by Darcy Ray
A deep throaty laugh erupts from Frank which makes me drag my eyes up his authoritative form. Standing only a few inches closer with his arms crossed over his chest, he lifts his chin and with a gravelly voice, he says, "You sure you know what you’re doing? My princess likes it rough, and her pussy is fucking greedy. If you wanna tap out, now would be the chance."
Scoffing at Frank’s comment, Jaime's smooth hand glides over the curve of my ass and up my back. Once he reaches my shoulders, he pushes them down. I can hear Jaime’s response through the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. ”No worries, old man, I can handle her. I don't want you breaking a hip." Their egos are battling each other, and the testosterone permeating the air has me trying to squeeze my thighs together as my core starts to ooze more of my nectar.
Jaime kicks my feet apart, which spreads my legs wide, and then he grabs my wrist to pin them behind my back. The only warning I get to brace for him is pressure from the tip of his dick lining up with my entrance. This time, he slides in slowly but doesn't stop until he is fully seated inside me. The position he has me in is keeping me from moving around, and my thick turquoise waves are blocking my view. Growing frustrated with his lack of movement, I swivel my hips in hopes of achieving some much-needed friction to get me back on the edge of euphoria.
In response to my movement, Jaime lets out a grunt and finally start to fuck me. With every thrust, he picks up speed until he is finally back to his punishing pace, which turns my moans into whimpers, and they quickly become screams of pleasure. Through my messy hair, I can see Frank walking over until he stops right in front of me.
With this thick, calloused fingers, he moves the hair of my face and runs his hand down my face until he gets to my jaw. With a steady grip, he lifts my head until I can no longer arch my neck, and what I see in front of me instantly makes my mouth water. Bobbing not even an inch from my face is Frank's rigid shaft, so with a flick of my tongue, I guide it into my waiting mouth. Frank’s hand curls into my locks, allowing him to grip a handful, and he starts to fuck my mouth without restraint. The dual penetration overwhelms my senses and makes the tight ball of pleasure grow bigger and bigger. I'm almost to the verge of exploding, but I just can't get enough.
Jaime must be sensing the battle I'm fighting, because I feel something wet land on my puckering rosebud, followed by one of his digits. The feeling of all three of my holes filled suddenly becomes too much, and I explode. White spots flash across my vision and tremors pulse through my pussy that is milking Jaime, who stills and grunts as he spills his seed inside me. Frank follows right after and lets out a bellow as his cum spills down my throat. I make sure to swallow every last drop as he starts to pull out of my mouth.
Frank relaxes his grip on my hair and allows me to lay my head down on the cool desk to catch my breath. Jaime lets go of my wrists, staying rooted deep inside of me before he collapses on top of me. The thudding of his heart beats through his chest, and together we take deep calming breaths. In front of me, Frank tucks himself away, steps to the side, and picks something off the ground. The next thing I know, there is a tissue in my face. With gentle hands, he wipes away the mess that comes from giving head—the tears and snot.
After a few minutes, Jaime finally lifts himself off me and pulls out, leaving me empty and full all at the same time. With a grunt, he motions to the tissues and says, "You mind handing me that? I need to clean our girl up." There's no point in even arguing with him. My body is too exhausted to want to move, let alone clean up the juices that are leaking from me. After some shuffling, Jaime quickly cleans me up with the same amount of gentleness that Frank had, and helps me off the desk. My legs are shaky, and my hair is a mess, but damn, I feel fucking amazing. Letting out a sigh of relief, I straighten my skirt and fix my shirt.
Looking around my office, I see all my desk items scattered around on the floor. With a wave of my hand, I motion to Jaime and say, "Don't forget to clean up your mess. I spent hours getting this damn desk organized." With the desk in the forefront of my mind again, my eyes glance down to the bottom drawer. Squatting down, I remove the items in the hidden compartment and close the drawer, making sure to lock it in the process. Straightening up, I grab my phone and keys and start to make my way out of the room.
