Chapter 8

Shay-Lee

The sound of the running water coming from the bathroom, where Dion was taking a shower, mixed with the buzzing of an incoming call, stirred me awake. With a grunt, since my ass was still sore from what we did only a little while ago, I turned onto my back and reached for my phone.

My stomach flipped the same as it did every time when the name Jordan popped on the screen. Since making him leave for New York, he'd been calling me nonstop, and despite promising him we'd speak on the phone every night, I'd been avoiding him. During the week I stayed in London with my father, I shot Jordan a short text, telling him I wouldn't be available for the next few days before my dad took my phone away. But I'd been home for over a week now, and I still ignored all of his calls and texts.

I felt too guilty to hear his voice, even more so knowing that I'd just fucked the person who had threatened him because of his father's debt. His asshole of a father borrowed money from Dion's company, and when it was time to pay it back, it was Dion's men who came for Jordan. Of course, Jordan never knew Dion—he was too much of a nobody to actually face the big boss—but it was still wrong of me to sleep with Dion.

But I did everything wrong, anyway. My existence itself was wrong.

My guilt wasn't only because of Dion but because of being with someone else, period. Jordan and I were never an official couple, but in the time we spent together, I sure as hell tried to be as faithful as I could. Considering I was practically a slut, it didn't go well. While Jordan was all but willing to give up on everything for my sake, I couldn't even bring myself to stop fucking others. Therefore, I couldn't let him ruin himself for someone like me. I used him, and he was ready to be used. It was toxic, deadly, and it ended violently.

The phone went off, and then came a text.

Jordan: I miss you, baby. I keep running everything back in my head and nothing makes sense… Please, I need to talk to you. Just call me back. Please.

It was one out of many texts that pinched my heart. I missed him, too, and yet, I didn't text back. I couldn't. If I did, it would only pull him back into the vortex known as my life, and I knew he wouldn't survive it. Not this time.

My phone suddenly felt too heavy, so I dropped it on the mattress, flipped onto my stomach, and shoved my face into the pillow. Squeezing my eyes shut, the sweet moments I shared with Jordan flashed before me like a moving film. The first time I sucked him off in his hideous motel room, the time in the hospital where he'd confessed his love for me, and when we went to buy our costumes for Halloween.

And then, without any warning, my thoughts drifted a thousand miles away from my kind Jordan and into the dangerous zone of Diesel. A guy who shouldn't be in my head, and yet, the strength of his arms and the warmth of his skin were all engraved in me. Whenever his name popped into my head, it was as if my brain floated back to every second I'd ever shared with him. The aggressiveness, the violence, the hate—they all came crashing against that night in the hotel where he was nothing but gentle.

All those thoughts gave me a headache, and I knew the cure for that. Getting up from the bed, I passed by the dresser where we did coke earlier and grabbed a silk robe. Just as I was tying the creme-colored belt around my waist, the door to the bathroom opened, and Dion walked out.

Drying his tousled brown hair with a towel, he pinned his pale eyes on me. "Where are you going?" he asked, a crooked smile on his chiseled face, as I reached for my mask.

"Downstairs, to the club." We were in his suite, which was on the upper floor.

"So I wasn't enough?" He tossed his towel on the floor, then came to stand before me, naked, while caressing the bite mark he'd left on my neck with his fingers.

Looking between us, I eyed his flaccid dick resting against his dark pubes and smiled to myself. He was definitely eye candy. "You're never enough." I grinned. "Too old to keep up with me."

He laughed at my tease. "Too old? I'm thirty-two. If anything, you're too young."

"And yet, not once did it stop you." I pushed back from him and moved to the mirror to put my mask on.

"You're over eighteen. That's all I care about."

Glancing at him over my shoulder, I found him looking back at me with hungry eyes. "Obviously… Considering all the drugs we do, I assume you don't care for corrupting young souls."

He laughed and moved until he was close enough to graze his thumb over my bottom lip. "Oh, mon péché, you're already corrupted enough." His mouth twisted in a wicked smile. "I'm just enjoying someone else's work."

"You're hideous," I said, and his grin widened.

"Only because I, too, was corrupted."

