Sold to the mafia

Madeline

Trouble.

That’s the only word I can think of when I lay eyes on the stranger dressed all in black. Tall, dark-haired and incredibly handsome, the dude literally takes my breath away. At the other end of the bar with one other guy and throwing back shots of what I think is whiskey, he’s sitting there, staring at me with an intensity that makes me shiver all the way from across the room.

I can’t get over how handsome this guy is, tattoos and all. Seriously, I’m not one for tattoos, but this guy is so sexy that his ink only adds to his appeal.

I stare back, challenging him to look away. He doesn’t, and I’m almost spellbound by the way he continues to look at me. His gaze is so intense that I swear that my ovaries are doing the hokey-pokey.

But why is he staring at just me?

I know I’m not ugly, but there’s a sea of beautiful women on the dance floor who are probably more than willing go home with this guy and ride him like a mechanical bull.

Who says he’s looking at me because he wants to take me home and have sex? I wonder, even though I know that’s what most men in the club are here for. He might just think I look good.

I’m comforted by the thought and feel a surge of confidence at being admired, but the look in the handsome man’s eyes says otherwise. It seems to say, ‘You’re mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

I’m suddenly irritated. This is a guy, I feel, who’s used to getting his way with women.

Well, he won’t have his way with me, I vow. I don’t care how hot he is.

I’m about to turn my nose up, you know, to give him the proverbial snub, when the guy sitting next to him jumps up. I hadn’t noticed him until this moment, but he’s a hot piece of ass himself, and I wouldn’t mind it if he came over to say hi. But oh no, Mr. Sexier’s ass isn’t having it. He jumps up right after him and practically strong-arms the poor guy back down into his seat. The two exchange words before Mr. Sexier turns his intense gaze back on me. My heart thumps in my chest.

Oh no he didn’t.

“Holy shit!” Katie exclaims over the heavy thumping bass of the music and gawks. Just a second ago she’d been laughing with some annoying douche who’d bought her a drink, but apparently she has her eyes on the two of them, too. “Did you just see that? Dude just made that guy sit down like he was in time out.”

My mouth open and suddenly dry, I’m unable to respond because Mr. Sexier begins moving through the sea of undulating bodies toward our end of the bar. Even the way he moves is sexy, gliding forward with incredible swagger.

“I gotta go,” I squeak suddenly, ready to make a run for it. There’s no way I’m sticking around to be accosted by Satan himself.

“Oh no you don’t, missy,” Katie growls, clamping an arm down on my wrist and holding me in place. “You’re going to sit right here until Mr. Tall Bottle of Champagne gets to meet you.”

“Let me go,” I hiss, watching the man, who’s almost halfway to us. I can’t believe Katie is doing this to me. I’m totally petrified. “I don’t wanna talk to that guy.”Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

Katie scowls at me in disbelief. “You’re crazy. Do you see how hot he is?” She stares right at him, and I wanna hide. She’s making it so obvious!

“That’s the very reason I’m trying to get away. Now let go!” I try to pry her fingers off, but Katie is a stubborn bitch.

“No,” Katie refuses. “You’re going to give this guy a chance. Live a little.”

Bitch.

I tug sharply, trying to disengage from Katie’s grip and run for safety, but she suddenly appears to have the super strength of Wonder Woman and I’m kept in place. I’m about to summon everything I’ve got to shove Katie off her barstool, but too late. Trouble has arrived.

“Mind if I have a seat?” asks a deep, sexy voice that sends goosebumps up along my arm. I almost close my eyes as my pussy clenches with need.

I turn to look up into the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, and my breath catches in my throat. Now that he’s up close, I can see he’s even more handsome than he looked from across the bar, if that’s even possible. His features are perfectly chiseled, with a strong jawline, sharp cheekbones and a cleft in his chin. The way his dark hair hangs down just above his eyes makes him look all the more enigmatic.

