Jimmy Poe counted it all out, staring down at the money on his counter in dismay. It wasn’t enough, not even close.
He’d lost his job at the grocery store that morning because he’d been over an hour late for the third time already that week. Sixteen out of the twenty days he was scheduled to work this month he’d either been late or called off.
Too many absences, too many tardies, his manager had told him. He was fired.
Jimmy had begged, desperate for one more chance. He’d been meeting with his father’s attorney to hopefully get a new trial soon and lost track of time. It would never happen again, not ever, he’d pleaded.
His manager was not moved in the slightest, giving him his last check and quickly showing him the door. Defeated and sullen, Jimmy had cashed the measly check and returned home only to find more bad news awaited him.
Rent was overdue, had been for some time, and an eviction notice greeted him on his apartment door. He lightly banged his head against the frame, groaning loudly and fighting back a wave of tears. Today had easily been one of the worst days of his entire life.
And he still had one more errand to run, the worst one of all.
He had to go explain why he couldn’t make a payment this month to his loan shark. Considering he hadn’t paid last month, well, he didn’t expect the conversation to go very well.
Now, staring at his eighty-six dollars and nineteen cents, he sighed miserably, then looked about his tiny apartment with a sad frown. He’d already pawned anything of value weeks ago to buy groceries. He didn’t even own a television anymore, much less a cell phone. He’d checked his ratty sofa twice for loose change and even down in between the cushions of his recliner.
He was so fucked.
Jimmy scraped the money off the counter, every last penny, and carefully tucked it all away into his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he headed out to see Maury, praying he’d find him in a generous mood.
Maurice Martine was a shark with a legendary reputation. Maury the Mouth, people called him, known for being quite chatty and for his long, wide lips. Once upon a time, he’d also been known to be pretty fierce with a crowbar if payment didn’t arrive in a timely manner.
In his golden years now, he was a tad tamer, and Jimmy had known him since he was a child. Maury was still a bit rough around the edges, but he was the only friend Jimmy had.
Maury had been the only one to support him after his father was arrested, the only other person who believed he was innocent.
It was a shock to find Maury nearly in tears and wringing his hands when Jimmy arrived at his downtown pawn shop. “Hey, kid. We gotta talk.”
“Look, I know I’m a tiny bit behind,” Jimmy said, biting his lip anxiously, “but I can give you like twenty bucks? Maybe thirty? I’ve just gotta make sure I can get some ramen or something while I look for another job and—”
“Thirty bucks? Come the fuck on, kid!” Maury groaned, smacking Jimmy upside the back of his head. “You’re supposed to pay me a grand a month! Thirty is a fuckin’ joke!”
“Ow!” Jimmy yelped, rubbing his scalp where Maury had popped him. He pouted, protesting, “Hey, I’m really trying!”
“Listen, kid,” Maury said, still visibly upset. “Listen fuckin’ good. Cold’s bought me out. The whole block. I can’t… I can’t gives you no more extensions. He wants his money, and he wants it now.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened, his breath seizing in his throat.
Better known as Boss Cold, a mob ruler who owned practically every inch of Strassen Springs. Ruthless, savage, and too smart for the cops to ever pin anything on him, whether drugs, gambling, whatever. If it was illegal, it didn’t happen within city limits without his blessing.
“But… it’s…” Jimmy gawked, quickly doing the math in his head. “I owe you over a hundred thousand dollars! I-I don’t have it! You’ve been letting me make payments for months! I’ve been trying!”
“No, kid.” Maury shook his head, sighing heavily. “Try a quarter of a million bucks. Cold’s hit all outstanding accounts with a penalty. You gotta pay up, or he’s gonna start breaking bones. Okay?”
Jimmy felt faint, his head shaking frantically. “I don’t… I don’t have anything.” Tears were fighting to escape as he collapsed on Maury’s rickety sofa and held his face in his hands. Despair was taking over, a breath away from sobbing as he gasped, “I already sold my car last year, I just lost my job, I’m about to be evicted from my apartment. I don’t even have a hundred dollars to my name. I have absolutely nothing.”
Maury twisted his fingers anxiously, saying, “Well… there is something.”
“How much do you know about Boss Cold?”
“Not much,” Jimmy said, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Uhhh… he was a captain in the Luchesi family, that’s when he got the nickname Cold. Then he broke off and started his own gang, ran the Luchesis all off, took over.”
“I haven’t exactly looked him up on Wikipedia, Maury,” Jimmy mumbled.
“He’s gay,” Maury whispered in a hushed tone, glancing around as if someone actually might be listening to their conversation. He looked triumphant, as if somehow this revelation solved the problem.