For a moment there, we just stared at each other. He was seeing whatever he saw in me while I tried to imagine how a man like him, the head of a crime organization, was once the same as me.

Slapping his hand away, I cleared my throat. "Well, I don't give a shit. I'll see you later."

I hadn't seen Nero since our time in the Notte Oscura three days ago. And it would be a lie to say I wasn't dying to see him again. His personality was what I expected it to be and more. The man was a complete asshole, which only made me eager to know him more. When he ordered me to step into the light and sit on the bed only so we could switch places? Fuck. It thrilled me to the point I forgot who I was for a moment. Such disconnection never happened to me while sober.

Because of what Dion told me about Nero's "no men" rule, I was sure I'd get punched in the face. One could only imagine my surprise when I noticed that he'd been hard the entire time we'd been together. I didn't do anything to get him aroused, which was odd. I managed to seduce more than enough straight men in my life before, but I had to work for it, whether it was dirty talking, body language, some games, or manipulation. Eventually, they all fell into my bed. But three nights ago, I didn't do any of those things because Nero didn't leave room for that. I was too captivated by him to do anything but be under his influence.

Maybe being in control turned him on? I considered that option but dismissed it because he wasn't a Dom. No. He didn't want to play games. He'd made that clear, which was good because I wasn't a sub and was never into the whole BDSM thing. It worked for others, not for me.

With my head full of Nero and how he affected every inch of my body, I walked around the club. With Dion's mask adorning my face and his robe covering my naked body, I somehow felt at home. Not only that, but his people also seemed to treat me differently, like I was a unique treasure. Walking down the main corridor, I reached the big black doors leading to the main sex room, the one Dion showed me during my first time here. Pushing the doors open, I stepped inside and gazed around. It looked the same as it had the last time, with the large room full of patrons engaging with their Gatti. While making my way around, I definitely appreciated the looks I earned from both the customers and the professionalsas I passed by them. Their eyes told me they wished I was with them. They can fucking dream. No one in this place was good enough for me. No one but the man at the far end of the room, with a black mask and a grin I was dying to get rid of.

And while speaking to him that night was thrilling, I was still pissed off by the way he left me hanging. Without touching me, he still managed to have me beneath his large, masculine body. And with less than an inch separating us, his deep, dark eyes examined me with the force of a thousand armies. His proximity was so great that for those few seconds, my breath stopped as my heartbeat thrummed in my ears. I wanted him so bad in that torturous moment, and he wanted me, too. I could feel it, see it in his eyes. But instead of taking what was right beneath him, he pushed back and left me alone like the jackass he was.

I wasn't the type of guy to be left alone this way, and he was about to learn that.

Diesel

I was bored as fuck. That was until the beautiful Llorón walked into the room. My grin from seeing him turned into a full-on smile when he chose the sofa right before me.

"What are you looking at?" my client, a woman in her mid-thirties, asked while caressing my thigh with her soft hand.

"Nothing," I lied because I just looked at the Gatto who approached Llorón. They exchanged a few words before Rojo, the red Gatto who got his name thanks to his mask and the auburn color of his hair, sat beside Llorón. Rojo wasted no time before sliding his hand beneath the silky white robe Llorónwore, which I knew for a fact belonged to Dion. The asshole loved walking around in it.

"Come here," I told my client before grabbing her hips and bringing her to my lap. "Much better, isn't it?" I bounced her a little until she was fully settled on my dick. While I was dressed in my all-black trademark clothes, she was in a bra and a tight pencil skirt that rose from her legs straddling my sides. Her laced panties rubbed against my clothed cock, and she was still soaking wet from earlier when I went down on her. What could I say? She paid well and tipped even better.

"It is," she giggled, and I moved her dark, curly hair away from her neck so I could kiss her there. She moaned when my lips sucked on her smooth skin, and with her head out of my way, I could finally look at my beautiful Llorónagain. Well, he wasn't mine, but he sure as fuck wished to be. The way he narrowed his eyes in my direction told me that, and I couldn't help but be turned on by this little show he did to get my attention.

