The Bossman

by Renee Rose

  With the complete wisdom of an eight-year-old, it came together. Her father had murdered for the mafia and now he was rinsing the evidence. She picked up the bloody shirt and held it under the spigot to help him. She was not going to let him get caught, no matter what he did.

  “Sophie,” he snarled. “Inside. Now.”

  She looked up into his face. Frightened--not of him, but for him. As if he understood, he turned gentle. “Everything’s okay. I know how to take care of things. Pretend you never saw this. Nothing bad’s gonna happen.”

  She nodded and ran in the house.

  She woke remembering her introduction to mafia violence. That moment had been an initiation into the life of a mob family. But her father had been right--nothing bad had happened--that time. Not to her family, anyway. But the luck runs out eventually. When she was twelve, he spent 18 months in jail on a theft charge and a few years after that he was dead.

  This was the sort of man she was dating. Her gut clenched as she got up to shower. No. She couldn’t do this. Not again.

  When he arrived at her house on Sunday he heard Pink’s “Raise Your Glass” blasting inside. Not surprisingly, she didn’t hear him knock. He tried the door and found it open. Sophie was the kitchen, singing along to the music at the top of her lungs as she danced with abandon. She wore a jean skirt and skimpy tank top and her feet were bare. Her eyes were closed, her head falling back so her thick hair moved in waves down her back. She bounced on her feet wearing a look of pure joy on her face. He leaned in the door frame, smiling and watching the show.

  When her eyes flickered open and she caught sight of him, she gave a little shriek and skidded to a halt.

  “I didn’t hear you come in!”

  “Yeah, you need to keep your door locked when you’re here alone,” he said. “But don’t stop dancing. Please--don’t stop.”

  “Shut up,” she said, coming over to offer her cheek for a kiss.

  He would have preferred lips, but he kissed the velvety cheek. “No, I mean it. Please don’t stop. I was enjoying the show.” He pushed her into the kitchen, sidling up behind her to give her the bump and grind. She laughed, pushing her ass back toward his crotch andrubbing it, her arms in the air.

  “Didn’t think you were the dancing type.”

  “Yeah, baby,” he encouraged, laughing. Grabbing the spatula from her hand, he held it wide, aimed toward her ass, so she turned around and bent over, bumping her butt to the beat and his smacks.

  When the song ended, he turned her around and backed her up against the counter, pressing his body against hers.

  “You’re so hot. What do I have to do to see that more often? Take you dancing?”

  She grinned and shrugged. “We’re not dating, remember? But I might consider a dancing date, since they’re pretty hard to find.”

  “Mmm, but I don’t know if I could handle other guys looking at you, though.”

  “Come on, really? You’re that type?”

  He tilted his head to the side, considering. “Nah. Yeah. Maybe a little. Don’t be mad, I just don’t like to share. Where’d you go out last night, anyway?”

  A shutter snapped over her expression. “Oh, uh, we just went out for drinks and movie.”

  She was lying. His heart began to pound in his chest. She had a boyfriend? She was two-timing him?

  “Did you just lie to me?” he asked in his quiet but dangerous voice. Her mouth opened and he got the vibe more bullshit was coming, so he held up his finger. “Think before you speak, Sophie,” he warned. “You don’t want to make that mistake with me twice.”

  She went pale, her eyes wide and terrified. “I - I - I - I...”

  He softened at her look of real fear. She wasn’t used to him or his ways and probably believed he would hurt her. His long-practiced intimidation techniques were too heavy on a girl like her. He relaxed his face. “You can tell me,” he coaxed. “Just come clean and it will be all right.”

  She looked at him warily, her breath coming in little gulps.

  “What’s going on?” he prompted. “Why did you just lie to me?”

  “I had a date,” she whispered. “I made it before we--before I met you. And I just wanted to tell him in person I couldn’t see him anymore. That’s all, I swear. I haven’t slept with--I mean been with anyone since we...”

