Mob Mistress (2 page)

When she entered the club, she scanned the workers behind the bar for Gina. Spotting her where she stood serving drinks, Lexi made a beeline over and perched on the footrest to lean her body across the bar and give her a quick peck on the cheek. “I got evicted,” she said in a low voice.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Well, you can definitely crash on my couch. Do you want the key?”

“Mm... maybe after I’ve had a drink or two.”

Gina smiled. “Of course. What are you drinking?”

“I don’t know. Surprise me.”

Gina made her a mojito and turned her attention to the barback bussing dishes. “Cover for me for a while, Dan?”

When he nodded, she took off her short apron and walked out from behind the bar. It never ceased to amaze Lexi that Gina could stand all night on her feet in three-inch heels, but as usual, she was rocking them with a short skirt. She lifted her chin in the direction of the tables. “Come with me.”

Two distinguished men sat on plush chairs drinking what appeared to be whiskey on the rocks. Gina led them straight to their table. “May we join you?”

She stiffened, understanding too late Gina’s design. The men were well dressed and looked Italian. This must be the mafia guy with whom Gina wanted to set her up.

Both men stood, showing perfect manners. “Of course,” the taller one said.

“Lexi, this is Bobby Manghini and I’m sorry, I haven’t met you yet,” Gina said, turning her attention to the other man.

“Dean,” he said, shaking Gina’s hand.

“Hi, Bobby,” Lexi said, offering her hand and trying not to be impressed by his good looks. He stood six feet tall, with broad shoulders perfectly draped in an Armani suit. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, with a strong jaw and aquiline nose. Dark eyes with lashes that curled.

“Pleasure to meet you. What are you drinking?”

“You finished that already?” Gina asked. “I’ll go get another one.”

“No, no,” Bobby said, holding up his hand. “You sit. I’ll get the drink. What will you have, Lexi?”

She licked her lips, trying to steel herself against the take-charge masculine charisma Bobby oozed. “A mojito.”

He gave her a wink. “Be right back.”

Oh dear Lord. Gina had been right about him — he was hot.

When he returned, he took the seat beside her, causing her temperature to rise by at least two degrees.

“So what are you ladies up to?”

“Well, Lexi is my hair stylist, in addition to being a good friend. And I was telling her about you last week. I thought you might like each other.”

Her belly tightened.

Way to lay it right out there, girl.

Gina wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

“So you do hair?”

She nodded, trying not to shrink under his intense scrutiny.

“No wonder you look so good.”

She rolled her eyes, letting him know she wasn’t falling for his sweet talk.

“Lexi just gave me this cut and color,” Gina said, tossing her head. “She did it for her portfolio.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely interested. “Oh yeah? What’s the portfolio for?”

She shrugged. “I’m applying for this training job. It’s posted nationally, so I probably don’t have much of a chance, but it’s worth a shot.”

He nodded. “Well, if all the styles in your portfolio look as good as Gina’s, I would say you have a good chance. Not that I’m an expert on women’s hair,” he said with a devastating grin. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the dark lashes making the brown liquid pools look warm and inviting. “So, what did Gina tell you about me?”

“I told her you’d make a good sugar daddy,” Gina said with a smirk.

She felt her cheeks grow warm. Good God, now he would think she was a money-grubbing, desperate floozy.

The statement only seemed to interest Bobby, though. He turned his attention to her. “Is that so?”

She opened her lips to deny it, but found herself caught in his heated gaze, the appreciative assessment obvious. Forcing herself to exhale, she said, “No, she was only kidding.”

Bobby reached over and grasped the seat of her chair, pulling it forward until her knees came between his.

She gasped at the sudden movement and gave a nervous giggle. “What are you —?”

He made a show of looking her up and down. “Yes, I would definitely say you are sugar baby material.”

Dean and Gina laughed, egging him on.

She looked skyward again. “I feel like a horse at auction. Look, I never said —”

Bobby grinned and took hold of her jaw. “Right! Let’s see those teeth, little pony,” he said, pulling her face toward him. Instead of looking in her mouth, he lowered his face, sweeping his lips lightly across hers. Softer than she expected, they tasted faintly of whiskey. Though she ought to be turned off by being so manhandled, the moment he pulled away, she missed his touch, wanting more.