I can see the tattoo on his arm clearly now. It’s a serpent, and it’s a beautiful piece of art. It wraps around his arm in a tight coil. The rest of the sleeve is jam-packed with a combination of scrolls and intricate designs, with layers of colors that blend seamlessly. I find my eyes focusing on all the detail and wondering how long it took. Hours, no, days. And holy hell, it must’ve hurt.

Katie turns in her seat and smiles up at the stranger, acting as if she hasn’t just held me hostage. “Not at all, Mr….?”

“Zane,” the handsome man supplies.

Fuck. Even his name is sexy. There’s no way I’m going to survive this. This is what I get for spending so much time away from men. The first one that gives me any attention is knocking me flat on my ass.

Katie beams and offers her hand. “Nice to meet you, Zane. I’m Katie, and this is my friend Madeline.”

I lean over and whisper in Katie’s ear, “I am SO going to kill you for this.”

Zane quickly shakes Katie’s hand and then offers me his. I stare at it for a moment like it’s a snake before taking it. The minute our hands touch, I feel a jolt of electricity go up my arm. Seriously, it’s like a thousand volts just shot through my body and I swear my hair must be sticking up like I just stuck my finger in a power outlet. I wanna pull away, but I can’t. I’m paralyzed.

“Nice to meet you, Madeline,” Zane says in that deep, throaty voice of his, shaking my hand, unaware that his touch is doing some serious things to my body. After a moment, he lets go of my hand and I feel a twinge of disappointment.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I manage, but I’m barely audible over the music and I’m sure Zane doesn’t hear me. He doesn’t seem to care though, and his eyes continue to burn into me.

Katie suddenly jumps off her stool. “I was just telling Maddy here that I needed to take a tinkle.” She motions at the packed bar. “You can have my seat until I get back.” Oh. My. God. She did not just say tinkle. Kill me now.

Before I can object, Katie takes off like a speed demon, leaving me all alone with Zane.

Katie, you are dead, I send telepathically, wishing bad luck on my best friend for her treachery.

Zane nods at Katie’s seat. “You mind?” I catch a whiff of alcohol on his breath. Whiskey. I don’t drink whiskey. Personally, I hate it. But the faint smell of it on his breath combined with his unique, masculine smell makes me want to lean into him.

Do you even have to ask?

I’m actually kind of surprised by Zane’s manners, considering that he looks like a fellow who takes what he wants without asking.

Not trusting myself to speak, I shake my head. Zane grins and sits down next to me. Being this close to him, I feel my body temperature rise. I almost feel like I need a fan.

Not noticing my discomfort, Zane signals the bartender, but the man who poured my earlier drink nods to the female bartender. She’s a slim brunette with big tits. She’s in the middle of serving some guy a drink, but I swear she puts on speed boots to get over to us.

“What will it be, honey?” she rasps breathlessly, looking like she’s ready to bend over right then and there and let Zane fuck her in front of the entire crowd. Suddenly I’m wishing the other bartender were here, and not this bimbo.

I start to look away to give them some fucking privacy, but Zane doesn’t pay her an ounce of attention and replies, “A cosmo for my lady friend here.”

What the hell? I wonder. Is he a mind reader, too?

“Nothing for you, Zane?” she asks, putting emphasis on his name. I’m reading her loud and clear, but if Zane is, he isn’t showing it.

“Nah,” he says, putting a hand on my barstool, a little too close to my ass. “Just my girl’s drink.” My girl’s? I feel a blush rise up my chest and into my cheeks. I have to admit, being called his girl feels nice. But I’m quick to push those emotions down.

The bartender looks at me for a second with disdain, and then she looks back at Zane and winks. “One cosmo, coming right up.” She sashays off to the mixer, swinging her hips with every step.

I decide to ignore both his hand and claim on me and instead I gape at Zane with shock when she’s gone. “How the hell did you know I liked cosmos?”

Zane grins, a boyish grin that makes my inner voice scream at me to run away now before it’s too late. “I’m good at reading women.” His eyes seem to say, ‘That’s not the only thing I’m good at, either.’ And I believe it.

