by Renee Rose
Mob Mistress, Book Two of The Bossman Series © 2014 by Renee Rose
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.
For more information contact:
Riverdale Avenue Books
5676 Riverdale Avenue
Riverdale, NY 10471.
www.riverdaleavebooks.com
Design by www.formatting4U.com
Cover by Insatiable Fantasy Designs Inc.
Digital ISBN 978-1-62601-145-8
Print ISBN 978-1-62601-146-5
First Edition January 2015
What they are saying about The Bossman by Renee Rose
**Winner of Eroticon USA’s “Next Top Erotic Author” contest**
“This was a fantastic and gripping read which demonstrates that Renee Rose’s storytelling just gets better and better.” --Spanking Romance Reviews
“I’ve never read a spanking book that went so deep... .Renee Rose writes spanking love stories, beautifully.” --Cariad’s Sizzling Pages
“The Bossman hits the ground running, my very favourite way for a story to start. The dialogue between Joey and Sophie is fun, real and knocks backwards and forwards like watching a tennis match.” --Erotica for All
“The Bossman is an erotic mafia romance that should not be missed by lovers of dominant heroes who like to engage in erotic and disciplinary spankings.” --The Romance Reviews
“The Bossman was a rollercoaster that I did not want to get off” --Mad in Wonderland Reviews
“This was a quick read but I did not feel cheated by the length of the book. Renee Rose packs a full story into a small package, complete with complex, fun, sexy characters and enough hot, spanking sex to fill a novel!” ~ Guilty Pleasures
“The Bossman was an absolute smash! Renee Rose has a way with words that draws the reader into the story and makes her experience every emotion of the protagonist.” --Bottoms Up Book Review
Chapter One
“So you’re letting me do anything I want, right?” Lexi asked her client and friend Gina, as she pushed her into the salon chair. She had offered Gina a free cut and color if she would model for her portfolio.
Gina tossed her dark hair. “Yes. I trust you.”
She flicked a plastic cape around Gina’s shoulders. With a plan in mind, she began to mix the hair dye in plastic bowls.
“So why do you need new portfolio pictures?”
Using a comb, Lexi separated a section of Gina’s hair and placed a piece of foil underneath to paint the first color. “I’m applying for a training job with Stellar Hair Color. If I got it, they would fly me all over the country to teach people how to use their dyes.”
“Ooh, that sounds glamorous.”
“I know, and the pay is $80,000 a year.”
“Wow!”
“Which means I probably have no chance.” She painted another section of Gina’s hair.
“Don’t say that. You deserve that kind of salary. And I know you could use the money,” Gina said.
“Right?” she chimed in. “But even if I got the job, the pay wouldn’t come soon enough. I am screwed right now. I got served with an eviction notice on my apartment and I owe the salon for three months rent.”
“Shit.”
“I know.” With a pile of medical bills from a car accident the year before, as well as the resulting unpaid absence from work, Lexi just hadn’t been able to climb out of debt. “I’m thinking about filing bankruptcy,” she confided. “But that still doesn’t help me with the apartment situation.”
“Well, you can crash with me if you get evicted,” Gina offered. “And I do think you should look into bankruptcy. It’s not fair for you to become homeless over medical bills! If we lived in Canada, all your medical expenses would have been taken care of by the government.”
“Thanks,” she sighed, the heaviness of her dilemma not helped by her friend’s political commentary.
“You know what you need?” Gina asked, perking up.
“What?”
“A sugar daddy.”
“Yeah, right.”
“No, really. I’m serious. And I totally know the guy.”
She raised one eyebrow and met her friend’s gaze in the mirror. “Oh really?”
Gina laughed. “Yes. His name is Bobby Manghini. He’s a regular at Plush,” she said, referring to the nightclub where she worked as a manager. “I know he’s sugar daddy material because his last mistress can’t get over him. She hangs out all the time hoping to run into him and wheedle her way back into his wallet. According to her, he put her in a fancy apartment and gave her cash every time they were together.”
“So basically, she was a whore.”
“Yeah... maybe. But he’s totally hot. I’d do him for a fancy apartment in a heartbeat if I were single.”
Lexi snorted, but desperation made the suggestion tempting. “So where does he get all his money to keep mistresses in fancy apartments?”
“Well…” Gina hesitated. “I’m pretty sure he’s mafia.”
“Oh great! Thanks a lot! You’re trying to set me up to be a mob mistress? No thank you!”
“What do they call them—goomahs?” Gina giggled.
“Goomahs? Where did you hear that?”
“The Sopranos. Don’t you know everything they show on TV is real?” Gina grinned over her shoulder at her. “But really, he’s a good guy — always a gentleman. Tips big. Totally hot. I think you should just come down and meet him. Come Friday night — he’s almost always there.”
“Nah, I’m not that desperate. I wouldn’t want to wake up with a horse head in my bed or something.
* * * * *
“Hey, Sophie, you look amazing,” Bobby said, kissing his cousin’s new wife on each cheek when she greeted him at their door. She had given birth just a few months ago, but had already lost most of the baby weight, apart from the extra curves from breastfeeding. “How are you and your little girl?”
