Black Ink (9 page)

Alexander

She liked the roses.  She accepted them.

I grin. 

All morning I’d watched how tense and distracted she’d been.  The roses seem to have given her a sense of comfort.  Maybe she feels relieved that she’d made the decision not to report the incident to the police.

Excellent. 

“Mr. Black?” Scott’s voice asks over the intercom.

“Yes.”

“There’s a Mr. Tony Salvatore on the phone for you.  He said you’d take his call, in quite a colorful way.”

“He did, did he?”

Tony Salvatore, Gina Salvatore Franco’s brother, Gemma’s friend.  And Gemma’s childhood boyfriend.  The son of the first in command to the Capo di Tutti Capi, head of one of New Jersey’s major crime families. 

“He said it was about Ms. Trudeau,” Scott adds.

“Put him through.”

I grab the receiver as soon as the line blinks.

“What do you want?”

“Black, long time no see.  How you been, Gumba?” the arrogant asshole asks in his heavy Jersey mob accent.

“Cut the shit, Salvatore.”

The last time I saw Tony Salvatore was at a sit-down with his father, a meeting of the minds between business associates.  That was ten years ago.  Things have been going well since then. 

The first time I saw Tony Salvatore was on the street, my fist was pounding his head in the pavement while my boys were busy with his crew.  That was twenty years ago.

“Gemma.  She’s ours, she belongs to the family.  Which means she belongs to me.  Don’t forget it, Black.”

“Oh?  Last I heard she was married to Malcolm Stevens.”

“We’re protecting her.”

My jaw clenches and I grip the receiver tightly.

“Does she know this?”

“Yes, Black, she knows.” 

I could hear the satisfied sadistic smile in his voice.

“Did she
ask
for it Salvatore?”

“It doesn’t matter.  She’s mine, Black.  Stay the fuck away from her,” the cold hatred poured from him.

“Now that I allowed you to spill the sewage from that cesspool you call a mouth, you will listen to me.  In case you have forgotten, I own you and your family.  If you touch her in anyway, I’m going to kill you.  Then all the business dealings your family is involved in will be immediately terminated.  You will be responsible for starting a war because torturing two women isn’t enough for you.  I will not let you do that Gemma.”  My voice is barely above a threatening whisper.

“You filthy little homeless boy.  You think you can tell me what to do?”

The boy those comments used to hurt no longer exists.  They only make me smile.

“Salvatore, you will not get another warning.”

Slamming down the phone, I throw open the door to my office and go directly to Gemma.

I grab her by the arm and drag her to my office before she can stop me. 

“Sit down,” I tell her.

I’m dangerously close to losing my temper.  My tone is quiet and icy, restraining the rage engulfing me.

“What is it?”

Locking the door, I walk to my desk and press the button that frosts the glass.  No one needs to hear or see what’s going on in here.

“Would you like to tell me what your involvement is with the Salvatore family?” 

She blinks at me trying to comprehend the question.

“They’re friends of my family.  That’s it.”

I take a deep breath before I begin. 

“Apparently not according to Tony Salvatore.”

“What did that asshole say?”  The ruthless lawyer is back, her fire flaring in Gemma’s eyes.

“He just called me…”

“
He
called
you?!”

“Yes.”

“And you took his call?”

“The family and my company do business together.”

She might as well know some of the truth if she’s going to be an attorney in my firm.

“The Salvatore family and Black Inc. do business together.  And with UN Ambassadors.”

As long as young girls are beheaded because they were raped by an old man, and pregnant sixteen year olds run away after being tortured and raped for years by their stepfather, I will do business with anyone I have to. 

“The D’Angelo family.  Vinny D’Angelo.”

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Ms. Trudeau…and no, I’m not shitting you.  Back to the question, what is
your
involvement with them?”

“Nothing.  I swear.  My dad was friends with Tony’s dad, John, when they were kids.  The daughter Gina was and is my best friend.  That’s all.”

