Chapter Three
Snake
I want to smile from ear to ear while I watch Bruno in the ring, taking shots like champ. But I can’t. I have to play the part. I cover my face with both hands, shaking my head. I kick a metal chair when his opponent lands a nice one right across his jaw. The guy he’s fighting is fierce, but nothing Bruno can’t handle. That tower of muscle is an ace in the hole. He can defeat anything that crosses his path. Which is why everyone else bet on him to win tonight.
Bruno swings and misses. This gives the other guy the opportunity to deliver a sharp uppercut. It’s so hard, his fist briefly disappears beneath Bruno’s sternum. I cringe. Bruno drops to his knees.
“That’s it,” I say under my breath. “Stay down.”
I watch as the opponent grabs Bruno by the hair, and starts pummeling his face. My knuckles are white as I hold my fist under my chin. I need this fucking payday like I need air to breathe. Nothing else worked out for me this month, and it’s almost time to pay tribute.
There are about a three dozen other guys watching the fight, various players in LA’s criminal underworld. The crowd is made up of gang members, wise guys, and even a politician or two. They all seem as upset over Bruno’s performance as I’m pretending to be. A few of them are giving me the side eye. They’d be wise to suspect that something’s up. When Bruno takes his loss, we’ll have to get the cash, then get the hell out of here.
Bruno’s pinned flat on this stomach, his opponent straddling his back. The referee has started the count. I watch closely, counting silently in my head along with him. The opponent is cheesing for the crowd, posing, and being a real fucking asshole. When we’re down to the last couple of seconds, the guy bends down and kisses Bruno square on the lips.
“Fuck,” I whisper to myself.
I can barely watch as Bruno presses his hands into the mat, and gets up on all fours with his opponent on his back. Bruno shoots straight up, standing on his knees. The crowd goes crazy as the opponent falls backwards, slamming on his back. Bruno’s on him in a second. He hurls his huge arm back, then lands one solid punch to the side of his opponent’s head.
Bruno stands up. The other guy doesn’t.
The crowd fucking loses it.
A guy in a cheap suit walks up to me with his hand out. I take the wad of cash out of my pocket, and lay it in his palm.
When Bruno gets out of the ring, I squeeze passed the handful of chicks lining up to suck his dick, then pull him to the side.
“What the fuck happened out there?” I say into his ear. “You were supposed to take a dive.”
Bruno crinkles his bruised and swollen face. “You saw what that prick did. I couldn’t let that stand.”
I want to bust Bruno’s balls a little longer, but he’s distracted by a blonde number in a tight red skirt who takes his hand and pulls him away. I’d been hoping to run out of here with my pockets stuffed with cash, but since no one’s after me for fixing the fight, I might as well have a drink. I straighten my tie and head to the back.
There’s a makeshift bar set up in the back of this warehouse where a curvy Latina wearing next to nothing is serving drinks. This warehouse is owned by a bouncy house rental company. There are deflated castles, slides, and a jungle with palm trees lining the walls. The owner hosts these little events in exchange for a cut of the action. I guess these days, people have to be creative when finding other streams of revenue.
I order a shot of whiskey and drink it down. I’m fucked for the month. There’s no use in worrying about that anymore. I can salvage the night by getting raging drunk, and finding a pair of tits to get lost in.
I order another. This one, I sip slowly while I survey the crowd, seeing what kind of ass is on the menu tonight. There are the usual suspects, the working girls who stand to make a lot fucking more than me tonight, the girlfriend’s of mobsters who I’ll only touch if I want to lose an eye, and then there are the women who don’t belong here. They come from good families, good neighborhoods, who think getting fucked by a bad boy will shake them from their white bread boredom.
I’ve already fucked a good percentage of the women here. I drink my whiskey, smiling as it burns deep in my chest. I want a taste of something different.
At the end of the bar, I catch sight of a cascade of wavy, light brown hair. The body underneath is tight, toned, and served up on a silver platter in a skimpy black dress. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, and I see her face.
I’ve never seen her before. Her deep brown eyes dart around as she drinks something clear. She doesn’t belong here. She’s not one of us. But she doesn’t seem afraid. Her back straightens suddenly. She feels me watching her. I hold my gaze.
Her eyes flit over to me, then back to her drink, then back to me. She smiles. I watch her a little longer, just to make sure that she’s not with a gangbanger or a wise guy. When I don’t see anyone claim her, I adjust my suit, smooth back my hair, and walk over there, cock first.
