by Mia Ford
Richie gave him the eye. “Was the old life so bad?”
“Depends on your definition of bad,” the guy shot back.
Richie sat forward in his chair and folded his hands on his desk. His “businessman” persona.
“What the hell. I’ll give you a shot. We always need good bouncers here at the club. Day shift to start. It’s a good training ground. Not much happens during the day. Still, we like a solid presence to show we mean business and our girls are not to be touched without permission. Until after the guy pays, of course, for a little backroom action.” Richie winked. “Butch here can show you the ropes tomorrow. Be here around noon.”
I hadn’t noticed Butch slinking around in the opposite corner. He grunted now, not seeming too happy with the new hire or the added responsibility of training him. Butch liked to sleep in until early afternoon and then spend his shift staring at me and making my life as miserable as possible.
“Sounds great, Mr. Silvestri,” the man said, sticking out his hand. “I appreciate the opportunity.”
“Richie,” he said with that pleasant, almost unrecognizable smile. “Mr. Silvestri is my dead father.” He laughed, and there he was, the brother I knew, the one that made my heart sink every time I saw him.
They shook hands and exchanged a few words, and then as I heard my brother tell Butch he needed to get Archie to the hospital, the stranger turned. I caught a better look of his face, and I froze, my eyes wide, my hands clenched. I simply couldn’t move. I felt as though I’d been caught in a magnetic pull.
His face was as gorgeous as I expected. His dark hair was combed back from his forehead but fell in soft waves against the sides of his face. He had an Italian look to him, but the name O’Shea meant Irish. Black Irish. I’d read about them in the historical novels I devoured. His cheekbones stood out prominently, and dark, penetrating eyes locked on mine.
We stared at one another as he pulled the door closed and began to walk in my direction. Walking wasn’t quite the right word though. This man prowled, like a jungle cat, like a predator walking toward prey. And like a rabbit caught in a snare, I just stood there waiting for the inevitable.
His gaze went from my eyes down my face to stop where my robe gapped just a bit. I felt the heat of that gaze on the swell of my tits, rising and falling as my breath grew ragged. His stare left a trail of fire, and beads of sweat popped out along my skin. I was sure it was from the intensity of that stare, though it might have been from standing in a hot hallway in a flannel bathrobe. He continued to stare, his gaze wandering from my cleavage to my hips and lower to my bare toes, which I curled against the dirty wood floor.
Finally, I managed to shake myself out of my near-catatonic state. I put my finger to my lips and said, “Shhh…”
A smile curled up the corners of his mouth, and then he pulled an invisible zipper across his lips. He made a little gesture with his finger, flicking it between himself and me, and then he cupped his crotch and winked.
I almost giggled but managed to hold it in by pressing my lips together. I shook my head as I smiled. He put his hand over his heart and made a pouty face. As I walked backward toward the staircase, I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off him. He strolled down the dark hallway as though he owned it. I was turning to go up just as he reached me, and I gasped and jerked when his hand landed across my ass in a quick, snapping slap.
I whirled around and met dark eyes glittering with both danger and desire.
“Couldn’t resist that ass.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Until we meet again, Miss…”
“Silvestri. Hannah Silvestri.”
He shot a glance down the hall, his brows furrowed. “Fuck me. You’re married to Richie?”
“No, no, no,” I whispered furiously. “He’s my brother.”
His smile widened. “Danny O’Shea.” He took my hand off the bannister and lifted it to his lips. The kiss was sweet and gentle but molten hot, sending rivulets of lava boiling through my veins and down my spine. When he lifted his face, he gave me a wink and gestured up the stairs with a toss of his head. “We’ll save this for another day, Miss Hannah. Beat it before you get in trouble and I end up six feet under.”
He continued down the hall as if he wouldn’t care in the world.
When I came back down to earth with a heavy, almost happy sigh, I found Butch staring at me from the T-junction, a dark thundercloud encircling his huge frame. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could.
