Deliverance (The Maverick Defense #1) by L.A. Cotton, Jenny Siegel Read Free Book Online Page B

swallowed the cry that tried to tear from my throat. He yanked me around until he was positioned behind me. “Look at yourself.” He forced me forward. The full-length mirror reflected the scene back at us.
    I stood unmoving in Donnie’s grip. He stared at me through the glass. “Look. At. Yourself. You see this?” His free hand roughly roved over my dress, up and over stomach and to my tits. This.” He squeezed hard, and I bit down on my lip to keep the tears at bay. “Is. Mine.”
    Donnie’s eyes were wild. His jaw ticked, the carotid artery pulsating in his neck. “Tell me, Joy. Say the words.”
    “I am yours.”
    Each word shattered another sliver of my soul. Soon, there wouldn’t be anything left to give.
    He relaxed his grip on me and his touch softened. Donnie smiled into the mirror. “I love you, baby. So fucking much.”
    The words were like bullets ripping through me. I’d heard them a million times, but it was always the same. What Donnie and I shared wasn’t love. It was lust for him. Survival for me.
    Desperation.
    Love made you feel warm and safe and comforted, didn’t it? Not scared and sad and tired. So tired. This couldn’t be love; it was ugly and wrong and devastating.
    It had ruined me.
    Needy lips connected with my neck, and I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to watch him lose himself in me. Donnie’s hands became frantic, clawing and pawing at my dress, my skin. His mouth moved up and down the column of my neck, licking and sucking. It was as if he was marking me. Claiming me. His actions were possessive, territorial, and it hit me. He’d seen Dawson.
    I didn’t have time to process the realization, as a loud knock sounded on the door. “Boss, you’re needed out front.”
    Donnie paused holding me close to him. I waited. No one demanded things of Donnie, not even his right-hand men. In the past, I’d watched him beat members of his own staff to a pulp because of a question they’d asked or the tone of their voice. He was unstable. Volatile.
    You never knew which side of Donnie would rear its ugly head.
    “I’m coming.”
    Relief washed over me. In a life with Donnie DeLuca, you had to steal these rare moments and bask in them because you never knew what was coming next. He pressed one more kiss to my neck and righted himself. “Come on, we have guests to attend to.”
    The two big loves in Donnie’s life were his business and me. At that moment, I’d never been more thankful for coming in second place.

    More bodies had arrived at Shakers. I recognized a few familiar faces as Donnie guided us to his reserved seating area off to the side of the bar. Outside on the streets of Chancing, life coasted along, but in here, everything was bigger, more lavish … just more. Even the dregs of the town who came to forget about their lives had to adhere to Donnie’s strict dress code. It was ironic really that anyone could come to watch girls strip for a few dollars and get high on their drug of choice for the evening as long as they were wearing dress shoes and a shirt. To fresh eyes, Shakers looked every bit the upmarket strip club and bar, but it was all smoke and mirrors.
    “Hey, everything good?” Sherri whispered as we joined her and a couple of Donnie’s inner circle in the reserved section.
    I gave her a curt nod before sitting down.
    “Joy.” Sal half-smiled before lighting up a cigar.
    The three men started talking business. Donnie’s hand massaged my knee, his grip firm as I listened to Sherri moan about some of the girls living at her place. I saw her lips moving but heard nothing. I was too lost in my own thoughts. Donnie had seen Dawson. They had been in the same room together.
    “Joy, earth to Joy?” Sherri’s eyes bunched together. “I asked if you wanted a drink?”
    “No, I’m good. Thank you.”
    Donnie barked out, “Three whiskey chasers.”
    My head whipped around in his direction. Donnie usually spent the week sober. He caught my reaction and said, “A