River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations Page 2

  “Okay. So, what can I do?” I slid to the edge of my seat, ready to do what was needed to get my brother out of the mess he made.

  Daddy shook his head and leaned forward with his elbows on his desk, his fingers steepled in front of his face. “No, Jordana. You are to do nothing. I didn’t ask you here to bring you into the fold. I only needed to tell you that this is serious and possibly dangerous. I need you to go to the shore house for the week. Just until I’ve gotten it figured out.”

  I could feel my eyebrows pinch together and my spine straighten. I could only imagine what I looked like to him. Angry? Defiant? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. His fist came down hard on the solid wood of his desk and the dark skin on his face lit up red like a burning flame.

  “Do not argue with me, Jordana Maria Albanese.” The full name. That meant business.

  “Fine, Daddy. Whatever you think is best.” Women were highly underestimated. Especially in the kind of life we come from. We were Daddy’s girls. We batted our eyelashes and gave puppy eyes and angelic smiles. We called our fathers “Daddy” and they viewed at us as innocent. With the right words, the right look, and a perfectly sweet tone, we got our way. It was something we learned very early on, usually before we walked. Men never caught on. Yet they’re the brains.

  “You should go pack now. You need to leave in two hours.”

  I had no intention of going to the shore house. Even as I agreed with him, I had my own plans. My own ways of saving this family. They can have their feet and brains and soul. I don’t need them. I am a woman, and I have the one thing men never will—I have my pussy. And if there’s one thing men love to eat more than spaghetti, it’s pussy.

  Go ahead, Daddy, use your manly body parts to get Matty out of this one.

  I’ll use mine. And we’ll see who ends up the winner.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The central members’ only hangout was above the A&S pork store and meat market—a local Italian butcher shop. The sign displayed “social club.” However, if you weren’t a member of the Giannottis’ crew, you were not welcomed. Duplicity at its finest. A heavy presence of gangsters mulled around the doorway, making it impossible for the average person to purchase any provisions at the adjacent pork store. Of course, if you were Italian, entrance to the butcher was much easier. However, most people just avoided it, not wanting to drag their children in for a piece of bologna. I smiled. Fond memories of my handholding Nana bringing me into the pork store flooded me. That slice of bologna or Genoa salami was such a treat. My world seemed simpler then. Untainted from the ugliness I had yet to discover about the world around me. I hung a U-turn and double-parked right in front to piss them off. Fuck it. I needed to make a statement. A formidable one.

  I had one chance.

  And one chance only.

  I swung my legs out slowly and closed the door with a bang, leaving the keys in the ignition. No one would dare steal my car. That wasn’t an option. Not in this neighborhood. I shook out my hair and adjusted my sunglasses as I walked confidently to the group of the wise guys loitering about on the sidewalk.

  One by one, each man stepped forward, sadistically eager to shame me. Shame—an achingly familiar emotion to me now. I focused on the prize…goal. Two things happened in rapt succession: empowerment flooded my system due to the contemplation of forced humiliation, and then heated desire burned and singed my most sensitive parts. Well-hidden knowledge of my voyeuristic proclivities and the effect of forced degradation left me with a pair of soaked panties. I writhed under the glare of others, loving every second of it. I smirked in the face of my handlers. Their cheap suits and dollar-bathroom cologne had my eyes rolling—hard. Stopping short of showing how to really humiliate someone, I decided I’d roll through again and have some fun with the fuck-nuts at a later date. I filed that shit away with the others on my to-do list. Surely, I’d have the last laugh. Ah, the power of a woman. The thought had me laughing inwardly. Little did these fuckers know, they were dealing with a kaleidoscope of raw, sadistic need. Hell, I put the “S” in sadism. And when I plan to bring it, you better back the fuck up!

  “We done here?” I said, feigned disinterest dripping from my tongue.

  The wiry one with a chipped tooth stepped forward. “Hardly.” His smile was sardonic.