“We’re great. Sadie’s sleeping.”
“Aw, you’re not going to wake her up so I can play with her?” he teased.
Sophie snorted.
“No really, thanks for having us over. I’m sure you have your hands full enough without a bunch of guys playing poker in your new place.”
“My pleasure — come on in,” she said, standing back to usher him into their apartment. “They’re in Joey’s office — down the hall, second door on the right.”
He followed her directions and opened the door to the smell of cigar smoke.
“I can’t believe Sophie let you have poker night with a new baby!” he said to Joey as he shook hands and gave him a man-hug, then moved on to greet Joey’s brother, Don Alberto and another Family member, Dean. Joey had married Sophie almost a year ago and from what he understood, had had stepped out of the Family business because of her.
“Yeah, it was her idea,” Joey said as they settled back into their seats. “Shut the door so the smoke doesn’t get out,” he said. The window stood propped open and an air filter hummed in the corner.
“She’s afraid I’ll miss you guys too much with Boom Booms gone,” Joey said, referring to his strip club and their former poker haunt, which had burned down after a bomb exploded there last year. A light tap on the door sounded and it swung open. Sophie came in, carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres.
“Ooh, did you make these meatballs?” Bobby asked, using a toothpick to stab one when she set the tray in front of them.
“I sure did.”
The meat melted in his mouth. “Delicious,” he declared. “Thanks, Sophie.” Turning to the men, he said, “I don’t know what you guys were talking about
— she seems totally sweet to me. Not a ball-buster at all.”
Sophie’s smile faded.
“I’m just kidding!” he exclaimed, seeing she looked hurt. “Sorry! I should’ve known better than to tease an over-tired new mother.”
Sophie relaxed, the pretty smile returning to her face. Joey stood up and wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck.
“Don’t worry,” Joey murmured in Sophie’s ear. “Everyone knows you’re a good little wife.”
She rolled her eyes and smiled when he released her, shaking her head as she walked out. He gave her a little slap on the ass and the look she tossed over her shoulder to him had bedroom written all over it.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said to Joey when the door shut.
“It’s okay. She’s sensitive about you guys thinking she’s like her ma.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, remembering Sophie’s mother had always hated the Family and her dad ended up getting killed in a fight over it.
Well, Sophie had made Joey quit the business, so there must be some similarity there. Not that he was going to say anything. If Al, the Family don and Joey’s older brother let him out, it was none of his business.
“What are you up to these days?”
“Money management,” Joey said with a grin.
“Wasn’t that what you always did?”
“Yeah, now I just work the legitimate investment side.”
He stood and walked to the wet bar to pour himself a glass of Glenlivet on the rocks. Bobby also stayed mostly legit, running the Family construction and real estate companies, which he kept completely above-board, other than calling in favors and making deals with politicians. “Does that mean you’re still available to advise?”
Joey nodded. “Of course. You think we’re not still family?”
“All right, glad to hear it. So, marriage must be treating you well,” he observed as Dean dealt him in.
“Yeah.” Joey leaned back in his chair and took a puff on a cigar. He looked more content than Bobby had ever seen him, actually.
“What about you, Dean?” he asked the other man, whose wife had died of breast cancer four years before. “You ever consider remarrying?”
“Me?” Dean made a scoffing sound. “Nah. I got my sister to look after the kids, and they wouldn’t want a new ma.”
“What about getting laid?” Al asked, stubbing out his cigar, looking at Dean with narrowed eyes. “Because that’s important. Keeps the prostate working, at least that’s what the doctor says. Are you getting any?”
Dean shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
Bobby piped in, “You should do what I do — skip the second wife and just take a goomah.” He threw a twenty into the pot. “Now that’s the way to go — hot sex, limited responsibilities. If you get bored or they start busting your balls, you end it.”
“Yeah, maybe you just need a goomah,” Don Al joined in, giving him a wink. “You don’t need a wife, but it’s nice to have a pretty girl around whenever you want some. Bobby, you still seeing that skinny blonde?”
He reached for another meatball. “No. Ready for a new girl, I guess.”
It had been a few months since he’d ended it with Stacy. In her case, he did grow bored, finding her too shallow to interest him beyond sex. But the appeal of a goomah for him wasn’t actually about getting rid of a girl when bored. It was more the power play. With a mistress, there was an unspoken — or maybe even spoken — business arrangement. The woman received financial benefit in exchange for being available. And he loved holding power over his woman.
The conversation charged his interest in finding someone new. He should start actively looking again.
* * * * *
Lexi walked from the El stop to her apartment, her feet aching from standing all day. She had $250 cash in her pocket from the day, which she hoped was enough to calm her landlord down. She’d go to see him tomorrow. Tonight, all she wanted to do was crash.
She unlocked the front door to the building and took the stairs up to the third floor where she stopped cold. Someone had taped papers on her door.
Shit!
She lurched forward to read them, as if she didn’t already know what they said. Evicted. She tried her key in the lock. Of course it didn’t work.