  Relief swept over him. No, more than relief--triumph. She answered as if she already considered herself his. The pounding in his chest slowed but he pressed his advantage. “Did you kiss him?’

  “No--I mean yes,” she corrected quickly, possibly remembering he didn’t appreciate lying. “But it was just a peck, I swear.”

  He kept his face serious. “No tongue?”

  She shook her head quickly, her pale green eyes pleading.

  “And you felt you had to lie--why?”

  She chewed her lip. “I-I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I mean, I don’t know-- you just said you don’t like to share. I thought you’d be mad.”

  He nodded. “I see,” he said grimly, spinning her around and bending her over the counter. He lifted her short denim skirt and grasped her panties, pulling them into her crack and twisting a wad in his fist to hold them there. He started to smack her exposed cheeks, hard.

  “Ouch! Stop it!”

  “I know we’re not in a committed relationship yet, but you still don’t go out with another man without talking to me about it. That’s disrespectful,” he said, never pausing in his rapid-fire spanks.

  She squirmed and he pulled up on her panties, lifting her to her tiptoes and applying pressure across her pussy and anus. She gasped.

  “And you never, ever lie to me.” He punctuated each word with a hard slap, leaving red fingerprints on her perfect ass. “Capisce?”

  She bared her teeth, looking over her shoulder at him. Her face was flushed and her pupils had dilated. He froze, realizing he had gone too far and probably just ruined his chances with the one woman he was truly interested in. But then recognized the wild look in her eye--arousal. Lust kicked through him like an explosion. He kept pressure on the panties, rubbing one of her reddened cheeks with his other hand, as he leaned forward to murmur in her ear, “You liked that, didn’t you?”

  “No,” she said, her voice husky.

  He released his hold on her panties to wrap his fist in her hair, using it to tug her head backward. “You’re lying,” he said in a low voice, his hand dipping into her bra to find an erect nipple. He pinched it. “Your body gives you away.”

  She sucked in her breath between her teeth, which were still clenched and bared like a little wildcat. His hand left her breast and slipped below, moving her panties to the side to slide a finger across her hot, glossy opening. Her labia were spread open like flower petals, swollen with desire. “You feel that?” he murmured. “You’re turned on. That means you lied again...after I just told you not to,” he said.

  Chapter Four

  Joey released her hair and wrapped an arm around her waist, picking her up like a rag doll, spinning her around and setting her back on her feet facing the living room. “Let’s go, naughty girl, I think you need more spanking,” he said, his hand on her ass, which was still mostly bare with her panties up her crack and her skirt around her waist. Waves of heat made her head spin, and a drip of arousal leaked from her pussy as she walked. Her mind was completely muddled--her anger over his brutish ways dimming as desire flared hotter.

  She couldn’t believe what he’d just done. But worse, she couldn’t believe her reaction. Because he was right, she was more turned on at that moment than she’d ever been in her life.

  He sat on the couch and pulled her over his lap. Every nerve in her body was alive, listening to what would happen next. The excitement between her legs came as a slow pulsing and she found herself hoping he’d tug her panties up again to help alleviate it.

  He lowered them instead. The first few smacks with his hand were slow and he rubbed away the sting in between. She moaned, pushing her
bottom up at him, dying for more. He responded by wrapping an arm around her waist and spanking her in earnest, as he’d done in the kitchen. The smacks came fast and hard.

  Little gasps and grunts escaped her lips, but she didn’t want him to stop. The pain increased--her bottom blazed and each new strike came as a new sting.

  “Do you ever lie to me, little girl?”

  “No, sir!” she practically shouted.

  He paused his spanks and chuckled. “You don’t have to call me sir,” he said, sounding amused. He spanked again, even harder, but stopped after delivering another ten. “Do you go out with other men without telling me?”

  “No, sir. I mean, no….Joey.”

  He rubbed her swollen bottom. “Good girl,” he murmured and she ground her hips on his lap wantonly. She needed release, desperately.

