Kidnapped By The Mafia

2

He tore his mouth from mine, his hooded golden eyes of a ravening tiger studying me. “From one to ten, how sure are you? Ten is without-a-doubt confident, and one is forget what I said and take me home?”

“Twelve.” I blinked excessively, maybe seven or eight times in a row. It happened when I was anxious. A nervous tic I’d developed when I was four and never gotten rid of. Contrary to general belief, this didn’t fall into Tourette’s category. It was a chronic tic disorder. My way to wear my heart on my sleeve and show people how nervous I was.

“Are you sure you want me to take your V-card?” His eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, Row, I’m sure. Who else would I give it to? Some trust- fund baby from SUNY? Someone with a broccoli haircut? A guy who doesn’t even care about me and would make me sit in his dorm room and listen to his experimental techno music?” Technically, Row didn’t care either. But I knew he’d never ridicule or tease me. He had a history of making me feel safe, and feeling safe wasn’t something I was used to.

His mouth slacked, and I could tell he wanted to refuse my request. He probably thought I was odd. Just like everyone else in this small town.

“Why?” His thick eyebrows nose-dived. I decided to give him the truth. He deserved it, after all.

“Because I have…” Severe androphobia. “Trust issues, and I know I’d never regret you. You’re the only guy I know who is fuckable and not a fuckup. Make sense?”

“I’m a major fuckup.” He ran his fingers over my side bangs, tucking the hair behind my ear. “But too f*****g selfish not to f**k you. It’s going to hurt, you know.” He gave me a cool once-over. “The first time, anyway. It’ll get better the more times—”

“There won’t be more times,” I interrupted him. I appreciated him pretending it wasn’t a one-night stand, but that wasn’t necessary. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

His desire-drunk expression melted into a frown. “I’m not saying that to make you feel better. I’m saying that because f*****g you is probably all I’ll want to do once we start.”

“Row, this has to be a one-time thing. Dylan can’t know. Please.” I placed my palms over his chest. I was a coward and a cheat, and in that moment, I hated myself more than Dylan could if she ever found out. And still, he was my one shot at not dying a virgin.

He must’ve understood the gravity of the situation because he nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m ready, Row. Let’s do this.” I shoved my tongue into his mouth before he could use it to change his mind. I’d already made a colossal mistake by making out with him. Might as well lose my pesky virginity before I went off to college.

It was the right thing to do.

First of all, because according to the rumors, he knew his way around a woman’s body. Second, because his Adonis face was attached to some history, context, and nostalgia. He was comfort, familiarity, and ease, not some sordid mistake. And third, because I knew that despite his reputation, he wouldn’t hurt me.

And that last part? It was huge.

Row was my security blanket in many ways, even though he didn’t know it. When we were kids, he’d throw Dylan and me into the public pool as many times as we asked. He’d taught us how to do cartwheels, drive a car, cheat in poker, pick a lock. He’d given us money for vinyl records even though we never paid him back. Driven us places. Bought us ice cream when we were PMSing. Dislocated a nose or two when someone catcalled us.

Row made sense. I didn’t have cold sweats with him. I didn’t go into hiding. Whenever I had extreme nervous verbal diarrhea in front of him, he didn’t look at me like I was a freak. And I was confident enough in his presence to sass back.

Our bodies fused into one another as he kissed his way down my throat, proceeding south, his head disappearing between my thighs.

“No,” I gasped, desperately trying to yank him up to his feet. “We don’t have time.” But the truth was, I was deathly afraid he wouldn’t like the taste of me. “Just…do it.” Great, now I sounded like a Nike commercial. “And hurry up.”

“You sure know how to set the mood.” Row stood up swiftly, returning his lips to mine, refusing to cheapen this experience for me. His strong fingers slowly snaked down my waist, flipping my skirt up. More grinding ensued. His c**k slid up and down my slit through my panties and his jeans. I could feel heat rushing between my legs. He made sure I was hot and ready for him before he rolled on a condom, and then he was inside me, sealing my pained moan with an apologetic kiss. Tears seared my eyes, and I held my breath at the sharp sting.

“Okay to move?” he grunted, lodged squarely inside me.

“I strongly prefer that you didn’t.”

“We can—”

“Stop. I know. Please just f**k me.” Didn’t I literally tell him not to? My head was a mess. So was the rest of me.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know. That’s precisely why we should continue.”

He pulled out slowly, then thrusted inside. Soon, I was clawing at his shoulders, staring at the sun slithering behind his messy dark hair as he drove into me, my white Mary Janes thumping against his car hood every time he pressed home. I held my breath the entire time.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Steadfast and determined, he screwed me like I was a hood ornament he was trying to drill back into place. He was kissing and nibbling, exploring and admiring. Didn’t he know that on some level, all women lost their virginity alone? It was kissing your innocence goodbye. This was the point it stopped being great and started being taxing. I wasn’t so turned on anymore.

Truth was, it hurt. It burned. It sucked.

All throughout, Row whispered sweet nothings into my ear. Things I knew there was no way he truly believed. Things like, Jesus, Dot, I could live inside that tight p***y if you’d let me, and You’re the most beautiful girl in the whole f*****g universe, no close seconds, and Watching my d**k inside you is more breathtaking than Paris at night.

It lasted way more than the average time my friends reported their boyfriends had sexed them. I was expecting five minutes—ten, if I wasn’t lucky. But no. Row seemed to carry on forever. I was planning my 401(k) while he was in there, mercilessly stabbing my poor hymen with what appeared to be his eleven-inch d**k.

He had tricks too. With his tongue, his thumbs, his teeth. Tricks I could’ve admired had my mind not been stuck on how to explain to Dylan what had happened if she ever found out, then groveling into the next century in hopes she’d forgive me.

