Fabro and Flavio, Noah's younger brother, were sitting in a booth, drinking beer, and talking about something. His brother's hand was around one of the dancers’ shoulders and she was kissing his neck shamelessly. As if she didn't realize that the guy was actually preoccupied with the conversation. However, per usual, Fabro didn't seem to mind.
Elio looked at the younger Falcone once again. It was probably the first time he was here. There were a couple of occasions when they’d met at social gatherings and a couple of business meetings that Father had with the boss but they had never talked before. Let alone interact.
From time to time Noah came to the club to fuck women, usually pole dancers. It was the easiest way for most Made Men, and as it was, they couldn't be bothered to make a push. The hunt was thrilling but a complete waste of time. Elio never really saw the appeal of chasing after some chick. There were plenty more fish in the sea. Willing ones.
He squeezed through the crowd. "Hey," he greeted them.
"Finally!" Fabro called out upon seeing his brother. At this moment Noah joined them in the booth. They shook hands, sitting down. "Did Hunter give you a hard time?”
“No."
His waitress did.
But he wouldn't say it. Since he still didn't know what to make of it, he preferred to sit on everything that had happened that night. What was important, was that he got the money and the old guy would probably remember how his fist felt colliding with his jaw for a few weeks at least.
Hopefully, forever, since he busted his knuckles and didn't want it to go to waste.
"Job got tough?" asked Noah, raising his eyebrow.
It could be taken as a simple question, but with him, it was never that. Being vigilant was in his job description. Especially after his father’s monumental fuck ups, as his successor he clearly wanted to be better.
And he was.
Elio smirked, taking a sip of his alcohol. "Not even close," he said.
Right at that moment one of the girls came up to them. She was a dancer that had been working there for quite a while. Confident and fucking hot, as Elio thought. Long, lean legs and six-inch heels were what he saw instantly. Then, as his eyes moved higher, he noticed a short, tight, red skirt and a black, lacy bralette that accented her most likely fake boobs. Not that it mattered. The bigger, the better.
A small smile pulled at her red, heart-shaped lips. A silent invitation that Elio needed. He got up, excusing himself. The men barely acknowledged his leave. They knew that at some point in the night, he would come back. He grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her towards the stairs to one of the VIP rooms.
As the door closed, the music became a little less vibrant. People could at least hear their thoughts; not that Elio was planning on doing much thinking here this time around. The rooms could be used for many different purposes but usually for business meetings or fucking. The latter appealed to the man more and more as he saw the girl undressing him with her eyes.
She sat down on a big leather couch and Elio came up closer, standing in front of her, appraising her.
The whole room was red due to the neon lights coming from a few pieces of furniture. It added to the atmosphere which was already tight and euphoric.
He cocked his head, adjusting his dick through his pants but quickly pushed them down, along with his briefs. He fisted her ponytail, holding her head closer to his groin.
"Suck it," he said simply.
There was no hesitation on her face. She gladly took him up on his order and opened her mouth, closing it on him. As she wasn't prepared for how big he was, she grazed his cock with teeth, however, Elio only grew under the pressure. He didn't mind rough foreplay one bit. Unless the girl wouldn't be careful not to get out of the line.
It wasn't their first time fucking, so he knew she would make it worth his while. He took off his shirt as the girl kept on sucking. Moans kept escaping her lips and Elio started to believe that she was getting off on it more than he was. Skillfully, she kept on licking him from the base up, her eyes never leaving his. Girls thought that keeping eye contact with a man was the way to make the experience more sensual. It might be true, but not for Elio. Not when he didn't care about the girl, whatsoever. She wanted to fuck, he wanted to end this on a good note. That's it.
She dug her long nails in his thighs, scratching them while he came between her lips. Hot, thick liquid filled her throat as she swallowed it down.
Elio pulled out, taking a seat and helping the dancer straddle him.
The girl's fingers trailed down his chest, her lips against his neck. He kept on staring at the wall cabinet full of alcohol, thinking which one he would drink after he fucked her rough. His hand travelled up her spine. Her skin covered in goosebumps as a light breeze tucked on her body.
She moaned positioning herself over his legs, pressing her pussy against his cock, humping it slowly. She was still wearing panties, adding to the sensation. Feeling the heat, he shifted even closer, grabbing her throat, however, he didn't put much pressure on it.
Another moan escaped her lips. "Elio."
It was quite ridiculous that she got so into this that she needed to say his name out loud. Even more ridiculous that he wouldn't do the same. Not just because he didn't know her name. It might be Emma or Emily. But his mind went back to a certain waitress that worked in the diner under Las Vegas Famiglia’s protection.
Savannah.
Her bright blue