Tears burned her eyes. How stupid could she be, to think she could keep talking her landlord out of booting her? She leaned against the hallway wall and sank to a squat, crying.
She should have moved back to Kansas after the accident. She could have lived with her mom and sister and paid the bills down over time. Instead, she hid her head in the sand and just hoped things would work out.
Well, they hadn’t worked out.
And now she had no place to go.
She indulged in her self-pity for a few moments longer until she heard the sound of a key turning in the building door below and scrambled to her feet, wiping her face.
Get it together, Lex.
She headed back to the El station and took it to the stop closest to Plush, the club where Gina worked. She could try to talk to her landlord tomorrow. Right now she needed a drink and a friend.
When she entered the club, she scanned the workers behind the bar for Gina. Spotting her where she stood serving drinks, Lexi made a beeline over and perched on the footrest to lean her body across the bar and give her a quick peck on the cheek. “I got evicted,” she said in a low voice.
“Shit. I’m sorry. Well, you can definitely crash on my couch. Do you want the key?”
“Mm... maybe after I’ve had a drink or two.”
Gina smiled. “Of course. What are you drinking?”
“I don’t know. Surprise me.”
Gina made her a mojito and turned her attention to the barback bussing dishes. “Cover for me for a while, Dan?”
When he nodded, she took off her short apron and walked out from behind the bar. It never ceased to amaze Lexi that Gina could stand all night on her feet in three-inch heels, but as usual, she was rocking them with a short skirt. She lifted her chin in the direction of the tables. “Come with me.”
Two distinguished men sat on plush chairs drinking what appeared to be whiskey on the rocks. Gina led them straight to their table. “May we join you?”
She stiffened, understanding too late Gina’s design. The men were well dressed and looked Italian. This must be the mafia guy with whom Gina wanted to set her up.
Both men stood, showing perfect manners. “Of course,” the taller one said.
“Lexi, this is Bobby Manghini and I’m sorry, I haven’t met you yet,” Gina said, turning her attention to the other man.
“Dean,” he said, shaking Gina’s hand.
“Hi, Bobby,” Lexi said, offering her hand and trying not to be impressed by his good looks. He stood six feet tall, with broad shoulders perfectly draped in an Armani suit. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, with a strong jaw and aquiline nose. Dark eyes with lashes that curled.
“Pleasure to meet you. What are you drinking?”
“You finished that already?” Gina asked. “I’ll go get another one.”
“No, no,” Bobby said, holding up his hand. “You sit. I’ll get the drink. What will you have, Lexi?”
She licked her lips, trying to steel herself against the take-charge masculine charisma Bobby oozed. “A mojito.”
He gave her a wink. “Be right back.”
Oh dear Lord. Gina had been right about him — he was hot.
When he returned, he took the seat beside her, causing her temperature to rise by at least two degrees.
“So what are you ladies up to?”
“Well, Lexi is my hair stylist, in addition to being a good friend. And I was telling her about you last week. I thought you might like each other.”
Her belly tightened.
Way to lay it right out there, girl.
Gina wasn’t one to beat around the bush.
“So you do hair?”
She nodded, trying
not to shrink under his intense scrutiny.
“No wonder you look so good.”
She rolled her eyes, letting him know she wasn’t falling for his sweet talk.
“Lexi just gave me this cut and color,” Gina said, tossing her head. “She did it for her portfolio.”
Bobby raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely interested. “Oh yeah? What’s the portfolio for?”
She shrugged. “I’m applying for this training job. It’s posted nationally, so I probably don’t have much of a chance, but it’s worth a shot.”
He nodded. “Well, if all the styles in your portfolio look as good as Gina’s, I would say you have a good chance. Not that I’m an expert on women’s hair,” he said with a devastating grin. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the dark lashes making the brown liquid pools look warm and inviting. “So, what did Gina tell you about me?”
“I told her you’d make a good sugar daddy,” Gina said with a smirk.
She felt her cheeks grow warm. Good God, now he would think she was a money-grubbing, desperate floozy.
The statement only seemed to interest Bobby, though. He turned his attention to her. “Is that so?”
She opened her lips to deny it, but found herself caught in his heated gaze, the appreciative assessment obvious. Forcing herself to exhale, she said, “No, she was only kidding.”
Bobby reached over and grasped the seat of her chair, pulling it forward until her knees came between his.
She gasped at the sudden movement and gave a nervous giggle. “What are you —?”
He made a show of looking her up and down. “Yes, I would definitely say you are sugar baby material.”
Dean and Gina laughed, egging him on.
She looked skyward again. “I feel like a horse at auction. Look, I never said —”
Bobby grinned and took hold of her jaw. “Right! Let’s see those teeth, little pony,” he said, pulling her face toward him. Instead of looking in her mouth, he lowered his face, sweeping his lips lightly across hers. Softer than she expected, they tasted faintly of whiskey. Though she ought to be turned off by being so manhandled, the moment he pulled away, she missed his touch, wanting more.