“So?” Jimmy held out his hands, not making the connection.
“So you’re one of them multi-sexuals, right?”
Jimmy flushed, stammering, “Y-yeah, I’m bisexual, still not understanding what any of this has to do with me owing Boss Cold an absurd amount of money.”
Maury came over and sat down next to Jimmy, the sofa squeaking in complaint from the added weight. “There’s a rumor, okay, that Cold will let people work off their debt,” he said excitedly. “You get me?”
Jimmy stared dumbly, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“You work it off by gettin’ him off, okay?”
“Oh, God! No!” Jimmy was instantly aghast, shaking his head. What Maury was suggesting was prostitution. He felt dirty all over even thinking about it. “I-I can’t do that!”
“Kid, you’re real pretty, and right now that’s the only fuckin’ thing you got goin’ for you. When Cold’s people come lookin’ for their money, I gotta know what to tell them.”
“You tell them, you tell them to give me more time!” Jimmy pleaded, reaching for Maury’s hands. “Please, Maury. I can’t, I can’t whore myself out like that. Crap, I just… I can’t do it.”
“Kid, this is probably your only chance,” Maury insisted, patting Jimmy’s hand. “I’ve known your family a long time. Your old man used to fix up my kids whenever they had a runny nose or a fever, wouldn’t take a dime. That’s s’why when you came to me for help, I helped, but—”
“Then help me now!” Jimmy cried, frantic and angry.
“I fuckin’ can’t help you no more,” Maury snapped, frustrated. “This is gonna end one of two ways, kid. Either on your back in Cold’s bed or on your back in your fuckin’ coffin.” He stood up, brushing away Jimmy’s hands, snorting, “You pick.”
Eighty-six dollars and nineteen cents.
Jimmy kept counting it out in his head, sniffing softly. “I don’t know, I just… I don’t know what to do.”
Maury clapped a comforting hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, his long mouth twisting up into a smile. “Hey, look. I’ll… I’ll try talkin’ to ‘em. Maybe I’ll tells ‘em you’ve gone all mentally irregular and can’t pay or somethin’.”
“Thanks,” Jimmy mumbled, laughing half-heartedly. “I appreciate that.”
“Keep your fuckin’ thirty bucks, go get a good meal,” Maury suggested. “I’ll come see you if I hears anythin’.”
“Thanks, Maury,” Jimmy said, getting to his feet and pulling Maury into a tight hug.
“Take care of yourself, kiddo,” Maury sighed, slapping Jimmy’s back and affectionately patting his cheek as they parted. “I’ll sees ya ‘round.”
Jimmy bid farewell and started back home, his head hanging low. Maybe he’d treat himself to pizza, something good for his last meal since Boss Cold was probably going to murder him soon. He laughed miserably to himself. This day had gone from bad to worse to an absolute nightmare in only a few hours.
He tried to stay optimistic. After all, nothing else could possibly happen, right?
Fumbling for his keys as he walked down his hall, he soon realized he didn’t need them. His front door was already open, stopping him in his tracks with his pulse beginning to thump in his ears.
He slowly walked through the open doorway, gasping when he saw a strange man on his sofa. He had certainly seen the man’s picture on the news before, recognizing him in an instant.
“Hello there, James Poe. I don’t have a habit of making house calls,” Boss Cold rumbled, his voice a deep purr, “but I was reviewing my latest acquisitions and considering the amount of your outstanding balance… mmm, I felt it required a personal visit.”
Jimmy clutched his keys to his chest, staring dumbly in terror.
Roderick Legrand, Boss Cold, was stretched out across Jimmy’s couch with his feet kicked up over the back, his arms tucked behind his head. He wore a dark blue three-piece suit, a long navy blue trench coat, and black leather gloves. His shoes were expensive, his tie was definitely silk, and a long scarf was woven around his neck.
Cold looked like a napping cat, relaxed but every muscle was a bundle of coiled danger, ready to strike at any second.
Dangerous, and wow, beautiful. His lips were made for sin, and those eyes of his were sure to kill Jimmy quicker than anything. They were so blue and piercing that Jimmy felt sure the gangster could count the pennies in his pocket right through the denim.
“Uhhh,” Jimmy sputtered, his keys jingling in his nervous hands. Cold’s mugshots did him a great disservice. He didn’t think he had seen anyone that was so handsome in person. Maybe on television or on a magazine cover, but not face to face, not right there on his sofa. “I… uhh…”
Cold glanced around, giving Jimmy a reprieve from his icy gaze, musing, “Can’t imagine that you’ll be able to make a payment today, and after a quick little look around? I already know you don’t have anything to offer as collateral. I imagine whatever you had of value is in Maury’s pawn shop, mm?”
