Screwing the Mob
Page 20
I stare at my reflection. I look ready to take a long stroll down Hollywood Boulevard, but tonight isn’t about putting on a show for the masses. It’s about grabbing the attention of one person who is slipping through my fingers more and more with each passing day.
He won’t come to me, so tonight, I’m going to him.
I secure the wig with a few more bobby pins and slip my feet into shoes that should be designated as illegal weapons since I could literally slice through someone’s chest with the spiky heels.
I just want Nico back, the way he was before he pulled that trigger, the way he was when we were just sneaking around. The way he was when we were happy.
It didn’t last for too long, but it was perfect.
I need that perfection back, and it all starts tonight. I have to grab control of this spiraling situation before it’s too late. I have to be the strong one right now…for both of our sakes.
I grab my clutch bag and take a few tentative steps into the hallway of my parents’ house. Luckily, Max is already at the club, and Mom and Dad are out. Nobody will be around to witness my slutty transformation, and that’s a damn good thing since this dress really doesn’t leave much to the imagination. It could, in fact, get me thrown in jail.
I dip my head low as I push open the front door and pull it closed behind me. I don’t need anyone seeing me loitering here. I look like a freaking prostitute, albeit a high-priced one.
My heart thumps in my chest as I take quick, tiny steps toward my car. Short, sharp pants escape my lips. The thought of taking a deep breath would be laughable if I could squeeze one out. I’m wrapped so tight in this pleather-spandex fabric mix, I’m surprised my eyeballs haven’t popped out of my head from the pressure.
Somehow, I slide into the driver’s seat of my Infinity RS50. I pull off one heel, slip on a flip flop, and press the button to start the ignition since I can’t very well drive in stilts. I know what I’m doing. I know where I’m going. I just don’t have any fucking clue what to expect when I get there.
I’ve been warned more times than I can count to stay far away from Culaccino, Nico’s very exclusive, very mysterious club in downtown Manhattan, and I’ve listened. For the most part, anyway. Curiosity had grabbed hold on occasion, and yeah, there were times I’d take a drive into the meat-packing district while I was still mooning over Nico—the manwhore version of my boyfriend from long ago.
Nico, my parents, Max…they’d all skin me alive if they knew where I was headed, and in this glorified bathing suit, of all things.
I don’t care. I’m desperate. Desperate for Nico and for us to go back to the way things were before that night.
That’s why I’m in disguise. Nobody will know I’m there until I want them to.
It’s a perfect plan meant to rekindle what Nico and I have been missing for the past four months. It’s not just the sex…it’s everything else. He can fuck me six ways from Sunday, and it’s always incredible. Physically.
But our connection has been broken for too long, and tonight, I’m going to repair it.
I drive past the club entrance. The street is dark and narrow, and there are only a few dimly lit awnings. It’s understated, at least from the outside.
I can only guess what goes on inside, of course, because nobody tells me anything. Everyone wants to protect Shaye, but they don’t realize that Shaye is a big girl with an even bigger plan.
I pull around a corner and find an empty spot. It’s tight as hell, but I manage to squeeze my car into it with some room in the front and back. Miraculous. I normally suck at parallel parking, so the stars must be aligned for me. I’ll take it as a positive sign.
My spikes click on the pavement as I approach the club. I nibble at my nail and scour the small groups of people gathering in front of the roped-off area. There is no sign of paparazzi lurking in the shadows, desperate to snap an incriminating photo. Judging by the line of high-end cars parked in the street, it looks like the club’s regular millionaire clientele, not the Hollywood elite crowd. I slip into a group of women dressed like me. Jesus, there’s a lot of coochie on display tonight. My pulse throbs as I lower my head and follow them in once the door attendant waves us inside. A blonde in front of me flips her hair over her shoulder, strands landing in my thick lip gloss. I sputter as quietly as I can and manage to detach it from my lips before she can turn around.
