Dirty Debt: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by Teagan Kade

  She nods. “She doesn’t even want to talk to me.”

  I take her head and pull her into my shoulder, my shirt growing damp from her tears. “She’ll come around. She doesn’t understand. That’s all.”

  Dawn nods, but I can tell she’s not convinced.

  “Did you have any luck?” she asks, hopeful.

  “No,” I reply. “Sorry. What about your mother?”

  Dawn shakes her head against me. “I can’t, Max. I can’t and I won’t.”

  I’m not going to argue. “I’ve got five in savings, but that still leaves us ten short. I’m not trying to make this any worse, but that’s what we’re dealing with.”

  “What am I going to do?” she sobs.

  “We,” I correct. “You’re not alone. We’re in this together now.”

  We stay there for a while embracing, nothing more said. While we do, I begin to formulate a plan if this goes to hell. “Should things go… off-script, when we go to Saul,” I tell her, keeping my voice level. “You need to make a run for it.”

  “I can’t.”

  It kills me to see her torn up like this. “You have to.”

  “But you just said we’re in this together.”

  “We are, but I want you to be prepared for the worst.”

  “‘Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.’ Mom says that all the time.”

  “Well, now’s the time to listen to her.”

  “I’m not going to leave you there, leave you there to be…” she trails off.

  I take her hands. “When I say ‘run,’ you run, Dawn. That’s all there is to it. Don’t worry about me.”

  “And what are you going to do?”

  “I’ll take out Saul, take him out before he can take us out.”

  “But his men…”

  “I didn’t say it was a perfect plan. That’s why it’s a last resort, but…”

  “We have to be prepared.”

  “Yes.”

  “Promise me.”

  “Max…”

  “Promise,” I say, my voice harsher.

  “I promise.”

  I stand, pulling her up with me. “Enough of this sad, depressing shit. I need to take your mind off things.”

  She wipes the tears away. “And how do you propose you do that?”

  He pulls me along towards the shop. “Come and see.”

  Chapter 22

  Dawn

  The tattoo parlor itself is smaller than it looks from outside. There are two or three chairs, designs littering the walls, needles, and bottles of ink. The front windows are black, only the florescent lighting above providing illumination. It’s like a casino in a way, all notion of time expelled in this space.

  “Have you ever been in a tattoo parlor before?” asks Max.

  “Definitely not.”

  “Take a seat.”

  I sit on a nearby chair and carefully cross my legs together. The skirt I’m wearing is so damn short you can practically see my ass from behind. It’s not me at all.

  Max is in his element. That said, underneath his dark tee there’s a toned and tanned body that would be far more at home in a CK catalogue than a tattoo parlor.

  “Is this something you learnt to do when you were, you know, inside?” I ask, not entirely sure of his response.

  He sits on a stool beside me. “Yeah.”

  “Can I ask what you were in for?”

  I see a moment of hesitation, but he speaks. “Like I told you, I grew up in Vegas. I was doing okay, enough to go fifty-fifty in a gym with Pops. We bought the place, were about to start renovating it when a buddy started talking about how much money he was making on the underground circuit in Jersey. So, against Pops’s advice, I left. I really got sucked into the scene down here. I was making good money, but then someone told me to throw a fight.”

  I can see where this is going. “And you didn’t.”

  “No. They came for me after that. I took one of them out in self-defense, shot him in the throat, but I still had to serve out a manslaughter charge. Prison changes a man. It will suck all the life and hope right out of you, which is why I started working for Saul. He came to me, took me in."

  “What happened to the gym, the one you bought with your dad in Vegas?” I ask.

  “Never opened. The bank sold it when Pops died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I smile. “For what? You had nothing to do with any of this. I made these choices and I’ve lived with them.” He picks up a gun. It buzzes with life. “You ready to live with this?”

  “You want to tattoo me?”

  “I do.”

  I start to back up in the chair. “Oh, I don’t know about this.”

