by B. B. Hamel
My father paced along behind his desk, his hands behind his back. He turned as I approached, Mona just behind me, her hands clasped in front of her like a choir girl. My father’s eyes flashed to me then back to her, and his expression hardened.
“I didn’t expect you to bring her,” he said.
“She’s a part of this now,” I said. “Witnessed the whole thing.”
My father frowned then looked at me. “Are you okay?”
I waved a hand. “You know me. Bulletproof.”
“I know you think that, son. But nobody’s bulletproof.”
I took a seat in a chair in front of his deck. Mona lingered, moving from foot to foot, and my father stared at her.
“What about you?” he asked. “After what you witnessed, I’d guess you’re having some difficulties.”
“I’m handling it,” she said.
He cracked a smile. “I’m sure you are.”
“Do you know who came after us?” she asked.
He gestured at the chair next to mine. “Take a seat,” he said.
She hesitated then did as instructed. She sat up straight, her back rigid, her head held high. I raised an eyebrow at her, a little smile on my lips. She sat there like a queen addressing her subjects, and I had to admit she had an aura about her. Before, she’d been a scared, timid little mouse.
But there was a woman that could command a room.
My father seemed to notice it too. He frowned at her, tilted his head to one side like he was trying to decide what to make of her, then shook his head and let out a breath. He pulled back his own chair, sat down across from us, and leaned forward on his elbows.
“Do you have any idea how many phone calls I’ve gotten?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Twelve?”
“The fucking mayor,” he said, ignoring me. “The fucking chief of police. Even a couple of state goddamn senators. Do you have any clue how pissed they were?”
I spread my hands. “What was I supposed to do?” I asked. “I didn’t make the Jalisco come at me.”
“And yet they did,” my father said. “And you decided to kill them all.”
“Steven helped,” I said.
He glared at me. “Don’t bring Steven into this.”
“What do you want me to say?” I asked. “You should be angry with them, not with me.”
He clenched his jaw then smashed his hands flat down onto the desk. Mona jumped a little bit, and I could tell she was still on edge, despite the new confidence.
“I am angry with them,” he said. “Those little fuckers think they can break my plans just because it inconveniences them.”
“Seems like they’re right,” I said. “If you lose the Jalisco, the flow of heroin dries up. Not something we can really afford right now.”
My father shook his head. “I can’t let them push me around. If they start getting away with shit like that, every two-bit gang in this city’s going to go after my guys with impunity.”
“I doubt that,” I said. “But I hear what you’re saying.”
“We need to hurt them back,” my father said.
“And yet you can’t,” I said. “You need them. They’re good business.”
“Which is what pisses me off.” He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “Things were going so well. We had a very good, very profitable arrangement.”
“But they saw the writing on the wall,” I said. “They know that if we join up with the Russians, our bargaining power will double. We can push them out of the city if we want to.”
“I don’t understand why we would,” he said. “We have every reason to keep our partnership strong.”
“And yet here we are.” I leaned forward. “Father, we can’t let this stand. You know that, right?”
He glared at me, his jaw working hard. “Of course not,” he said. “I’m already mobilizing my Capos.”
“War won’t be pretty,” I said. “The Jalisco won’t be happy about this.”
“There will be bodies,” my father said. “No getting around that.”
I nodded and we sat in silence for a few tense seconds. Mona shifted in her chair, moving side to side, before clearing her throat.
“What if you didn’t go to war?” she asked. “Ah, I mean, not violent war. But economic war instead?”
My father frowned at her like he’d forgotten she was there.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You can find another supplier,” she said. “Vince, don’t you use a different supplier up in New York?”
I nodded. “We go through a different cartel, that’s true.”
“Why not bring them down here?” she asked. “I’m sure that cartel would love to expand into new territory.”
I ran a hand along my cheek, feeling the stubble on my chin.
“Might work,” I said.
“They wouldn’t dare,” my father said. “If they came down here and started selling on Jalisco turf, it would spark an even bigger conflict.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But that conflict would take place down south in Mexico, and it would take place between them.”
My father grunted and looked at Mona. “Where’d you come up with this?” he asked.
“I just remembered that Vince built an entirely different network in New York,” she said. “And I figured he could use that network here.”
“I can make some calls,” I said. “But I don’t know if they’ll go for it.”
“If we do this, we may never be able to go back,” my father said. “We cross the Rubicon and things will never be the same.”
“Things change,” Mona said. “The Jalisco tried to kill us. I say, fuck them.”
My father blinked at her and I laughed. I couldn’t help myself.
“Strong words,” my father said.
“Damn right,” I said. “Fuck the Jalisco. What do you say? I can make the call.”
My father stared at Mona for nearly five seconds before slowly nodding his head.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s try it this way. See if we can’t avoid the worst of the bloodshed entirely.”
“Good.” I stood up. “And father, I was against allying with the Russians before. Now, I think we have to do it.”
“I think you’re right,” he said. “Those stupid bastards pushed us into it when we weren’t completely certain yet.”
