Becoming the Street Boss: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  Nodding, I inhale a quick breath and take another step inside. “I have to go and man the front, but seriously, anything you want to ask. Please do,” she says, almost urgingly. “I just, I know that you were a virgin until last week, so please ask me.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  Thankfully, she leaves me with that, and I watch her walk away in her tight skirt and high heels. Shifting my gaze back to the room around me, I inhale a deep breath and move toward a wall with all red pieces.

  I like the color red, I always have. My aunt told me that only whores wore red, but with my dark hair and olive skin, I know that red looks good with my complexion. Lifting my hand, I touch a piece of fabric.

  I’m not exactly sure how the garment is worn, it’s all little pieces of thin straps. It’s a two-piece, but it looks like it’s made completely of bra straps.

  The bra has an underwire, then four straps that go across where the cups would be, but no other fabric, just three horizontal straps. The back clasps like a regular bra and the arm straps are just like a normal one as well.

  Picking up the bottom of the lingerie, I turn it around in my hands, trying to figure it out. There is a very small piece of the fabric to cover my center, but a string up the back that no doubt fits between the cheeks of my ass.

  The sides are high, two thigh straps, one that will no doubt rest above my hipbones, the other that will wrap around my mid-hip. Then there are straps that hang down with small clips, no doubt garters that hook on to nylons.

  “You don’t have to wear thigh-highs with those,” Lenora’s voice softly explains.

  Turning my head, I look back over my shoulder. Her lips curve up into a small smile. She closes the distance between us. I watch her hand as she reaches past me and takes a small package off of the wall.

  “You slip these up your thighs then clip the garters to the hook, instead of wearing complete thigh highs. Unless you want thigh highs, I have those too,” she explains.

  I think about Massimo and what he might like. I have no clue what he finds sexy, but I think that he would find this entire outfit completely shocking. He wouldn’t expect it from me and for some reason, I want to surprise him.

  “I don’t know,” I mumble.

  Lenora doesn’t laugh at me and I can’t see even an ounce of judgment in her eyes as she watches me. “Men like thigh highs, but they like this look too. Let’s get you one of each. Something with thigh highs and this without?”

  Licking my lips, I dip my chin in a nod. “Okay,” I agree.

  “What color do you think for the other outfit? I love this red for you, by the way,” she says, chatting as she takes the pieces from my hand and heads toward the opposite wall of where I’m standing.

  “This one only comes in black, but it’s really, really, sexy. Like off the charts,” she says as she reaches for a black one-piece, then turns around facing me as she holds it in the air.

  It’s a bodysuit, but it’s not like one I’ve ever seen before. There is no bra at all not even an illusion of one, it’s completely cupless. There is a small underwire at the bust, and an outline of straps that make a triangle, but then nothing where the cups would be.

  The waist is cinched in by small strings of ribbon that give it an appearance of a corset. Everything else on the outfit is sheer mesh fabric, and four long pieces hang down.

  I lift my eyes back up to the cupless bra area and wonder if Massimo would find my small breasts appealing in something like that?

  “Now, this has a pair of crotchless panties that go with it. That way there’s no messing with the garters once it’s all in place. To be honest, I prefer the crotchless bodysuits or ones with crotchless panties if I’m going to wear one to bed. It can be a real mood killer to try and wrangle out of them, especially with thigh highs and garters,” she explains matter-of-factly.

  Biting the corner of my lip, I wonder if this is all too much. Maybe I should go back to the more demure department of the store.

  “Be daring,” Lenora whispers.

  My face heats as I shift my gaze up to meet hers. Her lips turn up into a small smile. “If this is what you want to wear, then wear it. The most important part of sex is feeling beautiful. You deserve to feel gorgeous and sexy. If this is what you want to wear, wear it. Massimo will love anything on you.”

  Reaching for the black bodysuit, I feel the soft mesh fabric of the waist between my fingers. I imagine what the piece will look like on my thin frame, then nod my head. “Yeah. I want to try these, maybe get one more, something softer too?”

