Rocco scowled as he slouched toward his boss’s office, his broad, powerful shoulders hunched, his cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers, almost entirely unsmoked, a long column of untasted ash. He was wearing the tight-fitting black shirt and black skinny pants which were standard in the mob, and a black cap was pulled down over his eyes. It was obvious that he was tired, unhappy and not at all willing to be given his eighth job in as many days. It was time for his break. But working for Pippie, you couldn’t say that. If he had a job for you, you did it, simple as that. And you didn’t laugh at his name.
“Hey Pippie,” Rocco said, trying to mask his irritation.
“Rocco! Got a good one for you this time – got ourselves a man who’s skipped out on his debt. Don’t worry, took care of him already. Want you to go collect it from his pretty widow. Any means necessary, you know?”
Rocco asked the only questions he needed to know.
“Where and when?”
Stella poured water onto the roses without seeing what she was doing. Since Roger had disappeared, she had been angry and lost. She didn’t miss him – it had been a long time since their marriage was anything more than convenience, and she wasn’t convinced that she had ever really cared for him – she had just been seduced by the enormous estate, his shiny car and the beautiful rose garden. She had thought that he was a man who would be able to provide for her and make her comfortable, and it hadn’t really seemed to matter that there was passion lacking in the relationship.
Now that he had disappeared, she was mostly angry because he had left her with all of this responsibility – she had no income, she couldn’t even afford to pay a gardener – and she didn’t really know what to do. She knew her husband was hugely in debt to some mob – and she hated the feeling of waiting, always expecting something terrible to happen. More than that, she was lonely. She longed for the touch of a man, his broad arms wrapped around her, the sort of pleasure that made every care drop away.
“Mrs McGourvey?” a deep, slightly wary voice spoke from behind her, and she dropped her watering can in shock, cold water gushing out onto her sandal-clad feet.
Turning around, her eyes widened – first in fear, then in amazement. Dressed all in tight-fitting black, his eyes dark, his skin lightly tanned, and a black hat pulled down to shade his face partially from view, it was clear he was the very thing she had been fearing. But she had been expecting four burly, gruff, greasy men with dirty hands and gold teeth. She hadn’t expected someone young and, quite frankly, attractive. He had the sort of lean but muscular body she liked, broad across the shoulders with a slender dancer’s waist, long, perfectly toned legs and she was sure that if he turned around the black jeans would display an absolutely scrumptious ass. His face was not mean-looking, just tired, and his eyes had a dark innocence to them which she found compelling. His lips were thin but pleasantly shaped. She found herself unreasonably drawn to him.
In turn, Rocco was astonished at the ‘widow’ before him. He had expected a stringy old aristocrat with a turkey neck and a hysterical scream. Instead, a pretty young woman in a summery floral dress which just almost skimmed her knees stood before him, her eyes wide with fear and… another inscrutable expression. Her figure was exceptional – her legs were shapely, the skin creamy smooth. Rocco longed to see the entire expanse of her satin thighs, cursing the sensible length of her dress. The material hugged curvy hips and a slim waist, and a peek of her ample breasts showed where the neckline dipped just a little. Her lips were plump and red, her face round and youthful with a peaches and cream complexion, and her hair was the color of honey.
A frission passed between them as their eyes met, and both felt the other’s attraction. Stella couldn’t help but compare this tall, attractive man with his dark looks and slim, toned figure with her older, gingery husband with his once strong physique already turning to fat. There was no doubt in her mind who she would rather have in her bed.
“Are you Mrs McGourvey?” the man asked again, his deep masculine voice raising goose bumps on her arms.
“Stella,” she said, folding her arms in a way which pushed her breasts upwards, enhancing her cleavage in a manner he did not fail to observe. “I suppose you are here about my husband?”
“He owes my boss a lot of money,” Rocco admitted.
“Well,” said Stella, whose thoughts were only half on her husband’s debt, “we’d better go inside.”
Rocco followed her indoors, his eyes fixed on her voluptuous backside as her hips swayed gently. She let him in through the conservatory door and led him into what must have been her husband’s library – it was lined with shelves and shelves of books, some of which were only accessible by a ladder, which was hooked to a pole at ceiling level, allowing it to slide around the circumference of the room. In the center of the room were several plush sofas, and off to one side, mounted on a plinth, was a grand piano, sheet music still sitting in the stand. Rocco wondered if she played, and found his cock twitching at the thought of her curvy figure seated at the piano, delicate fingers caressing the keys. He tried not to imagine those same fingers stroking down his chest, or going lower, curling themselves around his straining length, slowly moving up and down, jerking him off.
Stella hid a smile as she saw the blush creeping up Rocco’s cheeks and the clenching of his fist. She knew that he found her just as alluring as she did him, and she didn’t anticipate having any real trouble on this occasion about her husband’s debt. Even so, she kept up the pretense.
“I don’t have any money,” she told him. “My husband took everything he still had and ran. If it’s just money you’re here for, I can’t help you.”
Rocco wondered if he had imagined the insinuation, and the slight smirk ghosting her plump, pretty lips suggested that maybe he hadn’t.
“My boss sent me to collect. Pippie doesn’t like to go away empty handed,” he said.
“Pippie?” Stella repeated in amusement. “Mobs certainly don’t have the same intimidation factor now as they did in the old days.”
Rocco, instead of being angry that she was mocking him, found himself admiring her spirit. Most women in this situation would simply do everything they were told, but she was gently teasing him. It made him want her all the more.
“I think I can be plenty intimidating for you,” he said, pulling a grim face and folding his arms.
“I’m intimidated,” Stella said, her body immediately shrinking away from him, her eyes getting wide and pleading. “I’d do anything I could to pay the debt – anything! Although I don’t have any money, so if that’s all you want, I don’t know what to do!”
Rocco was sure she was playing it up a little bit. She was obviously an intelligent woman, but her vulnerable figure, so frail and fragile in her thin summer dress, her slender arms wrapped around her body, made him feel powerful.
“There are other ways,” he admitted. “If you don’t have money, you can give me something else you have to offer.”
“I can only think of one thing,” Stella said, a thrill of anticipation coursing through her as she met Rocco’s eyes. She took her arms away from her body and slowly undid the zip on the back of her dress, letting it slide off her, shimmying her hips until she was clothed in nothing but a white lace bra and matching panties, the picture of youthful, voluptuous innocence, but with a look of seduction on her face which promised that she knew exactly what she was doing.
Stella could see that Rocco was tempted. His eyes were fixed on the swell of her breasts, the dramatic line of her waist, and the curve of her thighs as they met at her crotch, her smooth, shaved pussy visible through the skimpy lace of her underwear.
“You can do anything you want to me,” she said seductively, “if you’ll accept my body as currency.”
Her own daring was turning her on, along with the hungry way Rocco was observing her. She wanted him to take her, and she wanted it to be edgy, exciting, hot and demanding. She wanted to feel him dominating her.
“I’ve been a bad girl, though,” she added. “I owe you a lot of money. I think you’re going to need to punish me a little.”