Just as I open the door to my office, Jaime says, "That's it? You're just going to leave?"
With my back to him, I give him a shrug and say, "What did you expect Jaime? Cuddling and whispering sweet nothings?" Turning to face him, I see confusion and hurt etched on his face. "Look, I got shit I have to handle, and you have to get ready for work. I'll text you later, mkay?" Pursing his lips, he nods his head and quickly starts to collect his clothing to get dressed. Shaking my head, I turn to the door and walk out, leaving Frank and Jaime behind.
Chapter Five
It's been two weeks since my rendezvous with Jaime and Frank in my office. Since then, I haven't heard a single thing from Jaime. From reports that Frank is giving me, Jaime is still alive and kicking—going from work to home, and that's it. I honestly don't have the time nor patience to deal with pouting. Ever since I became boss, my schedule has been jam-packed. On top of all that, I'm considered the weakling. I have no experience doing this whatsoever, so I need to prove my place and learn whatever I can as fast as I can.
Thankfully, all of Dominik's documents have been very informative and have served as my study guide. Its like he set it up that way on purpose. As for the papers that were in the hidden compartment in the bottom drawer? They sit in my purse, burning a hole, begging to be looked at. I know that they have a deeper meaning than I can handle at the moment, so I keep them tucked away, out of sight, and out of my mind. Those kind of distractions are not something I need right now, not when I'm meeting the import dealer and a handful of the prostitutes that work for me.
Viktor, Joe, Godfrey, Frank, and I are all piled into Godfrey's burgundy Range Rover as we make our way over to a warehouse about thirty miles out of town. I've never been to this warehouse, but this is a regular place for Vik, so we let him drive. With his wounds fully healed and all the stitches out, he can start resuming his normal shit. I don't know who is more excited out of the five of us. Viktor because I'm allowing him to work again, or us, because we don't have to listen to his bitching about being stuck on the couch.
I don't care how overprotective I was being. He was injured, and the doctor ordered him to stay off his feet. Even with the all clear, I'm still making him take it easy. The thought of possibly losing someone else turns my veins into ice. Fear flows through the frozen channels and shoots directly to my heart. Fighting back the urge to grab my chest, I ball my hands into fists and squeeze. The gentle purr from the engine mixed with the humming from one of the guys slowly calms me. The conversation they are having is a simple reminder that they are there. I don't catch what they are saying, but from the bits and pieces I do catch, it's a light topic.
For the rest of the ride, we all sit in peaceful silence, completely absorbed in our phones, catching up on the encrypted messages and text messages. Times like these seem to happen more and more. With every day that goes by, I get less time to spend with my guys, less time to myself, and no time to breathe.
I'm not sure how much time has passed since the last word was spoken, but it's been long enough that I startle when Joe speaks, jump a little in my seat. Licking my lips to moisten them, I turn toward him and confess to being distracted. "What was that? I honestly wasn't paying attention." I try to clear my throat, but its thick from being too dry. Reaching down, I take a quick swig of water, but as I finish, a rogue droplet slides down my chin. Before I can wipe it away, Joe leans forward and gently caresses his finger over my chin, collecting the droplet.
My eyes track his hand as he slowly brings it up to his parted lips. With a flick of his tongue, he collects it. The ice inside of me instantly thaws from the pure, raw masculinity sitting so close to me. The heat starts to spread and heads straight to my core, which makes it t
hrob with desire. Pulling my gaze from his mouth, I trail up his strong features until I reach his waiting blue eyes. Knowledge of the effect he has on me shines in his deep blues.
Laughing, he repeats what he said. "We should be arriving in twenty minutes or so. I sent a mass message to all the bitches and told them to show up. Also, I got word that there is a group of girls wanting to get worked in."
The fire inside me dims at the thought of those girls wanting to become ladies of the night. I bet most of them will be younger than twenty-five, and some of the others will probably be just over seventeen. Recalling what it was like for me when I was in their position, I know I have to change things to ensure they don’t have to deal with the same shit I did—the cold nights, the hollow emptiness of hunger, and the excessive thirst from not having clean water in days. I may be the boss of a notorious crime organization, but that doesn't mean the people who work for me have to suffer. Well, until they fuck me over. Then they will wish they stayed in the infested building that they came from.
