Bad Boy's Toy: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Read online

  “Yep,” I said, going to her, meeting her in the middle. “What are you doing here? Everything okay?”

  As I walked closer, I realized she'd been crying. Even with her makeup washed from her face, I could see the puffiness around the eyes. She sniffled a little. “No,” she said flatly, her voice stuffy-sounding from the tears she must've been shedding by the bucket. “I came to get a room and lie low.”

  “Lie low?” I asked, glancing around the parking lot. If she was in trouble, maybe I could help.

  “Yeah,” she said, sniffling again. “I ran away from the place where I was living.”

  “From your pimp, you mean,” I said. “From Daddy Williams.”

  A look of surprised shame passed over her face, and she looked away, her eyes lowered. “I was just an escort for Daddy,” she nearly whispered. “I never fucked a man just for the money. Is that what you thought I was? Some whore?”

  That hurt. Now it was my turn to look away. “Look, I didn't know till I went back to the roadhouse and some of the guys mentioned it towards the end of the game, all right?”

  “Well, I'm not one. I'm out of that. I ran away when he tried to lock me in my room for the night. He wants me to be a whore, but I told him no.”

  I nodded, a perplexed look on my face as I spotted a random leaf entwined in her dark red curls.

  She flinched as I pulled the random bit of yard trash from her hair. She just shook her head as she looked at it.

  “Where you headed next, then?”

  She sighed and looked up at me, resolve entering her eyes as she lifted her chin. “Back to the Mansion. I need to get my friend Kessa out, too.”

  I almost burst out laughing, but I managed to keep it in. Her tiny little frame all squared off and her shoulders pushed back like she was ready to fight the world struck me as comical. At the same time, though, it was admirable. She was willing to fight a man like Daddy Williams, a man I'd heard stories about that were nearly as bad as the ones that circled around Tambor. So instead, I just nodded. “Not much of an escape plan, is it?”

  She smiled a little and sniffed again. “She's my friend. I have to help her. Or, well, at least try. Then I can leave.”

  A plan started to form in my head, then. Daddy Williams would love to have this sweet little thing back, I knew it. And he'd probably pay well to get her, too. Maybe he'd pay well enough that I could use the finder's fee to pay back Tambor and wipe my slate clean. Then I wouldn't have to sell my mother's ring, and I wouldn't have to kidnap some school kid.

  After all, I rationalized, even if Micah hadn't chosen to become a whore, she'd still made the choice to work for a man like Daddy Williams as an escort. She'd known what was going to come down the pike. She had to have.

  The kid Tambor wanted me to kidnap? He was innocent. His only crime was having an older brother who couldn't gamble worth a damn. Besides, taking Micah back in one piece to the Mansion wasn't going to wind up with me doing ten-to-twenty in the pen.

  I nodded, a slow smile creeping onto my lips. “Tell you what,” I said, nodding to my room. “I got a place here. Why don't you spend the night and take a load off? Daddy's guys come sniffing around here, first place they're going to look is the front desk, and there ain't no way that sleezebag Jake's not gonna give you up.”

  She smiled broadly, swiping away a tear from her eye. “Yeah, Ford,” she said with a nod. “That'd be great. Thanks.”

  “Anytime, babe,” I said, stepping past her and leading the way up to my room.

  Maybe, I thought, Lady Luck was still smiling on me. Maybe.

  Chapter Seven

  Micah

  Who knew those old movies would come in handy? Or that bedsheets tied together really would work as a rope to get you down from the second story? Too bad I didn't have enough sheets to get me all the way to the ground.

  I ended up having to drop the last ten feet or so into the bushes, rolling over the soil and grass as I took the fall.

  “Dang it,” I breathed as I jumped up, brushing grass clippings and leaves from my jeans and shirt-shirt. Then, double dang it! I'd forgotten my wad of cash up in my room! All I had on me was a few bucks I'd stuffed in my jeans when I'd gone out for dinner with Kessa the other night.

  I nearly burst into tears as I stood there in the middle of the lawn, staring up at my open window, with the bedsheet hanging from it like a white flag of surrender.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! I shouldn't have done this while I was so riled up from having watched Daddy's assault on Kessa. But then again, I hadn't had any time to waste. It was then, or never.

  I sniffled, looking around the lawn. I quickly remembered where I was and, cursing my stupidity and scatter-brainedness, ran out to the edge of the estate. If I really hoofed it, I'd figured at the time, I could make it somewhere where I could catch a ride, maybe even get a room and some place to stay. Maybe even find some help.

  A few miles, and two sore feet, later, and I was stumbling up to the motel. I saw Ford pull in as I was casing the place for a likely ride out of town, and I had an idea. He was a tough bruiser and looked like he'd been around the block a few times. Right then, more so than the first time I'd seen him.

  Maybe, just maybe, I could get him to help me bust Kessa out? The trick to getting him to go along, though, would be to get him to offer first. You always wanted someone to think an idea was theirs. And then, you just had to sweeten the deal and make it too hard to resist.