“Look, uh, Mr. Cold, sir?” Jimmy began. “Listen. I’ve been having a really, really bad day. And you don’t care, right, I totally get that. But please. I just lost my job today, and, and I’ve been really trying—”
The floor creaked behind him.
“Allow me to introduce you to my associate,” Cold chirped, cocking his head to the side as he looked over Jimmy’s shoulder. “This is Julian Price. Jules, this is Mr. Poe. Say hello.”
A giant hand curled around the back of Jimmy’s neck and he gasped softly, a deep voice greeting in an all too friendly tone, “Hi.”
Jimmy squeaked quietly in panic, smiling stupidly as he turned his head to gaze up into the terrifying visage leering over him.
Jules Price, Cold’s top enforcer and living proof that Bigfoot did exist and had consummated with humans.
Today sucked so much.
“Jules?” Cold said, his tone far too cheerful. “Will you please give Mr. Poe some encouragement to be a bit more timely with his payments?”
“Gladly,” Jules grunted, his fingers tightening and dragging Jimmy toward the stove.
Jimmy was helpless in Jules’ iron grip and he was certain that kicking and struggling would be utterly useless. But damn if he didn’t try anyway. Especially when Jules lit the stove and got the burner going.
Jules was going to burn him. He was going to freaking burn his hand!
“Wait, wait, please!” Jimmy screamed, wiggling frantically as he tried to pull his hand out of Jules’ giant paws.
Cold watched impassively, not affected by Jimmy’s cries. He glanced at his nails as if debating the merits of a manicure. He was so very handsome; a total and complete bastard, but an especially attractive one.
Jimmy was desperate, and he definitely did not want Jules Price to burn his hand or any other part of his body. He had no job, no money, and he was all out of options.
His body really was all he left.
“Wait!” Jimmy shouted, snapping his head around to look at Cold. “We, we can work something else out!”
“I’m afraid we’re far, far past that point,” Cold drawled, bored. “Empty promises don’t have any cash value, Mr. Poe. Take your punishment like a good boy, and—”
“Me! You can have me!” Jimmy yelled when he felt the heat of the flame warming up the tips of his fingers. “I’ll get you off, I’ll freakin’ get you off, please, I’ll do whatever you want!”
Cold’s brow arched curiously, calling out, “Jules, hold up.”
Jules pouted but pulled Jimmy’s hand back. Jimmy had never seen someone look so disappointed before.
Cold slowly swung his legs off the sofa in one fluid motion, his feet hitting the carpet as he rose to approach and strolled over to Jimmy with a strange smirk playing over his lips. He came close, so close that Jimmy could smell his cologne and see the splash of silver glittering through his dark hair.
“I’ll… I’ll do whatever you want,” Jimmy offered nervously, fingers clenching and unclenching by his sides.
“Whatever I want?” Cold echoed.
“Maury said… uh, that maybe, you’d be interested…?” Jimmy’s voice was almost a squeal, Jules’ forearm tightening around his neck. “That I could work off my debt… by… getting you off?”
Oh, Jimmy felt like a complete and total fool for saying it out loud. He couldn’t read Cold’s expression, not at all, and he could hear Jules chuckling faintly behind him. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe Maury was wrong.
“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.
“Ohhh, fuck,” Jimmy moaned in frustration. He had to get ready, anxiously hurrying to his room to change clothes. He thumbed through his closet, trying to decide what to wear.
Was this like a date? Should he dress up a little? What was the appropriate attire to go have sex with a mob boss to settle a debt?
He picked out the nicest shirt he owned, a simple button-up in a rich red that he’d always been told was his color. He switched between a few different pairs of jeans until he settled on one that fit his long legs well. He was digging through his shoes when it suddenly struck him that whatever he wore probably didn’t matter. After all, it was all going to end up on the floor, wasn’t it?
Sighing, he pulled on his old faithful black sneakers and grabbed his jacket as he rushed out the door. He hailed a cab and promised a big tip if they could get to the Wynne Hotel before nine. He had to hurry, his palms already sweating and his stomach turning somersaults the entire way.
One thing he was certain of was that Boss Cold would not appreciate tardiness.
Jimmy’s stomach dropped to his feet as he rode the elevator up to the executive level of the Wynne Hotel. The receptionist had given him a skeptical look when he asked for access to Mr. Frost’s room, but she passed him a keycard without question. Tapping his foot anxiously as the floors dinged by, he took a deep breath when the doors finally opened.
There were several large men in suits blocking the hallway, every one of them staring him down as he stepped off the elevator. They did not look friendly.