  I rolled my eyes, but not before slowly lifting my black pencil skirt...to stick my middle finger deep into my core, taking one quick swirl and hitting the bundle of nerves that begged to be relieved. My sigh rent the air. They adjusted their obvious hardons in succession. Withdrawing my finger, I sucked it with a pop...essentially flipping them off. A myriad of emotions played on their faces—anger, gall, and dare I say…awe?

  With my work here done, I casually say, “I’ll see the boss now.” I gently slapped chipped tooth’s face while the other two looked on. He didn’t move, just blinked. “Oh, that was a directive. Not a question, love,” I corrected, walking past him into the building. Incompetence, I shuddered to myself.

  Game on…

  I was shocked to see that the place hadn’t been updated from the seventies’ wood paneling. Probably still talking about the Lufthansa heist, I thought, rolling my eyes. Guinea’s! Ugh. A few old wise guys drinking espresso gaped at me as I took the stairs. I pushed my sunglasses above my head and threw a wink their way. That’s right, you fuckers, the enemy is in the house.

  A long flight of stairs was another daunting task. My skirt—a second skin—wasn’t very practical for these steps. With my hand on the banister, I slowly, but confidently, made my way up. Upon reaching the top step, I heard a harsh voice yelling in Italian beyond the door in front of me. My heart thumped steadily against my ribcage like a drum, creating the soundtrack of my sudden nerves.

  I blew out a long breath. Should I knock? Nah.

  I strutted confidently into the office, immediately noticing the modern theme it was decorated in. A tall, dark, suited man stood with his back to me, arguing over the phone in Italian. I let the door slam behind me and stood beside it, waiting for his attention to be drawn my way. The face that met mine wasn’t the one I had expected. I expected Stefan’s father. However, the man in front of me had a scar that ran from the outside of his left brow to the corner of his lip—Zeke, the infamous underboss.

  His lip curled into a cruel snarl of a smile as he hung up the phone. “Well. Well. Well,” he said, tsking.

  Every nerve in my body recoiled, but my face remained stoic. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making me afraid. It quickly became apparent that everything about this man’s demeanor screamed coldness, aloofness, and self-absorption.

  My chin jutted forward as I threw my bag on the chair in front of his desk. With my spine straight and my shoulders squared, I said, “I’m sure you know why I’m here. So, drop the sneer and let’s get to it.”

  His brow raised and his smiled widened in calculation. “This sneer?” He leaned forward, arms bracing on his desk.

  “Yeah, that one.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes in disgust. He was one ugly, hard-looking fuck. “I’m here to barter,” I said, finally taking a seat and throwing one leg over the other to punctuate my intent.

  “Oh, really.” He stood up, folding his arms, gazing at me with dark, cold eyes. “And what makes you think you have anything to barter?”

  “Pfft, let’s not play me for a fool. I happen to know you have singular tastes.” I shrugged, turning to plan B. This hadn’t been my original negotiating ploy, since I had thought I’d be dealing with Stefan’s father. But this actually worked out better in my favor. Sick bastards like the one in front of me were easily played, and I am a fantastic player. “I may be able to fulfill one or two of those…tastes.”

  Everyone knew he was a sadistic prick of a lover. I didn’t relish the thought of laying myself bare for Scarface—however, in the interest of my brother and family, I’d do anything to put this to bed.

  He walked around the desk to his humidor, reaching for a cigar.
“‘Singular tastes’ is putting it mildly, little-girl.” He twirled the cigar in his meaty fingers. The need to humiliate me came off him like stink of a skunk. His perception of my one weakness…my brother. I hated being in this position—exploited. “And what exactly are you searching for out of this…barter?”

  “I want my brother’s debt to be erased.”

  He laughed. It was loud and covered my skin, crawling on my flesh like the cockroach he was. “Matteo has wracked up quite a debt. Half a million. I don’t even pay the professionals that kind of money to make me cum. What makes you think you’re worth that much?”

  I smiled and waited for his cackles to end, knowing I had his attention. “The moment my pussy is wrapped around your cock, you’ll forget what a dollar sign looks like. The moment your balls pull tight with the need to cum, you’ll have forgotten how to count. And the moment my pussy milks you, taking every last drop, you won’t even know what money is anymore. You will no longer remember the scent of a Benjamin…because the only thing you’ll crave is the scent of me.”