  She felt him move and heard the jingle of his belt buckle and thinking he was going to give her what she wanted, tried to get off his lap.

  He held her fast with an arm around her waist. “I’m going to spank you with my belt now. I want you to know what it feels like, because it’s what you’ll get if you lie to me again.” he said, causing real fear to course through her.

  “No!” she cried with alarm. “Joey, please,” she pleaded, giving up all pride.

  He rubbed her bottom again. “I’ll tell you what, Soph. If you count out loud very nicely, I’ll stop at three.” Without waiting for her answer, he brought the leather belt down across her ass with a snap.

  She howled in protest and then must have remembered his words because she shouted, “One!”

  He chuckled. “Good girl.” He snapped the belt across her raw cheeks again.

  “Two!” she gasped immediately. Almost over. Just one more. She could do it. The belt struck again. “Three! Three...three,” she moaned, tears pricking her eyes.

  Joey dropped the belt. “It’s over, baby,” he said gently, and she wondered if this was how he’d be if the punishment was real. Or had this been real? Confusion clouded her mind. “It’s over sweetheart. You were a very good girl.” His fingers wended through her hair in a caress. She felt his lips kiss her bottom and the scratch of his stubble hurt her tender flesh.

  He ran his large, warm hand over her blazing bottom, sliding it down one thigh, then back up again, seemingly without agenda.

  Well, she had an agenda. She moved to get off his lap, and he released her. Sliding to her knees, she reached for the button on his pants. His eyes turned dark with desire, passion evident in his expression. His cock thickened the moment she touched it, springing out of his boxer briefs as he slid forward on the couch to give her easy access. She flicked her tongue over the head, circling the rim before taking his full length into her mouth.

  “Ahh,” he groaned appreciatively.

  She slid up and down, massaging his balls with one hand and squeezing the base of his cock with the other. She pulled off and blew on his moistened shaft to tease him. He groaned again.

  When she took him back into her mouth, he shuddered. She turned her lips in over her teeth and made a slight humming noise as she slid up and down over his shaft. He grasped the back of her head, encouraging her movement. “God, yes!” he gasped.

  She pulled off again, flicking her tongue over the head, lapping the weeping slit. The next time she took him fully, he grasped her hair, pulling her in and out with an uncontrolled urgency. Just when she thought he would orgasm, he pulled her all the way off.

  “On your hands and knees,” he ordered, his voice thick.

  She dropped to position and he tested her readiness, giving a growl of approval when he found her dripping wet. She heard the sound of a condom wrapper and was grateful he’d remembered, because the thought of protection hadn’t even occurred to her.

  She waited, holding her throbbing ass perfectly still for his taking. He entered slowly, but soon began plowing into her, bumping so hard she began to travel forward in the direction of the end table. He grasped her hips and dragged her back, only to repeat the dance. The next time he pulled her back, he spun her around so her torso rested on the sofa. Now, properly braced, he pounded her. She lost control at the sensation of his cock hitting her inner wall, the slap of his flesh against her swollen ass, and the memory of what he’d just done to her. She jerked as an orgasm ripped through her and her knees slid out, only Joey’s strong hands at her hips held her steady until he found his release with a howl of pleasure.

  He stayed inside her until his orgasm was complete, then pulled her down to the floor, where they both lay sprawled on their backs. Her passion relieved, a sense of vulnerability crept in.

  “Joey?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you hold me?”

  In a flash he pulled her in his arms, wrapped so close to him she couldn’t distinguish where her body stopped and his began. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m still learning how to be your man.”

  Her heart fluttered. Damn Joey La Torre. She didn’t want him to be her man, but he seemed to be exactly what she’d been missing her whole life.

  “So...Joey? Was that for real?”

  He kissed her shiny hair, savoring that his hard-to-get girl was snuggled in so tightly. “What do you mean?”

  She pulled out of his arms to look at his face, nibbling on her lower lip. “I mean, were you really serious when you spanked me, or was it just for...uh...you know, fetish.”