Jimmy was struck by a bolt of panic. He started to back away, but the elevator doors had already closed behind him. Gulping, he tried to appear as small and as unthreatening as possible while all the blood in his body rushed to his face, and he waved shyly. “Uh, hi.”
“Better hurry up,” the familiar voice of Jules Price rumbled. “Boss ain’t gonna be happy if you’re late.”
“Yeaaaah.” Jimmy gulped, bravely taking a few steps forward. He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew he had to be cutting it close. “Hey, Mr. Price.”
Jules lumbered out from the ranks of his fellow suited giants, grinning in an unnaturally friendly way. He waved back and even offered a cheerful greeting, “Good to see you again, Twig. Miss me?”
“Yeah, I always love seeing people who tried to burn me,” Jimmy mumbled, regretting his retort immediately. He attempted a sweet smile, hoping the giant man had a sense of humor.
To his relief, Jules laughed. Jimmy did not.
“Hey, ain’t nothin’ personal,” Jules said, leering smugly, “just business.” Nodding at two of the men, he commanded, “Search him.”
Jimmy didn’t protest as he got patted down roughly, Jules giving him a crooked smile.
“Can’t be too careful.”
“You be sure to show the boss a real nice time,” Jules teased, winking lecherously as the other men chuckled amongst themselves.
Jimmy’s face was suddenly too hot, and he wished he could melt into the floor. He practically sprinted to the door when they released him, using the key to slip inside and shut it quickly.
The room was dimly lit, the air much cooler inside than out in the hall, and it felt good on his blushing face. He saw Cold sitting at a large desk, the only light in the room emanating from a small lamp behind him.
Cold wore a gray sweater that hung nicely on his broad shoulders, the snug fit revealing a much more trim physique than Jimmy had first suspected. He was also surprised to see a thin pair of black reading glasses perched on Cold’s nose as he worked on several thick ledgers spread in front of him. He appeared relaxed and made no effort to acknowledge Jimmy’s presence.
“Good evening,” Jimmy said quietly, not sure how to proceed.
“Bathroom is around the corner,” Cold informed him shortly, not even looking up from the sea of papers. “Shower, and then put on the robe hanging on the back of the door.”
“I-I took a shower this morning,” Jimmy protested weakly, gulping audibly as he quickly added, “Sir.”
Cold sighed softly, obviously annoyed. He took off his glasses and set down his pen, finally lifting his head to stare Jimmy down.
Jimmy froze under the icy gaze, immediately understanding how the mob boss had earned his name. His eyes were piercing, and he was certain they were going to drill holes right through him. He felt trapped, glued to the spot, and he couldn’t look away.
“Allow me to make myself very clear, Mr. Poe,” Cold said slowly, speaking as if Jimmy was a child. He steepled his fingers together, his eyes never leaving Jimmy’s as he went on. “I have been kind enough to offer you this little arrangement to take care of your debt. I expect to get my money’s worth, and—”
“I’m sorry, really, I just have this weird thing about showering in other places that aren’t my house? And—”
Holding up a finger for silence, Cold’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. His entire posture had shifted, tense and ready to strike.
Jimmy shut up immediately.
“Last chance,” Cold warned quietly. “For the next seven hours and fifty seven minutes, you are mine. Your body is my property. You will do whatever I ask of you without hesitation. Please me, and I will ask you to return again. But if you fail to do so and you waste my time, I will make sure you’ll regret it.”
Jimmy believed him.
“Now,” Cold sighed, attempting to relax again, “any questions?”
A thousand questions came rushing to the surface, but only one managed to make it all the way to Jimmy’s lips, stammering, “D-do you do this a lot? Let people, you know, do this to pay you?”
Cold looked surprised, an expression Jimmy felt certain he did not show often. It faded as quickly as it appeared, and he answered simply, “No.”
Jimmy waited for more detail, but decided none was coming when Cold resumed his paperwork. He obediently hurried to the bathroom, grateful he could shut the door and have a moment of privacy.
Holy crap. He was in Roderick Legrand’s private room, and they were gonna do stuff. Sex stuff. He knew it was rather juvenile and this whole situation was insane, but his imagination was running through all sorts of debauched fantasies. It wasn’t so wrong if he was looking forward to this, he decided. He was making the best of the hand he’d been dealt.
After taking a deep breath, he stripped off his clothes. He didn’t want to keep Cold waiting.
Showering quickly and using the products he found in the bathroom, he hopped in and out as fast as he could. He pulled the robe on, grateful for the thick fabric when he stepped back into the cool main room.
