Mob Mistress (7 page)

Her eyes glittered with tears, which she blinked back. “I need money,” she whispered, gulping. “That makes me sound like the worst kind of woman, doesn’t it?”

“No,” he reassured her. “You belong to me. That means I take care of you. You can call me when you need help. Just not at home.”

Lexi began to tremble in his arms, holding back tears.

“Don’t cry, baby. How much do you need?”

She ducked her chin, pressing her forehead against his chest as the tears emerged. “I owe rent at the salon. I’m not an employee there, I just rent the chair. I’m over two months behind on rent and the owner told me if I didn’t pay by tomorrow, I’m out. I guess this isn’t my week.”

He caressed her back, the natural curve sensuous under his palm. “How much?”

“About thirty-five hundred total. But fifteen hundred would probably get her off my back.”

He kissed the place her ear met her face, then her temple. “I’ll take care of it,” he murmured.

* * * * *

Tears of relief squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. “Thank you.”

He winked. “You’ll owe me.”

She narrowed her eyes with mock suspicion. “What exactly will I owe you?”

Bobby’s face split into a crocodile grin. “What do you have to offer?”

She giggled. “Not much. A lifetime’s worth of free haircuts?”

“Hmm.”

“How about anal?”

He laughed, cupping her sore bottom and squeezing it. He drew his finger up her crack, making her squirm as he neared her back hole. “You’ll take it in the ass any time I decide you deserve it, little girl,” he growled in her ear. “That’s not yours to give.”

She rubbed her clit over his leg, his words making her ache.

“No, I think owning you is sufficient for now. Although I might collect on a haircut or two.”

She snuggled against him, wondering if she were crazy for feeling so warm toward a man who had just taken his belt to her ass.

“I’m not judging you, but how did you get so far behind financially?”

She sagged. “A car T-boned mine last fall. I ended up in the hospital with a concussion. I couldn’t work for three weeks, and I didn’t have health insurance, so the hospital bills cost me thirty grand.”

“That’s why you got so nervous in the car?”

She exhaled. “Yeah. I couldn’t afford to buy a new car, and so I guess I didn’t get back on the horse soon enough because now I can’t stand to be in one.”

“Sounds like a little post traumatic stress disorder. I know someone who can help you release that, if you want.”

She looked up at him, trying to gauge whether he was serious.

“It’s called EMDR, have you heard of it?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t really know how it works, but basically you move your eyes left and right while you tell the story of what happened and it erases all the automatic physical responses that can get triggered by the trauma.”

“Have you done it?” she asked, surprised to find this apparently open-minded side to him. He certainly didn’t appear to be the soy protein shake and wheat grass kind of guy.

He grinned. “Yeah. Does that surprise you?”

“Sort of.”

“My father was gunned down in front of me when I was sixteen. He died bleeding in my arms. Afterward I was twitchy — if a door banged open, I’d draw my gun, that kind of thing. I dated this therapist who released it, just like that. One session. Do you want to see her?”

“Another ex-girlfriend of yours?” she asked skeptically.

He smiled, “It was years ago. And I’m sorry about Stacy. She’s having a hard time letting go.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you don’t seem threatened.”

She swallowed. She didn’t feel threatened by Stacy, but the discussion of all his ex-girlfriends served as a reminder that Bobby Manghini was not a man she could get attached to, despite the way he seemed to be worming his way into her heart.

“So I asked you a question,” he said, with a light slap on her raw cheek.

She wriggled closer to get away from his hand. “How much does it cost?”

This time his hand came down harder. “I will take care of it. You think I would suggest it and not pay for it?”

She squeezed her butt together and giggled. “Okay, yes. I would like to try it. But if she asks me for your phone number I’m going to tell her to take a hike.”

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “Good girl.”

She didn’t know why those words turned her to mush. Or why being “owned” by Bobby Manghini held so much appeal, especially considering what he’d just done to her. But in that moment it didn’t matter. She felt safe and warm in his strong arms, her problems all handled by him with ease.