As their employer, I need to make sure they are in optimal health to earn me the most amount of money. That not only includes their physical health but their mental health as well. Taking another quick swig of water, I twist the cap back into place and turn my attention back to Joe, who is texting up a storm. I nudge his knee to get his attention, and with a grunt, he responds, "What’s up sweets?"
"Do we have a doctor for these girls, and when was their last screening for diseases?" More questions build up behind my lips, but Joe holds out a hand to stop me before I can voice them.
With a glint of humor in his eyes, he waves me off, and says, "I got it all covered. Everyone gets screened every thirty days, condoms and birth control are mandatory, and psych evaluations are every three months. Dominik owned an apartment building just on the edge of town, and that's where they stay." Knowing that he has everything under control removes some stress that I didn't realize I was carrying around.
With one thing off my mind, I turn in my seat so that I can face Viktor. His eyes are trained on the road, but as we drive over a bump in the road, I notice a grimace flash across his face. I know asking about it won’t lead anywhere, so instead, I focus on the deal that lays ahead. From the information Vik gave me earlier in the week, the dealer we’re meeting with is one of our best importers. The drugs are one hundred percent pure, and the guns are unmarked and made with the strongest quality metal. For as much as we pay, I expect nothing less.
Not much later, we pull up to a privacy fence that stands at least ten feet tall with no way to peek inside. On the driver side of the SUV, there is a keypad and intercom system. Leaning out the window, Viktor enters the code and presses a button which I assume buzzes the security room. Immediately a harsh yet familiar voice sounds through the intercom. "Who the fuck is it?!"
A haggard cough gets cut off as he lets go of the intercom button and I can't help but smile. It's been nearly ten years, and I still remember the voice that grumbled through the phone when I made my life-changing call. Out of the corner of his eye, Viktor sees the smirk on my face and raises an eyebrow at me. Without taking his eyes off me, he pushes the button again and says, "Ay old man, it’s Viktor. I got the boss with me." The crackling static of the intercom is the only response we get, but right after it ends, the mammoth gates slide open, revealing a large compound.
As we drive in, I take in the heavy security guarding the area—two at the entrance, two at the door of the compound, four walking in intervals around the fence line, and two in towers on either side of the property. They don't fuck around here. Viktor doesn't stop driving until we pull up to the massive compound. After a few ticks, a sliding door starts to roll up, exposing the inner workings of the facility. Everything is open and exposed except for an area partitioned off into a sizable room. On the outside of the room, there are rows of shelves that nearly reach to the second floor. Every shelf is lined with wooden crates, each varying in size.
We finally come to a stop near the stairs that lead up to the second floor. Lost in taking in my surroundings, I don't realize that my door is open. Godfrey’s smooth hand glides over my cheek, startling me. With an embarrassed grin, I slide out and join the rest of the guys near the bottom of the steps. No one says anything as we ascend the stairs. The only sound is the loud clacking of my shoes against the grate and the beeping from the forklift roaming around the shelves.
As we reach the top of the stairs, we come upon a large sitting area and scattered around are all the ladies and the men that work for me in the prostitution ring. Dominik took pride in the pussy that worked for him. None of them have STDs, none of them are hooked on drugs, and they all have a place to call home. I wasn’t much different from them not too long ago. The only difference was my job title made it legal. Politicians didn't need to know I was fucking my clientele, that was my fucking business. Hell, I've even had a politician a time or two.
With a welcoming smile, I wave to them and say, "Thank you for being here on such short notice. Your respect is noted and appreciated. Today is going to be a long day, so when its time for you to meet with me, don't fuck around. There is still going to be a nightly quota to meet." Without waiting for the onslaught of questions, I walk past the door that Vikor is holding open for me.