“Then why does Tony Salvatore think that you belong to him?”

“
WHAT?!”

“Tony Salvatore said you are under their protection.  Therefore, he thinks you belong to him.”  I raise my hand to stop her outburst.  “
If
you entered into an agreement with them asking for their protection, then yes, you in fact are indebted to them.  Did you offer yourself to that scumbag in return for protection?  Tell me the truth.”

I need to know everything before I can proceed in dealing with this situation.  Which has turned into a major cluster fuck.  Not only am I trying to find out if she helped her ex steal three million dollars from me, I might have to protect her from the psychopath Tony Salvatore. 

“I did
NOT
do any such thing.  When I moved back into my parent’s house after my home was confiscated by the feds, Tony came to me and told me that the family would take care of me if I needed anything, to come to them first.  He said that they‘re watching out for me.  I never went to them and asked for anything, nor did I ask for their protection.  That’s everything.”

I study her face.  I know she’s not telling me something.

“There’s more.” 

That beautiful ass of hers squirms in the seat, and my dick starts to get hard remembering pounding into her.

She lets out a heavy breath.  “I was at Gina’s yesterday for dinner.  Tony was there, he tried to kiss me, and reminded me again about the family taking care of me.”

“What
exactly
did he say?”

“He said, ‘Everything about you is my business now.  Remember the family is taking care of you.’  I told him Malcolm is in jail and I don’t need it.  He said it was too late, it was already done.”  She’s twisting her hands nervously in her lap.

“Did he send you the flowers?”

“Of course not!”

“Who did?” I narrow my eyes at her.

She glares at me and clamps her mouth shut, her nostrils flaring.

“Did you fuck Salvatore?”

“WHAT!?  NO, I didn’t fuck him, I didn’t even let him kiss me.  He makes me sick.”

“You fucked him before.”

That knocks her off guard.

“You know quite a bit about me, Mr. Black, don’t you?”

“Your husband…”

“Soon to be ex,” she cuts in..

I continue, “…Stole three million dollars from me, and you work for
me. 
I told you, when you’re here, you belong to me.  I need to know everything about everyone that belongs to me.  But you, you’re special.”  I smile crookedly at her, a dangerous grin letting her know I mean a lot more.

“I understand that,” she replies curtly, quickly pulling her guard back up.  “I assure you, I have no dealings with them other than what I’ve told you.  I did not ask for help nor did I offer myself in return.”

I approach her slowly.  When I reach her she’s pressed against the back of the chair, hands holding the arm rests tightly.  I place my hands on the chair back, bending down so my face is an inch from hers.  

I say dangerously quiet, “Listen to me carefully Gemma.  Tony Salvatore is a psychopath.  Do
NOT
trust him.  Don’t be alone with him.  If I find out you have fucked him or
are
fucking him, I’m going to tie you over this desk, strip your ass, and spank you so hard, you will beg for mercy.  Then I’m going to lock you in a room in my house so you wouldn’t be stupid enough to do it again.  I.  Am.  Not.  Kidding.”  I stare into her eyes, daring her to say another word.  “Understand?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”  Her eyes are glazed, her breathing is heavy. 

She’s aroused by the image.

“I would without hesitation.  Tell me Gemma, how many more men do you want to destroy you and ruin your life?  Malcolm wasn’t enough, you want Tony Salvatore to do it too?  Because that’s exactly what would happen.  Except with him, you would probably end up dead.”

The words hang heavy in the air like the ticking of a bomb.

Her eyes widen with fear. 

“
Because
of that Jesús will be picking you up in the mornings and taking you home…every day.”

“Oh, no, Black, I do not need a babysitter,” she starts to protest.

“This isn’t a discussion,
Trudeau
, don’t bother arguing.  I’ve seen what that low life has done to women,”
any pain I inflict on women is because they want it
, “and I WILL NOT let that happen to you.”

