Trophy 13

Bella sat on the edge of the bed. She wore the chain around her waist like it was some fashion accessory, looping a length of it up over her shoulder like a feather boa. Her legs were crossed. Her stockings were off and her heels on.

“Well, Frank?” she crooned, her voice hoarse—maybe she’d been screaming. It made her sound smoky, like a lounge singer on break. “Did I tell the truth?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t kill them, did you? I can tell. You’d look different if you killed them. Right now you look… frustrated.”

She leaned back on outstretched hands, highlighting her upthrust breasts, and her legs worked against each other where they were crossed. Silky skin rubbing silky skin. Frank wondered what it felt like. It had to be good; she kept doing it.

“Can I get a cigarette?” she asked.

“I’ll pick some up.”

“And an ash tray,” Bella said. “I’d hate to ruin the ambiance with a lot of butts on the floor. Don’t forget the lighter.”

“I won’t. But I’ll hold onto it.”

Bella theatrically looked around. “What are you afraid I’ll burn? You’re not holding it against me that I called you a bad word or two, are you?”

“Your information was good. Don’t get cocky. I could’ve beat it out of you in half the time.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Bella sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “Do you like how I look now? Pretty? You want me to keep looking pretty for you, Frank?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“There’s not much else for me to do, Frank. How about you bring in a radio? Maybe one of those little Jap TV sets? Or would that break the budget?”

“You’re not on vacation. You’re here to provide information.”

“Is that what I’m here for?” Bella turned her head and ran her lips over the length of chain that covered her shoulder. “Why did you take me, huh? Why not one of the buttonmen or torpedoes? They’d know more about the business than me, you must see that…”

“They’re expendable. You’re not. A pressure point to all Beluccis. I can use that.”

“Yeah? How are you using it, huh? Just taking me, making them look for me, what does that accomplish?”

“It puts them off-balance,” Frank stressed.

“They’ll get balanced again,” she told him. “If you were smart—”

She trailed off.

“If I were smart, I’d be the one chained to a bed? That where that sentence was going?”

“Don’t be so smug. I’ve had some damn good times chained to a bed.”

Frank scoffed: “The woman who needs to be double-stuffed to get off.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Don’t all guys dream of two women at the same time?” Bella smirked. “Maybe you could kidnap another girl. The bed’s big enough. And it’d be nice having someone to smuggle up with when the nights get cold.”

He snorted. Sick bitch. If she thought she could get to him with a few ribald cracks…

Bella leaned back further. Resting her weight on her elbows instead of her hands. She opened her legs, spread her thighs. He saw her panties, supple cotton coursing over her mons, her cleft, the wetness at the core of her spilling out. It was no act. He could see her breath coming harder, punching through her parted lips, while a red flush crested her abundant curves. She was turned on at the very idea—or just aroused at being able to screw with him.

Perhaps both.

“Judge me all you want, but I was coming my brains out when you interrupted me,” Bella purred. “In fact, I was about to have the big one. One huge come—I might even have squirted. You cost me that, Frank. And I’m not helping you anymore until you make it up to me. How about it, Punisher? Think you can get me off? Or are you just another Vincenzo? Happy to have my hot ass under lock and key, but not man enough to do anything with it?”

Incensed by her hot words, Frank looked at her and the charisma of her appearance hit him with fresh power. Frank felt himself gaping at her, like he was slack-jawed—unable to avoid letting her beauty flood into him, only able to restrain himself a little, to keep up the stoic mien and not show how much she was affecting him. But on the inside, blood rushed to his groin, bringing his erection to throbbing life. It elicited pain from the sudden tightness of his trousers.

It angered him that Bella could affect him so potently. Act this way when she had all the privileges of a debutante. She chose the life of a Mafia whore when her beauty could’ve opened doors to someplace good, someplace worthy of her loveliness.

“You really are a slut.”

Bella was unrepentant. She just about laughed, eyes raking his tensed body, settling on the rise of his cock. “Then it shouldn’t be too hard to make me come, then. Do it, killer. Fuck me!”