Chapter Five: Richie Silvestri
“He gone?” I asked when Butch lumbered back into the office.
“Fuck that guy,” Butch muttered. His ugly mug looked uglier than usual. Danny O’Shea hadn’t impressed him much. “He’s trouble, boss.”
“They’re all trouble, Butchie boy, but you know my motto. Surround yourself with trouble, so you have someone to blame things on when the shit goes south.”
“Not sure about that,” Butch said, glancing at the doorway. “This one might be different.”
“He’s just a guy looking for work,” Archie said.
“There’s no such thing as just a guy looking for work, you fucking pussy,” Butch said.
“Fuck you,” Archie shot back.
“Easy, boys,” I said. “Tell me again, Archie. How’d you meet this guy?”
I rounded on Archie, happy to see he cringed just a bit. It never hurt to remind him who was in charge around here.
I loved the guy like a slow brother, had since I’d pulled him out of a toilet when we were grade school. I still didn’t know why I’d done it. Something about seeing a little kid floundering in shit I guess. My dad hadn’t been the nicest guy, and I’d had my fair share of shit swirlies from that abusive bastard. Pulling Archie up by the collar and wiping the crap off his face, and the vomit off his clothes after he puked, made us brothers of a kind. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and not even the strongest, but he’d always had my back, and I’d always had his. I guess when you knew the world was already out to get you at the age of eight you needed someone in your corner. Archie was in mine. Probably the only one there by choice.
So, I was stuck with him, and most often I didn’t mind it, but sometimes he made my life a lot harder than it should be. Like tonight. The guy didn’t have a fucking brain in his skull, and I didn’t buy for a minute that he’d been hustling pool for money to give his kids. He hadn’t seen those damn kids in eight months. I knew that because I had to send him with a driver out to Arlington Heights when that bitch ex of his had remarried, to a goddamned chiropractor of all things, and moved out of the city.
Archie had been trying to score money for his habit, and that meant trouble because I supplied Archie with exactly the right amount that worked for me.
“Well, Archie?” I settled in my chair and waited.
“I already told you.”
“Tell me again.”
“Like I said, just a guy,” he stuttered. “He did me a solid. Otto could have killed me, Richie. He had me by the fucking neck.”
“No big loss,” Butch said. “You’re as worthless as tits on a bull.”
I cut a glance to Butch to shut him up. He wisely shut his trap.
Archie looked at the floor. “I’m trying to help a guy out is all.”
“Where’d you say he’s from?”
Archie swallowed. “Don’t know. He mentioned Iowa.”
“That dude ain’t from Iowa,” Butch said.
“H-he didn’t say he was born there,” Archie said. “Only that it was a shithole state and he didn’t want to park there. Ran out of money or something.”
“I don’t give a fuck if he came from Mars,” Butch said. “I don’t like his attitude. All cocky and shit.”
“You’re all cocky and shit,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, well, he ain’t me, okay? He ain’t earned the right to be cocky around here.”
“True, true, but I suspect you’ll keep him in his place.”
“We don’t need anothe
r bouncer,” Butch said. “Got bouncers up the ass around here.”
“Because we have pussy up the ass here,” I said. “Some of these drunks think they can cop a feel any time they want, and that doesn’t fly here. If they want their fingers to smell like pussy, they gotta pay. If they want a blowjob, they gotta pay. If they want to fuck someone in the ass, they gotta pay.” I spread my hands and smiled. “You can’t do it all, Butch, and I know for a goddamned fact some of these so-called bouncers, the men I pay, are skimming from me. I need you focused on that.”
“I’ll focus. Got it, boss.”
“Let this guy handle the nitty-gritty and you focus on this damn thief. I know the girls are doing their damn jobs making me dough, and almost every night, the till seems lighter than it should be. Once I know which of them is snatching money right out of my goddamned pocket, you can deal with that too. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Butch smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Good. So, train this new guy to look after the girls. He’s new blood, so it’ll take a while for him to start getting brave enough to steal from me. In the meantime, he reports to you, so watch him close.”