“I need to get back home, angel,” he said, sounding regretful. He stroked her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Well, my ass is on fire, but yeah,” she smiled, “I’m okay. Thanks, Bobby.”

He kissed her on the lips and started to get dressed. Pulling out his wallet, he dropped a huge wad of cash on the dresser. “I probably have a grand with me now and I’ll bring you the rest tomorrow. I can meet you down at the salon in the afternoon.”

The tears leaped into her eyes again. “You don’t need to. That will be enough to get them off my back. I have another seven hundred to add to that.”

“Okay. Call me if it’s not.”

She climbed out of bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry about calling you,” she whispered into his neck.

He ran his hand down her back and patted her ass. “It’s over, baby. I punished you, we wiped the slate clean.” He held her by the nape and kissed her possessively. “And now that I know you’re really my girl,” he said, “there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

She stared, wanting to ask him what he meant, but he had already turned to go. She listened to the sound of him leaving the apartment as she curled back into the luxurious bed.

Now that I know you’re really my girl…

What on earth could he mean by that? And why did it make her so happy to hear?

* * * * *

He woke wishing he had spent the night with Lexi. He meant what he’d said about doing anything for her. He had never known the high he could get from having a girl like Lexi submit to him.

He’d had submissives before — pain sluts who liked it dirty. Or who liked it during sex, but couldn’t take the real punishment. And he’d had girls who didn’t want to submit to his authority, but took it because they wanted his money. Stacy had fallen into that category. She sulked and made a big deal out of most every spanking.

But Lexi was so different. First of all, she was more than a sexy body — she had a brain and a real personality. She wasn’t the type to whore herself out for a luxury apartment. He should not be happy for her misfortune, but he knew if she hadn’t been desperate, she never would have given him the time of day.

Perhaps she never would have known she liked a dominant lover. Because he had a feeling he was her first, and her body’s responses to his authority surprised her. But how would she feel about what happened last night in the light of day? Playful spanking was one thing, real punishment another. Just because she had accepted it at the time didn’t mean it would sit right with her later.

Maybe he should have stayed the night.

He hung around until his daughters were up, checking in with them about their plans for the day, then he took the additional cash Lexi needed to pay the whole debt off and headed over.

When he walked in, he found her eating a bowl of cereal on the couch in her pajamas.

“Good morning!” She jumped up in surprise to see him, gathering up her cereal bowl, coffee mug and another plate from the coffee table and rushing to the kitchen to wash up. He could tell her he didn’t mind a few dishes, but the sight of her scurrying around to please him turned him on.

“I’m sorry —I didn’t expect to see you until this afternoon,” she said, returning to the living room and running her hands through her hair.

“Yeah. I wanted to see you.”

Her eyes rounded, as if startled. Or was it hopeful? Either way, he saw she cared. Just as seeing her rush to clean up pleased him, so did seeing the need in her eyes. She didn’t just want his money. She cared.

“Last night was intense.”

“Intense, yeah,” she breathed, stepping into his arms and resting her cheek against his chest.

When he heard a sniff, he pulled her head away. “Are you crying?”

“No,” she said, wiping her eye with the back of her hand. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Come here,” he said, leading her to an armchair and pulling her into his lap.

“It meant a lot to me that you accepted my punishment last night.” He ran his thumb along her cheek. “You took it so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”

She met his eye finally, confusion evident. “So were you really mad?”

He lifted a brow, turning stern. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know!” she wailed, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry,” she sniffed, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m not usually like this.”

“Cry all you want,” he told her. “I gave the spanking, I can handle the tears.”

* * * * *

She hid her face in his neck. He rubbed slow circles over her back. “I was mad, yes,” he said, coaxing her head away from his shoulder and cupping her face. He sought her eyes with his gaze. She met it, but flushed.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. Something about her vulnerability prompted him to be completely honest with her. “But I also like to spank.”

He studied her face, bracing for her reaction to his admission.

