Dirty Business (2 page)

Some unspoken communication passed between Donnell and his boys.

Joe pretended not to notice.

“You ready?” Donnell asked Veronica. He put his fingertips on the table and leaned forward as if he were about to rise.

Veronica was ready. More than ready. Ignored, head spinning from the drugs, her body revving with sexual tension, she practically leapt from her chair and then stood by the table grinning. But Donnell had not risen. Instead he let his weight fall back into his seat, and continued to smile at Veronica, his warm eyes glittering.

The boy wearing the hat silently crossed the room. Standing behind Veronica, he slipped his arms around her waist and let his hand come to rest in the V between her legs. Veronica reacted quickly, stomping her heel into his foot and then spinning out of his grasp.

“
Motherfucker
,” she hissed. Veronica sailed her fist around, leaping forward to put her full body weight into the punch. The boy’s head snapped back.

Joe was impressed. She stood there—all one hundred and ten pounds of her—with her fists up. But the other boy had already slipped in behind her and put his arms around her waist. He drew her towards himself, even as she began to writhe.

“Donnell!” Veronica raised her voice.

Her face flush with fury, she whipped her head toward the end of the table where Donnell sat. For a beat, no one said anything. The boy held Veronica aloft, her feet an inch or two from the floor, her hair splayed in her eyes.

And then Donnell tilted his head to the side. “
Anything
,” he said.

“Oh,
come on
,” Veronica said.

Joe heard a tinge of panic in her voice. Setting his jaw, he silently willed her to surrender. To accept her circumstances. If she continued to fight, there would be trouble. Someone could get hurt. Someone
would
get hurt.

The boy lowered Veronica to the floor and began to massage her breasts, his nose buried in her shiny dark hair. Veronica stood silently, her back stiff.

“Help out my friends,” Donnell said. His tone was friendly, but clearly he was offering a command.

Veronica remained mute, letting the boy enjoy her body.

“I like to watch.” Donnell chuckled. He said this with almost an apologetic tone. He shrugged, smiled. Cutter snorted. Shook his head. He had continued to work on the powder through all the excitement, but Joe felt certain that Cutter and Donnell were the ones to watch if things escalated.

Veronica looked at the pile of powder on the table, now diminished in size. She looked at Donnell, who sat back from the table, his hands in his lap, his eyes still warm. That same half smile still playing upon his lips. She swallowed hard. The boy’s hands eagerly roamed her body. Searching the room, her eyes fell on Joe, who now readily met her gaze. Joe didn’t smile, but he tried not to look too grave either. He could see the terror in her eyes as she assessed her situation. Both lieutenants would fuck her. That much was a given.

Joe locked eyes with Veronica.

He knew he needed to be discreet. Raising one of his brows, he titled his head toward the boy she had struck. Opening his eyes wide, Joe tried to nudge Veronica into action. Get her moving in a productive direction. She was an attractive girl and that would work to her disadvantage tonight. The big guy cutting the dope would certainly want a turn with her. Joe knew that Donnell had a girlfriend, but that didn’t matter with something like this: He’d probably go last, do something humiliating. Maybe fuck her in the ass. Maybe piss on her.

Joe pursed his lips. He glanced at the boy rubbing his chin, then returned his gaze to Veronica. The important thing was to get the sex started. That was the best way to avoid any real violence. She’d wake up tomorrow a little sore, filled with semen from a few different boys, but she’d be home. Unhurt.

Veronica looked at the boy she’d struck: he was working his jaw and looking openly hostile, clearly the biggest threat in the room. When she looked back toward Joe, he nodded his head once. Really it was just a slight dip of his chin.

Veronica seemed to understand. Her eyes no longer bulged with fear, but now settled into a sort of wide eyed acceptance. She closed her mouth. Licked her lips.

“
Anything
,” the olive skinned boy whispered, nuzzling his face towards Veronica’s ear.

He pressed his hips against her bottom and slipped his hand between her legs. Veronica allowed it. She had to. Striking the other boy had been pure instinct: Good girls didn’t allow themselves to be fondled by random boys. But now her circumstances had changed, and she had to accept this boy touching her as the rest of the room watched. Her nipples betrayed her first, hardening under his insistent touch. Then the color rose up in her face and her breathing grew heavier. Her lids soon hooded over her eyes, and she found herself gently moving her hips, riding the hand that was between her legs. No longer could Veronica count herself in the ranks of the good girls. Tonight Veronica was a whore.

The boy she’d struck stopped rubbing his chin. Scowling at Veronica, he straightened his hat, then blew air heavily from his mouth.

Without looking back at Joe, Veronica reached for the hand of the boy massaging her sex, letting her own hand rest atop his. She tilted her head to look at him over her shoulder and smiled, pressing her bottom into his groin.

She turned to face him. His mouth was open. He smiled.

Reaching between his legs, Veronica let her fingers tickle over the hard bulge in his pants. With her hand on his cock, she looked up at him and grinned. Whether pleased by the sudden power that comes from playing the whore, or by the warm bulge she now cupped in her hand, Joe couldn’t say for sure.

“She ready,” The lieutenant with the olive skin said. His voice was low, conversational. He kept his eyes on Veronica, but he was plainly speaking to the entire room.

Veronica moved toward the other lieutenant. Stretching her arm, she allowed her fingertips to continue touching the cock in her hand for as long as she could. At the last moment, she broke contact and turned her full attention to the next boy.