  He chuckled. “I was serious at first, but then when I saw it turned you on, I got turned on, too.”

  “You were serious? So...does that mean you spank your girlfriends? I mean, you would spank me if, um…” she trailed off, looking both flustered and angry.

  “Soph,” he said cautiously, “I would never hit a woman anywhere but on her ass. You know that, right? Were you scared?”

  She considered him, then shook her head. “Not really. I was more pissed off than anything.”

  He touched her nose. “Pissed off and turned on,” he said with a grin.

  She jerked her head away, but smiled slightly. “So, you’ve spanked other women?”

  “Yeah,” he said simply.

  “For real punishment or for sex?”

  “Real punishment.”

  “You spanked your ex-fiancé? Alessia?”

  He nodded, uncomfortable with dragging Alessia into this conversation.

  “What for?”

  He drew a breath. “I don’t think she’d want me talking about it with my new girlfriend, know what I mean?”

  “I’m not your girlfriend,” she said, chewing on her lip. “But if I were, you would do that again?”

  “If you needed it,” he said, then modified his answer. “It’s up for discussion, Sophie. I won’t walk out if you tell me no, okay?”

  She relaxed and he nodded, to show he meant it.

  “I can tell you no?”

  He shrugged and quirked a smile. “You can try. All I can promise is that it’s open for discussion.”

  She smiled ruefully and shook her head. “Neanderthal,” she muttered, but her cheeks were flushed with excitement. She climbed to her feet, finding her panties where she’d kicked them off and stepping back into them. “Are you still up for dinner?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He opened a bottle of wine and poured it, but she shooed him to the table, serving him the way his mother used to serve his father, glowing when he praised the savory meal of chicken, fresh vegetables and wild rice she’d made. Seeing her this way--all soft and open--made him even more determined to win her over. Sophie Palazzo was a prize no man deserved, himself included.

  She served chocolate ice cream in little sundae dishes for dessert. He watched the way she sucked on her spoon, remembering the feel of those full lips teasing his cock just an hour earlier.

  “So, spanking women isn’t a fetish for you?”

  He almost laughed, but something in her expression looked so vulnerable he swallowed it in time. The last thing he wanted to do was mock her sexu
al kinks. “Well,” he said slowly, “I’m certainly turned on by the sight of a woman’s bare ass. So maybe the first few spanks excite me. But once she starts hurting, the arousal goes away and it’s just about discipline. So I guess I’m not a real sadist.”

  She looked excited, like he’d given the right answer. “I guess I’m not a masochist, either, because I didn’t like the pain.”

  “But you liked something about it?” he probed.

  Her face flushed, making her pale green eyes stand out against the pink. She scraped the bottom of her sundae dish scrupulously, then shrugged. “I don’t know. No.”

  He stood from his chair and took the sundae dish out of her hand as he pulled her to stand. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he held her close, lowering his face toward hers, so they stood nose to nose. “Did you forget,” he asked softly, “there are consequences for lying to me?”

  The pink returned to her cheeks and her lips parted, but no sound escaped. He bent his head to brush them lightly. “Tell me what you liked,” he coaxed.

  She stared up at him, frozen for a long moment. “I liked the idea of it, maybe,” she admitted at last. “Or...maybe just the dominance. But that doesn’t mean I want a dominant man,” she said quickly.

  This time he did laugh. “You don’t want to give me any footing, here. I get it. I know dominating you would be a privilege I’d have to earn.”

  She looked up with a mixture of surprise and gratitude on her face.

  He cupped her chin and kissed her lips, exploring their softness with his own. “I do intend to earn it,” he said in a low voice.

  She Googled “sexual spanking” the next day while she ought to be cleaning her apartment and spent two hours poring over spanking sites, discovering an entire world of spankers that included the more serious “domestic discipline” practitioners to the strictly erotic spanksters. By the time she finished reading, she was grinding over the seat of her chair, more turned on than she’d ever become without anyone touching her.