Those lips I want to suck open.  I place my hand on her chest between her breasts and feel her heart pounding against it.  The simple touch claims her.  My mouth comes down hard on hers, crushing her lips, and I shove my tongue in her mouth, consuming her, taking her. 

Fuck, she tastes so sweet.
I growl in the kiss.

She grabs the lapels of my jacket and grinds her mouth into mine, fighting me with her tongue.  The kiss is savage and ferocious.  I lean in and push her body back, forcing her to take it, take everything I’m giving her.  Her arms wrap around me, her hands sift into my hair, and hold me close.  I want to punish her for being so damn naïve, so damn beautiful…and making me want her so much.

8 CHAPTER

Alexander

Watching Gemma dress has become part of my every day.  As I’m on the phone at dawn with my international associates, she’s there with me.  Unfortunately, it’s on the computer monitors.  I should feel guilty about this invasion.  But I don’t.  I
am
sick and twisted, life made me this way and I don’t apologize for it.  I don’t know when it happened, but I
need
to see her like this, unguarded and free. 

Entering her bedroom, the soft early morning sun is filtering in through the window and  gives a golden glow to her pale skin.  I’m mesmerized when she slides on her lingerie, some with little bows, others with ruching between her ass cheeks.  Then she places her foot on the bed to slowly pull up her stockings, clipping the tops just beneath the bare flesh.  My mouth waters wanting to run my tongue along the edge, then slightly sink my teeth into the meaty flesh just before I graze my nose against the heat between her spread thighs and smell her arousal.  And at night alone I watch her and listen as she talks to that stupid cat that doesn’t shut up.  She loves that cat, spoils it and coddles it.  I hate to admit it, but I’m jealous of the mangy thing.  When she climbs into bed I can almost feel the softness of her skin beneath my hands, her lush little body pressed against mine.  I have to remind myself that she might also have been involved with Malcolm in his scheme.

But each day it’s getting harder and harder to believe it, especially with the information Rashad is getting back to me, or lack thereof.

She’d argued every morning and every evening, refusing to get into the car.  Jesús wasn’t going to play that game, and the first time she started to walk away, he threw her over his shoulder and shoved her in the car.  He didn’t get any more trouble from her.  She’s been pissed off at me ever since.

I ordered a single black long stemmed rose to arrive at precisely eleven this morning.  On time, I watch the elevator door open with the delivery man carrying the long white box tied with a sheer black ribbon.  Natasha’s face lights up.  She couldn’t be more excited if it was her own. 

I make a note to have flowers delivered to all the females who work for me.  Women should get flowers sometimes for no reason at all.  I take care of what’s mine.

A minute later Gemma walks through the doors eyes wide, prepared for the worst. 

A pang runs through me.

She shouldn’t have had to go through this shit with Malcolm, she doesn’t deserve it.

Another sneering voice retorts,
Well, what about you?  What are you doing to her?  Playing mind trips, lying, that’s what,
 

“I’m giving her pleasure, making her realize the woman she is.”

Bullshit, you’re trying to break her down so she’ll collapse under pressure.

The painful honesty makes me wince.

But not enough to stop me.

She’s followed by a group of girls, most of them from accounting, all of them smiling and giggling.

I watch as she reads the card, her hand going to her chest to stroke a fingertip along the bare skin at her neckline.  I see the flush creep up from beneath it, up her neck then to her face.  Her lips open slightly and a ghost of a smile plays at a corner of her lips.

Natasha’s demanding Gemma tell her what the card says.  Not looking at her, she tells her.

Tonight. XOXO

“
Oh my God, that is sooooooooo romantic.   I want to know all the deets on Monday morning,” Natasha squeals.

“Yes!”

“Definitely!”

Gemma blushes.

“There won’t be anything to tell,” she replies smiling shyly.

“Oh please.  The only thing I need to know is if that secret man can out-do my book boyfriends,” Natasha comments and rolls her eyes.

Gemma turns a bright crimson and laughs bowing her head to hide it.

“You bet your ass I will,” I murmur.

