2. Nico

Chapter 2

Nico

Holy fucking shit – I wasn’t expecting this .

This was meant to be a friendly visit to arrange some contractual details and get everything signed and sealed for my bosses.

What it wasn’t meant to be was a full-on, all guns blazing shootout where the only way you’re going home is either alive or dead inside a body bag.

‘Latorro, cover me!’ I shout.

With the cover of machine gun fire, I roll out from behind the warehouse storage units and scurry across to the opposite side of the warehouse.

I need to find the vantage point that will let me take out the sonofabitch who set us up today.

This has gone way beyond any kind of negotiation.

This is kill or be killed.

And if that’s what I’m dealing with, then there’s no way I’m about to let myself be the chump who gets killed.

I’m Nico Costacurta.

In my twenty-seven years on this planet, I’ve never backed down to a rival once. I wouldn’t even let my older brother push me around, no matter how much bigger and stronger than me he was – and yeah, that did mean I took a few beatings from him as a kid!

But backing down is something that Mafia men simply don’t do.

I know the risks involved in my life as a junior Mafia boss.

Every day might be my last – and I’ve come close to death on more occasions than I can even remember at this point.

I may have dark brown eyes and chestnut brown hair to match, but my blood runs a cold, icy blue color – pressure and panic simply don’t apply to me.

To many people, I’m a closed book.

I don’t do emotion and I don’t like spilling my heart to people.

I keep my emotions in check and let my gun do the talking.

Maybe that’s why I have so many tattoos on my body. This might be my way of telling my story without having to resort to the whole soppy Oprah Winfrey life story bullshit.

A map of Sicily to honor my heritage.

A single pistol bullet to remember that one shot is all it takes.

A heart wrapped in a rose for… well, that’s just my hopeful romantic side – and yeah, I do have one of those too.

I might be a notorious hitman and rising Mafia boss, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want love in my life.

Daddies aren’t exactly traditional, and seeing as the Mafia is typically a very traditional and old school organization, I have kept my identity close to my chest.

What I truly need in my life is a boy to care for, to play with, and to give every single inch of my love to.

But meeting a boy in the city isn’t easy – well, not the kind of boy who I want to settle down with anyway.

Hanging out in clubs and having a quick connection isn’t what I’m all about. I know that I could go to a club and hook up with some random boy pretty much any night of the week I wanted – but that’s no good to me.

Sure, it’s great to spank a fresh pair of ass cheeks.

And it feels great to have your cock sucked by a submissive boy every now and then.

But I want that deeper connection.

I might only be twenty-seven but given the nature of my day to day life I feel like an old head on young shoulders.

I’ve seen and experienced things that most people wouldn’t in an entire lifetime. I want to settle down and have a boy by my side who I can trust and share the simple things in life with.

And the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve come to one simple conclusion…

I want an older boy.

Young boys are fine, don’t get me wrong. I’m not going to lie and say a slim and fit twenty-one-year-old doesn’t have a definite appeal.

But… I want a cuddly, older boy who knows what he likes and has the life experience to handle whatever I throw at him.

‘Yo, Nico! Wake the fuck up! We’re getting rained on here!’ Latorro shouts, clearly pissed off by my inaction.

‘Relax buddy, I’m waiting for the… right… moment!’ I roar, springing out from behind the cover and taking down three guys in quick succession, my accuracy with the gun at pretty much Olympic levels.

‘Up on the mezzanine,’ Latorro bellows. ‘Dude’s got a motherfucking canon on his shoulder!’

Holy shit, Latorro isn’t kidding.

I glance up at the metallic mezzanine across on the other side of the warehouse and see a gnarled gangster with what looks like a God damned rocket launcher on his shoulder.

And worse – the rocket launcher appears to be aimed squarely in my direction.

This could be the moment when the lights go out for me.

It might be my last dance.

But… I’ve got too much to live for.

I’ll know when my time to die comes, and it ain’t going to be today – I’ve only recently registered for a dating app called OlderLittles.com for one thing!

‘Time to die asshole!’ I bellow, juking and rolling out from the other side of my new cover position and aiming my gun directly at the chump with the rocket launcher.

I know this needs to be a headshot if I’m to stand any chance.

For a moment, time stands still.

But this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been in this position before.