  “Good girl.” Lenora grins with a wink.

  It doesn’t take me long to pick a more innocent outfit. I choose a navy blue slip with matching panties and sheer cups at the breast.

  Lenora happily rings me up, then wraps up my purchase. Just as she said, she doesn’t have an ounce of judgment in her eyes. Before I leave, she reaches out, her hand around my wrist.

  “I have Sunday off if you want to go furniture shopping?”

  My breath hitches at her offer. “Are you sure?”

  Her lips twitch into a small smile. “It’s no hardship, I want to. I love to shop for furniture and I remember how overwhelming it is to furnish a whole house.”

  I agree, she promised to text me with a time and I leave Sugar Cookies feeling a whole lot better than I did when I walked in. I still don’t feel like I belong, or that I ever will.

  However, right now, I don’t feel so alone. Even if I’ll never belong with the wives, having Lenora at my side makes me feel a heck of a lot better.

  MASSIMO

  The small pink box in my hand almost feels heavy as I walk into the house from the garage. The bag of dinner feels like a lead weight as well. Perhaps it’s not the food that feels heavier than normal, but instead my mood. Today has been a fucking clusterfuck of a day.

  Gavino and his demand of raising the protection collections has caused me nothing but goddamn headaches.

  The men don’t give a fuck, they’re happy to collect the funds for their boss, but some of the shop owners are being difficult, to say the least. The new bakery owner has me on edge. He is just the kind of man that I don’t need. He’s dumb, but he is also someone that could gather his neighbors and stupidly stir shit up.

  Walking into the kitchen, I notice that Pippa is exactly where I told her I wanted her. I can see her long black hair as she sits in the chair, her back to me.

  “I’m home,” I sigh as I set the bags down on the counter. Turning from her, I open the cabinets and take out two plates.

  I didn’t do anything fancy today. In fact, I have a grocery order to be delivered tomorrow. I’m tired of takeout and hope that Pippa will be cooking from now on. Honestly, I hope that she knows how. I never asked, I just placed an order while I was waiting for that fucker Roman to grace me with his presence.

  Plating the steaks, baked potatoes, and roasted vegetables, I lift my eyes to the table. Pippa has already set it with napkins, wine, water, and silverware. I’m glad that she’s done that, I’m fucking mentally exhausted.

  Walking up behind her, I set her plate down before I lean down and touch my mouth to the top of her head before I make my way over to my own seat. Setting my plate down, I let out a heavy sigh as I sink down in my chair.

  Pippa hasn’t said anything. Lifting my gaze to hers, I frown at the bright red lipstick on her mouth. Dropping my eyes from her lips, my brows lift at the outfit she’s wearing.

  It’s absolutely nothing like the other things she’s worn the past few days. It’s fucking raunchy, almost a bondage-style with all the straps and strings that hardly cover her small bare breasts.

  It’s breathtaking.

  “Dolcezza,” I rasp. She lifts her gaze from her lap, meeting mine and I see the trepidation in her eyes. “Come to me,” I softly order.

  She stands, my heart races at the sight of the entire piece as she slowly walks over to me. The outfit matches her red lips, her shoes are black and sky-high.
There are straps wrapped around her thighs, fuck, she looks deliciously naughty.

  “You go shopping for more than furniture today?” I ask as she approaches me.

  I shift my chair to the side watching her. She stops right in front of me, otherwise not moving. “I didn’t have anything that you hadn’t already seen before,” she admits.

  Nodding my head once, I lift my eyes to meet hers. “This is what you like?”

  She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. I hold my expression impassive as I wait for her answer. Pippa inhales a deep breath, then nods her head once before she speaks.

  “I wanted something sexy, something that I thought you would like to see me in. If you don’t like this, I have another slip like the others,” she says, her words coming out quickly as her cheeks turn pink.

