When Men are Excellent at…Persuasion

I have a brand new dark mafia piece that just released. Now, it’s not entirely traditional, but you already know how I like to mix things up. The Specialists are highly trained men in various professions tasked to hunt down and secure precious pieces – art, diamonds…women. Imagine their tactics.

Hungry for a taste?

PERSUASION

As a waiter approached, I grabbed a glass of champagne. Why not indulge? Blend in as the Americans would say. I walked toward the entertainment wing, scanning the perimeter before leaning against the doorjamb. As I’d suspected, Wyland was holdingpersuasion_full court, entertaining several garishly dressed female guests and merely two males. His boisterous voice permeated the expansive space, his laughter as fake as his knowledge on fine art.

He was a schemer, a true con artist in every sense of the word, but I had to give him credit. He’d amassed a significant fortune with his ‘oh shucks’ demeanor. He was also a dangerous man, his powerful tentacles wrapped around both influential corporate moguls as well as hard-core criminals. I took a sip of champagne then held the crystal stem into the light. Given the intoxication level of the guests, I imagined they had no idea their fabulous host was serving rotgut bubbly.

True to form, there were several beautiful pieces of art and jewelry positioned in glass cases placed in strategic locations in the oversized living room. Several of the guests were oohing and aahing over the collection. The very empty case located within an arm’s length of Mr. Worthington gave me a smile. He’d presented his finest piece first, locking it away in what he believed to be a secure vault, likely preventing me from collecting the valuable piece too easily.

Without use of entirely different tactics. However, by this time tomorrow, the diamond would be in a more protected environment.

I’d enjoyed hearing all about his priceless art during a by-invitation-only golf outing, the opportunity allowing me to provide pictures of my collection. His excitement in seeing my erotic paintings had been… fascinating. The gilded invitation to the costume party had arrived only three days later.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an exquisite woman, her beauty unequaled in the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her but not only because she was stunning. She was also a thief. I was amused as hell as I watched her flitting from guest to guest, sliding her hand into the pockets of unsuspecting men. She was quite talented as a pickpocket, more so than the majority I’d run across over my years. She also managed to expertly slide whatever she’d obtained into her small clutch, the men far too mesmerized by her attention to notice her true intentions.

I chuckled, lifting my glass in appreciation. Her actions were ballsy as hell, creating the kind of desire burning deep within that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I envisioned her naked body draped against a cloak of red velvet, her platinum blonde hair sweeping over the satin pillow. I could see her pert little mouth wrapped around my cock while her dazzling eyes stared up at me, her wrists shackled in iron.

For a few delicious seconds, I envisioned fucking her.

Using her luscious body in any way I desired.

Controlling her.

Owning her.

Hmmm… I hadn’t allowed myself such a provocative thought in years.

My shaft stirred at the thought, the darkness that dwelled within me rearing its ugly head.

She continued her task, oblivious that I was carefully watching her every move. She’d obviously been invited, several of the guests acknowledging her warmly. When she finally seemed to notice me, her eyebrows lifted, a slight smile crossing her shimmering face.

We played cat and mouse for a full five minutes, her expression laced with seduction.

But only with an ulterior motive in mind.

I took another sip of champagne as she headed in my direction, likely prepared to attempt the same action with a man who could eat her alive. I purposely looked away, once again scanning the room. If her actions were discovered, she could blow my chance at recovering the diamond. I worked alone, little more than a predator of the night.

Any kind of hindrance I didn’t need.

I concentrated my energy on my keen observations. Mr. Worthington had certainly been able to gather a group of some of the most prominent citizens in New Orleans. From judges to state senators, wealthy moguls to sports giants, it would appear that the notorious thief was prepared to show off portions of his collection. This should prove to be a fascinating evening.

Unfortunately, a nagging instinct had kicked in, a reminder to be extremely cautious. Far too much time and money had been put into this mission.

She studied me for a few seconds before taking a decided step sideways, perhaps determining that I wasn’t an easy mark. I felt her gaze dropping to my glass.

“Not to your taste?”

The purring quality of her voice yanked at my attention immediately, the tone provocative in every way. As I tipped my head, catching a glimpse of her beautiful porcelain skin and aristocratic nose forced my cock to push against my zipper. When I shifted my gaze down the length of her voluptuous body, my balls tightened. The little black dress she was wearing left little to the imagination; the deep V in both the front and back allowing me a stunning view of her rounded breasts. The thigh-high slit created a sinful array of filthy thoughts, desires that I had no place feeling.

I’d always been drawn to women who disobeyed the law, finding them more irresistible than those who performed in the appropriate manner. Unfortunately, this was the wrong time to be delving into my own personal desires. I had an entire network of professionals who’d worked countless hours putting this scheme together.

