Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Taylor
For a moment after Marco leaves, I just stand naked in my living room, trembling.
What just happened?
That was crazy.
Seriously.
Insane.
I go to the bathroom and twist to look at my heated, tingling ass in the mirror. Marco’s handprints are still all over my lower cheeks.
Wow.
I’m wet– beyond wet–and slightly delirious, almost as if I have a fever. This must be the female equivalent of blue balls.
I feel needy and impatient and a little pissed off that Marco left without getting me off. But I’m sure that was his intention.
He’s making sure I don’t chicken out tonight. Making sure I actually show up.
I will. I don’t want the huge insurance hike from reporting the accident, and I don’t even have coverage on my own car, so I’d be out the full cost of a repair on that.
But who am I kidding? It’s not even about the money.
After what just happened, I want to go tonight.
Yeah, I want to pretend he’s making me, pretend he forced me into this, but that’s because I don’t want to admit the effect it had on me. How addictive I found Marco’s attention. I definitely want more of what he’s dishing out.
I turn on the shower and step under the spray.
Maybe this is the perfect excuse. I get to try out the dark and dirty things I’ve seen at Sins without admitting this might be what I really like.
If I’m super honest with myself, it might be the reason I took the job at Sins.
Yeah, the money is great, but I also was fascinated by what I saw there–from the safety of my position.
I could hide behind the cocktail apron and tray and know I never had to try anything myself.
I take my time in the shower, shaving everywhere, shivering when I realize my body will be on display tonight. Not for everyone–unless Marco chooses that. But Marco will see me again.
You have a beautiful body, Taylor.
He made me feel beautiful. He made me feel free–like I could explore my body and sexuality in a complete judgement-free zone.
I mean, I guess that’s what Sins is supposed to be, but I never gave myself permission to try anything there. I just needed to be coerced.
And I’m definitely not sorry that Marco is the one pushing me. I always had a fascination for dark villains–not that Marco is so villainous. He’s usually a gentleman.
He always tips me well and treats me with respect.
Although there is also always the uncurrent of sex.
He gives me the appreciative up-and-down sweep of his gaze when I approach.
Speaks in a sexy, low rumble, and lets his lids drop to half-mast when he smiles or flirts.
You might say he is respectfully disrespectful toward women.
I finish my shower and step out, wrapping a towel around my body.
Marco and the guys he comes in with are mafia, though, for sure, so that makes him the villain. But it’s not his Family ties that bother me.
What bothers me is knowing I will be one of at least three dozen different women he’s scened with at Sins this year.
The guy is a total player.
Which, I guess, is fine. It means he’s experienced. He will know what he’s doing. I believe him when he said he would make it good for me.
Anyway, it’s not like I’m thinking this will go anywhere.
It’s not like I’m going to date the guy.
I just have to show up and let him do depraved things to my body.
It’s not a bad trade, so long as I prevent myself from wanting more.
Because with Marco, that’s an impossibility.
Marco
That afternoon Don Pachino leans back in his chair and considers me, my brother, Leo, and my cousin, Armando.
We’re on the outside patio of Tony’s, the sidewalk cafe with the best calzones in Chicago. This is where the don likes to conduct business.
“I need you guys to take care of something.”
“Of course,” Armando says, but then his phone buzzes on the table where he laid it facedown. He jerks and looks at it guiltily, but doesn’t move to pick it up.
“Am I interrupting something?” The don doesn’t like to be disrespected, and he especially doesn’t like anyone touching a phone while he’s talking.
Armando’s throat bobs. It appears to be taking all his effort not to flip the phone over and take the call. I don’t know what he was thinking, leaving it out on the table. He’s usually smarter than that. Lately, his head isn’t in the game though because– Oh .
“Could that be about Hannah?” I ask, trying to have his back.
“Oh, yeah,” Leo catches on.
“Yeah.” Armando flips his phone over so fast Don G instinctively reaches for his gun.
The moment Armando reads his screen he shoots to his feet. “It’s time! Her water broke. I have to go.” Then, collecting himself, he looks to the don. “I’m sorry, Don G. No disrespect.”
The don waves a dismissive hand. “Go. Be with your wife. Let us know how it goes.”
He waits until Armando is out of earshot before he chuckles and shakes his head. “I remember when Summer was born. It’s not a fast process for first babies. I doubt that baby will be born before sunrise.”
“Yeah?” I say. What do I know about babies?
“But, of course, he needs to be there for Hannah.” He steeples his fingers together. “I can’t rely on Armando having any focus for the next year. I need you two to stay sharp.”
“Of course, Don G.”
“Absolutely,” Leo says.
He sits back and pulls a cigar from his inner pocket. “As soon as a guy gets married and has kids, he goes soft. Suddenly, all they can think about is how precious life is.” He snips the end off his cigar.
“Well, we have no plans to marry any time soon,” I say.
“True story,” Leo agrees. “You probably don’t ever have to worry about Marco in that department. He hasn’t dated the same girl twice since third grade.”
The don chuckles.
I smile, but I’m thinking about Taylor. How she surrendered to me this morning. How much I fucking loved it.
She’s the kind of girl I would date twice. She’s the kind who would be worth keeping.
Forever.
I can’t wait until tonight when I get to reward her for her submission. Get to show her everything she’s been missing while she skirted around the BDSM scenes at Sins and pretended she wasn’t into it.
And now I’m thinking about sex in front of the don.
I clear my throat. “So what do you need us to take care of?”
“I need a message sent to the stronzos moving in on my Saturday card game.”
“Who is it? The Russians?” There’s been a tentative peace between the Chicago bratva, the Pachinos and the Tacone Family for the last ten years, but everyone knows those kind of truces can easily go south.
Just a few years ago Junior Tacone, head of the other Italian mafia family, single-handedly wiped out an entire bratva cell at an Italian deli. There were no complaints from Ravil Baranov, the boss of the opposing bratva cell.
“No, the Russians can have their game. This is a couple of drug dealers looking to supplement their income.” He shows me the Instagram page of a guy posing with a flashy Corvette. “Find out where the game is this weekend. End it. I want them out of my fucking town.”
“Consider it done.”
Leo cracks his knuckles. “The guy is toast.”
Don G slaps a meaty hand down on Leo’s shoulder and stands. “Good. Let me know when it’s done.”
“Absolutely,” I say, also getting to my feet.
Acting as enforcer for the boss is our regular job. This won’t be a problem. I’m just relieved it can wait until Saturday, because I wouldn’t want anything to interfere with my plans tonight with Taylor.
Of course, Leo reads my mind. He knew where I was headed this morning when I went to Taylor’s.
“How did it go with the cocktail waitress?”
For some reason, I’m annoyed by the question, even though we usually banter about our latest conquests without filters.
It’s because Taylor doesn’t feel like a conquest and I don’t like Leo even talking about her.
“Her name is Taylor. And I took care of it.”
Leo’s brows rise at my business-like tone. “It sounds like you didn’t enjoy it.”
“Oh, I enjoyed it. I just don’t want you disrespecting her.”
“Huh. It’s like that.” Leo looks at me like I’m a new person.
Hell, maybe I am. Taylor’s someone special.
“Like what?”
Leo’s lips quirk, but being my younger brother, he’s smart enough not to poke the bear. “Nothing.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “Nevermind. I’m glad you took care of it.”
The image of Taylor standing naked before me pops into my mind and my nostrils flare at the reminder of how incredible she looked bared to me. How much I loved the feel of her skin, the sound of her little cries when I punished her.
I can’t fucking wait until tonight.
By the end of the night, Taylor will be mine.