Bad Boy's Toy: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Page 8
I felt like I was on a rollercoaster, the way I shook. He pushed deep inside me, deeper than any man ever had. I knew that, with the way his strong hands were holding me, I couldn't move even if I wanted to. For now, though, there was no chance of that happening!
He let go of my hip with one hand, finding a pendulous breast instead. He grabbed me firmly, his fingers playing roughly with my nipple as he pulled me up till I was almost standing, my legs bumping into the table with each thrust from behind.
“Oh, Ford!” I called out as he bit my shoulder, as his hand dropped my breast and dipped down between my legs.
His fingers found my clit and began to slide wetly over it. He bit harder on me, sending a wave of pleasure pain through my body.
I moaned in pleasure, my whole body alight with it as he continued to fuck me from behind, his hard body slamming into mine, making my hips and ass shake with the force. I moved my body back into his with each thrust, wanting him to stay as deep in me as possible. Soon, I was cumming, his fingers between my legs, his cock buried inside me, causing my body to shiver and shake as I trembled around him. “Goddamn, you're amazing,” I groaned, one hand reaching behind me to flail at him, to scratch his back, to urge him on. “Harder. Make me really feel it.”
With another low, guttural growl, he forced me forward onto the table, his hand on my lower back, pinning me there. He slammed into me harder, each thrust nearly jarring my teeth together.
I screamed with each one, a keening sort of wail that scraped at the walls of the room, tearing at them with the sonic evidence of my enjoyment.
He slapped my ass then, hard.
I came hard again on his cock, astonishing even me, my eyes squeezed tight, my mouth wide open as I continued to scream in pain-pleasure.
He slapped it again, this time harder.
I pushed back harder onto him, loving the feel of my submission in this moment, the image of a bright red handprint on my alabaster ass filling my mind. And I loved it!
“Like that, slut?” he growled through clenched teeth, his cock shoving in and out of me like a jackhammer. “Like that, Micah? Me slapping your ass hard enough to leave bruises?”
“God, yes,” I moaned, my hips moving, my pussy grinding against him as he fucked me as hard as he could.
He slapped my ass again, this time on the other cheek.
I called out one more time, my whole body seeming to reject my mind, the pleasure from my orgasm so intense it seemed to push my consciousness up and out for a moment. My eyes rolled back; my body shook; and my pussy spasmed around him, as my whole body seemed to shut down from a stimulation overload.
“I'm coming,” I heard him growl, as if from a distance, then he was burying himself inside me as he exploded, filling me to the top.
The next thing I knew, he was pulling his cock from me, and all I had was a sudden feeling of emptiness as my legs wobbled and I almost fell. He caught me quickly, snatching me up into his arms.
“Holy shit,” he said, clearly astonished as he gathered me up and carried me to the bed. “Are you okay?”
I nodded weakly, my body already shaking again from another round of orgasmic quakes, little aftershocks running from my toes to my ears. I trembled as he lay me down on my side of the bed. “That was amazing,” I whispered. “Absolutely amazing.”
He kissed me lightly, as softly as a cloud. I closed my eyes and hummed, smiling and licking my lips when he pulled back.
“I've never had a man do that before,” I said. “I think I almost passed out for a second.”
He smiled, still bent over me with a concerned look on his face. “But you're sure you're okay?”
A euphoria had filled my body, something pure and white and comforting that had settled over my whole being. I nodded, reaching up and stroking his face. “That was so hot,” I whispered.
He laughed and shook his head, kissed me again. “I'm going to take a shower, okay?”
“Sounds good,” I replied, letting my eyes droop closed. “Wake me when you're done so I can get dressed, okay?”
“Sure,” he said, then kissed my forehead again. “Sure thing, babe.”
After that I must have dozed in and out, because I heard the shower running what felt like just seconds after his full, soft lips had brushed my skin.
A moment later, I heard his phone ringing where he'd dropped it on the nightstand. I rolled over, had a big, languid stretch, and, without thinking whether or not I should, grabbed his cell off the little side table and took a look at it. Joseph Tambor? I recognized that name. Daddy did business with him, I thought, paid him money.
He'd happened to come through the Mansion at the same time I was passing through on my way out to a date. I'd never seen Daddy back up from anyone before, or speak so politely to anyone before. At the time, it stood out because, well, I'd never seen the owner of the Mansion so scared of someone. I remember thinking that this man must be the Devil himself if Daddy was going to tuck tail like that.
And now, here he was, calling Ford.
On impulse, I answered the phone and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?” I asked sweetly.
“You ain't pally,” Tambor said on the other line. “Where in the fuck's Ford? You his answering service or some shit, little girl?”
“I beg your pardon?” I replied, my voice carefully masking just how equally pissed and terrified I was.