“Bed,” Cold said, his pen still moving and eyes on the papers before him. “Get… comfy.”
Jimmy did as he was told, stretching out across the massive bed and sighing happily. It was easily the most comfortable bed he’d ever been in, and he sighed luxuriously as he snuggled up against the pillows. He knew better now than to speak, waiting patiently for Cold to tell him what to do.
“Go ahead and get yourself ready for me,” Cold continued briskly. “You’ll find what you need in the bedside table drawer.”
Jimmy quirked his brows, rolling over to inspect the contents of the drawer. He blushed immediately, finding a bottle of lube and several dildos. He was relieved to see they were at least new and still in the package. That was considerate of him, Jimmy thought, as he nervously grabbed the lubricant and one of the smaller toys.
Cold’s eyes flicked up for a moment, smirking at his selection. He said nothing, returning to his work.
Jimmy didn’t understand what was so amusing; the smallest toy was still at least seven inches. He set the toy and lube aside for now, slouching down so his head was nestled in the pillows. He tried to relax, letting his eyes close and quickly running his hands down his chest. Untying the robe, he opened it up to expose his lean body, still damp from the shower.
His cock was vaguely interested, half hard against his thigh as Jimmy’s hands moved across his stomach. He began to massage his balls while he started jerking himself off, trying to get hard. He was nervous, his cock not wanting to fully cooperate and his stomach turning uncomfortably.
He didn’t know if he could do this. What the fuck was he thinking? This was all a mistake. Cold was going to get pissed off, and then he was going to let Jules Price burn him to a crisp, he just knew it.
Jimmy didn’t notice that Cold’s pen had stopped scratching until he heard a low growl. “Slower.”
His eyes snapped open, turning his head to meet Cold’s unrelenting gaze. He obeyed, his pace dropping down immediately. Even though the friction had lessened, his cock was now at strict attention. There was something about that growl, about how Cold was looking at him…
“Yes, sir,” Jimmy found himself replying, spreading his legs wide. He stroked himself a few more times before reaching for the lube, slicking up his trembling fingers. He remembered to take his time, reaching down between his thighs to tease over his entrance.
He shuddered; the lube was cold and his body instinctively shied away from the sensation. He kept rubbing in delicate circles while it warmed up, one fingertip slipping inside prompting him to gasp.
It had been a very long time since he’d had sex, and even longer since he’d been with a man. He still enjoyed pleasuring himself like this when the mood struck him, and he tried to imagine he was at home in his own bed. There was no reason to rush. No one to please but himself, just him and his fingers chasing down waves of pleasure.
“Mmmmph,” he grunted as he pressed his finger all the way in, pumping slowly. He’d almost forgotten how good it was to feel so full, and this was far from over. In the back of his mind, he knew he was prepping himself for Cold’s cock, for Cold to be inside him, and he wanted it.
“Ohhh… mmm,” Jimmy moaned, rolling onto his side and pulling his knee up to his chest. He whined loudly, quickly reaching behind himself to slip two fingers back into his wet hole. The moist sounds his fingers made as he plunged in and out of himself were deliciously lewd, the squelching echoing throughout the large room.
Jimmy was almost flat on his stomach now, grinding his cock into the mattress. He was absolutely writhing, consumed by his own thrusting hand as his body opened up, trying to find the right angle to reach his prostate as he rubbed himself against the sheets.
Cold had silently moved to the foot of the bed, purring low, “Toy. Now.”
Jimmy panted, glancing up in surprise. He hadn’t even seen Cold move, but looked now to the dildo. Fuck, it wasn’t what he wanted, but he had to obey. He grabbed it, squirting lube all over it and impatiently starting to shove it inside.
“Slowly,” Cold commanded again.
“But, sir!” Jimmy protested, desperate, trying to push the toy deeper. “I can take it, I can take it so good—”
“Stop,” Cold ordered sharply.
Jimmy moaned in frustration, his face flushed and burning. He reluctantly withdrew the toy, rolling onto his back with a pout.
“Come here, on your hands and knees,” Cold said, pointing at the edge of the bed.
Jimmy grunted, shrugging off the robe as he crawled over toward Cold. Gazing up at him, he licked his lips in anticipation of the next command. He didn’t know why, but he really liked this. He liked being told what to do.
He didn’t have to worry about his father, about the money he owed, or even when he was going to eat next. He could give himself over to that velvety voice and listen. All of his cares melted away, his only focus on following the next order.
“Turn around,” Cold said with a small smile, spinning his finger tauntingly.
Jimmy groaned softly, his already reddened face feeling hotter, turning as he was asked. He was so exposed, his ass now facing Cold, ducking his head down against the sheets. He should have been embarrassed, but he was excited. He was panting softly, his toes curling as adrenaline pumped through his body.