“Can you read my horoscope, too?” I ask playfully. You know, the one that says that if I don’t get away from you now, I’m in serious trouble?

“Huh?” he asks and I almost laugh.

Instead I smile and toy with the empty glass in front of me, running my fingers down the stem and leaning into the bar. I shake my head and say, “Nothing.”

The brunette’s back in a flash with my drink. “Anything else, handsome?” She’s trying hard to get Zane’s attention, practically sticking her tits in his face. But he only has eyes for me.

“Nah, that’s all.” He tries to give her a tip, but she pushes it away.

“It’s on the house,” she purrs as another patron calls for her service. She leaves with a wink, saying, “If you need anything else, just holler. It’s always my pleasure to please.”

I’m not absolutely certain, but I’m pretty sure Miss Minx was letting Zane know that she’s down to fuck whenever he’s ready.

“Do you get that all the time?” I have to ask, even though I already know the answer. He’s fucking hot. Of course he does.

Zane shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “I’m used to it.” He stares at me. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Yep. He’s a mind reader.

Shaking my head, I take a sip of my cosmo. I’m impressed. It’s actually really good. I half-wonder if she spit in it though, just to spite me. “No, actually. Katie and I are new in town. We move into our new place tomorrow.”

Zane looks very interested. “Oh yeah? Where at?”

Alarm bells go off in my head. Don’t tell him where. I don’t know why I don’t want to tell Zane where I’ll be living. It’s not like he would stalk me considering he can have any woman he wants.

“1212 Candyland Road,” I lie. And the drink must be hitting me, because that is a horrible street name to think up. This town isn’t that big. He’s gonna know.

Zane makes a face. “Candyland Road? I’ve lived here all my life and never heard of that street.”

I gesture vaguely and take another sip. “It’s near the edge of town.”

“Oh, okay.” From his demeanor, I can tell Zane knows I’m bullshitting, but he doesn’t press the issue. He gives me a grin and leans forward, looking like my lie was more amusing than anything else.

“Aren’t you going to order yourself a drink?” I ask. I really don’t wanna get wasted while he’s sober. I’m actually surprised he’s not showing any signs of being tipsy with those shots he downed.

“Nah. I think I’ve had one too many shots of whiskey.”

“I saw.” I smile playfully. “How about something a little lighter, then? Like my cosmo?” It’s not in my nature to share a drink, but the thought of this man taking a sip from this girly glass makes me smile. Shit, maybe I’m already a little tipsier than I thought.

“Nah. Not my style. Besides, cosmos are pussy drinks.”

I know I should be turned off by his crude words and the diss on my drink, but the way he says it summons up the image of him down in between my legs and his powerful jaws clamped down on me.

Jesus, I haven’t even known him more than five minutes and I’m already thinking dirty thoughts. Get a hold of yourself, Maddy!

“Hey, they’re not that bad,” I protest, hoping he’s not clued in to the dirty image flashing through my mind. My nipples are hard, and my breathing is coming up short though. I clear my throat and take a quick drink. I need to get a grip.

“I’ll stick with whiskey, or vodka,” he replies as he shakes his head.

“You’re missing out,” I say as I take another sip of my drink.

“Doubt it. I’m particular with my intake of sweets.” The way he looks at me drives home his pun.

I nearly spit out my drink into his lap. Holy crap. Did the bastard know I was just thinking about him between my legs? I try hard not to let on that I’m picking up what he’s throwing down, but judging by the smirk on his face, he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Cocky bastard.

“So what brings you two to this shithole town?” Zane asks, looking as if he’s trying not to laugh at my reaction. “Wait, let me guess. You’re both going to the state university?”

I gulp, trying to keep my mind clear of that image of him eating me out. “Yeah.”

He grins. “I knew it.”

“What about you? Do you go to college there, too?”

A dark shadow passes over Zane’s face and I feel like I’ve hit a nerve. “No,” he says flatly after a second. That heat flowing through my body chills some. He obviously didn’t like that question. Shit, I’m not buzzed enough not to realize his displeasure. It was just an innocent question though. I retreat to my drink.

