“Good night, sir.”
The phone went silent in my ear, and I closed it with an only slightly trembling hand. I'd known Adriana from the first day she came to the Don's house, and she'd for years been that one woman who was always untouchable. Don Bertoli had no problems with my sleeping around, he felt that young men should be virile and if I was a one time only bedmate, that was my choice. He'd even gifted me with some of the girls who worked for him from time to time, including a semi-famous actress who'd done a few science fiction shows in Vancouver — the sort of stuff that had a decent dedicated following of geeks, but didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting any awards.
From the beginning, Adriana had been off limits. Not just to me, but to everyone in the Don's organization, and it was spelled out to us in very clear terms. Touch Adriana Bertoli, and die.
The problem was, she was my weakness. In my twenty-five years on this Earth, I'd trained myself to ignore pain, to ignore exhaustion, and to ignore every temptation. Money meant almost nothing to me — I had enough from what the Don gave me, and he'd taught me how to invest it well so that I would have more than enough when I wanted it. Physical possessions, the same. The only reason I drove a BMW was because as a member of the Bertoli family, it was expected that I drive a nicer class of car than the average jackass on the road. Stylish, understated, and with a sense of power. That’s what a Bertoli man drove, and that’s what I drove.
But sex was both one of my most potent tools and also one of my biggest weaknesses. Oh, the average slut that I went to Pound Town with, I didn't even give a second thought to. I'd never felt guilty fucking just about any woman that caught my attention, and with my cock, who could blame me — it’s not like they’d turn me down. It's not everyday that a woman gets to feel a legitimate nine inches of thick man meat inside them. I can’t help I was blessed with size and endurance — give me five or ten, and I’ll saddle up for round two and round three. Turning your regular Girl Next Door into a cock slut just so happen to be a hobby of mine.
Adriana though, she was different. Sexy, intelligent, and self-assured in a way that no other woman I'd met was, she’d been the subject of some of my earliest masturbation fantasies back when I was in high school and needed to rub one out at least once a day. Where other women would melt at a look from my eyes and a smirk, she always returned my taunts with verve and spice, usually with something along the lines of that once I had her, I'd be the one addicted to her and not the other way around. Not that I would’ve ever touched her if she acted like other women. I am rather fond of my balls, after all, and would prefer to keep them attached.
I started up my Beamer and turned on the lights, taking a deep breath as I put the stick shift into first and pulled out of the strip club's parking lot, and I couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. Adriana was the ultimate forbidden fruit, and I had to admit that my greatest goal in life was to have just one night with her.
“Just do your fucking duty,” I reminded myself, hanging a right and driving uptown toward my apartment. It was going on ten thirty, and if I wanted to be fresh-faced and ready to guard Adriana, I had to get back to my apartment quickly and try and get some sleep.