Feeling a cool finger slide between his cheeks, lightly teasing over his hole, he gasped softly. He tried to rock his hips back against it, eager for penetration.
“Mr. Poe,” Cold purred, his fingertip gliding around the rim of his ass, refusing to probe any deeper, “I do believe you need to be taught a lesson in obedience.”
“I’m sorry,” Jimmy whined, clawing at the sheets beneath him. “I just, I need—”
“Shh, shhh, shh.” Cold’s voice was almost soothing. He withdrew his finger and chuckled softly. “Don’t worry… You will learn.” Squeezing Jimmy’s cheeks, he suddenly reared back and cracked his palm across his ass.
“Fuck!” Jimmy yelped, the sting left behind unforgiving. He barely had taken a breath before another violent slap rocked his ass. “Oh, fuck,” he sobbed, his hands clutching at the mattress. He tried to pivot his body forward for a reprieve, but Cold grabbed his hip with his other hand to hold him firmly in place.
Over and over, Cold spanked him, Jimmy certain his ass was going to be bruised tomorrow. Panting as tears began to run down his face, he gritted his teeth to bear it. Cold was not holding back at all, and it hurt like hell.
Cold would pause for a few moments, silent except for his heavy breathing, almost tenderly rubbing over where his hand had just slapped before spanking Jimmy again. The pattern kept repeating, giving Jimmy only a few seconds to catch his breath in between slams, moaning and squirming.
“Now, when I tell you to do something, it is not a question, it is a command,” Cold scolded, giving him one final smack. “You will do it… yes?”
“I will, sir,” Jimmy gasped, his ass throbbing from the abuse. He could feel his pulse in each cheek and in his cock, mewling pitifully, “I swear, I will.”
“Otherwise, you’ll be punished again,” Cold warned softly, his hand gently rubbing over Jimmy’s raw flesh. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, fuck, I do,” Jimmy replied, wiping his tears off on the sheets, turning his head back to look up at Cold. “I understand, sir.”
“Now… the toy. Finish what you started, and perhaps I’ll let you come,” Cold taunted.
Jimmy’s eyes bugged out at that, his mind reeling. Being denied his orgasm had never occurred to him, and he whimpered at the thought. This was torture—sweet, beautiful torture, and he quickly grabbed the dildo again. Rolling onto his back, he winced as his tender cheeks touched the mattress.
“Good boy,” Cold sighed, a breathy and pleased sound that made Jimmy shiver. “Now remember, slowly.”
Jimmy nodded, groaning as he pushed the toy inside him at the requested speed. Every inch made him gasp and cry out, sweat beading all across his forehead. The toy felt so much thicker than it had first looked and the angle was awkward. He took his time, managing to push it all the way in and slide it back out, fucking himself at a sluggish pace.
“There,” Cold praised, unbuttoning his pants and reaching down to touch himself as he watched Jimmy. “Just like that, Mr. Poe.”
Jimmy strained to look up at Cold, hopeful that he was about to start stripping and he would finally see what he looked like naked. But the mob boss did little more than open up the front of his pants, and that’s when Jimmy got the first glimpse of Cold’s cock.
“Oh, shit,” Jimmy cursed, his eyes wide in shock. Now he understood why all of the toys were so large, but still not a one could compare to what Cold had going for him.
“Oh, yes.” Cold actually grinned, that smug bastard, stroking his thick length as he watched Jimmy squirm. “Get back on your knees for me. Now.”
To say that Roderick Legrand had been blessed sounded too innocent and sweet; it didn’t quite capture the underlying terror of knowing that massive thing had to fit inside Jimmy’s ass.
Groaning as the toy slipped out of him, Jimmy scrambled to get back into position. He scooted backwards until he felt Cold’s hand stop him, sliding along his spine and pushing his head down. He could feel the warm head of Cold’s cock pressing against his thigh, and he closed his eyes while taking a long, deep breath.
He could hear the crinkle of a wrapper, a condom, and then Cold’s blunt fingers were probing at his hole.
“Mmmph, you’re still so tight,” Cold chuckled cruelly. “Maybe next time you’ll prep better.”
Jimmy gulped softly, moaning as Cold’s fingers sank into him. Next time, Cold had just said it. There was going to be a next time. That meant this was going well despite Jimmy’s previous infraction. He tried to relax as Cold fingered him roughly, tried to remind himself of what had brought him here.
Cold continued to tease and stretch out his hole, his long fingers playing in all the slick left behind from his earlier efforts. He finally seemed satisfied that Jimmy was ready, the head of his cock suddenly there in place of his fingers without warning.