“Look, is Ford around or not? This is his phone, right?”
“It is. He's in the shower, though.”
He sighed. “Well, you tell him to call me a-fucking-sap, okie doke, little girl? I want my fucking money, and I want it today, or Fat Ted and the rest are coming looking for him.”
“O-Okay,” I stumbled out.
“Good.” He hung up, slamming the phone down so loudly I pulled the ear back from my phone.
“Asshole,” I muttered into the phone, tossing it back onto the nightstand.
So, he owed Joseph Tambor money? And enough that he was coming after him if he didn't have it today? No wonder he was so keen on the idea of trying to rob Daddy Williams!
But, geez, what did that say about Ford? What kind of man was he if he could get wrapped up with this guy and owe him money?
I heard the shower turn off in the bathroom and the curtain pull back after Ford finished up.
There were things he wasn't telling me about his motivations and about who he really was.
I swallowed hard, trying to play it cool as he came out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, little rivulets of water running down that broad chest I'd clung to so many times already.
“Almost set?” he asked, grinning.
And I was about to walk into Daddy's den with him.
Chapter Twelve
Ford
The whole ride out to the Mansion, Micah gave off a weird vibe. Before, she'd been practically cuddled up to my side on the bench seat. Now, she was pressed against the passenger’s side door, staring out the window like she was watching for thunderstorms on the horizon.
Maybe it was because we were headed back, and the time had come for us to put the plan into motion? Or had something else happened? I didn't know, but it was a little disconcerting.
“You okay?” I asked finally as we drew closer.
“Why wouldn't I be? I'm about to try and break my friend out of a brothel with some guy I hardly know, and just a stupid plan to go on. I'm doing great!”
“Woah!” I said, making a face. “Okay. Didn't expect that.”
“Well, you should have! This plan isn't going to work, or something bad's going to happen, and Kessa'll be stuck getting sold, or worse.”
“Look,” I said, my voice doing nothing to disguise how pissed I was. “The plan's not perfect. I admit that. No plan is. But you got a better one? Because that auction is tonight, and we don't have much time to get your friend out.”
“What's to keep you from just turning on me? Keeping the finder's fee you're going to demand and just leaving me there?”
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My mind shut down at the subtle accusation. I'd just met this woman, and I'd thought I was beginning to have feelings for her. I'd thought. That right there, though, was like getting stabbed with an icicle through the heart.
Of course, if she'd made her case just that morning, before I'd beat those two guys in the parking lot of John's Diner, she would have been completely right. But that was then, this was now. Things had changed ever since breakfast. I'd thought, somehow, that I could leave with her and Kessa, make a break for LA, and leave all this shit behind. Leave men like Tambor and Daddy Williams behind, put it all in my past.
That's what I'd hoped, at least. Now . . . now I wasn't so sure. But, you know what? Why did I care what some whore thought of me in the long run? Sure, I'd help them get the money, and I'd go through with the plan. But when we were done, that was it.
“You really think that?” I growled. “Even after everything I've done for you? Putting you up for the night? Fighting off those two guys?”
The look on her face was awful, mirroring how hurt I felt. “I'm . . . I'm sorry, Ford,” she said after a moment.
A pang of guilt stabbed me right next to where Micah's icicle had, puncturing just as deeply and just as painfully.
The conversation ended there, though, as we pulled onto the long drive that led up to the Mansion.
The sun hung in the sky, covering the ground in a bright, beautiful sheen of desert light. Green grass, full trees. This place probably had the water bill of a golf course, what with all the watering it probably needed.
The structure loomed up in front of us we drove closer. An old, Victorian style home that seemed to crouch in the desert like a giant beast, its eyes windows to depravity and lust as it looked down on us. Something about the place just seemed off, like one look at it and you knew there was something hidden and forbidden going on inside its four walls.
And here we were, driving into it.
“You ready?” I asked as we pulled up around the circular drive and parked at the front steps, right in front of the valet.
She took a deep breath and silently nodded. She was nervous, I could tell. Nervous I'd betray her, nervous I'd leave Kessa and her in the dust while I fucked off with my money.
Honestly, she was right to be.
The valet gave my shitty Pontiac a once over before coming bustling over as I rolled down my window.
“Sir?” he asked. “Sir, this is a private residence. I'm going to have to ask you to leave before I call security.”
“Call Daddy out here before you do that,” I said, my voice cold as ice. “I got something he's going to want to see.”
He got a peeved expression on his face and took a step back. “Who I should tell him is here to see him?”
“Ford Taylor. He doesn't know who I am, but he'll want to.”
The valet sneered at my words, but nodded politely. He turned around and headed back inside.
“See?” I asked Micah. “Perfect so far.”
“I don't know, Ford,” she said, her words trailing off in the silent car.