At nine o'clock I park the van on Gemma's street.  I'm fuming.  Jesús phoned me at seven stating Ramon called and that Tony Salvatore had just pulled up at Gemma’s house.  I was working out so I hadn’t been watching the monitors.  It took every ounce of control not to order Ramon to go into the house and throw his ass out.  That would have given up our surveillance, something I couldn’t risk.  The monitor hadn’t left my side since then, I’d even taken it with me when I showered so I would know what was happening at all times.  If that greasy scumbag so much as brushed a hair from her face, I was sending Ramon in balls to the wall.

Salvatore was gone fifteen minutes later.  That was enough time for him show what he was after.

Gemma

“Tony, if you come barging into my home one more time, I’m calling the cops.  Knock like a normal human being.”

I am so furious at Tony Salvatore’s arrogance, thinking he can do whatever he likes, coming into my home like he owns me and it. 

“Gem, stop acting like a self-righteous bitch.  You came from the same neighborhood I did, I was the first one to fuck you, and I know what a little slut you can be.  You belong to us,” he says with finality, plopping his tacky ass down on my couch.

“Get the fuck out of my house, Tony, and don’t come back.”  I am so enraged, I can barely speak.  “I would never belong to you, and I definitely don’t belong to the family.  I didn’t ask for anything from them.  And if you
ever
say anything like that to me again, I won’t hesitate telling your father you’re trying to scare me.  He won’t tolerate it.”

“Nobody tells me what to do, Gemma,” he sneers at me.

“Get out.” I hiss back.

“Is it Black?  Are you fucking that wannabe already?  What, has it been a week and you’re already sucking his cock?” he spits out at me, moving so fast he’s so close, his chest is pressed to mine.

“Get out Tony!”  I step back and walk quickly to the door. 

He’s reaching out to grab me but his phone chimes with a message and stops him.

“Shit!  I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back.” 

I hold the door open and slam it when he’s barely outside.

Just what I need, another man to make my life hell.  Black was right.

After storming around the house for two hours, I get in the shower and let the hot water pulsate over my body, trying to wash Tony from my system.  As the water streams down me in rivulets, the force of Black’s kiss comes back with a vengeance again.

That kiss…

It wasn’t gentle or romantic.  Nothing about Alexander Black is gentle.  Or romantic.  He captures, he owns, he conquers.  He did exactly that with his kiss.  It was rough and punishing, angry and threatening, and something inside me rose up to meet his assault.  I wanted to possess him, punish him like he was doing to me. 

The kiss blurs into tongues licking, teeth biting, nails scratching.

…I’m going to suck your cunt…
he whispered in my ear.

No, it wasn’t him…

My sex aches with need, remembering how good he filled me, fucked me…The Faceless Man.

It wasn’t Black.

I rest one hand one the wall to brace myself as the other slips between my legs over the slickness.  The passionate force of that night with The Faceless Man surges through me and every part of me comes alive.

He’s coming back tonight.

A thrill makes me tremble with both fear and anticipation. 

Christ, what’s wrong with me?  I loved the flowers, the handprints, the bruises from his hands and teeth.  All of it.  How he took me, forced me, tied me, and controlled me.

I want to hate that the mere memory of everything is enough to bring me to the brink of orgasm. 

I can’t.  Because I want more.

“God…,” I moan.

The lights go out.  My head shoots up as my heart pounds and sweat instantly pores from my body.

He’s here!

I’m immobilized, riveted, the scene from before playing over and over again in my mind, pounding in my brain and over my body.  Finally I slide the shower curtain open.  Being careful not to make a sound, I search for the towel.  Moving on autopilot, I dry myself and step softly from the tub, the cotton securely tightened around my body.  When I walk out onto the landing of the stairs, the soft glow from the kitchen illuminates the downstairs foyer.  My ears are silently screaming to pick up any noises.  Nothing, just the pounding of my heart.  I move slowly towards the bedroom and tentatively push the door all the way open while scanning the room before I step in.  My heart’s beating so hard and I’m trembling as I cautiously enter.