A Zen calm comes over me as I watch the rocket launcher thug take a bullet square between his eyes. His brain function immediately eviscerated, he lets go of the rocket launcher and plummets off the mezzanine and down onto the ground below.

‘Looks like the rocket man won’t be orbiting tonight,’ I say, shooting a look over to Latorro and my other associates. ‘Good work guys.’

‘These sonsofbitches tried to ambush us,’ Latorro says, inspecting a large open gash on his cheek.

‘Sure did,’ I reply, a knowing look on my face. ‘Something’s up, and I think it’s probably safe to say that Luca Conte is involved somewhere along the line. Whatever. Now’s not the time. We need to bounce before the Feds decide to make an appearance.’

‘Yup, time to bounce, brother,’ Latorro says. ‘You want to hit the bar with us, Nico?’

‘Not this time, brother,’ I reply. ‘Call me the oldest twenty-seven-year-old in the world, but I need some real relaxation. If I hit a bar now, I know I won’t be back home until 6:00AM tomorrow.’

We all laugh as we make our way out of the warehouse.

I take a left down a side alley and quickly jump inside my blacked-out SUV.

‘I am beat ,’ I say, the adrenalin rush from taking out the rocket launcher guy beginning to subside. ‘But not so beat I don’t feel like checking out some cute boys…’

I recline in the plush driver’s seat of my SUV and whip my cell phone out of my pocket. It’s time to hit the OlderLittles.com app and see who I’ve been matched with.

A lot can happen in the real world during a full-on warehouse shootout, so I might just be in luck…

‘ Hmmm . Hot. Hot. Not bad. Okay. Hot. Pass. Decent. Hot…’ I say, casually scrolling through the various boys who have been matched to me.

I could imagine myself bending over any one of these boys in truth, but this isn’t just about a quick hookup.

I’ve always been a Daddy Dom.

My instinct is to dominate, to control, to care for – oh, and to turn ass cheeks a serious shade of red too!

I guess where I’m different to many Daddies is that I want an older, fuller-bodied boy to nurture and discipline where required. So far, OlderLittles.com is giving me some nice options, but nothing that is giving me that all-consuming whoa-Daddy kinda feeling…

‘Wait… who the holy hell is he ?’ I say, nearly dropping my phone in shock and excitement. ‘ChubbyCupcake01… I need to meet you. I need to get my hands on those sweet, meaty cheeks.’

With short blonde hair and eyes as blue as a tropical lagoon, ChubbyCupcake01 is my kinda boy – and even better, he’s online now.

And even though I’m fresh from a shootout and I can hear the sound of police sirens in the distance, I’m going to message this sweet package of Little sexiness right here and now…

DangerousDaddy911: You look good enough to eat…

ChubbyCupcake01: Which part? ;)

DangerousDaddy911: I can think of at least a couple of places. Tell me, have you been a naughty boy? You sound like you’re capable of mischief, that’s for sure…

ChubbyCupcake01: Maybe we should meet, and you can interrogate me?

DangerousDaddy911: Send me your location and I’m there, boy.

ChubbyCupcake01: Done. If you get here fast enough I’ll have something sweet and squidgy for you to feast on…

DangerousDaddy911: Boy, be careful what you wish for. I might just be too much for you to handle.

ChubbyCupcake01: I think I’m a big enough boy to handle anything you can give me…

DangerousDaddy911: Grrrrrrr. See you in fifteen.

Before I can even think about sending any more messages, the sound of blazing cop sirens is getting closer. I might be well hidden down this side alley, but the smart move is to get me and my SUV the hell out of here as quickly as I can.

And even if it wasn’t for the impending arrival of the Feds, I’ve got one cute as all hell baby boy to meet…

‘So this is the place,’ I say, pulling my SUV up and parking it on the side of the road opposite East Side Sugar. ‘Cute. Real fuckin’ cute.’

I’m not exactly a connoisseur of shop fronts or bakeries, but there’s no denying that the brightly painted signage and sweet cottage-style windows are a good look for a bakery.

‘Did I die in the shootout and wake up in some kind of fairytale?’ I say as I spot the line of extra-large gingerbread men in the shopfront window. ‘Whatever. There could be a super-sized wolf ready to eat me in there, but as long as this boy is as hot in real life as he is online, I’ll battle any beast to make him mine.’