I turned back to the front door in time to see a big bruiser come out onto the front porch, his giant frame filling the doorway. He was dressed almost the same as the two guys I'd beat down earlier in the day, back in the parking lot. “That ain't Daddy, is it?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Guess he doesn't want to pay a finder's fee.”
“Guess not.”
I shook my head and opened the driver’s side door, climbing out of it as the bruiser came my way.
“You Ford?” the man grumbled like a mountain losing its side in a landslide, his eyes searching me up and down as I straightened up.
“Yep. Who the fuck are you?”
“Daddy sent me out here to get whatever it is you're bringing to him. That Micah in there?”
“Yep,” I replied as I looked up at him. He was almost six inches taller than me, and I wasn’t exactly short. This guy could've been a linebacker for the NFL if he'd cared to. “I want to talk to Daddy, though. I want a finder's fee.”
The big man shook his head, laughing. His eyes stayed on me the whole time. “You don't get it, do you? Ain't no finder's fee for his property. They're already his.”
“Then ain't no girl. We'll just leave.”
“Well, that ain't exactly gonna fly, neither.” He balled his hands up into fists at his side, his knuckles crackling loudly. They were so big, they looked like they could double for roasted chickens.
“How about you just go get Daddy Williams out here and save yourself an ass beating? It's been a long day, and I'm tired.”
He chuckled, then swung.
I was ready for him, though. I'd been watching his shoulders from the moment he got within striking distance, and he telegraphed his punches so loud and clear, he might as well have worked for Western Union. I ducked his ungainly but powerful swing and delivered two strikes to his massive belly as I danced around to his side.
The two punches didn't do anything to hurt him, but they did slow him down a little and knocked him off his center. He went to turn and focus back on me, but he was off balance already.
I kicked hard at the back of his leg, stomping with all my force. I didn't want to tear anything, just wanted to show him I was faster than I looked, and more experienced than he'd ever be.
The bruiser grunted as he went down on the knee I'd kicked, his arms going out in front to keep him steady. He started to try and get up, but with his back turned to me like that, I had a few moments of free rein.
I locked my fists together and swung hard at the side of his head, pounding him in the ear.
He bellowed as he toppled to the side, his other leg not being enough to stabilize him before he went down like a bag of rocks, hand pressed to his throbbing ear.
“You wanna get Daddy now?” I asked, my voice not even sounding remotely out of breath.
“Whoo, boy! No need!” a big, bellowing yokel-sounding voice came from behind me. “Look at that! You took him down like it was nothing!”
I swung around to find the voice, my fists raised and ready to go in case there was more security coming. The only thing I saw though, was a big, fat man with a belly the size of Nevada and jowls even a pig would be ashamed of.
“You Daddy?” I asked as the security guard groaned behind me, cussing about his fucking ear.
“I am, I am. You must be Ford Taylor,” he said, coming down the steps at me, hand out in front of him like an offer.
I looked at his hand and didn't take it. “Got your girl in the car. Thought there might be a finder's fee?”
He laughed and withdrew his hand. “Gotta respect a man what knows what he wants, don't I?”
“Fee?” I asked, letting the question hang in the air.
He shook his head. “No fee.” I frowned and went to shake my head, but he held up his hand. “Wasn't finished. No fee yet.”
Shit! No fucking money for a fee? That meant he was tapped for cash right now! What the fuck had I been thinking about ripping this guy off? Why had I trusted Micah like this? I glanced back at her, still in the car, then back to Daddy. “Yet?”
He grinned. “I got a big party coming up tonight, an auction of sorts for some dates with my girls, and I'll have your money for you after that. Meantime, though, I'd like to offer you a job. How'd you like to work security for me tonight? You handled yourself all right with my biggest guy. Think you can handle a few handsy party guests?”
“Security for whorehouses ain't exactly my thing.”
He stepped in close, his voice lowered. “I know who you are, son, and I know you got a debt with a mutual acquaintance of ours. I'll make sure that finder's fee is big enough to cover you with Joseph, and you make sure I get topnotch security.”
Double shit. I nodded with a sigh. “Fine,” I said, glancing back to Micah.
The look on her face was one of absolute horror and betrayal.
“You got me for tonight. But,
that's it.”
Chapter Thirteen
Micah
There I was, sitting on a decorative, floral printed couch in the small parlor off from the main hall. The big bruiser who Ford had taken down in two seconds, Sam, I think his name was, just stood there, rubbing his ear and glaring. I didn't know what was supposed to happen to me. All I knew was that I had to get Kessa out of here.
The moment we set foot back in the Mansion, everything seemed to change. Ford hardly glanced at me, and Daddy just ordered me to this side room while he and Ford discussed his job for the evening. Neither of us went anywhere near the office with the safe, because there was no finder’s fee to pay him with.