The first sting of penetration took Jimmy’s breath away, trying to breathe through his nose and not scream. Cold was pushing and pushing and forcing Jimmy’s body to open up. He couldn’t hold back any longer, shouting as Cold slammed the last few inches of his thick cock inside him.
“Oh, God, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jimmy cried, up on his elbows, trying to find any way to relieve the intense pressure.
“There you go,” Cold purred low, already beginning to move his body forward, thrusting deeply into Jimmy’s tight hole. “Just like that, Mr. Poe…”
Jimmy couldn’t find relief, Cold’s hands holding his hips in place and pulling him back to meet every savage slam. He whimpered and moaned, his eyes fluttering closed against the incredible sensations. The pain was intense, but pleasure was starting to lick its way up his spine, sending all the right signals to his brain to make his cock twitch.
It was starting to feel good.
Jimmy had never felt so full, his body stretched to its very limit, and he sobbed almost hysterically against the mattress. He didn’t realize it at first, but Cold had been holding back. His thrusts were deep and mean, but there were a few precious seconds in between each one to let Jimmy prepare himself for the next.
Jimmy pushed up onto his hands and started to rock back on Cold’s cock, grunting loudly for more, causing Cold to moan quietly, clearly pleased.
“Yes…” he growled. “Come on… you look so beautiful fucking yourself on my cock.”
Whimpering and blushing at the nasty compliment, Jimmy continued to slam his hips back. Beautiful, Cold had called him beautiful. Then he soon realized that Cold was no longer moving. He was letting Jimmy control the pace. Eager to please, Jimmy threw his whole body into each thrust, taking every inch as he rocked back as hard as he could.
Cold allowed this to go on for several minutes, his hands squeezing Jimmy’s hips and gently petting over his raw cheeks, making small noises of encouragement for his efforts. But soon enough, he was bored of it, and that was when he finally showed Jimmy how much he had been restraining himself.
His hips snapped forward brutally, immediately setting a rapid pace that pushed Jimmy’s hips flat against the bed. He cried out, gasping as Cold pressed right on top of him, forcing his legs to spread as he slammed into him. Jimmy could only moan and sob, helpless to defend against such rough treatment.
No one had ever fucked Jimmy so hard before. Cold was using his body only for his own pleasure, growling as he took everything he wanted from Jimmy without mercy. The pain waxed and waned, mixed in with an alarming amount of ecstasy that Jimmy had never experienced. He submitted to Cold’s cock pounding away at him, groaning as he gave himself over completely.
Cold was a quiet lover. He grunted, growled, maybe a soft moan here and there, but he gave little indication that he was enjoying himself. It wasn’t until he started to get close that his breathing became labored and he grew louder. He cursed, his growls becoming stunted little roars, and he lifted a hand to slap Jimmy’s already sensitive ass.
“Fuck!” Jimmy wailed, tearful again and exhausted. He didn’t know how much more he could take, and Cold was seemingly relentless. Just as Jimmy was about to start begging for leniency, Cold pulled out, leaving him raw and gaping, moaning pitifully.
“Roll over,” Cold croaked, ripping off the condom and jerking himself furiously.
Jimmy whimpered, struggling to comply, flopping onto his back.
“Finish yourself off, now,” Cold commanded.
Lost in Cold’s stern voice and intense gaze, Jimmy immediately reached down to touch his aching cock. It had been trapped beneath him against the sheets all this time, and he realized with a faint grimace that the moisture he felt under his back was from where he’d been leaking.
Taking a few deep breaths, he sniffed back his tears as he curled his fingers around himself. It only took a few tugs and he was coming, twitching and shouting as cum splattered across his stomach. He came so hard that it made his head throb from the rush, moaning, “Fuck… oh, fuck!”
Suddenly, Cold was right on top of him, and Jimmy groaned as he realized what he was doing. Cold was going to come on him.
Jimmy couldn’t look away from Cold’s hard and oozing cock, begging, “Please, come on, please, do it!”
Cold’s eyes widened ever so slightly, his brow furrowing in concentration. He let out one single gorgeous groan, loud and happy, and his cock pulsed long streams of cum all over Jimmy’s chest and stomach. It was hot and sticky, and Jimmy felt absolutely filthy.
He loved it.
Moaning quietly, Jimmy still trembled from the force of his orgasm, smiling stupidly up at Cold. It was that moment when he realized that he still had no idea what this man looked like naked. They hadn’t even kissed, his eyes zeroing in on those beautiful lips and wanting to know how they tasted.