Before leaving my SUV, I send a message over to my senior boss to let him know my concerns about what went down at the warehouse.

Luca Conte is a dangerous motherfucker and I’ve been saying for a long time that he needs to be dealt with – and when I say dealt with, I ain’t talking about a friendly sit-down discussion at Mario’s Mochas.

But all that shit can wait.

Now isn’t the time to be thinking about business rivals and scumbags.

I’m here to check out ChubbyCupcake01 and see if his cake is really good enough to eat…

I jump out of the SUV and make my way across the road.

Fuck the traffic – the cars can stop for me.

They know from my swagger that I’m Mafia.

And it’s with this confidence that I walk into Easy Side Sugar and scan my eyes across the place. Call it force of habit, but anytime I’m somewhere new I always have to make a quick check for threats and also clock the escape routes too.

All clear.

So why is my heart suddenly beating so hard?

‘DangerousDaddy911?’ the boy says, looking angelic but with a side serving of mischievous as he walks toward me in his pink t-shirt, apron, and cute dimpled smile.

‘Yup, but you can call me Nico,’ I reply. ‘Now are you going to be a good boy and tell me your real name too?’

‘Eddie,’ the boy replies. ‘Here, this is your cake…’

I don’t normally eat sugary snacks, but I can’t deny that this looks out of this world. This ain’t no ordinary cupcake…

Three layers.

Multi-colored frosting.

A strawberry slice on top.

I’m blown away that the boy has made this especially for me and it’s only right that I tell him that too…

‘I won’t lie, this is fucking outrageously tasty,’ I say, taking a bit of the cupcake. ‘Someone needs to give you a Cupcake Oscar.’

‘I don’t think there’s an Oscar for making cupcakes, silly!’ Eddie replies, blushing.

‘Easy boy, don’t make me spank you right here on the shopfloor,’ I growl, before then taking another bit of the sweet treat. ‘I’ve spanked boys for way less sass. But… this cupcake is so God damned incredible I’ll give you a pass this time.’

The boy’s blushing and looks like he knows I mean business.

That’s a good sign, and to be honest I like a boy with plenty of sass in his armory – especially an older boy who knows he can handle a real butt warming too.

‘So, what would you score my cupcake out of ten?’ Eddie says, knowing full well that I’ve enjoyed ever last bite of his cake.

‘It’s… a hard ten out of ten for me,’ I reply, unable to keep up my tough guy routine. ‘And the cake wasn’t too bad either.’

I can see that Eddie appreciates the compliment – and I’m not even exaggerating either.

‘How about we sit for a few minutes?’ I say, casting a look over to the bakery manager. ‘If that’s good with you, boss?’

‘Sure, no problem at all,’ the boss fires back at me, a smile on his face. ‘You two take all the time you need.’

With that, I take Eddie by the hand and we walk outside the bakery and take a seat on the bench to the side of the bakery.

‘I’m going to keep the bullshit to a minimum,’ I say. ‘I won’t mess you around or play any games. I think I want to see you again. Soon.’

I wait for the boy to respond.

I can see that his mind is working at a million miles per hour.

And I hope he’s on the same page as me…

‘I’d like that too,’ Eddie replies. ‘I think I’d like that a lot .’

‘Good,’ I say, feeling in my intuition that the boy wants me to take control. ‘You’ll bring your ass to Shakers Bar at 8PM. Do not be late. I expect good timekeeping. Every minute of tardiness will be met with a healthy dose of corrective discipline.’

‘Y-y-y-yes, D…. Daddy,’ Eddie replies. ‘I’ll be on time. You can count on that.’

‘That’s what I like to hear, baby boy,’ I reply, placing my hand on Eddie’s soft, juicy thigh. ‘We’ll have fun. I can promise you that. And something tells me that we’re on the same page as each other. We matched on a lot of kinks too…’

‘We certainly did,’ Eddie replies, his cheeks flushing bright red as he no doubt imagines the kinds of things we could be getting up to together sooner rather than later.

But whatever the boy thinks we might be doing, I would bet my biggest diamond haul that he’s got no idea just how wild I can be when the lights dim and my true Daddy Dom side comes out to play…