  Lifting my hand, I extend my index finger and slip it beneath the straps at her breast. Running the back of my knuckle along her nipple, I grin at how hard the sweet bud is against my finger.

  “I like it, Pippa. It makes you feel sexy and I like that too,” I murmur. “Tonight, instead of sitting across the table from me, will you face me, spread your legs and let me see all of you while we enjoy our meal?” I ask, making sure to keep my voice even and low. Though it’s not a question, she doesn’t really have a choice.

  Her entire body trembles from my words and I think that she’s going to deny me, but instead she jerks her head in a stiff nod. She takes a step back and I watch as she gathers her things from her place setting before carrying it over to my side of the table.

  Without a word, she sits on the edge of her seat, spreads her legs, and licks her lips as her eyes watch me.

  Turning toward her, I slide my hand up the inside of her thigh. There is a piece of satin covering her pussy and I wish that it weren’t there. Slipping my finger beneath the offensive fabric, I grin as goosebumps break out over her skin. Running my digit through her folds, my eyes never leave hers.

  “Massimo,” she breathes as her legs spread farther apart and she shifts even closer to the edge of the seat.

  Grinning, I shake my head once. “Beautiful. Stay like that, yeah? I want to touch you and often.”

  “Okay,” she exhales.

  That is how we eat our dinner. Every now and then, I slip my fingers beneath the satin fabric of her covered pussy and play with her. I watch as her breathing turns into pants and her eyes roll back before her lids close.

  Her hips search for more, right before I remove my finger and go back to my food. It’s a game that I play, loving every fucking reaction that I pull from her.

  Every goddamn reaction.

  I fuck her right there on that table, next to our empty plates, before I feed her cannolis in bed. Then, I fuck her again before we fall asleep wrapped in one another’s arms. It’s the first time in my entire goddamn life that I fall asleep with a fucking smile on my face.

  It’s the first time I feel what true happiness must be.

  Chapter Eighteen

  MASSIMO

  Pulling Pippa closer to me, I bury my face in the side of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent as I curve my body around hers. She hums, letting out a small sigh before she turns her head slightly, touching her mouth to mine.

  “Good morning,” she sighs.

  I grunt, wondering how I could want her yet again. Swear to God, my cock has never been so goddamn hard as it is with her anywhere near me.

  “Morning, dolcezza,” I rasp.

  I feel her smile against my lips, then her teeth gently nip my bottom lip. “Tell me something, Massimo,” she softly asks.

  “Like?”

  She doesn’t say anything immediately. “About you. I want to know everything, but I’m willing to settle for just one thing.”

  Laughing lowly, I wonder how this woman ended up as mine. She could have anyone, any man at her feet and yet she agreed to be mine. Inhaling a deep breath, I slide my hand up the center of her chest, wrapping my fingers around one of her breasts.

  “When I was young, my mother and I, we were alone much more often than my father was around. Even when he was, he was there for one thing and one thing only and that one thing was not to visit me. He and my mother would stay locked in her room for hours. He would sometimes have dinner with us later, ruffle my hair, give me a hug when she urged him to.”

  She hums, touching her mouth to my jaw. “My father wasn’t around much either. It was usually just me and my sisters. My mother was very busy doing whatever it was my mother did.”

  Pulling her closer to me, I shift my hand from her gorgeous tit down to the glory between her thighs. Slipping my hand between her folds, I moan at the warmth beneath my fingertips. She’s always so fucking ready for me, something I had hoped would happen between us, but wasn’t sure if it would take time.

  “Spread for me, Pippa,” I demand.

  She lifts her leg, wrapping it around the back of my thigh as she spreads wide for my touch. I play her sweet body while I continue talking to her, telling her a bit about my childhood.

  “What did you and your mother do?” she breathes against my jaw.

  I hum. “From what I remember, we went to the movies, the park, but that’s not what I remember the most, the places we went. I remember she was always smiling. Always. Her face could light up the darkest day, do you know why I picked you, Pippa? Do you know why I was more than happy to marry a woman that I don’t truly know?”