However, I liked to think of what we were doing as righting wrongs.

A few seconds passed as the music changed, Wyland motioned for one of the waiters to refresh his drink.

She stood with one arm crossed at her waist, the other swirling a glass of champagne, her body rocking forward and backward. I couldn’t help but notice her long leg was positioned in such a way the slit had crawled dangerously high on her upper thigh. She appeared bored, even nibbling on her bottom lip, the very one that was stained a delicious ruby red.

I took a deep breath, inhaling her exotic perfume. The scent alone was enough to fuel a series of dark fantasies, igniting my own sadistic desires. As the same waiter as before passed by, I slid the glass onto the sterling silver tray, both amused and aroused. “Not in the least. I prefer something with more… elegance.”

She slowly turned her head, narrowing her eyes yet I was able to see the shimmer in the mesmerizing emerald green color. Sadly, the colorful mask hid the majority of her face, but I had no doubt that hidden behind the feathers and rhinestones was a gorgeous woman. The electricity between us crackled and the moment she dragged her tongue across her lips, I couldn’t help but smile. “A man of distinction. I appreciate that very much.” She pulled the glass to her lips, taking a small sip. “You are right. This is godawful. Disgusting in fact.”

Her long blonde curls trailed halfway down her back and the way she fingered the crystal stem was quite a scintillating draw. “I prefer a more robust flavor in everything.” I’d always been a man of discerning tastes, although my dominating desires off putting to the majority of women. I also hadn’t succumbed to my carnal hungers for several months, my work taking me from one continent to another preventing anything but a one-night stand. Not my style.

“Hmmm…” She darted a glance from right to left, finally offering a slight wrinkle of her nose as she inched closer. “What would you say if I told you that I knew exactly where the wine cellar is? I know for a fact that Mr. Worthington has an extremely amazing collection of fine wines and spirits locked away.”

“I would say you’re very resourceful.” Perhaps getting her away from the mark wasn’t a bad idea.

“Are you game for a… taste?”

“I’m curious. Would that mean that you are a friend of the family?”

She snorted lightly, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Oh, hell, no. I just happen to know where the true goodies are hidden. Mr. Worthington throws parties nearly every other week. Not only am I resourceful, but I’m a girl who enjoys taking chances. What about you? Do you dare indulge in things that are… risky? Or are you simply one of the same conservative assholes with huge bank accounts and even larger bellies pretending to have chutzpa?”

Risky. She obviously had no idea who she was talking to. The true risk was not following the order of things that I’d carefully laid out. Granted, as I calculated the time I had in order to retrieve the stolen object, I realized that I had at least a few minutes to spare. Why did this woman entice me as so few had done before? I was actually curious as to how far she planned on going with her game, my cock aching. “Do not issue a challenge to a man you’ve never met unless you’re prepared to face the consequences.”

A seductive smile crossed her face as she darted her eyes down the length of me before beckoning the same waiter, shoving her glass down with a slight thud. “How about a dance with me, just to make certain I’m worth taking a chance on? That is, if you can handle the heat?”

No woman had ever challenged me before, certainly not in this manner. I eased my glass onto the same tray before taking her hand. The level of electricity shooting down the length of my arm was unusual, tightening my balls. I pulled her close, using a single finger to slide several strands of hair away from her long neck.

Her lower lip trembled, her stunning emerald eyes opening wide. It was easy to tell her reaction was the same, our attraction one of a filthy nature. I could devour her in one sitting, lapping every drop of cream from her sweet little pussy, but only if she was a very good girl.

“Accepted,” I stated in a commanding tone.

“Yes. Okay.” She faltered only slightly before planting the palm of her hand against my chest, digging her fingers into the material of my jacket.

I swept her into the middle of the few couples already dancing, pulling her even closer. The feel of her in my arms was exquisite, dragging the darkness from deep within me to the surface. The vile things I wanted to do to her only fueled the embers. I slid my arm around her waist, forcing her heated body against mine. The music was perfect, the sultry strains of the blues adding to the mystery.

There were no words said as we danced, her eyes never leaving mine. As the scent of her feminine wiles filled my nostrils, my thoughts turned even more intense. I could tell she was wet, her hunger as raw as mine.

She shifted her hips back and forth, a slight moan slipping past her lips. Everything about her was tempting, my desire increasing.

“Who are you, Zorro?” she finally whispered.

“A very dangerous man. Do you still want to play?”

There was only a slight hesitation and as she tilted her head until our lips were mere centimeters apart, her whisper became rocket fuel.

“Absolutely.”

“Then you will do exactly as I say no matter what I ask. Are we clear?”