Cold seemed to sense Jimmy’s desire, offering only a smirk as he moved away from the bed before Jimmy could find out. Carefully tucking himself away, Cold sighed loudly in satisfaction, but seemed to make it clear that Jimmy would not be getting the show he desired.
Jimmy threw his arm over his face and gave a sharp exhale. That had been intense. Really intense. He was sore all over, especially his poor butt cheeks. Stretching out his aching body across the bed, he still couldn’t believe they hadn’t kissed, not once, and made a mental note to remedy that on their next encounter.
Hearing the snap of a rubber band, Jimmy lifted his forearm to see Cold standing over him with a stack of cash. He grimaced when Cold started counting out the bills, letting them fall over his naked and sticky body. They were hundred dollar bills, he realized, a crazy part of his brain wanting to grab them immediately, but he waited.
He had to wait until Cold said he could move.
“Consider this a tip,” Cold said with a shrug, smirking happily. “I’ve decided to officially accept your deal. You’ll need to be here again tomorrow night. Nine o’clock.”
Jimmy didn’t move, but a quick glance at the cash scattered all over him definitely didn’t seem like the agreed upon amount. “This isn’t… ten thousand?”
“No, it’s not,” Cold snorted, his brows raised in amusement. “This was just a test run, remember? Think of it as an interview that went exceptionally well. I wasn’t going to agree to buy the cow without tasting the milk first, Mr. Poe.”
Jimmy’s face flushed, his head dropping back against the pillows. He had honestly forgotten that tonight wasn’t the official start of their arrangement.
“Besides, when and if you do earn your ten thousand dollars for a good night’s work, did you really think that I was just going to give you cash?” Cold pursed his lips, apparently amused by the idea.
“Cash that you would turn around and pay right back to me?” Cold said with a short laugh.
“When you put it that way, okay, yes, it’s…” Jimmy closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. “Right. Got it.”
“I think your track record proves that you’re not fiscally responsible,” Cold lectured, making one last adjustment to his sweater before walking back toward the desk. “I wouldn’t trust you not to waste it like you did all the rest of the money you owe me.”
“I didn’t waste it,” Jimmy protested softly.
Cold paused, huffing incredulously. “I’ve seen your apartment, Mr. Poe. Whatever you spent that cash on, it was definitely a waste because you have nothing to show for it.”
Those words cut deeper than Cold could ever know, Jimmy’s eyes instantly welling up with tears. The crime boss was right. Thousands upon thousands of dollars spent, and his father was still in jail. He sniffed quietly, rolling over onto his side, the crisp bills crunching softly as he moved.
“Can I go now, sir?” Jimmy asked, struggling to keep his voice from shaking.
“Is it five o’clock?” Cold asked sternly.
“There’s your answer,” Cold replied flatly as he sat back down at his desk. “Get up. Take another shower. I may wanna fuck you again before you leave.”
Jimmy had to force himself to get moving, grabbing his robe and gathering up all the sticky bills. He wadded them into a bunch to take with him to the bathroom, shoving them into the pocket of the robe to count later. After shutting the door and getting the water going, he cradled his face in his hands and sobbed quietly. He collapsed on the floor by the tub, trying to keep his sounds of sorrow as discreet as possible.
His father was still rotting away in jail for a crime he didn’t commit, a fact that Cold had been kind enough to remind Jimmy of. He knew that Cold hadn’t meant to, but Jimmy had never felt more like a failure than right at that moment. He was no closer to freeing his father despite all the debt he had incurred, he hadn’t been able to keep a job for more than a few months, his bank accounts were all in the negative, credit cards maxed out, and his only friend was a crooked old loan shark.
He had literally just had sex for money with a ruthless criminal, his feelings even more conflicted about what he had done because while he felt completely filthy, he had enjoyed it. Every second of it.
And he already knew he was going to do it again. Again and again. Because right now, Roderick Legrand was the only hope he had of getting his life back on track. Ironic, really, since he was the one threatening Jimmy’s life if he didn’t pay up.
Jimmy sighed miserably, finally reaching into his pocket to dig out the cash, sniffling sadly as he thumbed through the bills. He frowned as he counted it. That couldn’t be right. He counted it again.
“Holy shit,” he breathed excitedly. It was sixteen hundred dollars.
Cold had tipped him sixteen hundred fucking dollars.
Jimmy was giddy. He started laughing, hugging the money tightly to his chest. He could buy groceries, real groceries. He could actually purchase fruit and vegetables and eat a real meal. He could finally pay his rent so he wouldn’t be kicked out of his apartment.
Sure beat the hell out of the eighty-six dollars and nineteen cents he’d started the day with.