By now, his robe was pulled down to his waist, revealing his tanned skin and pink, rosy nipples that looked fucking delicious. I had a woman on my lap with a beautiful pair of tits, yet I was more invested in his firm pecs and the way he moaned when Rojo sucked one of his nipples into his mouth. And as he did that, I noticed the bite mark on Llorón's neck and was surprised to find out how much it irritated me.

Grabbing her neck, I yanked my client's head back only so I could clash our mouths together in an aggressive kiss that was meant for him. Not her. A brutal kiss that released my anger over a small bruise on his neck.

Tearing our mouths apart, I came back to kiss her neck, but my full focus was on Llorónand how needy he looked with his sex-hazed gaze pinned on me.

"Fuck," I hissed because the sound of his moans reached my ears and made my cock throb.

"Oh," my client purred, looking between us at my obvious hard-on.

"Since you caused it, are you going to do something about it?" Even though it was a lie, there was nothing wrong with boosting her confidence. After all, she was my client, and my job was to make her satisfied.

Licking her lips, she nodded and then moved to sit on the floor. Spreading my legs, I gave her room and waited for her fingers to be done tangling with my zipper.

"That's a good girl," I drawled while stroking her cheek with my thumb as she pulled my cock out and gazed at it from underneath her mask. "Now, suck it like a slut, and make me come."

Her mask, which only hid the area around her eyes, made it easy for her to stretch her lips apart as she took my hard dick into her mouth. She gagged right away, which was disappointing, but I was too focused on Rojo's hand that was wrapped around Llorón'sgorgeous dick to care. Yes. I just used the word gorgeous to describe another man's dick. I was around pussy all the time, and never once did I find it arousing. It didn't repulse me, as it was a beautiful part of a woman's body, but it didn't appeal to me either. Perhaps I was gay all along? That was unlikely, considering I held zero interest in cocks. But then again, here I was, watching Llorón's magnificent dick getting milked by another man's hand, wishing it was my hand.

Looking up from his dick, I caught him staring back at me. Unspoken lust glistered in his brilliant eyes as his lips curved in a devilish smirk, and he mouthed the words, "Still not going to fuck me?"

Shaking my head, I mouthed a clear "No."

"Your loss." He shrugged and turned his head to the side, allowing Rojo to kiss his neck.

More aroused than I should have been for this sick situation, I jerked my hips and thrust my cock deeper into my client's mouth, making her choke on me. She liked it if her moans were any indication. And with the live porn happening before me, I wasn't far from coming. Throwing my head back, I closed my eyes and tried to zero down on the sensation of my dick being sucked. It was hard to focus because all I wanted to do was to continue watching Llorón.The problem was that was exactly what he wanted me to do. He was trying to prove a point, and I wasn't about to fall for it. He thought I was joking when I said no to playing games, and I wasn't, especially not with a dangerous player such as him.

But then a sound that came from their direction made me open my eyes in time to watch Llorón slipping to his knees between Rojo's spread legs and taking out his cock. What the hell is he doing? The idea of him getting on his knees for a nobody like Rojo stirred something dark inside of me, and my arousal was replaced with rage, even more so when he reached for his mask and took it off.

My breath hitched, and all I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears. Since he was with his back to me, I couldn't see his face, only his gold mane that reached his shoulders. The fact that he revealed his face to a random Gatto he'd just met a moment ago made me furious.

Once his head started to bob up and down, I'd had enough. Tangling my fingers in my client's hair, I forced her to go harder. She was a complete amateur and could hardly take half of me, but combined with the sounds coming from Llorón, it was enough.

Closing my eyes again, I imagined it was his mouth around my length, taking me to the back of his throat like I knew he could. Looking down, I'd see hollowed cheeks and eyes glistening with unshed tears. He'd beg for me to take my cock out and let him breathe, but I'd edge him just for another second—

"Fuck," I hissed as my orgasm hit me and pulled out right before spilling in her mouth. After helping her back to her feet and telling her she did good, my eyes went back to the person who I just came while thinking about.

With his mask already back on his face, he was sitting on the sofa, smiling like he knew what had just happened because of him. Fucking shit. I assumed he'd finished sucking Rojo while I was busy coming the hardest I had in a while, and all thanks to his little game.

He's going to pay—big-time.