A hand that's just as cold as his voice covers my mouth.
"Don't bother screaming for help," the mobster says.
Impulsively, I bite his palm.
He asks, amused, "Was that intended to hurt me or arouse me?"
My blood turns icy with fear when he traces a pattern on my lips.
"Don't bite me again unless I tell you to," he says.
WORD COUNT: 8,500
A sexy short story about a young woman and a handsome mobster!