Straight through the entranceway is a hallway that leads to what looks and sounds like a dance club. But there’s another roped-off area to the left leading in a different direction. Downstairs. Into the underbelly. My gut tells me that’s where I want to be. I twist around in the darkened entryway, squinting at the women in front of me. They all move forward toward a staircase lit only along the floor. Beefy security-type guys don’t let everyone through, though. They pull aside only a select few women and men, me included. Everyone else is waved to the main club area. Everything is black. I can’t see six inches in front of me. I feel bodies moving against me, urging me forward. Low voices rumble through me and large hands slide over my hips and ass. My throat tightens. Shit, what the hell did I just walk into? What kind of club is this, anyway?
“Stay close to the side.” A low voice whispers against my hair, and a single chill slides down my spine. “Otherwise you’ll get trampled by the freaks.”
I nod, but don’t dare to utter a reply. I have no idea who is behind me or what he wants. No, scratch that. I know exactly what he wants, but there’s no fucking way I’m going to give him any sign of encouragement. I pull my skirt down as far as it will go, which is really not saying much.
Oh, God, what the hell am I doing here?
“You’ve never been here before, have you?” The voice murmurs against my ear again as we move closer to the stairs, and panic grips me. I reach out for the hand rail and take one tentative step into the dungeon of this…this…place.
I nod, still refusing to respond, still facing forward, moving even closer to the blonde woman with all the hair. I’d gladly eat every strand if it meant I can get away from this jerkoff behind me. I don’t know if they were his hands all over my ass or someone else’s, but I want to stay far, far away from wandering fingers.
“Don’t be nervous. Once we get downstairs, you’ll see how much fun it can be.” Fingertips trail my arm and the hairs immediately stand on end. I yank it away as if I’ve been stung by an angry wasp. A gravelly laugh vibrates against my neck, and I clutch the railing. Christ, could we move any slower? I just want to separate myself from this asshole and find Nico.
Not my brightest idea, although my plan was to remain undetected.
So far none of Nico’s thug bouncers have picked me out of the crowd, although how could they in this freaking pitch blackness? Besides, my disguise is foolproof!
I can still feel the guy’s hot breath on my skin. I didn’t acknowledge his innuendo, yet he’s still glued to my back. Fuck. I need to break away as soon as I get a clear path. My foot finally hits the bottom step and the crowd spills into a dim corridor illuminated only by red and purple strobe lights. The pulsating electronic dance beats vibrate the floor beneath my feet, making my escape that much harder. I manage to sidestep the woman in front of me, attempting to evade my stalker. I back away from the crowd, twisting away to gather my bearings. My foot slams into something hard and a loud moan makes me jump about two feet into the air. I let out a yelp, ready to apologize and my jaw drops to the floor, right about where my eyes landed a split second earlier.
Two naked, sweaty, writhing bodies are entwined at my feet. And I seriously fucking doubt they felt the hard spike of my heel. Judging by their grunts and groans, they are completely unfazed by anything and everything around them. Jesus, this place is like PornHub, up close and very freaking personal. I swallow a gasp, trying like hell to peel my eyes off of them, but I can’t. For as shocked at what I’m seeing right now, I’m equally turned on. Heat pools between my legs, and my knees buckle enough that I need to back against the
wall next to them as I continue to watch. Beads of perspiration pop up along the back of my neck, and I bring a hand to my heaving chest, dragging my fingertips down into my—
My fingers freeze. Holy cow! What in the hell am I doing? This is a freaking sex den! Am I going to start feeling myself up out here? For these strangers?
I yank my gaze away from the people on the floor and look for something, anything to keep my attention off the man who is now fucking his playmate in the ass. Right out in the open!
I wobble slightly in my heels, squinting as I walk farther down the hallway. This place kind of reminds me of the Halloween parade in the West Village, except way raunchier. And with more nudity. More moans and mewls surround me, and I step around the bodies contorted on the carpet at my feet. Nobody is watching me, but I’m fucking watching all of them, including the people who are viewing this sexfest. Some guys are jerking themselves off, some women are sucking the men off. People are topless, pantless, or completely naked. The area farther down the hallway is blanketed in blacklights, which makes this whole scenario that much more taboo.
