“Tell me, Mr. Poe,” Cold purred, his eyes scanning over Jimmy’s body from head to toe, “do you want to... get me off?”
“I want to... do whatever keeps you from burning my fingers off,” Jimmy replied dumbly, not sure how to answer the question honestly.
“No, no, no,” Cold said, shaking his head, gesturing for Jules to release him. He slid his gloved fingers over the redness around Jimmy’s neck, lightly pressing down as he drew him close. His voice dropped even deeper, husky and seductive, slowly asking again, “Do you really... want to get me off?”
It wasn’t fair for anyone to sound that sexy, and Jimmy shivered all over from the cool leather touching his skin. Cold’s eyes were so pretty, and that smirk stretching out his lips was downright wicked. Of all the mob bosses in the world to give his body to, at least this one was ridiculously gorgeous.
Jimmy’s hands came up to instinctively rest on Cold’s wrists, and he nodded. “Yeah.”
Cold flinched at Jimmy’s touch, and Jules shifted uncomfortably behind him. Jimmy didn’t understand, but it felt like he had done something wrong. Cold didn’t move away, and Jules didn’t try to set him on fire again, so he remained as he was.
Cold leaned closer still, his eyes studying Jimmy’s lips while a gloved thumb slowly traced over his chin.
Lashes fluttering as his heart thumped heavily in his chest, Jimmy inhaled sharply. He didn’t know how to define this feeling, but the way Cold held his neck, firmly yet so tenderly, was making his knees weak.
Jimmy couldn’t recall any other time he had been so scared in his life. This man before him was a criminal, a murderer, and a monster. But there was something electric burning between them, a sensation that sent warmth down below his belt and made his mind glaze over. He was completely captivated, the adrenaline rushing through him causing every inch of his body to tingle in anticipation.
Jimmy didn’t know what was crazier; that Boss Cold might be about to kiss him, or that he actually wanted him to.
“Let’s have a little chat, Mr. Poe,” Cold said, breaking the spell as he released him and strolling back into the living room. He beckoned Jimmy to follow with a finger, Jules grabbing him by his shoulders and pushing him along.
“Here’s the deal,” Cold announced, stretching across the sofa like before, his feet now finding their place on the coffee table. “Because I am such a benevolent criminal, I’ve decided to accept your offer. Let’s say, eight hours a night? From nine o’clock in the evening until five o’clock in the morning you will belong to me. Since you told me that you lost your job, I’m sure you have oodles of free time.”
Shoved down into the recliner by Jules, Jimmy stared awkwardly at Cold as he listened to his demands. His pulse was still racing away, but it was easier to stay focused when the gangster wasn’t so close. “O-okay.”
“For services rendered, I will pay you ten thousand dollars a night,” Cold continued, a smug smirk playing over his lips. “If you happen to exceed my expectations, I reserve the right to give you a bonus. Let’s say, another five thousand? But, should you be disappointing or displease me at any time, I will end the deal and penalize you another hundred thousand dollars.”
Jimmy thought he might throw up. What the fuck was he getting himself into? This was a huge risk. Even if he managed to please Cold every night, it would take almost a month to pay off what he owed. And if he screwed up? He’d be ruined, and Jules would certainly turn him into barbecue.
He anxiously rubbed a hand through his hair, nails scratching at the back of his neck. “What... what uh, what do you want me to do?”
“Whatever I want,” Cold drawled, laughing softly. “That’s what you offered, remember? I can promise you that I won’t do anything that would cause any lasting damage... but remember, you must obey my every order, or the deal is off.”
Jimmy licked his lips, wishing he could see another way to get himself out of this. He had no idea what a man like Cold might ask of him, but he had to accept the risk. He had no other choice. “When do you want me to—”
“Tonight,” Cold replied immediately. “Think of it... as a test run. Take you for a spin before I decide to buy.” He stood up, gracefully strolling over to Jimmy and handing him a small business card. “Here.”
It was for the Wynne Hotel, a large and swanky establishment downtown. “At the desk, ask for Thomas Frost’s room. They’ll send you right up.” He stroked a gloved hand over Jimmy’s cheek, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he said, “Nine o’clock. Don’t be late.”
Jimmy could only nod, staring up at the beautiful gangster as he pulled away, him and Jules departing. The door shut and even though Jimmy was expecting it, the sound still made him jump.
“Holy crap,” he said, panting erratically. He was still full of adrenaline and had nowhere to put it, getting to his feet and starting to clean the apartment. He matched socks and folded his threadbare towels; he washed dishes and scrubbed his counters. He couldn’t sit still, collapsing back in his recliner and cradling his face when he was finally exhausted.
He started doing the math in his head again, rubbing the back of his neck.
Jimmy owed over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
At ten thousand dollars a night, that meant at least twenty-five nights, probably twenty-six, to completely clear his debt.
The bonuses would certainly help, but God knew what it would take to earn one. He had to worry about pleasing Boss Cold and obeying his every order without having any idea what might be asked of him. He should assume the worst, but Jimmy was actually intrigued. He’d never been brave enough to be very adventurous in the bedroom before.
Maybe this would be educational, he tried to tell himself hopefully. Maybe he would even enjoy it. He hadn’t had a boyfriend or a girlfriend in a very long time. The company of his own hand had been the only outlet for stress relief for a while now.
Although intimidating, Cold was very handsome, and Jimmy caught himself wondering what could be hiding under all those layers of clothing. He’d find out soon enough, daydreaming about rippling pecs and washboard abs. He used his precious eighty-six dollars and nineteen cents to order a small pizza, the highlight of a very crappy day, leaving him with fifty-six dollars and eighty-four cents to get a cab downtown.
Even though working for Cold was going to take care of his debt to him, it still wasn’t going to feed him or pay his rent. He had to find another job. Gobbling up the pizza, he flipped through the classifieds in search of employment. As a college drop-out with a checkered job history, his prospects were limited to retail and customer service. He began to lose track of the time, making a list of stores to visit tomorrow and hopefully find a place that would be willing to pay him in advance.
By the time he looked at the clock, it was already a few minutes past eight.
