Hot Flashes (Lesbian Mafia Romance) girlxintersex

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Clementine POV

I was always a naughty girl, drawn to males with tattoos or who resembled a mobster. As I stood here with a rifle aimed at least a few meters away, I remembered my first whimpy-looking lover, who had a freckled face and shiny red hair with a faint pattern of curls. We were juniors, and I solely liked him for his height. I remember we were heading to my house since he had the right manner and attitude to bring home to the parents. When Colt, a junior jock, stopped and picked on us, I was left weeping alone. Where was that whimpy boy when I needed him? He dashed home to his mother.

So a week later, I start fucking with the jocks, and I mean I go through them all. I told you. I was wild, in the Wild West. I've always wanted to be protected because I know I can't defend myself. I always prefer males with tattoos, a tough appearance, bikers, outlaws, red flags, black flags, muscles, and guns. Now I envision a woman with an entire town in the palm of her hand. I didn't actually desire her, but my pussy did.

"Doll, come sit next to me and tell me everything you did with my money."

I wasn't going to move until she took that gun from my horrified body.

Every hair molecule in my body was on standby, and my heart was everywhere in my body, unable to remain still as it sought sanctuary elsewhere from dread.

"I'm scared."

Nikolai Dark laughed, causing my spine bones to halt in my body. And without my spine, I am unable to walk. I may not be an expert in anatomy, but everyone understands that the spine helps you walk.

"Scared of what?"

My gaze shifted to the pistol, which was essentially waving at me.

"She? Don't mind her; she's only doing her job. She is such a good girl." Her next gloved hand reached out and patted the top of the metal.

I hope she would pat my pussy like that and tell me I was a nice girl. But my actions were not of a decent girl, were they? I had no idea why I was dismissing the assertions, even though they were obviously written all over me in big red markers.

"She has done her job 2002 times, and if everything goes as planned, she will not have to work 2003 times."

"She's a touch noisy and untidy on the job, but a lady of my profession doesn't mind." Her hand rested alongside her on the sofa, near the armrest. Her legs were so lengthy that they took up practically all of the space between the armrests.

"Just tell me what you did, and we'll figure it out."

"I didn't do anything."

Her hand stroked the region, as if she was getting it warm and comfortable before strangling my neck. When was the last time I read a Mafia book? Ah, yeah! Several years ago. According to what I've read, they were merciless creatures—humans. Hot—ruthless. Sexy—ruthless. Horrible—ruthless. Ruthless—ruthless. They were brutal, and I was such a fool. I could feel it again: my mother's scornful glare.

I sat uncomfortably on the sofa, trying not to let my knees contact hers and not to turn my face; having the gun hot on my skin was enough.

If I turned my face, my nose would most likely be stuck with the pistol.

When she placed the rifle and checkbook on the center table, I let out an unidentified breath. "I put her away so that we could converse properly." "Now, Princess, tell me what you done with this stuff here." Her lengthy fingers dug into the middle of the checkbook.

"I didn't-"

"Now, doll, we went over it. I understand what you did. I simply want you to tell me with your lips that you did it."