  “Something small, a memento. Please.”

  “Alright.” I can’t believe I’m saying it.

  “You sure?”

  He seems as surprised as I am I’ve agreed to this, but I figure we might both be dead tomorrow, so what the hell?

  “Something small, right?”

  “You won’t even notice.”

  The gun buzzes. I flinch.

  “Are you really sure? This is permanent,” he asks. “You seem kind of nervous.” Even his voice is attractive, low and deep and already driving me crazy with lust. I can imagine him touching my body already, the pain…

  My gosh, are you actually looking forward to this?

  Suddenly, I want those large hands on me, touching my body in all its intimate places. I want to submit to him.

  “Don’t worry,” he says, rolling around on the stool and leaning forward to look right into my eyes. “I’ll go easy on you.” He winks and I want to beg him to take me right now, but I hold my tongue and composure.

  “Where do you want it?” he asks.

  “Not on my forehead if that’s what you’re asking.”

  He laughs. “Somewhere private, perhaps?”

  “Very private.” Only after I’ve said it do I realize how flirtatious that sounds.

  He smiles. “How about your ass? Only I will see it there.”

  “Sure,” I squeak, still thinking about backing out.

  The smile deepens as he takes hold of the gun. “Trust me.”

  “You’re not going to ask me what I want?” I protest.

  “It’ll be a surprise.”

  “If you tattoo a butterfly on my ass I’m not going to be happy.”

  “Say it again?”

  “What?”

  “‘Ass.’”

  “Ass,” I state.

  He smiles wider. “I’m enjoying this transformation. What about a dragon holding his dick? A nice face tat of Trump?”

  I don’t even reply to that he sounds so serious.

  “I’m kidding,” he says. “Come on.”

  Dawn, what the hell are you getting yourself into here?

  My palms are sweaty as I roll them together in my lap.

  I take in his deep, gold eyes and his manly form, his broad chest and dark hair. And he’s all yours.

  He stands and moves to the front of the shop, switching off most of the lights bar the one over the padded table in the corner. He points to it. “You’ll need to move over there.”

  I stand and move to the table, hitching myself up until my butt is on the edge and my heels dangle in mid-air.

  Max places his hands on my knees. They smolder there.

  My heart is like a tiny hammer in my chest as we get closer to the moment when he will be completely focused on my body.

  He stands up and begins to gather things together. “We’ll start with an outline first. It’s been a while, so—”

  “What do you mean it’s been a while?”

  “Kidding. Just kidding. Now, show me that cute ass of yours.”

  I take a deep breath and slide down onto my feet, facing away from him. I hook my fingers into the waistband of my skirt and panties, drawing them down together until most of my ass cheek is showing.

  I turn and see his approving eyes. “I’m afraid yo
u’ll have to take them off entirely.”

  I kick my heels off and push my skirt and panties down to the floor, bending over the padded table teasingly but keeping my legs tight together to give him just a hint of my bare pussy. I kick my puddled skirt away and hook my balled panties off my ankle, folding them and placing them next to the skirt in a loose pile. Standing there folded in half over the edge of the table, hands on the padded leather, I’m at his complete and utter mercy.

  Oh, man.

  He’s looking at my ass like it’s already a masterpiece, but his voice remains even and calm. “Let me find the right spot for our long-schlonged friend on your cheek.”

  “Real funny.”

  I turn. There’s a towel over his lap but I notice a slight bulge in his pants below. He reaches out and lightly touches my hips, pulling himself closer.

  I’m so turned on I could combust… and I have no idea why. This man’s about to mark my body, mark it for all eternity, mark it as his own.

  Maybe that’s why.

  He carefully comes forward. His fingers run lightly over my ass perilously close to the lips of my pussy. I watch his eyes take me in, his passion-glazed corneas wandering into that dark triangle cut into shadow by the lamp overhead.