“No problem,” Butch said, cracking his thick knuckles. “I’ll watch him like a fucking hawk.”
A hawk. I needed Butch to be a pit bull. Not a fucking hawk.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and glanced at the clock. I hated doing business after midnight. “Get Archie to the hospital and get that hand fixed. No painkillers. I don’t need him jacked up on something else.”
“Ah, Richie, I ain’t jacked up.”
I stared at the scratches on his arm, where he’d been digging at himself with his raggedy fingernails.. “Sure you’re not.” I leaned forward. “I’m serious as a heart attack here, Arch. No painkillers. I don’t care if you have to put a stick between your teeth. You hear me?”
Archie nodded miserably.
“Now get out of here.” I reached toward my desk drawer for my bottle of scotch.
“One other thing, boss.”
Huffing out a sigh, I glanced up to find Butch shuffling his feet. There was something he didn’t want to tell me, but he would—because he was a good little soldier. “What?”
“The dude…he saw Hannah, out on the stairs.”
Jesus Christ. As though I didn’t have enough trouble. If that little bitch was sneaking around stirring up those dancers again about better pay and shit, she was going to find herself in a world of hurt. The last time I’d lost three of my best girls, along with some of my best-paying clientele. If these cunts wanted health benefits, they were in the wrong place. Let them try to find another job with no skills but big bouncy tits, cocksucking lips, and a damp pussy.
“What the fuck was she doing out there?” I asked.
“Don’t know.” He cracked his knuckles again, his mind obviously still on O’Shea. “She was wearing that ratty old robe that looks like shit.”
“Hmm…” If she hadn’t been dressed, she probably wasn’t stirring shit up, at least not tonight. “Hungry I guess. Did she have food?”
“Not that I saw.”
“So did they talk?”
“A couple words I guess,” Butch said. “She looked flustered, but I didn’t like the way they were looking at each other.”
“And how was that?”
“All cow-eyed and giggly. Made me want to puke.”
“You’re just jealous,” Archie muttered.
Butch turned on Archie so fast the smaller man stumbled and fell back against the desk. He cried out and clutched his hand tighter.
“Shut your goddamned mouth, you fucking junkie piece of shit.”
“Down, Butch,” I said with a sigh that let them know I was getting bored with their sit. “It’s no secret around here you’ve got a massive hard-on for my little sis. It’s a done deal, you’ll be family. She’ll come around…eventually. You just gotta be patient. Gotta catch that sexy fly with honey, and the way I see it, what you been dishing out ain’t honey.”
“I try,” Butch said, sulking.
I’d been watching Butch pant after Hannah for years, even since she sprouted tits at fourteen and started smelling like pussy instead of peanut butter and Kool-Aid. Did I want Butch as a brother-in-law? No fucking way. But I needed someone in the family to keep Hannah under control. There was only so much a brother could do. She needed a firmer hand, and though I never minded a bit of violence, I’d promised my dead mother I’d never hurt her little girl. A promise was a promise.
Archie whimpered. “Damn, Richie, can I get this hand looked at? I can’t feel my fingers anymore.”
“Then why are you whining so much, you cunt?” Butch snarled.
“Shut up,” Archie whispered.
“Boys, boys, I’m starting to feel like a referee here, and that isn’t a good look for me. Hate stripes.” I adjusted my plain red tie.
“Let me follow him now and put him out of our misery.” There he was. Finally. Butch, the pit bull with a bone.
I waved my hand, holding on to my patience by a thread. “Not tonight. I wanna see where this leads.”
“It’s leading to disaster,” Butch said. “I can smell it.”
“What you smell is the stench of your own envy, Butchie boy.”
