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Marco
God,Marcohatedrunslike these. Brawling, kicking the ass of some punk who thought he could pull one over on the Toscanos? That was what got his motor revving.
But this shit was different. Picking up some poor sap who got in over his head with the Family? Christ, he hated being a babysitter.
Marco pulled the sleek black car away from the curb, the engine purring softly as he merged onto the highway. He glanced over at the kid in the passenger seat.
The kid was young. His dear old dad had said he was twenty one, but he'd frowned and paused when he'd been saying it. It didn't take a psychic to know that the old man was guessing. Shit, Marco wasn't sure that the old man even knew what year it was, spending all his time inside the city's web of underground gambling dens.
Marco steered the car through the streets, but eyed Joey from behind his glasses. Joey senior was a rough piece of shit, but his son was delicate. He had pretty eyelashes—and a prettier mouth. Marco ignored the way his body reacted to the sight of him, and focused on the task at hand.
Joey's eyes were glued to the rear view mirror, watching the coffee shop fall away into the distance. "Start talking," he said, but no matter how gruff he tried to sound, the kid couldn't disguise the unease in his voice. "What's going to happen to me?"
Marco clenched the steering wheel tight, trying to focus on the job and not on the temptation in the seat next to him. "Your father owes the Family a lot of money," Marco explained. "And since he can't pay, you're going to work off dear old Dad's debt for him."
Until that point, anger had been sparkling in Joey's sea-green eyes. Anger at his father, at Marco, or just at the world in general, Marco didn't know. At Marco's reply, though, that anger turned to fear. Joey's already pale face went even more bloodless. "W-what the hell does that mean?"
"It means," Marco replied, running a hand through his slicked-back hair, "that until you work off your Daddy's debt, you're ours."
"How much does he owe? I could just get some extra shifts—"
"Sixty grand."
"Sixty…!" Joey jerked in surprise, staring at Marco. "No way…"
"That's a lot of coffees to make," Marco drawled. He turned the wheel, sending his car purring along the highway.
There was a long moment of silence, and then Joey looked up again. When he spoke, his voice was steady. "I can find a way to get you your money. Just don't hurt us, and I'll find a way to pay it off."
What the hell was with this kid? Anyone else might have raged at their deadbeat dad, or tried to plead that they weren't involved, trying to slip away and save their own skins…
But all that Joey did was bite down on his pretty little lip of his and try to sound brave. There was determination somewhere under that unassuming look.
It was brave.
And stupid. "Yeah, no shit you're going to pay it off. That's the whole reason you're here with me, kid."
Joey clenched his fists, knuckles turning white. Marco could see the emotions that were boiling behind those stunning green eyes. "Are you going to…?"
Joey trailed off, his words choking off. Whatever he was getting at, it had missed Marco entirely. He raised an eyebrow. "To… what, kid?"
"Well, if I can't pay you back in latte art, it doesn't take a genius to realize what a piece of shit like you wants."
It took a moment for Marco to realize what the kid meant. "You think I'm going to fuck your debt away?" Marco snorted. "You thinkIneed to force someone? Me? Kid, peoplebegfor a piece of me."
"A thug into human trafficking? Yeah, I bet you're real popular."
Despite himself, Marco couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter. "Hey, don't knock it until you try it." He dropped a hand to his crotch and squeezed. "And when you do try it, you'll be coming back for more again and again…"
Joey was still visibly scared of his situation, but at that, he looked Marco straight in the eye. "I'll pass, thanks," he drawled, dry as the Sahara. "I'm into men whoaren'tcomplete scum."
He was into men, huh? That probably wasn't the main thing that Marco should focus on, but it caught his attention. His gaze lingered on that pretty mouth. Joey turned away, frowning.
The silence in the car was almost tangible as Marco drove. His mind raced with images of what it would be like to take the kid up on his offer.
He imagined how Joey's body would feel beneath him, his cries of pleasure filling the air. He pictured those eyes, wide with shock, but then darkening with pleasure as Marco pressed into him, making Joey take his cock.
His skin burned at that thought, desire coursing through his veins. He wanted to make Joey moan with pleasure until he was begging for more—