I feel him before I hear him, sensing his nearness.

“Gemma,” his whisper’s strong as his hand clamps over my mouth and his arm traps me.

I can’t stop the scream.

“Sssssshhhh,” he whispers, his lips butterflying over the thin skin of my ear, his breath stroking me.

I freeze in his grip.

“Don’t scream…,” he whispers again.

I shake my head frantically.

“Good girl,” his lips are still at my ear.

“Did he touch you Gemma?” he whispers hoarsely.

He knows Tony was here. 

That shocks me.

I move my head from side to side telling him no.

“Good, if he had I’d have to kill him,” the words slip easily from him, sending a chill up my spine.  “I wanted to, just knowing he was here.  He’s dangerous.” 

His declaration perversely excites me.  No man has ever been protective of me.  Ironic that the one man who is is the one who broke into my house and took me sexually.  It wasn’t rape.  Not at all, I wanted it.  I want it now.  I know I’ve been waiting for him.

“I need to fuck you Gemma.”

I make no move, neither refusing nor inviting him as he waits for a sign from me.

Apparently satisfied by my reply of no reply, his hand slowly leaves me mouth.  My breathing is deep and quick, fueled by fear and rising lust.  Sliding his hands to open my towel, he lets it drop to the floor then fills his palms greedily with my breasts, squeezing them tightly.

He takes, he possesses, he claims unabashedly, and God help me, it turns me on.

His voice is strained.

“It’s going to be rough and it’s going to be hard, Gemma.  This is for me.  I need to fuck the image of that scumbag here with you out of my mind.” 

Everything tightens within me, my walls clench and my nipples harden in his hands.  Shoving a hand in my hair, he fists it at the roots and pulls my head to the side, leaving my neck open for his mouth, tongue and teeth to assault.  He slides the other hand between my thighs and grasps my clit tightly between his fingers.  Jolts shoot through my body from the erotic pain and it makes me tremble.

The room is black except for the filtered light of the street lamps through the window as he leads me to the wall, my hair held tightly at the roots and my clit gripped in his fingers. The fear thrills me, his need consumes me, and my body reacts feverishly. 

“Don’t look at me.”

I scrunch my eyes shut and mutter, “No.”

“If you do I’ll spank you.”

My heart jumps and my loins quiver.

“Mmmmm, like that little pet?  Maybe I will.”

He pushes me hard against the wall pressing my front against it. 

“Spread your legs,” he commands quietly, shoving my feet apart with one of his.

He lifts his back from mine and I hear the rustling of clothes.  Then flesh against flesh as he leans into me again, the soft hair from his chest titillating my skin.  I hear the tearing of paper and a spitting sound.  The condom.  The presence of his body is gone, replaced by a firm hand between my shoulders blades that keeps me against the wall. 

“Get ready Gemma, I’m about to fuck the shit out of you.”

Oh God, yes,
I quietly moan. 

Wrapping my hair around his hand, he begins to slide the head of his cock over my slickness and rubs my clit with it.  Then he presses it into the entrance of my ready sex.

“Rough and hard, pet, hold on,” he whispers gruffly at my ear before pulling the lobe between his teeth.

He grips my shoulder with his free hand, turns my head to the side with the handful of my hair to rest my cheek against the wall, then slams into me with one thrust, pulling me into him by my shoulder.

“What a greedy, tight little pussy you have Gemma.  She’s so beautiful.”

My nails are digging into wall, and his into my shoulder, as he pounds into me.  Murmuring filthy endearments in my ear, he fucks me like an animal, primitive and wild, ravenous and completely.

He grabs me by my hips and pulls me back, bending me at the waist.  I brace myself, hands against the wall, arms straight. Preparing.

“Whose cock is it when I fuck you, Gemma?”

Slam!
He pounds into me, his balls banging against me.