Mafia Boss's Secret Wife

Chapter 2: Private room

As the gunshots pierce through the night, I tense even more and Thomas’s grip on me tightens as well. His gray eyes are pinned on my face as I try to get the hang of what was happening. Why were we standing here like idiots? Why were we not running away

“Tsk!” Karina clicks her tongue, embarrassed, as she grabs me and pulls me free from the man’s grip. “I think someone forgot to read the program for the evening.” Karina huffs, and bows her head to the man whose eyes still follow me with the same sternness. “Excuse us, mister Bechtel. We’ll get back to work-“

The man opens his mouth to say something, but he is cut short by the voice on the microphone who is calling for him. It seemed that I forgot the father’s speech… and that the old Bechtel liked to fire his gun before making an appearance.

Thomas seems to tense a little before he turns on his heels and walks away. The 31st birthday of this man seemed to be boring in his opinion, and part of me felt guilty.

“Get a hold of yourself!” Karina gives me a good shake as I am left staring at the man whose back disappears into the crowd.

She grabs my hand and puts a pill in it.

“Here. Have some and relax.” She urges me to swallow it and gives me her glass of champagne. “Now come on. We’re on right after the speech.” She insists.

I swallow the pills in a mindless haze. I was half aware that she had just given me some drugs, but I was also too stressed and anxious to deny something that would help me relax.

Only, it did not relax me much. Somehow, despite the energy boost and the overall good mood, I feel a bit paranoid. It feels as if everywhere I look, he’s there. Staring right back at me, with those gray eyes of his, with his almost perfectly proportioned face, with high cheekbones and sunken in cheek, with bitten fleshy lips and that hungry look in his eyes that sent shivers down my spine.

He was watching me from everywhere around the room, and I wanted to blame the drugs for it, but when I got off the stage, he was waiting for me there. One of his hands is extended towards me, waiting for me to lay mine in there. I pause, but from behind, someone pushes me forward and I end up stumbling forward and crashing right against him. If it weren’t for the strong tobacco and whiskey smell that invaded my lungs, I’d be sure I just walked into a wall.

“I’ll see you later!” Karina’s giggle fades.

“Ass.” I whisper as I slowly straighten myself and take a step back in a hurry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bechtel-“ i hurry to speak, avoiding his eyes.

There was a sliver of fear that gripped my heart, along with the heat that has built in within my lower half of the body and the fuzzy thoughts I had around his figure.

“Call me Thomas.” He offers in that monotone voice of his.

Is this man even capable of showing emotions?

“Thomas.” I nod gently. “I swear I am not as clumsy as I let off!” I joke, with a bit of shame that tugs at my chest.

“I’m sure you aren’t.” He admits just as plain as earlier. “Have a drink with me, will you?”

When Thomas asks you to do something, you can’t just say no, can you?

“I’m sorry, Thomas. There is -“

“It’s my birthday and since you haven’t brought me any gifts, I will consider this my gift.” He interrupts me, his gray eyes darkening lightly as they narrow on my figure.

Right… I was at the whim of a spoiled brat. How could I forget that?

“Right.” I nod, keeping the smile on my face, ignoring the aura of danger and darkness that surrounds him.

He gestures for me to follow him, and I breathe in deeply. As he turns, my smile falters, replaced by worry. Maybe Joshua was right. Maybe I should not have accepted this gig.

We walk through the crowd, a few steps appart. I follow in silence, holding my dress so I don’t step on it. Gods knew it was difficult to dance in long dresses, but right now, even walking seemed difficult.

We exit the ballroom and before I muster the courage to ask, he opens the doors of a private room. He keeps the door open for me and waits for me to step inside. I feel both intrigued and repulsed by what I think he is trying to do, but nevertheless, I walk past him, making sure to add a bit of an extra swing of my hips as I enter the room.

I can feel his eyes on my back, as he follows and he closes the door.