Dylan was staying here, in Staindrop. She’d decided the student debt wasn’t worth a liberal arts degree that would gain her zero opportunities.

“And anyway,” she’d chuckled the last time I’d broached the subject, “it’s not like I’m even good at anything. I’d be wasting money on a degree I’d probably never use.”

We’d promised to visit one another every other month, but I knew Dylan was worried I’d ditch her for new, shiny urban friends.

Finally—praise Jesus—Row grumbled, “f**k, I’m coming.”

“Yeah. Totally. Me too.” I lifted my hand from behind his shoulder and bit into my fist to suppress a yelp of agony. I was worried my internal organs had gotten tangled around his p***s. What if he pulled out and took my intestines with him? That thing between his legs was a health hazard.

Row was coming inside me when I heard the squeak of car wheels stopping abruptly to my right, followed by gravel crunching. Another couple coming to Make-out Mountain to get some action. A car door slammed behind my back.

Then I heard the unmistakable voice of my best friend.

“Somebody better hold my earrings.” Dylan’s tenor was like a pair of scissors cutting my heart into a Judas-shaped paper. “Because I’m about to murder a bitch.”

“Shit.” Row lurched away from me like I was fire. His condomed p***s materialized from my body one inch at a time, wet and entirely too big to be nestled inside anything that wasn’t a lifeboat. He yanked off the condom, tying it and zipping himself up.

“Please tell me I’m suffering from a brain hemorrhage and not really seeing what I’m seeing.” Dylan tramped her way to us, her neon pink ankle boots chomping the pebbles beneath her. She wore a red leather skirt she’d borrowed from me, knee-length plaid socks, and a black sweater. She looked adorable. Also, pissed off. Mostly pissed off. Way more pissed off than I’d anticipated, to be honest.

Row tossed his leather jacket over my torso, and that was when I remembered he’d removed my shirt and bra sometime during our sexcapade.

Also—why wasn’t I moving? Talking? Breathing? Oh. That’s right. Because my go-to during fight-or-flight situations was the third option—freeze. I’d simply turn to stone and play dead.

“Cal!” Dylan stopped in front of me, her dark, upturned eyes glittering with tears. “What the…what the s**t, dude?!” She tossed her arms in the air like they were boneless noodles before pointing at Row. “That’s my brother. What do you think you’re doing?”

That was a very fair question. To which I had no good answer.

Dylan’s face was devastating. Her full lower lip trembled, and her apple cheeks were stained pink. I had completely miscalculated how much she’d care about this. I peered behind her shoulder. I noticed Tucker, the beefy bully we both hated, sitting in the driver’s seat of the car that had driven her here, pretending to read his insurance papers. Probably scared Row would make a punching bag out of him if he realized he was here.

What was Dylan doing with this douche canoe? Was she planning to make out with him here?

Now was decidedly not a great time to interrogate her.

“Dammit, Dot, say something!” Dylan grabbed me by the arms and shook me hard, desperate and panicked. The leather jacket fell from my chest. I was now topless. And anxious. So anxious I couldn’t breathe. The flashbacks poured out.

Naked.

Defenseless.

Attacked.

“That’s enough, Dylan.” Row’s voice was pure gravel.

For the first time in my life, I witnessed my best friend ignoring her older brother. Usually, she treated him with godlike respect. Which was maybe why she was so pissed right now? There was no other way to explain it, since she looked ready to murder someone. Ideally me.

Still, I was incapable of producing any sound, let alone words of apology. I was shell-shocked, caught red-handed doing something I shouldn’t have. Namely, my best friend’s older brother. I sifted through my mind for a plausible reason for what had just happened.

He was my one chance to lose my virginity. I’m broken.

I’ve actually had a crush on him for ages. I never told you because I care so deeply about our friendship.

I didn’t even plan to do it. It just…happened.

But they all sounded dumb, even in my head. I had messed up. And I needed to pay for it.

“Stop this right now.” Row stepped between us, bunching Dylan’s wrists behind her back and pulling her away from me. “You can’t kill her,” he said dryly.

“Give me one good reason!” She kicked the air manically, trying to break free and throw punches my way.

“For one thing, we can’t afford the legal fees.”

“We can always hide her body,” she spat out, wiggling ferally in his arms. She had no idea how much her words triggered me. A scream clogged my throat.

“You can’t even hide your birth control from Mom.” Row rolled his eyes.

“You’re on birth control?” I gasped. “You never told me that.”

“Chill. It’s to regulate my hormones. You know I haven’t even gone past second bas—” Dylan frowned, catching herself. “Hold on a minute, why am I explaining myself to you? We’re not even friends anymore.”

What?

Tears sprung into my eyes. Blistering white panic gave way to realization: I had slept with my best friend’s older brother and she’d caught me. Maybe I didn’t think it was a big deal, but what did I know? I had no siblings, so I’d never had to deal with anything like this.

Row was leaving for Paris next week, I was leaving for New York tomorrow, and I had just thrown away fourteen years of friendship for the dubious pleasure of being railed by a man with a rolling pin instead of a p***s.

“It was my idea.” Row’s voice sounded disinterested and aloof. I didn’t know why he said that. It absolutely hadn’t been.

“Don’t protect her!” Dylan finally broke free from Row’s grasp, pushing at her big brother’s chest. Her tears flew sideways. He didn’t even budge. Dude was built like a Marvel superhero. “She’s a selfish, mean, heartless b***h who betrayed me!”

“I’m a selfish, mean, heartless asshole who did the same.” His lips barely moved, but a muscle in his chiseled jaw jumped. “Yet I don’t see you plotting my murder.”