I was indeed a savage man, a barbarian that she should run away from in fear, but instead, she’d chosen to tempt the ravaging beast.

She dragged her tongue across her lips nervously, blinking several times before issuing a single nod.

While the moment was unusual, I knew without a doubt that one day, I would take her.

Command her.

Own her…

What do you think? Tasty? As always, FREE to read if you have a KU subscription.

Kisses and spanks…

Piper

Purchase Persuasion

Becoming an Assassin’s Prey

I have a brand new dark mafia piece out, but…with a twist. He’s an assassin as well as in line for a throne of very influential and dangerous men. She’s an FBI agent hell bent on taking him down. When they meet? Sparks fly. Will she cross the line or will the cat and mouse game end in incarceration? Hmmm… You’ll have to read to find out.

PREY

Darkness…

Foreboding to some. To him, the ominous shadows were comforting, allowing him complete anonymity in order to perform the jobs he’d been paid well to execute. Tonight was no exception and he was exhilarated, adrenaline flowing. He craved the chase, the prey_fullmoment when he locked onto his target. Every assignment was unusual. Different countries. Powerful individuals. Beautiful women. Incredible food and drink. His skills allowed for careful selection, the very reason he was still alive.

Even though there were strict requirements.

He moved through the darkness, finding the house with ease. The mark had evidently caught wind there was a contract on his life, leaving his usual environment in utter disarray. And somehow, the man thought he’d remain safe in the countryside, a little house in the woods that no one was supposed to know about. Snickering, he eased the gun from his jacket, adding the silencer as he headed toward the rear, all the while scanning the perimeter. Surprises he didn’t need. At least the fucker would be alone, an easy target.

The entire back of the house was full of windows, the massive set of sliding doors peering out onto a lush garden. There were no other houses in close proximity, another perk of this particular job. He inched closer, able to see the mark sitting in an overstuffed chair directly in front of a roaring fire.

Like taking candy from a baby.

He moved into the most optimal position, holding the weapon in both hands. A split second before he pulled the trigger, he jerked back, cursing under his breath. The man was supposed to be alone. Fuck!He shoved the gun back into his pocket and headed straight through the woods toward the awaiting vehicle. Yanking out his phone, he studied the reception. Just enough. The call was answered within two rings.

“Yes?”

“Mission aborted,” he half whispered as he opened the driver’s door.

There was a long pause.

“Why?”

“I have my reasons. To be completed at a later time.” Ending the call, he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. He was a cold-blooded killer but even he had his scruples, no matter what the blessed consortium required of him.

He would never complete a contract in front of a child.

* * *

Monte Carlo

Eight days later

“Do you know what I want?” she purred as she slipped first one then her other arm around Wrath’s neck, her red lips glistening even in the shadowed light.

Ricardo ‘Wrath’ Constantino had been with many women over the years, devouring several varieties, but French girls were usually far more discerning about their tastes in men. Cherry certainly didn’t seem to understand that if she accepted several drinks then invited a killer to her condo she could face the ultimate demise. Granted, she wasn’t his target, nor would she know of his profession. However, the irony was delightful. “Now, what could that possibly be?” he asked as he brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek.

“I love your commanding manner. So sexy.” Cherry clung to him, her eyes holding the haze of intoxication. “I hunger for a taste of that hard body of yours.” She kissed his lips, darting out her tongue and dragging the tip across the seam of his mouth.

He allowed her to toy with him, teasing as she slid one hand down his chest. Sadly, he’d grown bored of the evening. Even winning at Blackjack didn’t have any effect on his sour mood. What did entice him was the gorgeous redhead sitting at another Blackjack table, the scarlet dress the perfect complement to her stunning long legs and hourglass figure. He was hungry, having played the perfect gentleman during his time spent in the amazing city.

What he could easily see was that she was an expert at a slight of hand, kiting the system. He was amused as well as aroused by her brazen attempt at winning. If she was caught, the punishment would be extremely harsh.

“Cherry, you are a lovely woman, but I believe I see someone I know. An unexpected surprise. I’m certain you can understand.”

Pouting her ruby-stained lips, she lifted a single eyebrow, her index finger sliding back and forth across his Adam’s apple. When she knew he was serious, she huffed. “Merde. Fine. Have it your way, but you’re missing out.”

He waited until she walked away, flipping him her middle finger in frustration, her next set of words spoken with a nasty tone. “Je m’en fous!

She’d consumed one too many glasses of champagne. She didn’t give a fuck, eh? Well, then neither would he.

