Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

  “Holy shit!” Her lip trembles and tears fill her eyes. “The reality of what we are doing just smacked me across the face.”

  “You are my mistress, and you will be pampered, but there are a few rules.”

  “Of course,” she says, pulling her hair up as I fasten the collar around her neck. “Tell me.”

  “I’m building you a bag with fake ID, passport, birth certificate, cash, gun…pretty much anything you would need should we have to move you fast.”

  “Okay, where do I keep it?”

  “I paid Gina a nice amount to let us do some construction in your room. Tomorrow, a hole will be cut in the floor beneath the bed. The bag will be inside. Your room is also getting wired with cameras because I need to keep an eye on you.”

  “… Kinky bastard.”

  I nod and with a straight face say, “Pretty much. So, if you’re fucking someone, just know I’m stroking one off somewhere.”

  She laughs. “Anything else?”

  “Endless loyalty,” I mumbled, rubbing her neck and admiring how beautiful it looks on her. “Don’t fuck me over.”

  “I can’t.” She leans closer as we exchange breaths before falling into a passionate kiss. Between our lips and tongues, she mutters, “And who gave me this?”

  “You bought it as a Christmas present to yourself. You aren’t scavenging. I know what Cruz is paying you among other things.”

  “Yeah, don’t bring him up,” she requests as I know little of the facts surrounding the break-up of her and Dale Archer. “I don’t want to see him, Sal.”

  “I’m not bringing him up, and you do not have to see him.”

  She hesitates, but after a pause, softly asks, “Does he even know I’m here?”

  “Nope, but he asked me to keep an eye on you.”

  “Does that include putting a collar on me and keeping your dick in me?”

  I snarl. No—he’d kill me and yes—he asked me to keep you trained. “What do you think?”

  “I think I’m loyal to you.”

  “There is one more thing,” I say, handing over the last and hardest piece. “We can never be seen in public together. It is too dangerous for you.”

  Surprisingly, she shifts her gaze to meet mine and with tenderness says, “For you too.”

  At that exact moment, I know without a doubt that I have done the right thing. Amber understands the significance of what the necklace means and how it is viewed. She respects the rituals of our fetish, practicing for years. She isn’t just another stripper, but a smart submissive I can use and have at my disposal. I need her on my team.

  “I’m putting you on a private plane tomorrow morning.”

  “Where am I going?”

  “I’ve arranged you a meeting with Zachariah Evans.”

  Her eyes dart around the room. “In Chicago? Isn’t he in prison?”

  “It’s all arranged.”

  “… Am I to entertain him?”

  “I need you to get close to him and find out who he has on the outside.”

  “Why are you so concerned with the Bohemian pacifist?”

  I grip the bridge of my nose as I shake my head and laugh under my breath. “Because I’m smarter than the rest of them.”

  “You’re going to use him.”

  “Damn fucking straight.”

  “Holy fuck that’s brilliant,” she says, scanning over me. “No one will ever see it coming…”

  “Right,” I admit, taking the box of smokes out of my pocket as she rises fast to fetch an ashtray. I fire the lighter as I smirk at the sight of her ass twitching. “So, we need to be building a relationship with him.”

  Handing the crystal tray to me, she takes the cigarette from me, and I light another. “Anyone else?”

  “Maintain the relationship with Cruz. If an opportunity arises to get close to Cristos, take it.”

  “And if Gennaro or your father call?”

  I exhale a line of rings between us as her eyes flutter with amusement. “You call me because the emphatic answer is no.”

  “You are playing for the boys in the south,” she proposes with a dedicated involvement.

  “I’m playing for me and using the boys in the south.”

  “Is there a reason you want to take out your father so much?”

  My jaw clenches as I open up and confess, “Years of abuse is enough of a reason.”

  “Sal…”

  “What?” Perching the cigarette between my lips, I crack my knuckles. “You wanted the truth.”

  “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

  “It doesn’t matter now that he can’t touch me, but I will never forgive him for the shit he did to me, Ma, hell even my witches and I don’t even like them. But no one deserves that.”

