“You said you’d give me credit, Sammy,” I say, a prickle of fear at the back of my neck. My head spins and the room shimmers in and out of focus. My mouth is dry. What have I done this time? I know I can be reckless, but until this moment, I would have argued till I was blue in the face that my risks were calculated.
“Of course, of course,” he agrees with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You are one of my good customers, Gabriella. One of my best customers, in fact. For you, an extension is no problem.”
Sammy has two enforcers. They stand now on either side of him. One of them looks like a low rent version of Elvis, with sideburns and slicked-back black hair. The other is bald, like Sammy. Standing the way he is, with his arms folded in front of his broad chest, he reminds me of Mr. Clean.
I don’t know their names, but their work is legendary. Busted kneecaps are their stock in trade. It’s amazing how motivated you can get about paying Sammy when your ability to walk is at stake.
Fake Elvis licks his lips as he leers at me, and I repress my shudder. I can’t show fear here, not even for an instant. In the shark-infested waters that I swim in, any weakness is like blood.
“I can pay you back, Sammy. I just need a couple of months.”
He laughs and it’s a chilling sound. “Gabriella,” he chides me, “I’m a businessman, dollface. Even if you sweeten the pot,” his gaze rakes my body, lingering on my breasts, “I can’t wait that long. But I like you, and you have been playing with me for a long time. Two weeks.”
On a different day, I would have snickered inwardly at his term of endearment. Dollface. Sammy can’t be much older than fifty, yet he talks like he grew up in the forties.
But I hear the time I’ve been granted and a cold grip of fear clamps around my heart. Two weeks.
Fourteen days. One hundred thousand dollars.
I’m absolutely fucked.
* * *
Chapter 1
Gabriella:
It’s the same dream every single night - the dream that prevents me from getting any sleep.
The images haunt me. Their fingers trailing over every inch of my skin… Tangling in my hair, pulling at it till I groan in pleasure-pain… Spanking my ass until my skin is crimson, tweaking at my nipples till I gasp and beg for more…
“Carter,” I whimper in my sleep. “Dominic. Please.”
One night stands are not supposed to have this effect.
“Did I give you permission to speak, Ella?” Dominic asks me. Gorgeous, beautiful Dominic, with his wavy shoulder-length brown hair that has me yearning to thread my fingers through it and pull his mouth closer to mine. His grey eyes gleam with warmth and twinkle with barely concealed amusement at my desperation, but his rock-hard cock betrays his own feverish arousal.
“He’s waiting for an answer,” growls the other man. Carter.
Even in my dreams, I notice the incongruity of that growl, and I have to bite my cheeks to conceal my smile. Carter has red hair and green eyes and a friendly smile. Growling is an odd sound coming from him. “No, you did not give me permission to speak,” I whisper, then I toss my head in defiance. “I don’t always do what I’m told.”
Another growl, another laugh. A palm connects sharply with my butt. My legs are held open. A condom is rolled on, and a cock impales me.
Sharp, jagged lust is everywhere.
I moan and raise my hips to meet that thrusting dick. “Yes, yes, yes,” I moan, until another penis nudges my lips. “Open your mouth, princess,” Dominic says.
Fuck yes. That thick, long cock, with its perfect mushroom head dances near my face and I reach out to grab it and guide it into my mouth. “No hands, Ella,” Dominic breathes, his eyes closed, clenched need writ large on his face.
Gone now are the domination games we were playing earlier. Now, we just float in a sea of desire, hands and cocks everywhere. The pressure builds and I know the first of many orgasms is imminent. I’m holding on, pushing it back, knowing that it’ll be better if I can just wait… just a few more seconds…
The blaring of my clock-radio sounds in my ear, penetrating my sexual fog, and wakes me up. As I sit up on the futon that masquerades as my bed, my skin drenched with sweat, my body trembling from the effort of staying poised at the cliff edge of climax, I think to myself, Gabby, you have got to start dreaming of something else.