I’ve never felt so turned on in my life.
And I’ve never felt so much like a bad girl…a bad girl in need of a spanking.
I clutch the sides of my head. Jesus, Shaye! Remember why you’re here! Get a fucking hold of yourself and find your boyfriend!
“A little too much too soon for you?”
I spin around, clutching the wall as I lose balance for what seems like the millionth time tonight. “I, uh…”
The man from the staircase smirks at me in the darkness. I recognize his gravelly voice, the one that was plastered against my ear not too long ago. Dammit, I thought I’d lost him.
He shifts slightly in the shadows, and my throat tightens like it’s caught in a vise. Those eyes…they blare with a five-alarm warning to run the fuck away as fast as possible. Sinister black beads that scream malice stare back at me. Longish, dark hair falls over one eye as he leans against the opposite wall. “You look like you’ll fit right in here.” He straightens up and slowly walks toward me. A swirl of a heady musk scent assaults my nostrils. “If you have the right partner to show you the ropes.”
“I-I…” Shit! If I didn’t want the right partner, I wouldn’t be here, would I? This guy makes my skin crawl, and it’s more than just his leer. If I back away any farther, I’ll end up tripping over a woman who just appeared wearing large white bunny ears and pasties. Nothing else, mind you. That’s the extent of her costume.
He creeps closer toward me, sidestepping the show in his path. My heart thuds, the pounding sound reverberating between my ears. These heels may make me look the part, but they sure make it hard to move. The scent of carnal sex infiltrates my senses, and my head is woozy from the pure lust exhibited by these people. I should have had a shot of vodka before coming down here…or ten.
My eyes dart left and right. Where the fuck is Nico?
“The first time is always the hardest.”
Oh my God, this guy is just relentless. I force a smile and flip my fake, dark hair over my shoulder. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m just fine.”
“You are.” He folds his arms over his broad chest, his menacing dark eyes narrowed. “Maybe the next time we see each other you’ll be a little more willing to try things.”
My spine stiffens, and I puff out my chest. Fuck him if he thinks I’ll cower. “I’m sure I will be, just with someone else.” I flash a toothy grin and try my luck at stepping over a dom whipping her naked sub. Jesus, there’s nothing that’s not being done down here…what the hell have I stepped into?
I’d thought Nico wanted to keep me away from here because of the drugs and the guns. I had no idea he was running an underground sex den. And truth be told, I still can’t decide if I’m more horrified, shocked, or turned on by what is quite literally coming before my eyes.
I navigate the thick carpet in my heels, trying to avoid any grooves and costumed bodies in the midst of their respective sex shows. Another chill slides down my back, and I can still feel the guy’s eyes on me. Once I round the corner, I take a quick peek over my shoulder just to see if he’s still back by the staircase, but he’s gone. I let out an unsteady breath, again wondering why I couldn’t have just done the normal thing and gone to Victoria’s Secret for some new lingerie to spark the flames instead of showing up here…instead of sparking flames, I literally jumped into the fire with this plan of mine.
I slink into a corner, just outside of a room where two masked men are fucking a woman. They’re double-teaming her, right in the open, with about ten people watching, moaning, flicking their beans, and stroking their cocks. My mouth falls open, and I hate to admit it, but everything on my body is currently tingling…and I mean everything. These are the most erotic scenes I have ever seen in my life, and while my mind tells me I should be appalled, my body screams ‘fuck me now!’ Yet, the only one I want to be fucking is Nico and I can’t seem to find him anywhere.
The people around me who aren’t yet undressed are shedding layers faster than these guys can pump their dicks into the women sandwiched between them. A hand grazes the small of my back, but I ignore it because I’m just too damn entranced by what’s going on in front of me. Top guy is pounding into the woman, his mouth working both of her fake tits…yes, so fake…and bottom guy slides in and out of her ass, his mouth assaulting her neck. And the screams coming from her mouth…the cries to God, who most certainly is appalled, by the way…the pleas to fuck her harder…it all makes me want to strip out of this dress and start finger-fucking myself.