  After I stub out the smoke, I lean back and grab the bottle off the coffee table. Pulling the cork, I take a generous swig to wash down the foul taste of the memory. Amber slips her fingers around the bottle and swallows. “No more bad drugs either. You want snow; I will get you the good shit. No more street.”

  “Fair enough.” Taking the final drag on her smoke, she stubs it out with a wide smile and snickers, “Are you buying?”

  “Baby, I done bought you, but you owe me some favors,” I growl with the suggestion, shifting back to lean against the chair.

  Her slow moves entice as she returns to all fours and crawls closer. Without taking her eyes from me, she undoes my belt and relieves the zipper as she persuasively strokes my cock. “Mr. Raniero, you seem to have a problem.”

  “Are you the cure?”

  “Uh huh,” she says, dipping down and soaring her mouth over my shaft.

  “Jesus fuck…” I groan with urgency as I demand, “Come here.”

  She releases upon my command and breathes heavily through her damp lips. I hastily pop the snaps of her garter and smooth my hands over her legs as I roll off her stockings. Stretching out my legs, I put her face down across my lap. I grasp her ankles, and her knees bend as I kiss her toes, slathering each one with a gentle suck. “I want these red—always—come fuck me red.”

  “Yes, Sir. Shall I bill you for that too?”

  With a precise snap, my palm strikes her bottom—over and over and over again until she swells with a redness. Her hips buck up to greet me with a quiet invitation to her craving. My hand rubs over her marked ass, and I slide a single finger up under the thong, running along the fabric. “Are you wet?”

  “I’m soaking,” she whispers, looking up at me. “I want you so bad, Sal.”

  Pushing a single finger inside of her, I offer up a wolfish grin. “Fuck, baby.” I finger fuck her until I cannot handle the throbbing in my dick any longer. With my drenched hand, I rip the minuscule lace from her and toss it aside.

  “That’s gonna cost you.”

  “Start me a fucking tab,” I sneer as she gracefully anticipates my moves and slithers up only to straddle over me. “Fuck me good.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she steadily pants, gripping the base of my cock and sliding on. “How fast do you wanna blow?”

  “Take it as long as you can. Don’t rush. Show me your tits.”

  Her hands move fast to remove the bustier. As soon as the piece is thrown off, my mouth is suckling upon her—needy and hungry. “God, you are such a boob guy.”

  “You have no idea,” I mutter with her nipple pressed to my tongue. My fingers knead the sensuous flesh of the other, tweaking the nipple and bringing it to a generous peak. I switch the whole process as she never stops striding on my hardness. My hands drift to her back as I brace her for my impending thrusts. I’m about to go manic, wild, and fearless as we jump off the edge in the dark and trust in the abyss.

  “Do it, Sal, fuck my pussy. It’s yours. All of me is yours—take me, use me, break me. Just promise to keep me.”

  “I told you,” I growl, dropping my hands to her hips and forcing her to bounce upon my cock. “We are in this together, and I will fucking kill anyone who dares to hurt you
. You are mine. My girl. My bitch. My fucking slut.”

  “I never knew how amazing it would feel to say I’m Sal Raniero’s mistress…”

  I stop my movements with her pussy lips barely surrounding the head of me. “Ya, and I love you, too. Don’t you do anything to hurt me.”

  “Fuck,” she scoffs, shaking her head. “Like I could…”

  The desperation in her blue eyes sends a chill through my spine as I know I will never be the same. I’m shedding the skin of the boy Kaci trained and becoming a man of my own choosing. I’m turning into a monster made to destroy, and the only one who can redirect my flames is Amber. She breaks my fiery waves as I set forth on a journey of complete and total annihilation.

  “You should know darlin’—I’m going to fuck you all night.”

  And I do.

  18. Things Lost

  Saturday, December 25

  7 days before…

  Despite the lack of any sleep, I take Amber to a private airstrip across the lake early the next morning. We ride the new present as I already have bags prepared and on the plane. I need her out of harm’s way for the rumble tonight. While I may not be in the fray, I fear she may be in danger by her mere association with Kaci.