Veronica placed her hands flat on his strong chest, pressed her body against his, and then sank to her knees at his feet, letting her fingertips travel down along his body. Pressing her cheek against his groin, Veronica shamelessly nuzzled her face against the front of his pants.

Looking up at him, Veronica begged: “I’m so sorry,” she said. “
Please, please
,” she whispered. “
Don’t hurt me
.”

The boy glared down at her with his hands on his hips.

Veronica looked unsure what to do next. Glancing quickly around the room, she looked concerned. Clearly she’d expected her pleas to win more from the boy.

She caught Joe’s eye. He pressed his lips together.
Improvise.

Turning back to the boy, Veronica opened her mouth as if she were about to plead some more. And then she caught herself. She sighed and squared her shoulders. Raising her hands to his pants, she silently began to unfasten his belt.

A chuckle went up from the room. The boy’s frown broke, replaced by a wide, mirthless grin, his gold cap gleaming in his mouth.

She quickly unfastened his pants. Lowered his fly.

Veronica was about to tug down the waist band of his boxer shorts, when the boy brushed her hands away. He put the heel of his hand on her forehead. Tilting her head back, he grinned down at her mercilessly.

“Imma let you make it up,” he said. “I got something else in mind for you.”

Veronica smiled. Lowered her head.

Taking her head in his hands, the boy pressed her face against his groin. He stroked her hair, as if she were an expensive pet. Veronica glanced at Joe. She looked relieved but apprehensive. The boy ground his hips against her face, and she willingly nuzzled her cheek against him, but her expression didn’t change.

“She ready,” the boy announced to the room.

Donnell and his crew laughed. Joe realized he had been holding his breath. He exhaled. Relaxed. Reminded himself that he didn’t have an investment in the girl. Any of this. His commitment was to the deal. His commission.

Joe forced himself to grin. He sat back in his chair.

Listening to the other boy’s laughter, Joe found himself growing irritable. Agitated. He couldn’t sit still. He had to remind himself to keep the smile on his face. Try not to look too imposing. He fidgeted in his seat.

Who was he kidding?

This was a local girl,
a Carnal girl
. His friend’s own daughter. He’d have to babysit her tonight. Make sure she came out of this thing whole. He owed that much to Maynor, her father, his own good friend and partner.

Probably take until dawn. Maybe even a little longer. Molly would be pissed.

The boys moved Veronica to an adjoining room. Joe watched the three of them in the reflection of a mirror on the opposite wall. A mattress was laid out in the middle of the room. Veronica looked toward Joe, but he avoided her eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, Joe watched her turn away. She’d have to rely on her own abilities to get through the night.

Already nude, the olive skinned boy had a slim, muscled body that was striking because he kept it completely hairless, even between his legs. If there had been any negotiations over who would go first, Joe had missed them.

The other boy took a seat on the couch and splayed his legs wide, his hat pushed back on his head. He would watch.

Veronica seemed to be growing more comfortable with her situation. She kicked off her left shoe, then her right. She gazed at the boy’s hard penis. He had some sort of piercing in his cock and, like any boy with an uncomfortable looking piece of jewelry sticking out of his penis, seemed eager to show it off. Veronica slowly removed her clothes, neatly folding each article, making a little pile next to the makeshift bed.

Bobby socks. Top. Tights.

Joe felt his cock swell in his pants. Veronica stood in her bra and panties: flat tummy, slender waist, creamy skin.

Joe remembered first meeting Veronica at her father’s lakeside house. She’d worn a black string bikini and had spent the late morning on a blanket in the sun. A small troop of boyfriends took turns smearing tanning oil on her slender, sun-browned body. Her thighs and tummy glistened. Her father had invited half-a-dozen men from the club over for a cookout. Joe hadn’t realized the cookout was also Veronica’s birthday party. He watched her all afternoon, then felt guilty when the cake finally appeared holding only fourteen flickering candles.
Fourteen?

Even at that age, she was a little tart: Delivering long neck brown bottles in the hot afternoon sun to all the men, sidling up close for sips of beer. She had a little game she liked to play, where she would deliver a beer, stand close by as the man who opened it, then grab the sweaty bottle back by its long neck. If the man surrendered the bottle, she would take a quick, furtive nip and then wipe the foam from her mouth with the back of her hand. If the man resisted—say he held the bottle high, just out of reach—then the game became more interesting. She would lean her sun-kissed body in even closer, maybe placing her hand on the man’s tummy, or pressing her tiny breast against his bicep. She might wordlessly pout, “Please,” or knock her groin against the man’s thigh.

Joe and the other men would laugh good-naturedly, even goad her on, but each man knew it was a fairly risky game, for her father watched it like a hawk. Woe to the man who came away from one of these little battles-of-will with a hard on swelling in his pants.

Veronica pulled her sports bra over her head and her breasts spilled out. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, then slipped them down her thighs. She had a shapely ass. Slim waist, long legs.

Donnell stopped working. Sat back in his chair. “Hey, girl,” he said.

Veronica turned to Donnell, one arm across her breasts, another hand shyly covering her sex. If she felt any lingering resentment over her situation, she didn’t let it show. She kept her face open, questioning. Raised her brow. Looked eager to please.

Donnell openly appraised her.

Veronica stood silently for a moment, a puzzled look on her face. When she finally grasped that he simply wanted a better look at her body, she smiled shyly. Her face flushed. Lowering her head, she held both her arms out, presenting herself. Her skin was flush and pink, her nipples hard brown nubs. The fur between her legs was dark, wispy and sparse, like the first shock of hair that appears on a newborn’s head.