Rescue the Barista

I said, ‘how about I take a little more,’ for a moment there, I think he was thinking about the double meaning. Yeah, and maybe I was, too. But as soon as I said it, his eyes flicked around the coffee shop. He looked at the espresso machine. The chiller cabinets. He was thinking about how I was going to handle the debt.
And I’m thinking about that too. My idea, it only just occurred to me. Borrow more, but use it as a cushion. Hold it to lighten the load of the repayments. Of course, it would be tempting to just run out and blow it. Being in a financial corner, makes you want to blow off steam. that’s how pressure is.
But I’m just thinking down the line. And I’m very carefully not thinking about the burden that he could be, if he were lying on top of me. With his load, pressured up, ready for delivery.
It’s hard to spend a moment with him without thinking about it. And I shouldn’t be. Not only because he’s too old, but also because I’m getting into business with a mobster.
I’m opening myself up to the boss of one of the most notorious crime families in this city. And while I should be thinking about the finance, about spreading the load, all I can think about is spreading under him.
How can it be? I never have more than the lightest flicker of attraction for a man. The guys that come into the coffee shop, lots of them are great guys. Some of them are even great guys who are hot and great-looking. But I never think for more than a moment about anything more. Okay, don’t get me wrong. I do think about it. For a moment. But really, that’s all.
Being within a few feet of Angelo, it’s like I’ve gone through the looking glass. It’s full reverse. It’s almost impossible to think about anything except how it could feel to grip his bones hard in my thighs. To plunge my fingers down the front of his pants. To have him haul out his cock and shove it in my mouth. Between my tits. Into my aching, wet pussy.
Thinking about it is making me squirm.
His eyes hold onto mine, and bright, hot cascades of tingle spread down the insides of my thighs. My knees feel like they’re about to give out.
The worst of it is, I know I need to keep a straight business head on. But I also know, given half the chance, I would jump and climb his bones in a heartbeat. I would knock him to the ground right now. Rip the buttons off his beautiful shirt and sink my teeth into the hard ripples of his abs. Sit on him, pin him down while I bounce on him, hard. Until he pins me and nails me.
Must. Not. Fuck. The. Mobster.
I should write it on a card to remind myself.

Chapter 10 Angelo
The little coffee shop has obviously been busy. She’s got her two helpers there. They’re busy clearing up, bussing trays into the kitchen out back. It’s a good sign. Jamie’s got the beginnings of a good little business here. She takes me to a table in the corner, farthest from the window. We sit in old, stuffed armchairs.
“Don’t want to be seen having coffee with the mobster?” I’m jerking her chain.
She says, “Mobsters don’t like to sit near windows though, right? In case a crew comes by to machine gun them?” Her face is deadpan. “ “The windows were expensive. I can’t afford to have them shot up.”
I pass her an envelope with the money in. As she takes it, she says, “I’ve been thinking about this. Can you make the loan fifty percent more?”
“I can. Of course I can, Jamie.”
“With the same terms?”
“Yes. But you’ve got to understand–”
“I understand. What I intend to do is to keep most of the extra part back. Use it to help cushion me for the repayments. Hold it for as long as I can, only use it when I have a bad week or an unexpected bill.”
“Seems smart,” I tell her. “I’ve known people do that and make it work. Most of them are mob guys, though.”
“Because an awful lot of the people who take your loans do it because they’re desperate, and they don’t think it through.”
“That’s right. So you said ‘most.’ What do you plan to do with the rest?”
“Marketing. Spread the word. Raise the takings. I’ve got competition coming. I need to be ready.”
“You’re really something.” I stretch a hand across the table. She pulls back. Sits up in her chair.
“I need to be clear about something, Angelo.” She looks me straight in the eye and I have such a boner I expect to hear it knock on the underside of the table. She tells me, “This is business. I think we both stirred up some feelings.” A tiny crack comes in her voice, “I’ve worked hard for this, Angelo, and I’ll need to work hard some more. I can’t have anything getting in the way.”
My hand is still out on the table, “I like that, Jamie. I admire your grit. I think you’re the woman for me. You won’t have to worry about your business. I’ll take care of you.”
“Then I’d be the mobster’s girl. A moll, do you still call them that?” Before I can answer she says, “Look, don’t think that isn’t exciting. I even love the sound of it. Just saying that. It’s a thrill. But it’s not for me. The idea of a man who’ll walk through a hail of bullets for me, yeah. I like that. But the reality? I’m not taking those risks, Angelo.”
Every word she says makes me want her more Makes me know that I need her. I have to have her. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I have to make her