  She has become toxic to everyone around her, and I won’t have my girl becoming a casualty of Kaci’s insanity. No one but Georgia knows my plans of extracting Amber to such a remote location. And the possibility of anyone finding out is so close to zero that I feel good about the decision. She will be safe in a prison cell with The Preacher.

  He may be another bad seed, but if his history is any indication, he is as safe as they come—especially with a female. The gist of it is he has a moral compass which points to not harming women, children, and other innocents. He won’t wash an automatic over a crowd to take one person out. He does intentional hits, solid tactical moves. I’ve been studying his past strats for weeks, pouring over them with Georgia by my side, and contemplating how safe this would be.

  The one thing neither of us can discern is who he has had run his show over the western front while incarcerated. Georgia vowed to continue digging as she stayed guard over our construction guys in Amber’s room. We are on the cusp of our beginning, barely past the starting line, and if we cannot pull this off—maybe we should retreat with our heads down.

  The darkness engulfs and water surrounds like a mammoth sinkhole, lapping at our heels and gnawing at our souls. We are the good guys, choosing to rebel on our own accord. In that, we have become monsters, marrying into mayhem.

  Once we get in bed to consummate the integrity of our plot, there will be no turning back. But as I’m driving across the lake with Amber latched tightly to my backside, I have no fears. This will work, and Amber will work her magic. She will bring the Bohemian minister home to her Italian, and in the end, she’ll end up with a gown made of diamonds.

  The construction and flight crews are both out of Sibyl. With an exceptional ability to stay hush-hush, Georgia helped me arrange it all. She may end up with a platinum tiara and a long line of shimmering bangles because, without her, none of this would have happened. The strange little woman is a miracle in my manipulations and knowing she believes my smile is enough repayment only sweetens the deal.

  I could ride all day with Amber on my back, and unfortunately, we arrive all too soon. I pull up next to the plane at 5:07 and I kiss her goodbye on the tarmac. “I will see you soon.”

  “I know,” she says, standing on her toes and wrapping her arms around my neck. “Do I seriously have to wash your spunk out of me?”

  “Is this your biggest concern?”

  “Uh huh,” she whispers, biting her lip. “I feel you dripping from me.”

  “Remember it. And come back for more.”

  Her auburn locks blow in the breeze. “If something happens with Kace…”

  “You will be the first to know,” I promise, sealing it with another kiss. “Think about me.”

  “You are all I’m going to be thinking about.”

  “Cougar,” I snarl with a curl of my lip. “Sexy fucking kitten.”

  “Meow,” she laughs, batting at me. “Go on and get out of here.”

  I serve up one more Raniero-tongue-lashing as I don’t know if I’m prepared for how much sending her away – even for a few days – hurts. I close my eyes and pick her up into my arms. Her legs readily wrap around me. “We got this,” she mumbles against my neck. “I promise you; we got this.” I let her down and dutifully watch as she walks up the steps.

  God, fuck.

  With a swish of her hair over her shoulder, she waves and says, “I’ll see you on the flip side, Mr. Raniero.”

  I wink and wave.

  But on the ride to the small, colorful diner outside of town, I let the few tears fall. Not because of Amber, but because I know everything changed in a flash. This is all on me now. I cannot fail as I make a stand to fight the force of the Kings.

  Our mission will take time, patience, and persistence. Although the thing tonight is slightly risky, most of what I’m going to be doing is forming relationships with integral players—gangs and clubs. I need their loyalty, and it won’t come cheap or easy. And what is starting with a handful, may end up becoming a full squadron, pledging and praising my name as their new leader. It is not a responsibility I take lightly.

  Once inside, I take a seat at my usual spot, thankful it is still available. The diner is a side project of Dom. I think he is fucking the owner, Ashley Randall. He’ll never admit to it, but I’ve seen the twinkle in both of their eyes whenever we have stopped here. And I should add, we stop here—a lot. Like every single time I’m in town. We ride the causeway, and he’ll claim – he’s famished – even though we may have eaten only an hour before. I’m onto him, and I’ll figure it out.