Her heart rate quickened. Was this actually happening?

Bobby grinned and sat back, releasing her from his scrutiny.

Recovered from her fluster, she gave herself a quick pep talk. What did she have to lose, really? A sugar daddy would solve all her problems, if this was for real. She gave him a seductive look. “Are you in the market for a sugar baby?”

He threw his head back and laughed, a deep, rich rumbling sound that for no known reason made her tingle. “As a matter of fact, I am. But when I take a goomah, I expect her to be at my beck and call, available any time I please.”

She swallowed, her panties dampening at the idea of being his sexual servant. “And what exactly would you offer in return?”

Bobby placed both his hands on her thighs and made little circles around her knees. “Living expenses and spending cash. How does that sound?”

Gina and Dean made enthusiastic murmurings as their eyes locked. Heat pooled in her center core, traveling up until her face grew warm. Her breath rose and fell in a rapid rhythm.

He leaned closer and spoke in a low, rumbling voice, “But you should know, I would use you however I wanted, whenever I wanted. And I would demand fidelity. No other men.”

“What about women?” she asked.

“Only if I get to watch.”

* * * * *

He leaned back and allowed the tension to ease as everyone chuckled.

Judging by the way Lexi’s nipples protruded beneath her blouse, she was not put off by his dominance. He definitely wanted her. Smoking hot, she offered the full package — sass and intelligence in addition to the long legs and perky tits. She had sleek brown hair with glints of gold and mahogany, cut in the latest style so it fell in layers around her face. High cheekbones and big blue eyes gave her an exotic beauty.

She smiled at him, looking relieved he had taken the pressure off. It warmed him, fueling a desire to earn more of her grateful smiles.

“What do you think, Lexi? Are you interested in that sort of arrangement?” he asked.

“Well, in theory, yes, but only if I really liked the guy.”

“So it’s about the sex.”

“I didn’t say
sex
—”

“You meant sex,” he said with a wicked grin. “How about this? I’ll offer you a personal guarantee you’ll get off every single time.”

She laughed, a throaty, sensual sound that went straight to his cock. “Oh really? I guess you don’t lack in confidence, do you?”

“Nope,” he said, deliberately holding her eyes. The room had shrunk so it contained only the two of them, her azure gaze searching him, pupils dilated, breath short.

“What if I’m one of those girls who never orgasms with a partner?”

He raked a glance down her body again, wondering how anyone that fine could have trouble getting off. “I’d figure out how to unlock your secrets.”

Her berry-glossed lips parted.

“How about this, Lex — give me one night,” he coaxed. “Test our chemistry.”

She swallowed. He could sense that enough of her wanted to say yes. He stood and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. Picking up her purse, he handed it to her as he wrapped an arm behind her waist to escort her out.

She hesitated, looking over her shoulder at her friend, who gave her a thumbs up.

By the time he got her to his Mercedes, she seemed skittish, hesitating when he held the door for her, looking back up the street.

“You’re safe with me,” he murmured.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Look, maybe —”

He circled an arm around her waist and pulled her body against his. “Are you chickening out?” he asked.

She did not stiffen in his arms, but simply blinked up at him. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll tell you what. How about we drive your car? That way, you’re in control of when you leave.”

She looked down the street. “I don’t actually have a car right now,” she said, but she had relaxed at the offer, as if he had allayed her worst fear of his being a psycho killer or rapist. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“The Trump International Hotel. Have you ever been there? You’ll like it.”

Her eyebrows raised and he knew he had impressed her.

“Don’t worry. If you tell me to back off at any point, I will. I come on strong and I play a little rough but I know how to treat a lady.”

Her eyes darted to his, as if trying to decipher what he meant by
playing rough
. He bent to kiss her, wanting to taste her full raspberry lips. She let him, kissing back a little, but remaining cautious.

