Page 3 of Mafia Handbook

Chapter Two

“Did I deliver, or did I deliver?”

Bash watched as Gretchen, the property manager his partner Jamisson hired to locate their new office, waved her arms around the space.

“Brand new construction, lease applications lined up around the block for the floors below, and a view of the city worth every penny you paid.”

Bash knew the joy in Gretchen’s voice had more to do with the fat commission she’d made from her broker’s fee than helping his business open another branch. It was all a facade of course, a brick-and-mortar building to give the government a box to check when they were investigated before hiring them to take some asshole out.

“You did good, Darlin’.”

“Oh yeah?” Gretchen cooed. “Remind me what it is you do exactly?” Swaying her hips as she crossed the room toward him.

Bash remained in place, his arms crossed over his massive chest as he watched the woman who’d been shooting him ‘fuck me’ eyes all day approached him.

“Right now?” Bash smirked. “You,” he affirmed before picking up Gretchen off her feet, clearing the short distance to the closest desk and sitting her ass on the corner. Reaching into his pocket, Bash removed his wallet and the foil package tucked in one of the slits before tossing it to the floor at his feet.

“You sure you want to cross this line?” He’d learned from the best to gain consent before attempting anything with women, even one as vapid as Gretchen.

“No,” Gretchen dipped her eyes to the lone button securing Bash’s jeans, her tongue swiping across her glossy lips. “I want to decimate it.”

“Fair enough,” Bash shrugged, slipping his hand into the cup of Gretchen’s sheer bra, kneading her tit as the tip of her fingers found his cock.

“Holy shit,” Gretchen’s eyes lit up as she pulled him from his denim restraints. Shifting her focus from the swelling cock in her hand to the foil packet between Bash’s teeth.

“That’s not necessary.”

“Why’s that, Darlin’? You plan on sucking me off and then calling it a day?”

Leveling her gaze with his, “I mean you don't have to worry about me, I’m tested regularly and get the shot every three months like clockwork.” Having taken the liberty of an extensive background check on Bash, she’d learned of his extensive holdings. While she made a killing selling property, she wouldn’t mind taking an early retirement, allowing a man who looked as hot as Sebastian Kelly to take care of her.

Taking a measured step back, his hard cock slapping against his shirt-covered abs. “Don’t give a shit how many shots you take. You want me to fuck you, I wear one of these.”

It was Bash’s experience, women like Gretchen were the most dangerous to deal with. They knew their face value and became accustomed to men with means treating them to the finer things in life. While Bash wouldn't deny Gretchen was a beautiful woman, he had zero desire to be any bitch’s sugar daddy.

Leaning back on the desk, Gretchen spread her legs wide, pulling her thong to the side as she ran her fingers along the smooth skin of her lower lips. “I can assure you,” keeping her gaze trained on Bash as she spread herself open. “I’m as tight as you’ve ever felt.”

Bash could smell her arousal, see its presence on her glistening fingers. Still, no matter how bad he wanted to dive into Gretchen, his ego, the one character flaw he possessed, prevented it.

“Your call, Darlin’. Either you want me to fuck you or send you home.”

Biting her lower lip, Gretchen accepted the minor defeat, a new plan formulating inside her head as she motioned for him to proceed.

“Stand up,” Bash commanded in a low voice, slipping the latex over his engorged cock.

Gretchen wordlessly obeyed, unable to contain the anticipation of tasting his lips.

“Face the desk.” He beckoned, twirling his index finger in the direction he wanted her to turn.

Confused, Gretchen hesitated for a moment before complying, keeping her focus on him over her shoulder.

“Raise your skirt.”

A cocky grin coated Gretchen’s glossed lips as she disregarded his command. While she loved the alpha side of him, she needed Bash to know who was really in charge.

“Raise your fucking skirt, or you can put those fingers back in your cunt and get yourself off.”

Gretchen fumbled as she tried to move, her brain on overload from both the anger rising from his cockiness and how much it turned her the fuck on. With her hormones in the driver’s seat, she managed to lift her skirt a split-second before her chest collided with the desk.

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