“So... did it turn you on?” she asked.

“No,” he answered. “Well, that’s not true. Yes, a lot of it did, but once it became challenging for you, it lost all sexiness.”

“
Challenging
,” she repeated, her lips twisting into a wry grimace.

He touched her cheek. “You took it very well, little girl.”

She searched his face, as if needing more answers.

“It didn’t turn me on, but it did erase all my irritation. And it bonded me to you. I meant it last night when I said there is nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for you. I loved the way you submitted to me for punishment.”

“Did I really have a choice?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. You always have a choice. You could walk out of here any time, sugar. You’re not my prisoner. But if you stay, you follow my rules. That’s our deal.”

Chapter Six

She took a deep breath. “There’s this part of me that keeps freaking out about everything. Like this is just one giant mind-fuck, and I’m playing right into your hands. Did you ever see
9½ Weeks
?”

“I thought it was pretty hot.”

She giggled. “Okay, so did I. But the message was that it was all wrong for her. And he was dangerous.”

Bobby’s brows drew together. “Do you fear I’m a psychopath?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No. I’m just confused. I’ve been mixed up all morning, that’s why you caught me sitting around in my pajamas. Part of me feels bad about screwing up and getting in trouble, and then another part is pissed that you came down on me so hard. And then still another part says none of it was real, it’s just the way you like to have sex. And then the last piece of me says who really cares what you do, you just gave me a thousand bucks. If you want to take a belt to my ass and you get us both off afterward, who am I to complain?”

Bobby chuckled. “I don’t know, Lex. It is confusing. I like to be in charge of you. I like to punish — in the bedroom and for real. And real life spanking is hotter to me, even if it’s not in the moment. Does it make any sense to say that knowing you will submit to me in real life makes the sex steamier when we play?”

She relaxed. Hearing him articulate his fetish comforted her. He understood his quirk and didn’t believe whipping his girlfriend with a belt for breaking rules was a God-given right afforded to men. Or even a normal, accepted behavior. He may be mafia, but knew the line he walked.

He picked up her hand and interlaced his fingers over the tops of hers. “I know you like some part of it, too,” he murmured.

She lifted their joined hands to her lips and kissed his fingers as her answer.

“So you’re staying? You’re still my goomah?”

“Did you bring any money?” she asked with mock greediness. “No, just kidding. Bad joke. I sort of hate myself for using you like this.”

“I don’t hate myself for using you. At all,” he said, waggling his eyebrows in an appreciative leer. “And yes, I brought the money. Go get dressed and we’ll take it down to the salon together.”

She surged from his lap at the order. “Do I have time for a quick shower?” she called over her shoulder as she padded to the bedroom.

“Do what you need to do,” he said.

She turned on the water and popped in the shower, making it quick, not wanting to keep him waiting. Their discussion had relieved the heaviness and confusion she’d felt all morning, and now as she shampooed her hair and shaved her legs, a new excitement bubbled up.

When she stepped out of the shower, Bobby was sitting on the bathroom countertop, waiting.

“Eek! You surprised me. I’m sorry, am I taking too long?”

As usual, he looked casually elegant, his khaki slacks crisply ironed, the short-sleeved button-down square cut at the bottom to wear un-tucked. “No, I just wanted to watch,” he said, his eyes roving across her body.

She dropped her towel to give him the full view. “I’m yours to ogle.”

He grinned. “My cousin Joey just texted to say he has tickets to the Cubs game today. You want to head down to Wrigley Field after we stop by the salon?”

She lit up, the idea of spending the afternoon with him appealing. “I’d love to! Oh wait,” she said, giving him a coy look over her shoulder as she headed out the door. “Why are you asking? I thought I was available to you anytime you demand, unless I’m working.”

He lunged and caught her around the waist before she made it out the door. Hauling her back, he put one foot on the toilet and bent her over his knee, delivering a series of stinging smacks to her ass. “Are you really going to tell me how to do my job?”