  And now, here I was, seated in Ford's room at the motel's little table, my hands crossed on my lap as he brought me a beer he'd been storing in the room's mini-fridge. He twisted the top off and set it down in front of me. I didn't generally like beer, but I knew I needed something to calm my nerves.

  “So,” he said, beer in hand as he eased into the chair across from me. “You wanna bust your friend Kessa out? What's your plan?”

  “I don't know, yet,” I admitted. “But I know if I can find someone else to help me, I can make it a twofer.”

  “A twofer?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

  I took a sip off my beer, making a face. “Daddy's safe. I know the combination, and I've seen inside it. He must have close to a million bucks in there, all hard cash.”

  He laughed and shook his head, setting his beer aside. “A million bucks? You gotta be shitting me!”

  I gave a wide-eyed look. “No, I'm serious. He trusted me and Kessa the most out of his girls; we were his favorites before we disappointed him. He's so sure of himself, and sure we'd never do anything to cross him, that he let us stay in the room when he was putting away the cash at the end of the night.”

  He stroked his chin, a distant look on his face. “You said you needed help with this plan, didn't you? A second person, at least, to help you get in?”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding and grabbing my beer. “You know someone?” I took a big drink, mentally crossing my fingers and hoping he was about to ask what I thought he was.

  He laughed. “Yeah. Me.”

  I shook my head as I swallowed down the booze. “No, Ford. I couldn't ask you. We hardly know each other, and you're already doing so much by putting me up here.”

  “Hey,” he said. “I ain't doing it just ’cause it's the right fucking thing, all right? I wanna get paid on this deal, too. I want half of what's in the safe.”

  “Half?” I asked, pretending I was unsure.

  “Half.”

  Sure, he could have half. My half would be more than enough to get me started in Hollywood, and be plenty to buy a whole new wardrobe. Still though, you don't want them to think things are too easy. “But it's my plan.”

  “Then no deal,” he said, taking another sip of beer.

  I frowned and sighed. “Fine,” I relented. “Fine, you can have half.”

  He nodded. “Good. Now, if you're so worried about putting me out by being here . . .” He trailed off as he patted his knee.

  Thoughts of our little tryst on the roadside filled my head, along with t
he memory of him shoving into me from behind. I suddenly wanted to see him naked, to see how his hard body really looked in the light. The time before, with him just pulling his jeans down, hadn't exactly given me a great view.

  Then, of course, there were the tools he was playing the game with. I wanted to get my hand around it, this time.

  I bit my lip as I looked at him, fluttering my eyelashes again. I set my beer aside. “What'd you have in mind, Ford?” I asked, my voice suddenly raspy and low with lust.

  “I could think of a couple things,” he said, his eyes heavy lidded with desire as he looked me up and down.

  I got up slowly, walked around the table and sat down in his lap, my legs draped across him like I was riding sidesaddle as I put my arms around his neck. “This along the right track?” I asked.

  “Something like that,” he replied as his big, gnarled hand, with all its cuts and scrapes across the knuckles, slipped beneath my shirt and rubbed across my side. His callouses brushed across my skin, making me tremble with anticipation. He leaned in as he pulled me to him, kissing me hard.

  I opened my mouth to his tongue, loving the way he tasted. Just like I remembered. A hint of mint, a hint of beer, all sex and heat.

  He growled into my mouth as I locked my lips around his tongue, sucked it into my mouth, and brushed my teeth over it. He kissed me back hard after he got it back, biting my lip.

  We continued to make out, his hands roaming over my body, leaving trails of fire behind them. He pulled my shirt off my body, and his hands brushed over my flat tummy, over the front of my bra.

  “It's a front clasp,” I offered as our lips parted.

  “Easy access,” he said, his teeth and lips finding my neck as his fingers released my breasts.

  His lips and tongue sent a tremor through me, drenching my sex immediately. I groaned, craning my neck to the side, giving him more of the access he seemed to crave. I rubbed a hand up and down the back of his neck, my nails lightly teasing the nape.

  He slipped his big, powerful hand over my breast, his rough palm teasing my nipples as he moved in circles before covering them entirely.

  Pleasure moved through me like the waves from a rock being tossed into a pond, gentle little swells of ecstasy. I arched my back, pushing more of myself into his hand.

  Suddenly, though, he grabbed me tight and pulled his mouth from my neck and shoulders. Without warning he stood up from the chair, carrying me in his arms like I was light as a feather. He took me over to the bed, gently laid me down on it, then took his boots off and stood back up to begin taking his shirt off.

  I slipped the bra straps over my shoulders, tossing it away as I enjoyed the show. I licked my lips as I looked up at him.

  God, he was hot. Tattoos covered his chest, an anchor on one side, a skull on the other. A tattoo and a heart, with the word Mother stenciled inside. His abs were like a washboard, ribbed and hard looking, veins covering his muscles. Bruises were all over his torso, already black and blue. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen a man so sexy. He should have been modeling underwear instead of playing poker back at that dive bar.

  And I got him all to myself, I realized. I licked my lips as my eyes trailed down his body, my eyes settling on the huge package in the front.