“Just how things go,” I said.
Mona smiled at my father and inclined her head before standing and following me to the door. I let her out first and shut the door behind me.
I caught a glimpse of my father leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head, his eyes tilted up toward the ceiling.
“Where’d you get the balls to speak up like that?” I asked Mona as we walked down the quiet hallway back toward the front entrance.
“I don’t know,” she said. “The idea hit me and I just… spoke up. I didn’t really think about it.” She moved closer, her shoulder brushing up against mine.
“Good,” I said. “Keep speaking up. I liked it.”
She smiled a little. “Really?”
“Really. It probably pissed my father off, but I’m not too worried about it.” I looked down at her and put an arm around her shoulder. I pulled her up against me and smirked as she bit her lip. “I thought it was fucking hot.”
“Oh, shut up,” she said, pushing me away.
I laughed and she smiled a little, her cheeks bright red. I drifted closer to her again, but this time I reached down and took her hand.
“I’m serious about this,” I said, stopping and staring into her dark, gorgeous eyes. “Speak your mind and don’t hold back. If you’re going to be a part of this, be a part of it.”
“I’ll try,” she said. “It’s kind of hard to picture helping a bunch of mobsters.”
I laughed. “You just did. So welcome to the family.”
She chewed on her lip and groaned. “Shit, I guess I didn’t think about it that way.”
“I know you’re supposed to be neutral, since you’re a reporter and all. But I’m glad you’re on our side.” I tugged her hand and began to walk again. She hurried to keep up, and I held her hand tight, pulling her close against me.
“I think I lost my neutrality a while back,” she said.
“I think you’re right.” I pulled her against me, turning her, pushing her back up against a wall. She let out a little breath as I kissed her neck, held her body against mine. “I think you lost it the second you let my tongue touch your skin.”
“Vince,” she whispered.
“Don’t say anything.” I let my lips brush against her cheek. “I don’t feel like discussing this anymore. You know what I want.”
She let out a little whimper as I kissed her.
Goddamn, that kiss was heaven. I’d been needing it, dreaming about it, yearning for it for so long. I let my tongue bask in her taste, in the golden delicious glow of her body. I grabbed her hips and pulled her tight against me, and she let out this little gasp, this little moan that made my cock stiffen against my jeans.
“Come here,” I said, tugging her away from the wall. We walked down the hallway and I stopped outside of a door, pulling it open.
“Wait,” she said. “We shouldn’t be in here.”
“This is my house,” I said, and pulled her into the room after me.
18
Mona
Vince closed the door behind us, turned something on the handle that clicked, and reached up to hit a light. The dark room filled with a gentle, soft glow from several lamps placed around the space, and I stood with my mouth hanging open for a few moments.
A pool table sat in the center of the space, the felt a bright blue, the wooden frame richly carved with ivory and gold inlays. Several large, heavy brown recliners were lined up on the left side of the room, and a huge bookshelf stuffed with leather-bound books covered one entire wall. A complete bar was on the opposite wall, with actual stools and a huge assortment of bottles and taps. There were cigars lined up along the top of the bar, and the room smelled like old tobacco and worn-in belts.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Game room,” I said. “My father likes to bring his rich scumbag friends in here, impress them with his cigars and liquor, then kick their ass at pool and take their money.”
“He hustles people in pool?”
He laughed and shrugged. “I guess so. Never thought about it that way.”
“He pretends like he’s so frail,” I said.
“That’s true,” he said, and pulled me against him. “But it’s all an act, my darling. You’ll see that most of this bullshit is just for show.”
“What about you?” I asked, reaching up to touch his cheek. “How much of you are just for show?”
Another brief glimpse of that pain, deep behind his eyes.
“What you see is what you get with me,” he said. “Nothing special there.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “You’re right. Nothing special.”
He pressed his lips against mine again and I let out a little purr. I couldn’t help myself, all the stress and fear I’d been feeling the last day crumbled and poured from my chest as he pushed me deep into the room. I stumble back as he kissed me, let him slide my blouse up over my head and toss it on the ground, let his lips kiss my neck.
There was a strange frenzy mixed with an odd tenderness to the way he touched me, like he wanted me so badly he couldn’t slow down, but he was afraid to hurt me. I got that sense whenever he was around me, like he wanted to show me what he could do, but he was afraid it would go too far.
I wanted him to go further.
I was in this. I was embracing it.
This was my future and I knew it. I didn’t want to turn my back on what I was becoming, and if that meant fucking Vince in his father’s game room, if that meant tasting him and letting him taste me, I wouldn’t stop.
I couldn’t, didn’t want to.
I needed him more than I realized.
I moaned as he palmed my breasts, took off my bra, licked my hard, pink nipples. I felt the pool table behind me, and he lifted me up, sitting me down on top. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him as he teased my chest.
His hands felt incredible as he moved them down between my legs. He kissed my neck, my shoulders, my nipples.
