Free STRONGER by Lexie Ray

down and open my legs?” I asked.
    Cocoa nodded. “Simply put, that’s about all you do,” she agreed. “If it hurts, think happy thoughts, like what you’re going to spend all that money on. Mama takes a cut, but it’s all yours.”
    “Ice cream,” I said, “then pizza.”
    “Delicious,” Cocoa said, smiling.
    She opened the door and led me out of the bathroom. “Look who’s all ready for you, darling,” my roommate called.
    I stepped out from behind her and stared. The Don was sprawled out across the bed, completely nude. His erection stood out angrily away from his body. For a man in his forties, he was remarkably well preserved, I observed. His limbs and trunk were hairy but fit, the foreshadowing of a belly earned by excess his only flaw.
    He grinned and put his hands behind his head. “Looks like I made a good investment in Miss Jazz, didn’t I, Cocoa?” he crowed.
    “You sure did, Don Costa,” my roommate said, taking my hand and twirling me around. “Look at this pretty thing, already wet for you. Enjoy yourself, darling.”
    Cocoa took her leave and I was alone with the Don. He beckoned me to approach the bed.
    “Do—do you want me to get a condom?” I asked. “There are lots in the bathroom.”
    “I don’t think we want one of those, do you?” Don Costa said, running his hand up and down my flat stomach. “This is your first time. I want you to feel everything.”
    The Don always got what he wanted, I thought. I had to make it happen.
    He lunged forward suddenly, scaring me, and pulled me onto the bed. His kiss was rough, demanding, and tasted like vermouth. I tried not to gag, tried to reciprocate, tried to think happy thoughts. I was doing this for Mama. I was doing this for the nightclub, so the girls could keep working. I was doing this for me, to earn money so that I could survive on my own.
    I slipped my tongue into his mouth, almost afraid I’d get drunk just from the way it tasted. I thought about the boy I’d kissed on the bus that day, the way he had gingerly hefted my breasts in the palms of his hands. What was he doing now, I wondered. I bet he wouldn’t guess what I was doing now.
    I moaned politely as the Don grabbed a handful of my ass, squeezing it like he was judging its ripeness. He fumbled with the clasp of my bra and I pulled away.
    “I want to keep my bra on,” I said softly, thinking about all the scars that it hid.
    “Why?” Don Costa groaned. He pressed his erection almost painfully into my thigh.
    “Because it’s new,” I said. “Because it’s pretty.”
    “Simple girl,” the Don said. “I’ll buy you a hundred bras.”
    He managed to unfasten the clasp and I reluctantly let the bra fall away from my body. Don Costa thumbed my brown nipples and I gasped at the unexpected pleasure. He paused when he noticed the burn marks. I bore them all over, but the majority of them dotted my breasts.
    “Who did this to you?” he demanded quietly. “I’ll kill them.”
    It was the first time tonight that I liked the Don.
    “He’s already dead,” I said, making myself smile. It was true. Jack was dead to me. Mama had said that part of my life was over.
    Don Costa continued his exploration of my body a little more gently. I flushed as I realized that he must think I was fragile, damaged. In a sudden rush, I realized that it was probably to my advantage.
    He reached my thong and slipped his finger in, caressing my slippery lips. His touch made me arch pleasurably, banishing the fears that he’d try to purposefully hurt me. The Don may have been a powerful man, but he wasn’t another Jack. Only I could make him another Jack, and I refused to. Jack had injured me down there once, but my pussy didn’t seem to remember. It responded in the only way it could to his insistent, knowledgeable touches.
    “Cocoa was right,” Don Costa said thickly. “You are already wet.”
    “You make me wet,” I said, blushing furiously and feeling ashamed of myself. If my