Sondra
Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone.SondraDean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me.My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress.“Hey,” I mutter.He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?”There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs.I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper.
SondraI take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone.Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe.I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched.This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason...You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?Five thousan
“You’re as sweet as you look, aren’t you?” His face darkens and he takes a step back. “You shouldn’t have come.” He shakes his head. “I figured you’d quit for sure.”Suddenly I’m suffocating under his disappointment in me, which mirrors my own. When will I ever smarten up? Bartenders who like to drop ecstasy and mafioso casino owners are bad news.As if he senses my change in mood, he reaches out and touches my shoulder. It’s a light touch—respectful. Nothing sexy or dominating about it. “I’m sorry about yesterday, Sondra.”The way he says my name makes my insides twist and wriggle. I didn’t expect it to sound so… familiar on his lips.“I’m glad you came back—even though I wish to hell, for your sake, you didn’t.”I shove my chin forward. “So which is it? You want me here or you don’t?”Suddenly I’m trapped against the cart, caged by the two steel bands of his arms. Tacone comes flush up against me, hard, muscular lines pressed against my curves. His cock bulges at my stomach. “I jerk
SondraCorey and I ride into work together the following week. I love when we work the same shift, but she hates it, because it means she’s working days, and she makes more money at night.It’s the first chance I’ve had to fill her in on the latest with Tacone, which is nothing.“So you haven’t seen him since the day he kissed you?”“Nope. The next day I went in and there was a fifty on the table. I left it. The day after that, he left a hundred-dollar bill with my name on it.”“You took it, of course.”I didn’t want to. I was afraid it would mean something. Like if I accept his money, I’ll owe him something later. Except I really can use the money. I need at least two thousand for a deposit and first month’s rent. And another three thousand to buy a car that runs.“Yeah. And then he left another one a couple days later.” I dig them out of my purse and hand it to her. “Here.”She shoves my hand away. “What’s that for?”“To go toward my share of the rent.”She rolls her eyes. “Save it.
SondraI take the elevator up to the top floor. Something makes me try Tacone’s room first—some sixth sense he’ll be there this time. I knock on the door, but hear nothing. So much for intuition.I key myself in and get to work.It’s empty, as it’s been the past week. A crisp fifty dollar bill lays on the table with a note and my name. At this rate, I’ll earn enough to move out of Corey’s by the end of the month.Which, considering what she told me about Dean’s interest in a threesome, is even more necessary.I leave the bill on the table until I finish. It’s for a job well-done and I’ll make damn sure I do my best before I take the money. I clean the bathrooms and bedroom and head into the study. I end up in the office last. Because Marissa was paranoid about it, I stay way the hell away from the desk, dusting the book cases, emptying the trash and vacuuming. Noticing a spider web in the upper corner of the window, I grab the broom to swipe it. And that’s when the other end of the br
NicoI sit down at my desk and try not to watch the very turned on, angry woman strutting through my suite.It seems I’m destined to be inappropriate with Sondra Simonson. Keeping my hands off her is an impossibility. I tried to stay away—Madonna, I did. But here she is, surrendering to me again with that same scared-but-turned on vibe that drives me crazy.I never paid much attention to my thing for dominating women.Oh, I like to be in charge—no doubt about that. But that just means I call the shots. It’s why I normally use professionals who do as I say without question. But none of them ever tremble and gasp like Sondra. None of them have had a genuine response to me. None of them flash that fury she just did for not following through.If she only knew I’m trying to do a kindness by releasing her. I shouldn’t have spanked her in the first place.But that ass!That juicy, spankable ass.And the adorable little sounds she made when I smacked it.I give my cock a hard squeeze through
SondraNico stares at me like a starved animal, appearing almost pained with desire. He eases his fingers from me and rubs circles on my inner thighs with his thumbs. I’m boneless with the pleasure of my orgasm. Even without intercourse, I have to say it was the best climax I’ve ever had. Everything about the encounter made it hot, starting with the lead up of Nico strip searching me the day we met, then spanking me, then this. Combine that with Nico’s considerable skill and genuine interest in my pleasure, and I’m doubting this sexual experience will ever be beat.And considering he hasn’t been satisfied yet, I don’t think it’s over.How much better will it get?“Th-thank you,” I say when my voice returns to me. My throat’s sore from crying out, which isn’t something I normally do.Nico’s smile seems almost sad. “You’re so fucking sweet.” His hands roam up to my breasts. He lowers the zipper of my dress and pulls my boobs out of the bra cups. He pinches both my nipples at the same ti
NicoI’m itchy and ready to put my fist through the wall for the first thirty minutes after she leaves.I hurt her. It was there, all over her face. I fucking tried to do the right thing, but she didn’t see it that way.And somehow hurting her is less conscionable than anything else. But the real question is—why was she hurt? Because I offered the money? Did I make her feel like a whore? I tried to be clear it wasn’t because she let me into her panties. Or was it something else? Rejection?Fuck, she doesn’t deserve that.And then the need to fix it takes over, way stronger than my desire to do the right thing for her. Or maybe I’m just a greedy bastard who’s pretending he gives a fuck about anybody but himself.I can’t stay away from Sondra Simonson.I pick up my phone and call security. “I need the location on an employee.” All of our employee name tags have tracking devices and the information on where they are in the casino is easy to pull up. It’s also recorded so we know where ev