Glancing at the dash clock as the car hummed into the downtown district, I had more than enough time. The nervous, itchy part of myself had planned to go back to the container once I had the cash; to stow it away. And basically to convince myself that all that was happening was actually real. The way things were turning out, I welcomed the distraction. I had blue balls from all work and no play. I wouldn’t have told her, but, whoever she was, I couldn’t get her out of my head since our first encounter from the other night.

  “I never did catch your name, by the way,” I said, raising a brow and shooting her a friendly, inquisitive look. Her own look had traveled down to the long, thick outline of my pulsing dick through my pants.

  She bit her lip, then looked up with a dreamy eye. “Miss Diamond is fine, for now.” I could tell she wanted to touch me so bad, her hand almost twitched in time to the beat of my dick as it pressed against the sheen of custom Italian tailoring.

  I gave it a couple of twitches to let her know that I knew what she was thinking. My own thoughts traced slowly, then quickly back to the coke. I wanted another blast, but I didn’t need it. I just had to keep it that way.

  Miss D., my new pet name for her; directed me to a huge, mirrored glass rocket ship of a building, then announcing with pressing urgency that it was the place. I’d seen the look a thousand times. Girl needs to come. She doesn’t just want to, she needs to. It’s something to do with how they’re built, I guess. Guys are the same, but they need it in a different way.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, noticing the quaver in her voice, but also the sheen of moisture across her sodden panties as her mini shifted high enough to give me a peep of her thin, downy Mohawk through the darkened lace.

  “Let’s just get upstairs and get you your money. Hmm? Then, maybe after an hour or two I’ll let you know if I’m okay,” she purred, but with that insistence that almost tripped alarm bells, almost pushed the paranoid button. Almost.

  It’ll be fine, Mikey, she has offered you the money first. Yessss!!!

  An awkward exit from the car for both of us ensued, as I tried feebly to cover a raging hard-on and she struggled to pull her skirt down over visible beads of moisture making their way south, down those extraordinary legs. The valet, professional to the end, didn’t ev
en blink. He had to take the car and, had no doubt, seen more than the likes of us on the job. No self-parking at a place like that. This one definitely had some money, no doubt. But why would she be buying that much coke? I could just tell she never indulged. Maybe I could change her mind.

  The elevator to the top floor seemed like a time warp, slowing and bending space in its passing. I worried my dick would go limp, but seeing her shapes from all angles in the mirrored cube, it added a new dimension to the process. I could see her eyes undressing me the whole way up, too. We had to take care of business first though, before we took care of business.

  As it happened, I was used to those surroundings and so was she --by the looks. Once inside, I instinctively observed the interior designer, smiling gently at the choice of colors and art. It was a nice place. It wasn’t Leone money-sized, but it was pretty close to it.

  She didn’t even ask me if I wanted a drink, she just poured scotch from heavy crystal into two fat tumblers, dunked some ice and disappeared for about ten seconds, before returning with a brick of green notes, which she placed by my drink on the low glass table.

  “Fifty thousand,” she said, flushing. Her hands trembled, not from fear or concern, just plain old impatience. I caught the insistent look in her eye, getting the message a second too late.

  “Oh, yeah! Of course!” I reached into the duffle bag between my feet, landing the brown packet next to the money with enough force to just move the ice in both our drinks.

  “Well now, that’s the ice broken,” she exhaled, her whole body vibrating slightly. “Shall we move to the next order of bu--”

  My hand was up the inside of her creamy thigh before she could finish the sentence. Our bodies scrambled to become entwined and undress at the same time. I kissed her so deeply, so hard; I felt something in my chest give. I’d never felt that before. I hoped it wasn’t a fucking heart attack.

  She suddenly pulled back from me, with her eyes wide and wild with passion. Then she instinctively slapped my face with full force, and I instinctively raised my hand to strike back, but realized the shock of the blow had gone straight to my cock. I’d never been so hard in all my life.

  “Again!” I commanded, and she slapped the other side of my face, her nail catching on my cheek, leaving a deep cut.

  I smiled, then growled. I’d never felt so alive with another person. I grabbed her by the hem of her tiny skirt, yanking her toward me. I tore her blouse open with a single swipe of my right hand. Now her cry was dotted with the sound of tiny crystal buttons as they bounced off the glass tabletop.

  My mouth was on her throat in a second, like a vampire would do. I bit gently, but firmly into the softest flesh of her neck, feeling her carotid pulse in odd time against the pounding from her chest, fusing with the beat of my own blood as it engorged my thick cock to a point where it felt it would shatter if she didn’t take it into her mouth.

  I heard her own hands tearing fabric away from her own body, exposing her ample, naked breasts, which I migrated to very greedily as I deftly removed my own pants, freeing some of the pressure from my groin, but feeling a new kind take its place.

  “I told you I was going to come on your face, little boy,” she growled, pushing me back with such force, I actually tripped on my pants and landed on my ass on the soft rug in front of a huge, red, leather lounge.

  I looked up at her, impressed by a woman who finally knew what she wanted and how to say it. I followed the lines of her legs up to her glistening mound. I immediately noticed her flawless pale skin was distributed over her entire body, a perfect work of art.

  She straddled my face, resting her knees on the leather of the lounge, gripping my soft hair in both her hands firmly, but carefully. She wasn’t trying to push my face into her; she was trying to slow me from what I wanted. She was savoring each second of every moment.