  All I would have to do is move back and just to the side to feel his fingers upon me. He’s so close already, but as much as I will myself to do it, I can’t, frozen.

  My nipples harden against the T-shirt I’m wearing. Blood pumps through my veins in a burning trail between my sex and my aching breasts.

  His fingers remain. I push my ass out just a little more and he swallows, his desire rising between his legs.

  There’s a throbbing in my ears as he tells me to lie down on my stomach on the table.

  I do as he says, removing the jacket, my pert alabaster ass right under his eyes ready to be marked forever by his hand. I hope he’s distracted. I hope that all he’s really thinking about is spreading my cheeks apart and plunging inside my wetness.

  “Are you ready?”

  I nod, sweaty with anticipation.

  He turns around and pulls a table of equipment to his side. Finally, gun in hand, he pushes the back of my t-shirt up past my hips to rest above the twin depressions in the small of my back.

  I lie there with my ass exposed to him, my legs stretched out and feet hanging off the end. I’ve been told I have cute feet before, not that a man would show them attention over the greater delights lurking above.

  One hand on my back just above the swell of my butt, the other with gun poised above, he asks, “Would you like something for the pain?”

  “No,” I tell him, completely not myself. “I want to feel it. I want to feel everything.”

  “That’s my girl. It’s going to feel a little funny at first, but you’ll get used to it—a bit like my cock really.”

  The gun buzzes to life as the needle oscillates against my soft white ass. I flinch just a little, gritting my teeth together and trying to focus my energy instead on the pool of need between my legs. He’s so close to that hot juncture, bent over my body.

  Can he smell it? I wonder. Can he smell the hot scent of desire coming from the very core of my body?

  It is painful, more than I imagined. I’ve never been a fan of needles, screaming like a banshee at the doctor’s as a child, but I take it here knowing the bliss that will follow, keen to suffer for the hope of pleasure to be mixed in later.

  Max works quickly. I can feel my skin pucker and redden from the poking of the gun.

  It’s happening. He’s marking me for life, my bare ass before him.

  His breath comes hot against my skin, following the path the gun has just left behind.

  He’s all concentration. The light touches of his hands are unbearable as he shifts my skin this way and that, moving the mass of flesh that makes up my buttock. The gun burns and stings while I continue to get hotter and hotter.

  My eyes close and I picture how it would feel for him to slip his fingers between my legs and into the slick crease there. My fantasies run over as his moist breath moves slowly over my body.

  A moan slips out of my mouth. The needle presses fractionally harder.

  He heard me. Oh, god.

  He rests his hand on the small of my back. “You alright there?”

  “Fine.”

  He laughs. “Anyone would think you’re enjoying it.”

  I know there’s more to that tone of voice. He’s enjoying this as much as I am.

  “Perhaps I am,” I reply. “It’s a little… erotic.”

  I lift my head from the table. Our eyes meet, my mouth dry from soft panting, but I can’t read his face. My nipples are stiff pebbles compressed beneath me.

  He smiles and leans in to continue.

  The longer it goes on, the hornier I get. Soon I’m seriously wet between my legs. I know he’ll be able to see it there glistening in my slit. I need release and I need it soon, otherwise I’m going to explode.

  This whole pleasure-pain threshold is new, but this is excruciating, so intense and unknown I’m close to coming on the spot.

  I’m moaning louder as he runs the vibrating gun over my tight ass. My sex is wet and hot, positively a pool of desire between my thighs.

  He sits back and sprays my tender cheek with alcohol water. A hot chill shoots up my spine at the sensation before his large hand is wiping it off with a towel. He takes so much care, so gentle in his approach compared to the sharp sting of the gun he wields.

  I close my eyes again when he brings out a small jar, his bare fingers rubbing the soothing salve into the design to cover and protect it.

  He claps his hands together. “And that’s it.”

  It can’t be. I need to get off somehow.

  Everything seems lost until he whispers right by my ear, “Do you know how wet you are right now?”