  “Come here,” he said with that voice of authority he'd had on the road earlier in the evening, one hand out and beckoning to me.

  As if in a daze, I sat up and spun my legs around, hanging them off the edge of the bed as I took a seat right in front of him. I looked up at him and swallowed.

  He cupped my cheek with his hand and brushed his thumb over my skin. “Take it out,” he ordered, his voice husky and low.

  My eyes still fixated on his, I began to undo his belt, my hands going through the motions as if they were on autopilot.

  He looked down at me, his hand still stroking my cheek.

  My mouth fell open. I licked my lips as I found the button on his jeans and undid it with one hand. With the other I stroked his bulge through the denim, loving how it felt under my hand.

  He groaned, his eyes closing a little, his breath coming faster.

  I pulled down the zipper, tugging the tab slowly so it barely crept down the teeth, torturing him with anticipation.

  He breathed faster, his tongue flicking across his lips as I tugged his jeans and his boxer briefs down over his hips. I had my first look at his swollen member, and it was as thick and manly as I'd imagined when he'd slammed it into me earlier in the night. A pearly drop of excitement sat at the end, just begging for me to lick it off.

  I finished getting his jeans down, leaving them pooled around his ankles. My mouth was watering as I looked at his hard length, wondering if I could fit my lips around it.

  He stepped out of his jeans and kicked them away. “Suck me,” he ordered.

  My pussy soaked itself at his commanding tone. I leaned forward, happy to comply, and wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft. My eyes still on his, I slithered my tongue out, licked the drop of his pre-cum from the tip, and began to swirl it around his big, purple crown.

  He threw his head back and groaned as I took him in my mouth. I sucked lightly on just the tip and stroked the shaft with my hand. “Goddamn,” he growled. “Your mouth is amazing.”

  I smiled around him as I took a little more in my mouth, loving the feel and smell of him. He was so manly, so hard and soft at the same time, and his fragrance filled my nose. I'd never been much for going down on guys, but something about Ford just made me want to open my mouth and beg for it.

  His hand came up, his fingers brushing through my hair as I bobbed my head on his shaft, taking more of him in my mouth. His hips began to move as he moaned louder, more insistently.

  I pulled back a little, pursed my lips together, then pushed them back down over his head, taking his shaft as deep as I could before I gagged. I flicked my tongue along the bottom side of his shaft as I slid him from my mouth, then did it all over again, my fingers wrapped around him trailing along behind the whole time.

  From the way his hips thrust forward, I could tell he loved it.

  And since he did, I did, too. There was something about pleasuring a man like this. Even though I didn't really enjoy it all the time, it was nice to know how much enjoyment they were getting. I reached up between his leg, grabbed his balls, and hefted them in my hand, loving how full they felt even after the hard fucking he'd given me earlier.

  “Damn, Micah,” he groaned, his fingers lightly brushing a stray curl from my face. “You're amazing at this. I've never had one this good.”

  I took him from my mouth and smiled up at him, one hand slowly stroking up and down his shaft as I massaged him with the other. “It's ’cause I'm enjoying the job,” I purred, dipping my lips back down and taking him deeper in my mouth, the head pressing all the way to the back of my throat.

  “Enjoying it, huh?” he asked, his hands tightening in my curls, pulling a little.

  My pussy seemed to light on fire as he took control of my head, as he pulled my hair. I groaned around his shaft as it filled my mouth. Suddenly, I felt like a dirty slut, and I realized I liked being one. At least for him. I looked at him, nodding, my eyes watering.

  He pushed more of his cock into my mouth, forcing it deeper. I took my hand from his shaft and unsnapped my jeans, stuffing it down the front of pants, desperately seeking my clit. I just wanted to get off, to release some of this tension with a little bit of pleasure.

  “No,” he barked, his hips still moving as he held my head in place. “Get your hands out of your jeans. I didn't say you could play with yourself, did I?”

  I whimpered around his cock, even as it continued to slide in and out, past my lips, but I took my hand from my jeans. I just wanted to be touched, to get off, to feel the pleasure he'd given me earlier in the evening. I knew, though, that he'd take care of me, just like he had before.

  “Not yet,” he said, stroking my face, wiping some of the saliva from my ch
in with his thumb, “but soon.” He grabbed the back of my head, beginning to pull me onto his mouth. “I'm close, Micah.”

  I didn't care that my jaw hurt. I just cared that he was about to get off. I took over from him, his heavy balls slapping me in the chin as I gagged myself on his giant manhood. I reached around behind him, grabbed his cheeks, and pulled him farther into my mouth. I looked up just as his whole body tensed, and he began to fill my mouth.

  “Oh, fuck!” he groaned, stopping for a moment, his face becoming a mask of pleasure, his mouth open, his eyes squinted shut. “Oh, Jesus,” he gasped.

  I never swallowed. I did for him, though. I swallowed as much as I could, sucking hard on him, milking him for more. He tasted sweet and salty, just amazing, and I wanted more of him.