  That got his attention. The corners of his mouth curved up as he slowly licked his lips, eyes directed at the covered apex of my thighs.

  “Before I consider your ‘barter,’ as you call it, I want you to hike that skirt up…sit on my desk…spread those legs, and make yourself cum with this.” His eyes narrowed into a salacious smirk that grew into a full stomach-churning smile. His yellowed teeth reminded me of urinal slime. My stomach lurched forward.

  I sucked in the tiniest of breaths, closing my eyes before grabbing the cigar. In one fell-swoop, I threw the items off his desk in defiance. He laughed. I wanted to fucking scream. Shrugging my skirt up to my thighs, I inched my ass across his desk. Opening my legs wide, I carefully balanced myself on the heels of my pumps.

  He snatched a chair and sat between my legs, his pants already tented. He began to unzip, the familiar sound echoing around me and dancing on my frayed nerves. This is for your brother, Jordana. I took a deep breath, and on the exhale, pushed in the cigar. My pussy gave way, and for a moment, I was able to pretend it was Stefan’s cock sinking into me.

  “Eyes on me, little one.” His voice came out thick and commanding. I had no idea my eyes were closed. And now, I’d be fucked having Scarface as a visual.

  The pain of the thick cigar awakened the anger inside and it fed me. As I fed the cigar deep inside my pussy, I began to melt into it. In and out I went, matching his hand strokes. Now, the cigar moistened to new levels. I knew I was close. The mixture of the humiliation, danger, and voyeurism turned me on. Despite my fury, my legs began to shake and the urge to buck hit me hard. I needed more. Faster and deeper I drove, angling the cigar’s abrasive skin against my clit as I pumped. Copper filled my mouth until I released my lip. My cries of ecstasy were no longer silenced as I came not once, but twice all over his desk. He stood, pumping the last of his orgasm across both of my thighs. My mind went into turmoil…the deep sensations were too much. I was livid that I actually got off so hard.

  I pushed myself up and off of the desk, straightening my skirt. His pants were still unzipped, and he held his softened cock in his hand. I leaned over and asked, “Deal?”

  He smirked as he leaned in for a kiss.

  I stopped him with my hand hard on his chest. “No kissing—ever.”

  “Fine with me, kitty.” He stood and pushed his cock back into his pants.

  “My name’s Jordana, and I’m not your kitty.” I grabbed my bag.

  He laughed, smelling the cigar before putting it in his suit jacket. “Oh, Jordana. You’re mine this week. At my beck and call. You will stay at my fuck house. You will not leave until our time has ended, and you will be ready for me at all times. Oh, and you’re not to wash that cunt before seeing me again. One hour. I expect you at this address.”

  I take the offered paper and suppress an internal groan.

  “Oh, and kitty…the Giannottis own the entire condo. If your game is to do more than be my fuck for the week, I highly suggest you think again,” he threatened.

  I rolled my eyes, but not before red shamed my face. The door slammed behind me, and I could hear his repulsive laugh all the way down the steps.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  When, it feels scary to jump…that’s when you jump. Otherwise, you stay in the same spot your whole life. And that I can’t do. ~Jordana

  Disappearing for a week. No contact. My finger hovered over the send button for a solid two minutes before finally pressing it. I knew it would elicit a response from him. My message had been deliberate…purposely leaving out the respect he demands.

  Within a minute, the cell buzzed in my hand, alerting me of a new message: You better have sent that to me by mistake. The anger in Stefan’s words rang loud through the screen. I knew he wouldn’t have liked my message, but I had my reasons. He’d have a week to stew. A week to let his anger boil. And then when I’d “come back,” he’d release all of his pent up aggressions on me…and I’ll love every fucking second of it.

  I didn’t respond to him, debating on what to pack instead. I knew I had to pack something; otherwise, my father would have questions. However, I wouldn’t need clothes where I planned to go. Scarface wouldn’t allow me them. He never said it, but I knew better. Naked. All the time. Waiting. I wasn’t new to this game.