On the other side, Joe stands with a bemused look on his face. As soon as the door is closed, he says, "Laying the law early, I see." Humor and appreciation pour from him, letting me know I haven't fucked up yet. Draping his arm over my shoulder, he starts to lead me down a short hallway. Bumping into my hip, I look up and see his shining blues staring down at me and with a smirk he says, "I know you're all new to this shit, but do what you think is best. If anything is questionable, one of us will let you know."
God, the warm and fuzzies are real with him. Lifting up on my tiptoes, I plant a quick yet passionate kiss on his waiting lips. As we separate, I smile up to him and confess, "I love you, babe. I’m probably going to make fucked-up decisions here and there because I am nowhere near perfect. But knowing I have y'all at my side to help me is more than I can hope for."
"Honestly, you only had a crash course training and Dominik's notes to go by. There haven't been any threats from the other gangs on the outskirts, and the income is still steadily increasing. Just focus on what you think is best, and the rest will work itself out." Moving up beside me, he pulls out his phone and shows me a picture. “As for now, you have a meeting with this guy. His name is Sasha, and he’s our main importer for weapons, their accessories, and some of the narcs that we distribute."
The man in the picture is not who I expected to see today. Instead of a brute, Sasha is prim and proper in a tailored business suit. Before I can assess his details any further, Joe leads us into a large meeting room where a glass-and-black-steel desk takes up most of the space. In the center of the sleek desk is a crystal decanter with some kind of amber liquor and a crystal vase holding a bouquet of Dominik’s signature roses. A pang shoots through my heart, but this time I hide it. I can't let his death continue to tear me down. I must remain strong and prove I was meant to be the boss.
Stepping up to the table, I run my nails on the glass and walk around to the front where my chair awaits. Instead of sitting, I observe the office and watch Viktor, Frank, and Joe walk to a nearly black window. Continuing my walk, I make my way around the table to join them. As I get closer, the details on the other side become clearer, and I realize we are looking at the area where our vehicle is parked. But instead of just our SUV, there is another one parked beside it. Men in black suits stand near the back passenger door, and from their movement, I can tell they are speaking into mics.
Speaking to anyone in general, I say, "I’m guessing that’s Sasha?" As soon as the words leave my lips, the man himself steps out of his vehicle and straightens his suit. "Well, I guess that answers my question." As if he can hear me, he turns his gaze up to the window. His gaze is so intense that goosebumps erupt over my skin. Yanking my eyes a
way, I turn to Viktor and say, "He can't see through this, right?"
Shaking his head, Vik turns from the window and walks up to me. Placing both of his hands on my shoulders, he says, "No doll, he can't." Planting a quick kiss on my forehead, he walks around the table and says, "I'm going to escort him up, make yourself comfortable."
Walking back to my chair, I plop down and look between Joe and Godfrey, who are both moving to take their seats. "Anything I need to know about this guy?"
With a grunt, Godfrey is the first to respond. "He doesn't know that you are the new boss. He is a playboy at heart but loyal to the bone. Sasha has worked for Dominik for over ten years and not once has the quality of his product been less than superb."
A scowl transforms Godfrey’s face into the dangerous assassin I know him as. Not understanding the shift in his attitude, I ask, "So why do you hate him?" He starts to shake his head in denial, but I stop him. "Don't lie to me. It's all over your face."
"He hates him because Sasha has asked Dominik for your hand in marriage several times. Dominik denied each request, but Sasha was still persistent in his quest to marry you." Joe's blunt statement leaves me shocked and a little appalled.
I don't get a chance to respond because Viktor chooses that moment to open the door and usher Sasha and his crew into the room. Hanging in the grasp of the last two guards is a large suitcase which they carefully lay at the opposite end of the desk from where I’m sitting. While everyone gets situated and seated, brief flashbacks of the massacre flash through my mind. Anxiety rockets through me and my heart starts to beat rapidly. My nails rhythmically tap on the table, and my leg starts to erratically bounce as I try to release some of the anxiety flowing through me.