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The use of the word Boss has me stalling. What sort of boss is this man who bought me?
The man who is leading me opens the door to the room, putting out a hand to guide me in.
"Boss?” I ask, stopping outside the door.
"Yeah. He owns the place."
I let out a sigh of relief. The man who bought me isn't a Boss in organized crime. He's a businessman. The owner of the club.
I move into the room and look around. It reminds me a little of a hotel suite with a bed, sitting area, and even a bar.
"It means you get the nicest private room too. Wait here. He'll be up in a minute."
After he leaves, I'm once again struck by what I've just done. And what I am about to do. My knees shake, and I wonder if it's too late for me to change my mind. I take a step toward the door, but before I reach it, a body fills the space. I gasp and step back.
He smirks as he steps in, his gaze inventorying my body as if he’s searing it into his memory. "Having second thoughts? It doesn't matter. You’re bought and paid for. I plan to get every penny's worth."
Freedom. Freedom for me and Lucia. I run it like a mantra in my mind. "Where is my money?" My voice trembles, but I won't hand over my virginity until I have my money.
"You’ll have your check as soon as you've delivered the goods."
I flinch at his referring to me as goods. But of course, that’s what I am. I just sold my virginity.
Wait? A check? I can't take a check. To cash a check, I'd have to give my real name. There's no way I can cash a check without my father finding out. Surely, that's not how these auctions work. I might be sheltered, but I know checks leave a money trail. I can’t believe any man in this club is willing to write a check. It would show up as having bought sex.
I shake my head. "I need cash."
He crosses his arms and leans against the doorjamb. An amused smirk fills his face. And by amused, I don't mean he finds me charming. It makes me think of a Cheshire Cat. Or the amusement a cat might have as it watches a mouse trying to escape before it finally pounces on its prey.
"If you're concerned about a check being traced, I can recommend a bank. It takes care of all our customers’ business."
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. There are only a certain few types of people who have the sort of power to control a bank. Politicians, tycoons, and organized crime bosses. I peg this man as a tycoon because he clearly isn’t a politician, and I can’t bear the thought of having sold my virginity to a Don.
"I need cash. Cash or the deal is canceled."
His mouth continues to smirk, but his eyes narrow in a way that makes him look dangerous. "No refunds, no returns,cara mia."
3
NIKO
Idon’t have time for this. I’m not here tonight to fuck. I’m supposed to be checking on the club. It’s been a month since I’ve stopped by, and while I’ve hired top-notch people, I make my presence known at all my establishments. I trust no one. The closer they are to me, the less I trust them. I didn’t become the youngest Don in the Leone Family—hell, any family—by trusting people. I did it through brute strength fueled by revenge and anger. It still drives me today, so I’m fucking pissed off that my dick has been distracted by a woman.
I’ve had my share of pussy. So much pussy that fucking doesn’t have the appeal that it once had. Fine. I’d rather take care of business, and my enemies, without the hassle and complications of women or hard-ons. So why the fuck did this woman stop me in my tracks as I entered the club?
I’ve never participated in the virgin auctions. The truth is that most of these women aren’t really virgins. Carlo, my manager, reports it doesn’t matter. It’s all an illusion that our patrons are willing to pay for. While some of the so-called virgins clearly have fucked, others might be technically a virgin in thata cock has never passed their pussy lips. But they’re far from innocent. A cock has passed their other lips.
But this woman on the stage with the long, dark hair, child-like dress, and innocence pouring out from her… good God, I doubt she’s ever seen a cock in real life. Hell, probably not in a book, either.
I never pegged myself for the lusting after virgins type. I like women who know what they’re doing in bed and better yet, understand that fucking is all about getting me off. Tonight, however, it appears I’m in lust for a virgin. A virgin with wide, innocent eyes, the dress of a girl, and tits made for fucking.
With my bid, I make sure she is mine. I don’t know what to expect from her, although her demand to be paid isn’t it. She’s over her head here, and yet, she has enough sass to assert herself. I wonder if fucking her will be the same. Uncertainty, and yet, talking back. The idea makes my cock thicken.
I’m an asshole and a brute, but something about her has me hesitating to take what is mine. I don’t want to scare her. In fact, I want to make her come. Hard. I want this first time for her to be a memory that lasts until her dying day. I want her to always be disappointed in the men she’s with next because they can’t satisfy her like I can.
I go to the bar and pour myself a double whisky on the rocks. “Want a drink?”
She shakes her head. I wonder if she’s never had alcohol either. She looks young, but not underage.