The room is dimly lit. There is a large and comfortable looking couch and a coffee table in front of it. I stop as I notice on the table a bunch of papers and a pen on top of them. Before I can turn around and ask anything, I feel a warm hand brush over my arm, sliding slowly from my shoulder, to my forearm, while he steps closer, his chest brushing away my back. His face leans closer to my neck and I can feel his warm breath brush against my skin, making my whole body fill with a well known heat and longing.

“What’s all this about?” I gather my scattered thoughts, my voice a little shaky.

“What do you think this is all about?” He answers, his lips incredibly close to my ear, his voice low and husky.

A shaky breath escapes me, my heart fluttering in my chest. How long has it been since a man touched me properly? Why do his shameless hads make me crave more? He gathers my hair and pushes it slowly over one of my shoulders, revealing my bare back to him. I can feel his fingers brush against my spine in a feathery way, sending shivers all over my body, all my sane thoughts melting away with his touch.

“This is not what you’re paying me for.” I rasp out, my head moving to the side, as I look at him with the corner of my eyes. I can see a smirk curling on his lips. His finger pinch my chin and he forces my head backwards, so I can look at him. He is a towering figure above me, his face looming above mine, making me small. Much smaller than I already was beside him.

“What if I am?” He asks, his thumb brushing roughly over my lower lip, smearing my lipstick. “What If the papers i front of you are documents that could solve every problem of yours -“

“A paper can’t solve my problems -“ I protest breathlessly, my foggy mind consumed by his gray eyes.

“But a billion of them can, can’t they?” His free hand moves over my stomach, up to the generous cleavage of my dress.

“You want to buy me …” I realize, my eyes trailing to his lips, igniting a lustful flame inside of me. His bitten lips, looking all rough and dry.. fleshy and oh! so kissable.

“I know I can buy you.” He answers with confidence. “Just name your price -“

“Oh, Tommy~” I purr from the tip of my tongue, pressing my ass against his obvious boner, my arms snaking up , wrapping around him, my fingers tangling into his hair.

He bucks against my ass, cupping one of my breasts and giving it a rough squeeze, his other arm wrapping around me, pressing me harshly against his body.

“ A woman who respects herself won’t sell her body.” I humm, tugging at his hair, earning myself a low threatening growl as I bring my lips close to his ear. “I’ll f**k you because I want to, not because you put a price on my pussy.” I whisper against his ear, before catching the lobe between my lips and giving it a soft nibble.

“I’m not touching you unless you sign those papers!” He growls, his voice raspy, filled with heat.

“Well, then what are you doing now?” I mock him, bringing my hand on top of the one that still massages my breast, guiding it to slide under the material of the dress.

He doesn’t protest. To no surprise, he eagerly grasps my breast, pinching the n****e between his fingers. A long, soft moan escapes me, my eyes closing as I melt against his rough hands.

“You need the money.” He whispers, voice steady and confident. “Your moth-“

“Don’t ruin the mood, you fool!” I press against his boner and hiss through gritted lips. “I don’t need your money! I’ll f**k you because I can, not because I’m some desperate i***t!” I pull away from him roughly.

The lack of his warmth makes me feel a little fidgety. I turned to him sharply, my eyes narrowed, my lips pressed into a thin line.

“I’m not some merch you can just buy.” I hiss at him, scolding him with a raised finger, my other hand resting on my hip. “I am a woman and I respect myself! If you seek to get between my legs, you should treat me as such!” I huff.

Thomas slowly straightens himself with a slight amusement written on his face. There is a degrading spark in his eyes and I should have guessed this was what it was all about. He was nothing but a degrading pervert! I groan and roll my eyes, fixing the strap of my dress and stomping towards the door, not before I grab the papers, rip them apart, and toss them right at him.

But before I can even touch the knob, he grabs me from behind and tosses me right on the couch. I stumble backwards and fall on my back, my breath kicked right out of my chest.

“Respect you say?” He speaks in a mocking voice, as he takes off his coat and unbuttons his vest and shirt all the way down to his pants. “Isn’t that something you earn?” The mischievous smirk on his face widdens and my heart skips a beat.

I might have f****d up…