The beats of the music fills the silence that ensues, and I wonder if Zane’s decided I’m not worth his trouble. I figure the conversations he has with the women in places like these usually revolve around how soon can he take them home to his bed, not getting to know you type stuff.

“So, what do you do?” I dare ask when the silence between us stretches on for more than thirty seconds.

Zane seems to perk up at the question. “I’m a tattoo artist,” he says proudly.

“Really?” Tattoos really aren’t my thing, but I have respect for people with artistic talent. “That’s pretty cool. I’ve never known a real artist before.” I turn in my seat to face him. I really like that he has a job that’s… different.

“Yeah. I own my own shop, Inked Envy on Second Street.” He points at the serpent tattoo on his arm. “I gave myself this one.”

I gawk. The whole thing is so beautiful. “You did this yourself?”

He nods. That’s impressive. I know next to nothing about tattoos, but I know that had to be hard.

“How?” I can’t even imagine how long that took. I look at his right arm and see there’s no tattoos on that arm.

“I’m good at what I do,” he says matter-of-factly, without a trace of bragging in his voice.

“Wow.” Unconsciously, I reach out to touch his arm, feeling along the length of the tattoo. His muscles bulge underneath my touch, and once again, sparks seem to pop off his skin.

“Your hands feel so soft,” Zane says, grabbing hold of my wrist and pulling me in close. He runs his finger up along my arm, shooting off more sparks. “I could fix you up, free of charge. Would you like that?” It takes a moment for me to realize he’s asking about a tattoo.

I have an immediate urge to say yes, but I don’t, and I stare at him, trembling in his grasp. In that moment, I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life.

I feel like he has absolute power over me. His question could have been, “Will you come home and have sex with me?” and I would have said yes.

That’s it. I have to get away.

“Sorry, gotta go!” Not giving him a chance to respond, I jerk out of his grasp and quickly disappear into the crowd of people grinding on the dance floor. I look around for Katie, but don’t see her beneath all the flashing lights. Moving as fast as I can, I make my way into the club’s hallway and stop to rest against the wall.

I breathe in and out, trying to get a hold of myself, my legs shaking. All I can think about is how close I came to losing control, and Zane had only asked if I wanted him to give me a tattoo!

“Where do you think you’re going, sweet thing?” asks a deep voice that makes my knees weak.

Oh no.

I try to make a run for it, but suddenly I’m sandwiched between the wall and a rock-hard body.

Fuck.

“Did I say you could leave?” Zane growls in my face. His voice is soft and sexy, not meant to be a threat, only a dare to stay. The smell of whiskey is even stronger on his breath at this distance. Instead of disgusting me, it only makes me more turned on. His hot breath makes my nipples pebble. My core is soaked and my pussy is clenching around nothing. This isn’t good. I fucking want him. Every inch of my body craves him.

“Y-y-you’re not my daddy,” I stammer, ignoring every instinct in me.

“No. I’m not.” Zane gives me a cocky grin, moving in closer. “But I can be… if you want.”

I’m almost on fire. My dress seems to be rising up my thighs, practically inviting Zane in. “What are you talking about?” I have to close my eyes and will the naughty images away.

“I think you know,” he whispers in my ear.

I do know. And it would be so easy to give in, so easy to just melt in his arms. And he wants me. He chased me. That has to mean something.

“You know you want it.” He says it as if his words are a dare.

He’s right. I do want it. So fucking badly. My body is burning. Every inch of me wants him inside of me, even right here in this hallway. I don’t care who sees.

Zane inches in closer as if coming in for a kiss. If his lips touch mine, I know it’s all over.

I can’t do this!

“Get the fuck off me!” I yell out as the thought of him sliding my dress up and fucking me against the wall becomes a very real possibility.

At the last possible second, I summon every ounce of self-control I can muster and shove Zane away from me. Then I take off like a jackrabbit down the hall, and out the club, not daring to look back.