  Telling her any of this, it’s more than I’ve ever told a living soul. Right now, she knows more about me than any other living human.

  “Why, Massimo?” she asks, her voice breathy as her pussy grows wet beneath my gentle touch.

  Growling softly, I slip my fingers inside of her wet heat. “Because you smiled freely, Pippa. You laughed in the café with your friends, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  She trembles, then touches her mouth to my jaw again. “I could fall in love with you, Massimo,” she says.

  I want to tell her the same. Fuck, it could be so easy to love this beautiful creature beneath me, to love my wife. I can’t though. Not only does it make me vulnerable to the rest of the world, and to her, but it also just plain terrifies me.

  The only person I’ve ever loved is my mother and she was taken from me. If Pippa is taken, or leaves in some way, I may not survive it. I can’t tell her that, can’t admit it, not aloud and not to myself either.

  Shifting my hips, I slide inside of her sweet cunt. We don’t speak again, not words anyway. I fuck my wife until she’s screaming my name.

  Then I leave her sleeping soundly in our bed. I have collections to make, and a fuckload of work to do.

  Driving toward the dry cleaners, I’m not surprised to see Gallo working. Parking in front of his shop, I look into his window. He’s standing behind the counter, his head dipped. His daughter is at his side, taking the place that his wife stood the last time I was in there.

  I wonder who the fuck took the picture of me at his house? I wonder how they got my email address? I wonder a fuck of a lot. All I can think is that his wife had something to do with it. His wife who is dead and I can’t ask.

  Unfolding from my car, I straighten my jacket as I make my way toward the door. Slipping inside, I don’t miss the way both of them jump, then look up with wide terrified eyes. I guess I would have too if I was face-to-face with the man who killed my mother.

  “I have your money,” Gallo immediately announces.

  Dipping my chin, I close the distance between us. “Keep this month, yeah?”

  “Why?” he asks, almost in a shout.

  Smiling, my gaze shifts to the girl, then back to his. “I know you were not the one who caused an issue. Consider it an apology for what had to happen. Use it for whatever you need it for. Nothing will happen to you, or your daughter.”

  “Thank you, Massimo,” he rasps.

  Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around his shoulder and give him a gentle shake. “You’re a good man,”
I say. “I respect you, greatly.”

  His eyes widen and he dips his chin. “You let me know if you ever need anything, yeah?”

  “Thank you,” he rasps.

  Releasing my hold on his shoulder, I take a step back, then jerk my chin toward the daughter who is watching me, her eyes terrified and yet, curious. Smirking at her, I shake my head once then turn around and make my way out of the dry cleaners.

  My next stop is the bakery. I’m not going to be talking to Roman again, but I want to make sure that the men are making their presence known. When I arrive, I smirk at the sight of my man standing right next to the front door, another sits inside at a table.

  Guiding my car over to the nearest parking spot, I decide that I need some more desserts for Pippa. She loved the cannoli last night. I don’t know if it was because I fed it to her after I made her come twice, or if it was really that good, but I know that Roman’s bakery is one of the best in Brooklyn.

  Dipping my chin to my man next to the door, I slip inside and stand in line. Gazing at the treats, I try to think about what I want to take to her tonight. What do I want to see her devour as she sits completely naked in front of me?

  “Can I help you?” a girl asks.

  Lifting my gaze to hers, I give her a small smile. “Yeah, you have sfogliatelle today?”

  “We do,” she says with a red blush to her cheeks.

  Grinning, I shake my head once. She’s a pretty little thing, probably the same age as my wife, in her early twenties. I watch as she bites her bottom lip and her nostrils flare.

  I could have her, without a doubt. Plus, in my position, with the way that Roman owes me, I definitely could take her. She doesn’t make my cock stand hard though, for whatever fucking reason, my body only wants Pippa’s.

  “I’ll take half a dozen,” I order, keeping my voice soft.