  Randomly throwing clothes into the bag, not giving a shit what I grabbed, my phone sounds again. Jordana. I’m busy right now and don’t have time for your games. I expect a response.

  Hmmm…I hadn’t imagined his anger would spike that fast.

  Have to leave for a week. Protection. Won’t be able to communicate. Again…I took my chances with my response. My hands shook, waiting for a response.

  And then my phone rang in my hand. He didn’t waste any time.

  “Jordana,” he gritted out through the phone before I could even properly answer.

  “Sir.”

  He sighed through the phone and I felt it throughout my entire body before it swarmed my tight bundle of nerves between my legs. I swear, it was as though his breath landed on that spot. “That’s better,” he finally said. “Now, where are you going and why?”

  “My family’s safe house.” The answer reluctantly came out. I didn’t like to lie to Stefan, but I knew I had to. “Daddy wants me there until this mess with Matty is sorted out.”

  “Not necessary. Nothing will happen to you, regardless of your brother’s poor monetary decisions.”

  That surprised me. I knew how he felt about me in bed…or on a cross or the table…but it’s always been unclear of his intentions with me outside of our time together. Hearing of his own personal protection sent another emotion coursing through me. Although, that emotion was foreign and unclear.

  “Sir, it’s what my father has asked of me. And I must do it. I hope you can respect the need to obey my family.” I wanted to press him, to taunt him, but I couldn’t find it within me to do so.

  “And what are your plans if your family can’t make this right?”

  “That’s not an option. We will.” Or more importantly…I will.

  “One week. And you’ll be back whether the debt is paid or not.” It was not a question.

  My screen flashed in front of me. He had ended the call.

  One week. That’s all it would be, and then I would be back with my Master. My Sir. My Dom. Stefan. That’s all I had to focus on to get me through this. I could do it, I knew I could. And then I’d have the satisfaction of doing what no man could. I’d clear my brother’s debt without paying a single penny, and without bloodshed. Well, I’m sure some blood would be shed…in the most delicious way possible.

  A knock sounded at my door, pulling me from my thoughts. I cleared the devious smile from my face and answered, “Come in.”

  The door opened and in walked my father. The man I always remembered being large, strong, powerful with his dark hair slicked back and squared posture, had begun to show signs of his aging. Of his we
ar and tear. Of the years in the life we lived. His shoulders hunched forward slightly, showing his fear, and his eyes that were always so hard and stern were soft and worried. Lines stretched out on his caramel-colored face, indicating that his age had not stopped, but continued to move forward with the rest of us. This had been the first time I really noticed that my father was not invincible. My sacrifice was not only for my brother, but for my father as well.

  “What is it, Daddy?” I asked, sounding sincere and innocent-like, exactly how he viewed me.

  “I was just checking on you. Seeing if there was anything you needed before leaving. And to say goodbye. I didn’t want you to leave without saying goodbye.”

  I zipped up my bag and walked to him. With a kiss on his cheek, I said, “No, Daddy, I wouldn’t leave without saying bye.” I squeezed my arms around his thick neck and then pulled away, looking him right in the eye—eyes that mirrored mine. “It’s only for a week. And I’ll be fine. Nothing will happen to me at the shore house. And don’t worry too much about Matty. He’ll be fine as well. I feel confident that his debt will be paid. Just keep him out of trouble and we’ll be fine.”

  His lips pressed together in a tight line as he attempted to force a smile. “The driver is out front waiting for you. I don’t want your car there. I don’t want anyone knowing where you’re at. He’ll drop you off and then you’ll lock yourself inside until further notice from me.”

  More demands by more men. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was tired of hearing the men in my life tell me what I had to do, but it would make my victory that much sweeter. I smiled and nodded, giving him one last kiss on the cheek before grabbing my bag and heading out.

  This was it.

  This was the interlude into my greatest act yet.

  I climbed into the waiting car and sat back, preparing myself for what would come next. Steeling myself for the sacrifices I’d make. And before I knew it, a smile had stretched long and wide on my face.