Oh Lord, am I a bad girl? I can’t even say it’s Nico’s fault, either. This is all me.
I bite down on my lower lip, debating about whether or not I should inconspicuously slide a finger up the side of my skirt. The music pulsates, adding to the erotic aura of this taboo scene. I am so consumed with lust I can barely breathe. Talk about complete sensory overload. The colored lights, the pounding beats, every accidental nudge by someone angling to get a closer look at the raunchy, but so very enticing scene that is playing out before them…God, I need to get laid.
Which brings me back to the reason why I’m here in the first place. I stumble backward, my heel catching on some guy’s shoe. I turn to mutter a quick ‘I’m sorry,’ but he’s so entranced with the girl getting fucked six ways from Sunday that I don’t even think he noticed I impaled his toe.
A large hand lands on the small of my back, steadying me. But before I can twist my body around to tell the owner of said hand to fuck off, the whole arm snakes its way around my waist, a strong chest pressing against my back. My spine stiffens at the foreign assault on my body, and the heat of his breath singes the back of my neck. But it’s not the stale stench of scotch that teases my nostrils.
It’s a much more familiar scent…one of my favorites, actually.
Watermelon Jolly Rancher.
Nico.
That motherfucker!
“You look tense. First time?” he murmurs against my ear.
Rage bubbles in my veins and my hand twitches at my side, aching to twist around and smack the shit out of him. But as much as I’d wanted to surprise him and rekindle our connection, I’m fighting the urge to pummel the crap out of him for trying to hit on me right now. A stranger, as far as he knows! My chest tightens. Is this his game? And Max? My rat ass brother must know what Nico has been up to, and yet he never said a goddamn word. Sonofabitch. They’re both dead to me.
I give a quick nod since I don’t want Nico to hear my voice. Yet. I am such an idiot! I swallow hard to find a golf ball-sized lump lodged in my throat. How could he? Jesus Christ, I knew there was some seedy shit that went on here, but I never imagined he’d be unfaithful.
I’m so fucking naïve!
He still hasn’t seen my face, but his grip tightens around my waist. “Come with me. I have a private room. Let me relax you.”
My eyes sting with tears, and I have to bite my lip to keep the
expletives from exploding out of my mouth. I blink fast, staring up at the ceiling. If this is how he plays, better that I find out now before I’m too devastated by his betrayal.
Images of Nico in his elusive private room screwing random women with fake boobs and killer bodies rapidly wallpaper my mind as the seconds pass. The threads of my heart have already begun to unravel. Oh, crap. Who am I trying to kid? I’m already beyond devastation.
Christ, how much more pathetic can I be?
I spin around and peel his hand off my waist. “You are fucking disgusting!” I hiss, pushing past him and the rest of the onlookers who are much more interested in the threesome that has just become a full-on gang bang.
He grabs my wrist before I can navigate this damn carpet in these heels and flips me around so my back is against the wall. Electronica pounds with such force that I can barely make out his next words. “You want to make me work for it?” he growls at me. His hand reaches under my dress, sliding against my lace thong. “This pussy is dripping for me. I know you want it.”
I’d love to say I didn’t hear what he said. But I did. And I can’t unhear it.
I wiggle in his grasp, gritting my teeth. “Let me go, you scumbag!”
“Why are you struggling?” Nico’s lips curl into a sexy smirk as he leans farther into me. “Is that the kind of game you want to play tonight, Shaye? You missed my cock so much that you came here to find it?”
I gasp. “H-how did you know it was me?”
He runs a hand down the front of my dress, his breath hot against my skin. “You think I wouldn’t recognize this body?” His head dips lower, lips scorching a path down toward my breasts as his voice nuzzles my skin. “This neck, these hips, this ass…you think you could ever fool me? You really thought a wig would throw me off?”
I let out a deep sigh and throw my head back, giving him full access. He can peel me out of this dress right here and now, and I’d be just fine with it.
“I thought you were trying to hit on me,” I mumble.
“I was. Did it work?”