Wrath studied the lovely redhead at the other table as she worked, taking her time and winning only small bets. Even the card dealer, a trained expert, seemed to have no idea about her exceptional skills. He took a sip of his bourbon, debating exactly what to do. His cock ached, throbbing against his tuxedo pants, a clear sign that he needed to meet her. Few women had any effect on him, fewer still holding his interest for even this long.

After she won yet another hand, he polished off his drink and moved in the direction of the table, taking the last spot, which happened to be on her left. He acknowledged the players, waiting to greet her last. “Madame.” His French accent was one that the majority of women found endearing. He had a feeling this woman couldn’t care less simply by her caustic body language.

“Miss.” She gave him a once-over as the dealer positioned the new cards, yawning after a few seconds.

His amusement turned into raging hunger, his balls tightening.

“Fascinating,” he whispered so only she could hear.

“Are you flirting with me?” she asked in a haughty tone.

He chuckled, darting his eyes in her direction. She was American and appeared to be all alone, although looks could be deceiving. “I rarely flirt because I usually get what I want without question.”

“Ah, you’rethatkind of man.”

“And which kind is that?”

“An asshole.” Purring, she took a sip of her wine, shifting her stool and allowing him a more captivating look at her legs.

Wrath gave her a slight nod of respect. The woman was tough as nails. He could only imagine her behavior in bed.

As the cards were turned, he watched her intently, studying the way she was able to cheat. There was something odd about her mannerisms, so polished and perfect. He was more than impressed, her abilities surpassing some of the best he’d known. She was truly magnificent.

Drinks were brought, the players dropping out one by one after mere minutes.

After she won yet another hand, Wrath leaned over, whispering in her ear, “You’re very good at what you do. I’m impressed and that never happens.”

She only slightly tipped her head. He could easily tell that she was aggravated at the interruption. The bet she had on the table was the largest of the night, one that would easily net her a cool fifty G’s. “And what might that be?”

The sound of her voice was alluring, seductive in the soft inflections. “You’re a cheat. How do I know this? Because I was hired and trained to spot even those with utter finesse.” He allowed the words to sink in, his cock throbbing as her porcelain face flushed, turning a lovely shade of pink.

“How dare you! I’m no cheat,” she whispered, reaching for her wine in her usual confident manner.

“And you and I both know you’re lying.” Wrath gathered his meager winnings and moved away from the table, tossing a hundred dollar chip toward the dealer. “Thank you, sir. This table is far too hot for me.”

“Thank you,” the dealer said with a smile then glanced at the remaining players, the tip understood.

Wrath slid his hands into his pockets, taking long strides out the main door then leaning against the wall. There would be no more winning for the lovely lady tonight. If his calculations were correct, she would be coming through the door in…

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The redhead was on cue, bolting through the door. Instead of any concept of fear on her face, she was furious, her eyes scanning the corridor. Seconds later, she jerked up her long dress, cursing what the Americans called a blue streak as she strode in the opposite direction. “Goddamn motherfucking asshole.”

Wrath moved out of the shadows, following closely behind. She wasn’t a true card shark, or if she was, she was certainly taking calculated risks. Perhaps he needed to get to the bottom of her true identity. The last thing he needed was trouble prior to fulfilling his contract.

Especially since the mark was MIA.

His long legs were more than a match for a woman in shockingly high heels, his hand wrapping around her arm and jerking her to the side.

“You. What do you want?” she snapped, struggling to get out of his hold. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Shh… Such language. Now, we can handle this situation one of two ways, which will be entirely your decision.” Wrath kept his voice low, certainly not loud enough to register to anyone in close proximity. He crowded her space, drinking in her exotic perfume. Visions of shackling her naked to his bed popped into his nefarious mind.

Hissing, she yanked again, almost getting out of his grasp. “I’ll ask you one. Last. Time. Who the hell do you think you are?”

She certainly carried an air of arrogance, something he did appreciate, especially in a woman. Time to call her bluff. “Someone who knows a thief when he sees one. As I was saying, you can come with me now or I’ll simply call in the local policia.”

The single tic in the corner of her mouth was the only giveaway that she was bothered in any manner. Otherwise, she played the situation as she had the cards.

Calculated.

Policia?” she mused, her eyes flashing.

He’d made a single mistake, one that could cost him. Tonight, he was a Frenchman, the terminology entirely different than his native country. “The Monte Carlo police division is well known throughout the world as being brutal.” The lie sounded plausible. The second shimmer of her eyes indicated she wasn’t entirely certain whether he was telling the truth.

“You have the situation wrong. I need to see some identification, Mr. Know it All,” she barked, throwing out her arm, beckoning with her fingers.

Chuckling, he was becoming more and more fascinated with the woman.

Well, what do you think? Imagine the chemistry!

I hope you purchase and remember, FREE to read if  you have a KU subscription!

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