“This is why you stay,” he whispered. “This, right here. This pleasure, this taste. You pretend like you’re here for the story, but I think you want to live the story, Mona. I think you want to be a part of the story.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I moaned as he unbuttoned my jeans and tugged them off. I watched him peel them down my body and toss them onto the floor before I hopped off the pool table and grabbed at his shirt.
I took it off, kissed his chest, fumbled at his belt.
“You want to be the story,” he said. “You can’t help yourself. I see it in you, little Mona, delicious, hungry Mona.”
I took his belt off, dropped to my knees, and pulled down his jeans. He wrapped his fingers through my hair as I pulled off his boxer briefs, taking his thick, hard cock in my hand, slowly stroking up him up and down, my eyes wide at his long, thick shaft.
He pressed my mouth down over his tip then slid himself into my throat. I sucked him fast, moaning as I did it, lost in the moment. I knew I crossed a line, I knew I was going so much further than I ever imagined I would, but none of that mattered anymore.
There was only him, only Vince, only his body, his taste, his moans.
I sucked him faster, bobbing up and down, breasts shaking, hand gliding along his shaft. I felt gorgeous, I felt filthy, and I loved it. I wanted more, wanted every inch, and his moans, his groans, his hand hard in my hair kept me going, my body ringing with need, my wet spot dripping between my legs.
I slipped a hand down and began to roll my fingers along my clit.
He let out a growl of pleasure as I licked him, sucked his tip, and teased myself. I moaned as I took him into my mouth and he pushed me down deeper. I gagged, pulled back, looked up into his eyes as I stroked him.
I felt like a different person. As he leaned down and kissed me, I felt like he gave me permission to change.
He pulled me to my feet. I held his cock in both hands, stroking up him up and down. He kissed me, tongue in my mouth, taste on my lips, and I felt my breasts shake with every heavy breath, every hard stroke. He pushed me back to the pool table, licked a nipple, palmed my ass, then lifted me up onto the table.
I leaned back on my hands as he spread my legs wide and pressed the tip of his shaft against my soaking pussy.
He leaned forward and grabbed my hair hard again. It hurt and I let out a little moan, rolling my shoulders as he kissed my neck, my chest. He palmed a breast with his other hand and stared into my eyes.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he said.
“I want it,” I whispered.
“Say the words,” he said. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
“I want you to fuck me,” I said.
He clenched his jaw and I felt his tip spread me open. I was soaking wet, dripping down along his shaft, down onto the immaculate, expensive pool table. He slid himself inside of me and I threw my head back, or at least I tried. He held me with his fist, his fingers keeping my head forward, my eyes locked on his.
“That’s right,” he said. “Your tight little pussy’s all mine now, you know that?” He filled me to the brim, brought himself deep between my legs. I moaned in bliss, breasts shaking, legs trembling as I wrapped them around his hips.
He began to grind himself against me, kissed my lips, bit my shoulder, fucked me slow. I took him deep and rough, grabbing his back, digging my fingers into his muscles. Each sharp thrust sent a spray of emotion through my body. I gasped, again and again, whispered his name like a secret I could only tell myself, moaned and began to writhe my hips.
He took me like that on his father’s expensiv
e pool table. But none of it mattered, not the setting, nothing in the world.
I knew that, just outside, there were men who wanted us dead. There were men who would be glad to put a bullet through Vince’s eyes, and be glad to kill me right next to him.
But here in this room, with my Vince, his cock between my legs, his body against mine, none of it mattered.
Sweat began to trickle down my spine as I moved my hips faster.
He took me, thrust into me, rough and deep and long. I gasped and whispered in his ear.
“I want all of you,” I groaned. “I want everything. Do you know what I mean?”
“I know what you mean,” he said. “But I don’t think you can handle me.”
“Please,” I begged. “I want it, Vince. I’m tired of pretending like I don’t.”
He cupped my chin with one hand and stared into my eyes.
“Don’t ask for something you’ll regret,” he said.
“I won’t,” I moaned.
He fucked me faster then, biting my lower lip. I writhed back against him, rolling my hips, pushing my clit against him. His growls and groans rang in my ears, sent shivers of pleasure and joy down my spine, made me moan in pure ecstasy.
I could feel it building between my legs. He kept going, faster, faster, his cock taking my slick pussy, and we moved together in that perfect rhythm, not too fast but not too slow, his long, deep thrusts making moans slip from my lips, my eyes began to roll back, my muscles began to tighten, and I knew I was close. I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t hold it back.
There was no stopping him, not when he had me.
He growled, animalistic, guttural, as he thrust at just the right pace, grinding hard against me. I dug my fingers deep into the muscles of his back and bit down on my own tongue. My eyes rolled back, my head drooped, and I felt the orgasm flit up along my spine and rock through my brain.
I moaned his name as I came. I moaned it over and over, like I couldn’t stop, like the word was the only thing that kept me coming. He thrust into me all through it, and I felt my body flush, turn into nothing but pleasure and heat. His muscles bulged as he supported my weight and made me orgasm all along his thick, beautiful cock.