Chapter 4
Frankie
I can’t believe Enzo is prioritizing his nightly fuck over the biggest threat to his empire. It’s not like she won’t be there when he gets back. He had her handcuffed to the bed, for fuck’s sake. He can spare fifteen minutes to see if this tip pans out.
As I push through the door to the back room of the club, my annoyance at Enzo is redirected to Sal and Joey, who are lounging on the couch with a bottle of the good tequila and a couple of shot glasses.
“Seriously?”
They look up in surprise, then have the decency to look slightly ashamed of themselves.
“Are you two just getting paid to drink and fuck around now?”
“We’ve always kind of been paid for that,” Joey points out, and he’s not wrong. On paper, Sal owns the club and Joey manages it. In reality, it’s a Family business, which means all four of us—Enzo, Sal, Joey, and I—run it together. “But this time we’re also spying. We saw those Russian buffoons come back here and go into the exhibition room, so we figured it was the perfect opportunity to gather some intel.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask. “And how’s that going from way over there on the couch?” The couch is in the perfect place to see into the next room, but you can’t hear for shit unless you’re close to the shared wall between the two rooms.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Sal replies, “they already left.”
“What? Already?” I turn to look through the two-way mirror and, sure enough, there’s no one on the other side. “Did you hear what they said?”
“Yeah, it was just normal business stuff. Nothing about trafficking or girls or anything that made us think they were doing something here that we haven’t sanctioned,” says Joey before he pours two more shots and tips his back. “Want one, boss?”
I glare at him, then at Sal. “Did it occur to either of you that they might’ve been speaking in code, knowing there was a chance someone was in this room and could hear them?”
“Sure it did, but that’s not going to do us much good without knowing what the code is. Right?”
These two are usually very good at their jobs, and I’d trust them with my life. But sometimes, they let the fun of running one of the premiere clubs in Chicago get in the way of our real work. “Next time, either record them, write it down, or don’t get drunk while you’re listening. If you could remember what they actually said, we might be able to figure it out.”
“They also could’ve been playing us, planting bad info to get us to chase our tails.”
“They could’ve, but now we have no chance of figuring it out.” I rub my temples with my index fingers, then look back up at the two men I’ve been friends with for years. And, in the case of Sal, fucked for over a year now. “Just get back to work. Take the liquor back to whichever bartender you stole it from.”
“Stole it?” Joey looks offended. “This was freely given to us, compliments of the lovely Karissa.”
Karissa is our best waitress and knows exactly which men to bribe to stay a favorite around here. I can’t blame her for being smart, but she could’ve at least given them a cheaper bottle. These two appreciate anything free, especially if it’s from a pretty girl. Even though they can both afford to buy a whole case of the nicest tequila money can buy.
“Give it back. And get back to work. Maybe if you sober up, you’ll remember what the Russians were talking about.”
“They were talking about going to a different club next weekend, so they wouldn’t have to deal with the dirty Italians spying on them,” Sal says drily.
I stare at him blankly until he rolls his eyes and gets up. “Fine, I don’t remember what they were talking about.”
I turn around to open the door and hold it open so they can leave ahead of me. On his way out, Sal pauses to run his hand down my arm before leaning in and whispering, “Come find me later?”
I don’t make any promises, but we both know I will. Even when he’s doing a shit job—maybe especially then—I can’t resist the opportunity to force my cock down his throat.
But first, I get to wait for Enzo to be done fucking his whore and then tell him the bad news, which means he’ll be pissed. Probably at me. Just what I wanted to deal with tonight. The only thing that might help is he has Elise tonight. I know from experience that she is one of our best escorts.
Sal, Joey, and I have reminisced about her audition many times in the short amount of time she’s worked for us. She seemed too professional—too “proper”—to be able to meet the needs of our clients. But she blew us away when she took everything we gave her, as if having to service three large cocks attached to three well-known mafia members was a normal, everyday occurrence for her. None of us expected her to pass her audition, but she proved us all wrong and went on to quickly become one of our most requested girls. I can’t say for certain, but I don’t think any of us have fucked another girl since her. I know I haven’t.
Tonight is Enzo’s first night with her. I’m not sure what took him so long. She’s exactly his type, and her reputation precedes her. I’m guessing he’s figured out why, and that’s the reason why he wouldn’t make her wait a few minutes to follow the Russians with me. Normally, for something big like that, he’d want to do it himself.
The fact that he wouldn’t leave her alone for a few minutes makes me think that he already views her differently than the other girls, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t worry me.
Sal
Frankie finds me in the storage room. I came to get some bottles to restock the bar. I don’t know if he was waiting for me to come back here, or if he happened to see me and decided to follow. My money is on the former; Frankie is many things, but spontaneous isn’t one of them.
I hear the door lock as I’m rummaging through the shelves, and my cock starts to harden immediately, but I don’t turn around. He loves this game as much as I do. I know he’s pissed about earlier, and he’s going to take it out on me. And then I’ll give him the recording I made of the conversation we overheard. Joey and I like to have fun, but we’re not stupid.
My hand grips the neck of a vodka bottle; at the same time, his hand wraps around the front of my neck. I put my other hand over his instinctively and push back against him, needing to feel his hard cock against my ass. He thrives on being in charge, and I’m happy to let him take what he needs from me.
He bites my ear and grinds against me before turning me around and forcing me to my knees. I set the bottle of vodka on the ground next to me and reach for his belt, but he beats me to it, removing it and unzipping his pants in quick succession.
I can tell he’s worked up because he still hasn’t said a word. He’s expecting me to anticipate his moves, which I can do because we’ve been doing this for a while now. My mouth opens a split second before he thrusts his hips forward and fills it. Already, I can feel my own erection straining painfully against my zipper, but I ignore it. The release is sweeter when I have to wait for it. Sometimes, getting Frankie off turns me on enough that the friction provided by my zipper does the job for me.
He’s rough and doesn’t waste any time, pumping into my mouth with both hands on my head and forcing me to grip his legs for balance. I look up and make eye contact with him, and he groans, closing his eyes and pushing his cock to the back of my throat. He holds himself there and growls, “You have about thirty seconds to make yourself come before I leave.”
I unzip my pants and free my aching erection. It’s drenched in precum and feels like it’s about to explode. Thirty seconds won’t be an issue today. With one hand firmly wrapped around my length and the other stroking Frankie in time with my mouth, I put everything I have into bringing us both to the edge, holding myself there until I feel his cock swelling.
He grunts his release and fills my mouth, and I let myself come all over my hand and the floor. While I catch my breath, he grabs a towel from a cabinet on the other side of the small room and tosses it to me so I can clean up.
“Get back to work,” he says, then he unlocks the door and walks out. I smile. He’s such an ass.