  She held her head back, and her steaming, sodden snatch was just an inch from my mouth. My lips only managing to touch a wisp of her fine pubic down, which set her into immediate climax. I grabbed her buttocks firmly with both hands and she yielded, pushing her entire sex onto my waiting mouth, with her whole body dancing and shaking for a tremendous shuddering climax that I perpetuated with my tongue and lips.

  After a few minutes, her climax had slowed to a tremor, and the fire in her eyes told me that she was just getting started, which suited me. I was up for it.

  “Now, boy. As discussed, I want you to fuck me like a whore, do you understand?! Like a fucking whore, right here on my floor; me in my nine hundred dollar heels.”

  I didn’t need too much encouragement. In a second I had her facing away from me on her knees, her arms she had stretched forward in front of her on the furniture.

  I pulled behind her back, twisting both her hands with palms out gently as I brought them together behind her. I had made a handle to hold onto out of her arms.

  I was about to instruct her not to move without me telling her, when she screamed, “Say it! Tell me what you’re going to do to me! Tell me I’m a fucking little whore and get that huge fat dick inside me… Pleeeasse!”

  I noticed myself trembling, on my knees, primed to mount and fuck this amazing creature from behind. I held her arms behind her with one of mine, the other tracing the flawless skin across the small of her back, across the mounds of her buttocks, down to the heat between her spread thighs. The lightest touch from my fingertips had set her lips convulsing as she groaned out loud in frustration, practically whimpering.

  As her breathing grew more labored, I felt myself about to explode; a thick line of pre-come had connected to the back of her thigh after making its way down the whole length of my aching cock. She was able to feel even this and cried out as her own sex twitched and spasmed again, as she neared a second explosive climax before I’d even entered her.

  For once in my life I was lost for words. I could only concentrate on not coming, as I explored her opening with the hard smoothness of my bulging tip, and it was so large I had to make several passes around her creamy entrance, then tiny presses as she widened her warmth to accommodate me.

  Her moans had turned to low growling sounds and, without warning, she thrust her entire body back onto me, taking the entire length of my manhood up and deep inside her. I felt myself stiffen as her own body gripped mine, a perfect fit as I pulled her arms back toward me.

  Her cry was a mixture of pleasure, relief and emotional turmoil. I felt my own heart swelling in my chest as we both began to move frantically, feeling every inch of the inside of her as if it were a new sensation. Like I was inside a woman for the first time.

  I let her arms go as we continued, mostly because we were both focused on the sensations of the other, and she needed her arms and hands to steady herself. I was grateful to have both my own hands back, so I could continue to explore the rest of her back, thighs and buttocks with my broad hands as she ground herself furiously on me.

  I wanted to hold it, to keep going and show her how great I was, that’s what I usually did. This time, I felt safe enough to let it go, to feel myself explode into her warmth as she too arched and shook into another convulsive climax which combined with the force of my own. I heard us both cry out, emotionally free as we spent ourselves, forgetting who we even were, or who we were even pretending to be to ourselves or to each other.

  Eight

  Mikey

  I must have dozed off, we both did. I was used to waking up in strange places at odd hours, but this was one of the better places I’d seen. It smelled nice too, and I had to remember to ask her what it was.

  We’d both lain there, a strange and soggy, tangled mess. Our own clothes on the floor beneath us were now the only witnesses to what we’d just done. The lounge was big enough for us both to stretch out on, and yet we were intertwined somehow with one another. Opening my eyes, seeing where I was, well that was my usual cue to get the fuck out and get back to being whatever I thought I was.

  This was different though. I didn�
�t feel like running and it didn’t bother me that the idea of who I thought I was had just had a huge hole punched into it. I felt calm. I felt safe. I realized at that moment that I’d never felt safe my whole life.

  I heard myself breathing in deeply through my nose, then a long sigh out as I sat up, perched on the edge of that giant, red, leather cliff, ready to fly, like usual. I reached down for my clothes, but felt her hand on my back.

  “Is this the part where you go, leaving them to sleep, to forget you after you shake their world?”

  She wasn’t being mean, it was like she was inside my head reading the story of my life. I humphed in friendly agreement as I examined my crumpled pants, checking that they still worked.

  “I want you to stay, but not for the reason you think,” I heard her whisper from behind me.

  I was gradually reconstituting. Whatever magic had taken place, whatever spell had been cast, was diminishing. I was Mikey Leone, and I had to go now. It was her turn to sigh as she saw my muscles tensing, twitching in anticipation. To leave.

  I stood up, dressing with my back to her. I couldn’t look. I knew that if I did, I’d change my mind and say or do something that Mikey Leone never would. I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet, anyway.

  Looking at the huge smoked-glass coffee table, our drinks seemed further apart, untouched. The money and packet of cocaine sat like awkward backdrops, like a strange set of a play that nobody had come to see.

  I was compelled to take more cocaine, but I didn’t need to. It was the clearest thought I’d had about my drug use, ever. This whole night had shattered my illusions about who I thought I was, and what I did. It felt fucking fantastic, terrifyingly fantastic. I know now, if I’d had the same realizations in a trailer park, or a one-roomed ghetto apartment; things might have gone differently. Being around wealth and nice things always elevated the mind, even when it was being dismantled.