For some fucked up reason, I had a dream last night about the first time I ever got laid. It wasn't grand or anything too aesthetic. My father had just passed away and things weren't looking up for Jas and I. In-between having to manage the house and join the 'business' the pressure seemed to make me crack.
It was a rainy Friday night, and I found myself pissed drunk by an alleyway in the Red District. I couldn't even recall the name of the hooker who came on to me, I knew she smelled like lemon candy and cigarettes, and she had on the itchiest red wig.
We had sex under the rain, next to a pile of beaten up thugs, left outside to show as an example. I was underaged, and she didn't look a day under her thirties. I was out of it for the most part, and when I finally came to, I was half naked, she was gone and so was my father's wallet which I had on me.
And since then, sex had been a no meaning sport. I felt good, that much was granted, but aside the influx of lust, there was nothing that got me hooked on it.
At least, that was what I wanted myself to believe.
"You're finally up." Ferrari's voice sounded from beside me, furiously pulling me out of my thoughts. I felt like shit and could barely get myself out of bed.
"What happened?" I managed to ask, blinking until my eyes adjusted to the light in the room. I had lived in this house for most of my life, and had only ever been in two bedrooms.
Mine, and at one time my father's.
"You passed out, right before I could lay my hands on you." Ferrari said, then wheeled away from the bedframe towards the dreser.
"Passed out?" That didn't sound right. My legs were too weak to move a damn muscle. It couldn't have been nothing.
"Whatever you're imagining didn't happen. Sorry to burst your bubble, but your weak body gave out after one jacking off."
"That's…ngh…" I closed my eyes as I tried to sit up straight, "That's not possible. I remember…" I placed my hand to the side of my head, and knitted my brows in anguish.
What did I remember?
Frankly speaking, I had bigger problems to worry over. "My body, what happened to it last night?" I voiced out my thoughts. The fever I felt had subsided, and I could think clearly again.
I think.
Ferrari took the liberty to answer. "You're not as smart as I pegged you to be. For one, you went into the store yourself, despite the line of work you're involved in…."
"That's rich coming from the man who asked me to."
He glared sharply, "You have men hovering around you for a reason. If I were your enemy, I would've shot you down the moment you walked into the shop." His words were a hundred percent right, hell he sounded a lot like Bronx did while scolding me.
I reached for the sheets, only to notice I was dressed in my dark blue nightwear. This bastard had changed my clothes while I was asleep.
Pulling the black sheets up to my chest, I asked, "How did you know I went into the shop?"
"This." He picked up something from the dresser and brandished it so I could see.
A gasp escaped my lips, as the memories came flooding back to me. I had completely forgotten all about that little candy I took from the shop's counter. It all made fucking sense why I behaved the way I did last night.
Ferrari had an all knowing look on his face. "Judging by your reaction it's safe to say you understand what exactly happened last night." He stated, but still went on to explain things.
"I found this wrapper when I went to inspect your car last night. It's a well know stimulant sold for extreme play, laced with a heavy dose of aphrodisiac. Amaturers know better than to even take a whiff of it." A humourless chuckle escaped his lips. "I don't know if you're clumsy or just a fucking idiot. You gnawed on two of these last night and came crying for me to fuck you. A little shameless aren't we?"
His eyes were mocking me, even more than his words. Last night was my loss, no matter how horny that candy made me, I shouldn't have asked this bastard for a hand. He wasn't going to let me hear the fucking end of it.
"Don't get it twisted kid, with my frame of mind last night I would've done it with the first person I saw. It was nothing short of a mistake, one I'll never make again." I spat out, glaring sternly at him.
I made one lousy mistake, everybody made them. We didn't do anything, so there was nothing to regret, we were both men and very straight. Pursuing this conversation any further was a waste of both our times.
Weakly I got out of bed and tried to march over to the door. Jas must've been up and looking for us both. My mind spiraled to Bronx's warning, I still had to take care of the fuckers at fifth, and make sure the Russians kept their noses out of our business.
My head was filled with far too many thoughts, that I failed to hear the footsteps from behind me, until they were too close to avoid.
In one swift move, Ferrari pinned both my hands behind my back and pushed his weight against my body, pressing my chest against the door.
"How…the hell are you standing up?" He was supposed to be on a wheelchair! I shot both of his legs, so how the hell was he walking?!
Ferrari's free hand fiercely grabbed onto my left ass and give it a firm squeeze. I gulped and raised my shoulders, paralyzed for a split second. And then, the anger seeped in, I bucked my hips in protest, but he continued to grope me, causing a hell of a ruckus.
"The hell are you doing…"
"I should be asking you that! Just what the hell do you think you're doing here?" he angrily demanded into my ear.
I gritted my teeth, "You're a dead man! A dead man Ferrari!" He had no idea who the hell he was messing with.
With no effort, he flipped my body over and pinned my hands over my head, I winced and struggled, but he was just too strong for me to witstand.
Fear overwhelmed me, it had been a long time since someone made me feel this vulnerable in the past. What would he do to me if I didn't do as he said? Why the hell was I still in this sort of situation after all those years?
Tracing his finger down my cheek, his eyes loomed over my body with a hint of disapproval.
"You're afraid of me." He observed in a somewhat softer tone.
"You're a lunatic!" I spat out. I wanted to spit at him, but I didn't want to die because of some careless act. I couldn't leave Jas all alone.
"There's no one to blame for me acting this way except for you, Coco. You made me this way, so you have to take responsibility." his finger trailed down my pulsating neck, and slipped through the V-shaped opening of my night shirt.
My body weakened under his touch. His hands were bigger and thicker than mine, despite him being five years younger.
"Don't blame your fucked up head on me."
He laughed and leaned in until the only thing separating us were our noses. Gazing piercingly at me, he told me. "You were smart to be afraid of me, because, for these next two months I'm going to rewrite what pleasure means to your body. To the extent that you won't be able to fucking get it up if it isn't with me." His hand which was on my chest ran down furiously to my groin and gave it a hard squeeze.
I flung my head back against the door, to stop myself from crying out.
With merciless eyes he said over my silent whimper, "There's no more running away, Coco."