Chapter 6 6

MARK

That was the most awkward situation I'd ever gotten into.

I mean, who does she think she is? I got my share of arse and pussy whenever the hell I wanted. And I got them in bulk, too! Why would I need to beat around the bush just for a feel?

The people in the store kept throwing me crazy looks even after the lady I helped from splitting her skull on the floor walked out.

There was the particular grandma who kept looking away from the carrots to steal a glance at the perv who touched a 'helpless' lady's arse.

Pathetic!

I gritted my teeth as I walked to the end of the shelf and snatched three chocolate bars.

When I turned back, too many eyes were on me. The little patience I had left flew out of the window.

"What the fuck you imps lookin' at?!!!" I yelled. It got the desired effect. Seconds later, the store was back to normal.

I went around the shelves, fuming and picking things that were not even necessary. On second thought, I grabbed a loaf of garlic bread and some apple juice for Kenzo. Poor guy probably skipped lunch again.

The attendant, who was a young girl of about eighteen, smiled at me as I checked out.

"Good evening, sir."

"This is the second time you are greeting me," I said blankly, my eyes taking in her high school appearance. "How can I help you?"

"Oh, nothing sir."

She quickly lowered her eyes and continued checking out the items.

Fucking idiots! I got funny looks for helping a lady out, but nobody said anything to the attendant for inappropriately looking at me.

If I was the one behind the desk, sliding items across the censor, while giving a customer seductive looks, the entire store would have called the cops.

I was fuming like an old man deprived of sleep. I had left the house to clear my head, only to get into a more depressing issue.

What the fuck?! I could fuck whoever I wanted in Madrid, married or not.

Women were like toys to me, willing and always ready to be used. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Thank you," the attendant said and handed me my paper bag.

With a frown, I swiped my card, picked up my item, and started back home.

I was almost home before I thought of having a drink. I was too close to turn back, so I continued my march home.

"Good evening, boss," about three of my boys greeted in unison. They were seated outside in a small circle passing around a stick of rolled weed.

"Mmm." I sighed and started up the front porch, pissed as hell.

"Welcome, boss."

It was Kenzo, standing at the bottom of the stairs with a gun strapped to his shoulder.

"What's going on?" I quirked my brows at his shoulder.

"This?" he asked, pointing to the gun. "Oh, nothing. Tonight, I am joining the men mounting the front porch."

"Oh." That was one thing about Kenzo. When the others took knives, he would strap a pistol to his thigh. And when they took shotguns, he would find a way to sneak in a Uzi.

It was sometimes funny how overprepared he always acted.

Well, that particular characteristic of him had saved the lives of countless boys of mine on the streets.

"I need some privacy," I said as soon as my eyes landed on the lady sprawled on the couch. The face of the lady from the store came again. I could see the picture of contempt in her eyes. What the fuck?! The anger I thought had dissipated suddenly resurfaced. "Lock the door behind you and don't let anyone in."

He understood immediately. "Yes, boss," he said and quietly left.

I walked to the couch, admiring her beautiful skin gleaming from the orange rays coming from the fireplace.

I slid a hand into her gown. She opened her eyes immediately and gasped.

I clamped my palm over her mouth. "Shh, it's just me."

"Oh, Mr Mark." She sat up immediately and looked into my eyes.

I lifted the gown until it was around her waist. "Good, you're not wearing panties."

"Errm... Can we go upstairs?" she asked softly and looked around timidly.

"Are you doing this or not?" I scowled in frustration.

"I am."

"Then spread those legs and shut the fuck up." I grabbed her legs and pushed her to lie on the couch, while I pulled my trousers down and lay between her thighs.

"I'm sorry, sir," she apologized, her hitching breath hitting my face.

I couldn't tell what the fuck she was apologizing for.

Pushing out my cock, I spat on it, rubbed around the natural lubricant, and (with one unpredicted full thrust) grabbed her thighs, spreading them wider, while my hips slammed into her.

"Ah, fuck!" she screamed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

That was one good nut.

I smiled to myself as I walked to the bar. On the way, I ate two of the chocolate bars. It only served to increase my appetite for some more junk. I had to exercise my authority on Kenzo to stop him from following me. In his words, "The bar is always full of danger."

It sounded so funny.

I knew the meaning of danger... because I was dangerous. Hell, some people called me the devil.

A lot of sacrifices brought me to this level. Taking over a mafia empire wasn't easy, and bending their loyalty to me, the new boss, also wasn't easy.

Some died. Others were sent away.

It was a lot at that time, but in the end, I successfully took over and gained a lot of fear and respect (and even got a little fame in some parts of Madrid, especially around me).

I got to the club faster than usual because my thoughts were there to wander the earth.

The stars that decorated the sky were slowly turning in for the night.

"Good evening, sir," a bouncer at the door greeted, smiling and bowing slightly.

"Hey, Cole. How's the hustle?"

"Great!"

Without another word, I walked in. The blaring sound of music from sonic speakers washed around me as I stepped in. The lights were wild, moist and energetic just like the dancers on the floor.

At a dark corner of the club, a man stood plastered on the wall with his trousers and briefs around his thighs, while a mass of blonde hair was fixed to his crotch.

I exhaled and rolled my eyes while walking towards the bar.

Then... then my eyes landed on the bar... on her.