Butch narrowed his eyes, seething. I really shouldn’t goad him, but these two were wearing on my temper. Trying to look like I didn’t give a fuck about this new guy had given me a migraine. It pulsed just beneath the skin on my temple and threatened to erupt full force. What I wanted was my bottle of scotch and some hot, wet pussy. Maybe Jacklyn. I could bury my face in her plump cunt and inhale. The scent of pussy always calmed my nerves.
“I don’t like him,” Butch said.
“I got that,” I said. “Noted. In bright red crayon. Now get the fuck out of here before I decide I need different lackeys.”
They skedaddled after that. They knew when they’d pushed the final button and I was ready to blow.
I yanked the bottle out of my drawer and drank right from the bottle.
Goddamn, my head hurt. Hannah better not become a problem. I’d loved my mother for the short time I had her and wanted to keep my word, but that girl could only push me so far. I had a business and reputation at stake, and no one—not even a little sis—was going to bring me down.
Note: “Going Deep” is available only @99c or FREE on Kindle Unlimited. To get your copy, simply click on the link below…
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075M4QFL5
Sneak Peak: Falling for Her
Blurb
Neil Driscoll has no intention of looking back. He’s got a trajectory in mind and he’s sticking to it, whether it ruins other people’s lives or not. He’s worked hard to get where he is and has no intention of stopping, not for anyone. Not for anyone or anything, that is, aside from a tragedy that drives him to the home he has come to hate. He vows to stay for as short amount of time as possible, however, and has no intention of breaking that vow, even when a chance encounter throws his entire world off balance.
Fay Turner has never left home and has no intention of doing so. Why would she, when home has everything in the world she could ever want? Her life is predictable and she likes it that way, right up until a surprise encounter turns everything upside down in a matter of moments. When two old lovers come together again, will it rekindle something long believed lost or will the time between them prove too large an obstacle to overcome?
Chapter 1: Fay
“Oh my God!” I said. “Don’t do that kind of thing to me, Courtney! You know I hate it when you do.”
“That’s right.” Courtney grinned at me from the space where she’d suddenly inserted her face in between me and my book. “I do. Which is probably why I do it. You realize that, don’t you?”
I rolled my eyes at her and pushed her head out of the way, gently enough so as not to hurt her but hard enough so that she knew I meant business. Or at least, hopefully she knew I mea
nt business. Courtney Paige and I had been best friends for literally as long as I could remember. Such a long-lasting friendship was mostly a good thing, but it also had the unfortunate effect of giving her the ability to see right through me. She knew when I was actually angry and when I was just kind of annoyed, like right now.
Courtney knew I was just mildly annoyed, not actually pissed off at her. She allowed herself to be physically moved, but she showed no signs of actually leaving me in peace so that I could continue reading my book without interruption.
That was really too bad because I had a feeling the story was starting to get to a really good part, where the hero would finally tell the girl he’d been pining after how totally in love he was with her, and had been for years and years. I was a sucker for that kind of thing.
I probably would have gone right on reading for the rest of the day if I hadn’t been so rudely interrupted. Courtney, on the other hand, was a different story altogether. She had never been much of a fan of reading, and she seemed to have a particular hatred for the romance books I completely loved.
Courtney frowned at me, pretending to be stern. “Um, little lady, you do know that we’re at work, right? I mean, technically, that is?”
“Right,” I said. “What’s your point?”
“Well, I guess my point is that this is a diner, not a library. Do you really think you should just be sitting there at the counter, reading a book like you don’t give a shit who sees you?”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, laughing. I grabbed a napkin to use as a bookmark before shutting my book. “You’re actually drinking a beer right now. We’re at work, as you so lovingly reminded me, and you’re drinking a beer. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Totally different.” Courtney grinned before taking another long swig off of her longneck bottle. “Not even in the same ballpark.”
“Oh yeah? And how do you figure? I mean, how do you justify that drinking a beer on the job is more professional than reading a book while we wait around for even one customer to come in? I would really love to know.”