“Come on,” he said, leading her to his car. He held the door for her and helped her in. He climbed in on his side and started up the car. When he dived out into traffic, she white-knuckled the dashboard. “Relax. I’m not going to crash the car. I may drive aggressively, but I always know what I’m doing.”

She gave a nervous laugh and eased her hands away from the dash. “Sorry. It’s not your driving. I just get nervous these days. This city has some crazy drivers.”

“Where are you from originally?”

“Kansas.”

“How did you end up in the Windy City?”

“I followed my first serious boyfriend out here. I was nineteen, just out of beauty school, and he fancied himself a comedian. He wanted to perform with Second City.”

“Did he?”

“Nope.”

“How long did he last here?”

She grinned. “Two and a half years. That’s one year longer than we lasted as a couple.”

“But you stayed. You like it here?”

“I love Chicago. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

“Me neither.”

“Were you born here?”

“Yeah. First generation American.”

“Your parents were from Sicily?”

“Yep.”

“Are they still around? I’m sorry — do you mind my asking personal questions?”

“I don’t mind this question. Some I might,” he said, softening the words with quirked lips. “Both my parents are dead but I have a ton of extended family.”

“I’ll bet,” she muttered.

He gave her a raised eyebrow. “Don’t get sassy.”

She looked surprised at the reprimand. “Touchy subject?”

He nodded. “The Family is off-limits for conversation. For your safety and mine,” he said as he pulled into the parking garage for the Trump International Hotel and found a spot.

She shivered at his warning.

“Don’t worry, Lex,” he said, getting out and walking around to open her door.

She climbed out before he reached it.

“You’re safe. It doesn’t concern you and it won’t ever concern you. That’s the point of keeping it off-limits.
Capisce
?”

She nodded, but he had a feeling he had lost her. She looked wary now, and partway shut down. Taking her hand, he led her to the lobby and asked for a luxury suite. The clerk gave him the keycard and directed them to the elevator. As soon as the door closed, he nudged her back against the wall, nuzzling and nipping at her neck.

“Still nervous?”

“No.”

“Liar. I can feel you trembling,” he murmured in her ear. “Unless that’s desire?”

She gave him a playful elbow in the ribs and he released her, taking her hand once more. “Come on, you have nothing to be afraid of,” he coaxed as he led her down the hall and unlocked the door.

Chapter Two

She tried not to look too impressed at the gorgeous luxury hotel suite, which was twice as big as the apartment she’d just lost. It had a separate living room complete with a marble fireplace and ten foot floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Michigan. She stood at the window and looked down, awed.

Bobby grasped her nape and pulled her close, kissing the side of her neck. “Have you relaxed any?”

“A little,” she admitted.

He pressed the backs of his fingers over her heart, and it thumped to meet them, betraying her anxiety. “I never do this sort of thing,” she admitted.

“I know,” he murmured, his expression warm and encouraging. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”

“What else do you like?” she asked, unabashed at fishing for compliments, consider how thick he liked to lay it on.

He picked up a section of her hair and ran it over his cheek. “Everything I’ve seen so far,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “I’m going to have a hard time holding back.” He traced her collarbone with the tip of his finger.

“What does that mean?” she whispered.

“Means I can’t wait to get you in the bedroom. Come on.”

She took a deep breath and nodded.

He smiled like a satisfied cat and led her down the hall, his hand in the small of her back like a gentleman.

Once inside, he yanked her body against his, kissing her with an open mouth, lips bruising as his tongue plundered. His hands kneaded her ass. He dragged them upward, the fabric of her dress in his grasp, peeling it from her body in a single sweep.

“Mmm,” he said, taking in her black and hot pink satin bra and matching panties. “I like those.”

Relieved she hadn’t been caught in her cotton Wonder Woman panties with the holes worn at the seams, she flushed under his dark gaze. He slipped a finger under each strap of her bra and peeled the cups down slowly to reveal her breasts.

He drank them in, appreciation evident, then grew impatient again, yanking the bra to her waist and crushing a hand over one of her breasts as his mouth bent to the other. He flicked his tongue over the tip of her nipple, then sucked it deeply into his mouth before releasing it abruptly and nipping with his teeth.