  Or Georgia will, one.

  “You’re here early!” Ashley chimes from behind the bar, rushing to meet me at the table. With a generous amount of wide hips – don’t even get me started on dat azz – and lush hair, Ashley could pose a threat to my already full roster if she wasn’t fucking Dom. Her hefty bosom rivals that of Georgia. The fleshy melons serve more as a delightful, rare fruit as opposed to some functional body part for which to feed babies. She could feed me. I think her tits are pierced, though I don’t know. It wouldn’t surprise me either, especially since she’s hanging out with The Needle King.

  Ashley’s older than me but younger than him. And every time I visit her little restaurant full of homemade goodness, I briefly wish she would wear her custom red and white checkered apron and nothing else.

  “Deliveries,” I mutter with a smile. “I’m surprised you’re open on Christmas Day.”

  Her face lights up as I ask about her world. “I was going to close up, but many people make a tradition of this, mainly, the older community. But I don’t have any kids, so I decided to open until 10:30. Then I’m going to have lunch with my sister, Allison, and my parents. Tonight, I have an invitation to a certain someone’s Christmas party.” Her cheeks blush as my sweet fishing for intel proved a hefty catch.

  Did you say, sister?

  “And are you coming?” I smirk, knowing the various parties are going on tonight. The backroom party at Gina’s will bring two of the Gods together for a roundtable of discussion at six. We intercept the dock delivery at 7:30 and somehow manage to get back to Dom’s annual Christmas party by 10. None of these people are my blood relatives, but damn if the holidays aren’t busy as fuck in this family.

  “You should bring your sister,” I cough out. “I would love to meet her.”

  Or fuck her hundred ways to New Year’s.

  That may be too low of a number, even for me.

  “I’m thinking about it… But Allison? Seriously? You want me to bring my sister?”

  Sipping on my water, I shoot her a gaze as I can tell she is considering my offer. I touch her hand and encourage, “Sure, why not?”

  “Okay,” she says, grinning ear to ear
. “I’ll think about it. Do you want the usual?”

  I snicker, “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Pitcher of double strength coffee and biscuits and debris coming up,” Ashley booms, hopping up from being crouched by my table. “Oh!” She spins back to me hastily as I catch a whiff of her hair. Immediately, my cock forgets all about the doll I just sent away. She lowers her torso close to me, and I briefly peer down her shirt.

  Ya, Amber is long gone. It’s okay. This is a temporary hiccup of infatuation.

  “And Sally,” she whispers as I try hard not to wish I could die right in the nice punctuated dip. “There is another delivery in the backroom for you.” I furl my brow as she discreetly squeezes my hand and gives me a wink. Looking around the diner, she says, “You got about twenty minutes on that food. I’ll keep your table. And your food hot.”

  No one knew Amber was leaving but Georgia and me.

  Who the fuck is here?

  Sliding out of the bench, I scan the diner for any possible uprisings, but unless Granny has got a gun, I’m the youngest in the joint by forty years. It’s not unheard of, but my gut instincts are firing off with I’m crazy if I think Dom isn’t watching me and this is safe.

  I’ve got pretty good perception, honed by my trainers, but I’m not quick to walk into a dangerous situation either. I take my time, assessing the area and waiting for the random hit. That’d be my luck—death on Christmas Day. A couple of older troopers offer up a nod as I’m sure they recognize me.

  The multiple doors serve as additional security, considering the beloved mafia son—Dom Gennaro—frequents the establishment. For such a dilapidated building, he has outfitted the entire place with state of the art equipment, and that can only mean one thing—he fucking cares about Ashley Randall.

  I swipe my card across the reader and push the code into the pad. Double-protected. Sweet, Dom. She must be a helluva bang. I can’t wait to meet her sister.

  The delivery stands across the room in a hoodie with her backside to me, but I would know that perky ass in a swarm of people. “Jaid…”

  She turns around slow with her head lowered, but as she looks up, all I see is the red I’m going to bleed out of someone’s body when I find out who made her black and blue. “Sal.”