“Good evening,” I say, the words rolling smoothly over my tongue as I sidle up next to her at the bar. It’s crowded, and there’s not much space, so I have stand so close to her her arm grazes against my chest. She looks up at me, batting her lashes, her cheeks turning pink. I drag my finger up her bare arm. “You here with anyone, sweetheart?”
She giggles, then lets out an exasperated sigh. “I came with my friend, but she ditched me.”
Just as I thought, she’s daddy’s little girl, looking to take a walk on the wild side. Well, I can give her the adventure she craves.
“I’m Jess.”
“Snake.” I take her hand and kiss it. Her skin is soft underneath my lips. I want to taste more. “You’ll never guess how I got my nickname.” I glance down, signaling what I’ve got under the hood.
Jess gives me a sideways smile. “You’re direct.”
“This isn’t some West Hollywood bar where people dance around what they want. Everyone here is here for a specific action.”
Jess turns towards me, giving me full view of that lovely rack. “And what’s your action?”
“Business,” I say, cocking my head to one side. “But that’s over. Now, I’m after pleasure.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Business, huh? You’re with the Lombardi’s?”
I laugh, straightening my cuffs. “The Mariano’s actually.” I see her eyes light up at this. She’s found the mafia bad boy she always wanted. I lean closer to her. She shivers as my fingertips dance down her spine. I whisper in her ear. “Now that I’ve told you that, I have to make sure you’re not wearing a wire under that pretty dress.”
Her skin goes cold. She giggles nervously. She looks at me through her lashes. She’s hesitant, but she wants it, I can tell.
“Come on, sweetheart.” I slip my arm around her shoulders. “Let’s make both of our nights.”
*
I’ve got Jess pinned against a wall in the alley by the warehouse, my hand up her skirt cradling her thigh while I kiss the tops of her tits. This has got to be some kind of record for me, from the bar to the alley in about ten minutes. Being a made man with the Mariano’s is like a free pussy pass, which I’ve never had a problem redeeming. But now, even I’m impressed.
Jess leans back against the brick wall, her creamy tits spilling over the top of her dress. I inch my hand up to her ass. Her back stiffens. She takes my hand in a cold hard grip, stopping me from going any further.
“Relax,” I whisper soothingly. “We’re going to have a good time tonight.”
Jess blinks up at me, and takes a shuttering breath. “This is-this is not what I came here for. I shouldn’t-“
I press my hips into her, letting her feel that I’m already getting hard.
“It’s wrong, sweetheart. That’s why it feels so good.”
I lean back in to kiss her, but she crouches down suddenly. I almost knock my head against the bricks. Jess scoots to the side under my arm, out of my grasp. I can already feel the blue balls coming on.
Jess stands up straight, her chest puffed out. “I need to get back to my friend.”
I take a deep breath, relaxing my shoulders. I don’t want to fuck this up by coming on too strong.
“Maybe we can get together sometime in the future. I’ll show you a nice time.” I step towards her, but she takes a step back. Maybe the prom queen is having second thoughts about what she came here to do tonight. “You got a phone?”
She nods, then takes her phone out of her purse. I take this as good sign. Maybe I’ll need to put a little more work in with this one, which is no big deal. I never back away from a challenge. I grab her phone, add my number to her contacts, then hand it back to her.
“I’ll be thinking of you tonight,” I say. “Send me something interesting.”
Jess purses her lips. “I will,” she says, making my dick twitch.
Back in the warehouse, I search for Bruno. As far as I’m concerned, this night’s a bust. There are other chicks here I can bang, but none of them appeal to me. I can still smell Jess’ shampoo, and that little resistance she gave me only made me want her more.
I find Bruno smoking a cigar with some well dressed gangsters. His eyelids are heavy, and I can tell he’s drunk. My guess is, people who made money off of him have been buying him shots all night. It takes me a few minutes to get him up from his seat, but soon, we’re ready to go.
We’re almost to the door, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a text from a number I don’t recognize. Blood rushes to my cock. It’s her.
I open the text, hoping for a sexy nude, which makes what I get a royal disappointment. It’s pictures of some kind of documents.
“What the fuck?” I mutter.
I tell Bruno to go have one last drink, then I start looking for her.