  I sit up sideways on the table, careful not to less my ass rest on it. He’s right before me, everything I need to know in his eyes.

  Our mouths come together, tongues cleaving and pressing against one another. He runs his hands under my shirt, cupping my breasts as I moan around his pliant lips.

  I lose complete control in the kiss, wrapping one hand around his neck, pulling him towards me, wanting to meld us together as much as I can.

  He lifts my shirt. A breast is released. His hand slips over it as I lean forward to fill his palm. He feels its weight, my nipple like a diamond tip against his hand while he runs a trail of hot kisses down the side of my neck.

  I gasp as the tender globe swells in his hand. I beg him, plead for release.

  In response, he rolls a nipple between his forefinger and thumb, leaning down to take it between his lips.

  He sucks it harder into his mouth, pulling my entire breast out and then letting it drop back.

  His free hand slides over my butt to caress the domed shape of it. My skin is hot under his hand from the tattoo, red and angry. He runs his fingers down the crack of my ass, softly parting them to gently slide a single digit into the slick canyon of my pussy. More fingers join the march until his whole hand is cupped around my sex, clit beating and swollen under his wet fingers as he splits my silken folds.

  His fingers move upwards, his thumb turning to flatten against my anus.

  I lift myself upwards against his strong fingers, moaning aloud now as he strokes back and forth through my swollen flesh, teasing the nub of my clit. Between him fiddling with my nipple and my clit, the pleasure is so immense, so great that I'm bucking helplessly on the table.

  He pinches, tugs, pulls, and rubs until I’m near delirium. I lift my shirt further to expose my other breast, working a nipple myself while I lick my lips. My back arches out and my hips thrust forward against his hand, hungry.

  He kisses me with fresh passion, rolling me onto my back so the tattoo burns against the leather below. He leans over my prone form while I hold his arms, fire burning throughout as he slides his tongue into my mouth.

&nb
sp; A thick finger slips inside my pussy. My flesh thickens and heats around it, clit continuing to pulse.

  “Come for me,” he whispers, finger-fucking me in a fervor, pushing into my tightness and groaning whenever the silky walls of my pussy squeeze around his finger.

  I’m burning up down there, close to release.

  All I can say is ‘yes’ over and over until I moan out long and let myself sink into my orgasm. Warm arousal floods over his hand as I come, my face bent and twisted with ecstasy.

  I open my eyes to see his nostrils flaring, taking in my heady essence.

  I’m shaking, quivering on the table. He devours me with his eyes, eyes that have seen too much pain.

  He’s so fucking hot, so sexy. I’m wet just looking at his golden skin and bulging muscles.

  He undoes the button of his jeans and pulls them down around his thighs. He wears no underwear today, his engorged cock jumping up from a nest of dark curls like an iron bar. It’s perfect in every way, and I’m desperate, absolutely frantic to have it fill me.

  He flips me over until I’m kneeling at the edge of the table, my butt in the air. It’s at the perfect height as he pulls on my hips and slides his hard cock back and forth between my ass cheeks and the wet lips of my pussy below. He lubes his member with my juices, preparing to enter me.

  I gasp and lower my head, breasts hanging from my chest.

  He directs his cock into my soaking folds, pressing it right against my opening as my pussy gushes around it.

  Holding his cock by the root, he flicks my hole with the head of his member, using his free hand to reach down and spread my lips wide. Slowly, he sinks just the tip inside.

  I let out a long moan, pushing myself backwards against his cock.

  Finally, filled with his length, I’ve never been more alive.

  When he pulls back and strokes forward again, the air is driven from my lungs. He fills me so completely. My pussy walls clamp snugly around his cock, a wet squelching audible every time he pulls back to drive deeper and deeper with every thrust.

  The initial ache subsides as he starts stroking into me harder with powerful thrusts. His fingers grip my ass cheeks tight for leverage, the pale globes jiggling every time our bodies connect.