Wet Works was the umbrella company for her pornography and camgirl businesses, but it also provided the perfect lead-in for her more illegal ventures of prostitution and sex trafficking.
In less than a month working as her assistant, I’d seen nothing blatantly illegal take place, but I’d officially seen more cocks than I’d ever wanted to in the whole of my life.
“Oh, come on, Richard,” Irina spat, throwing her clipboard at the man on set, currently getting fellatio from two red heads. “Put your ass into it! No one wants to watch a lacklustre blow job.”
I grimaced as the man in question put his hands on his hips for better leverage and began to thrust wetly into the blonde’s mouth while the brunette tried to keep his now swinging balls in hers.
“Better,” Irina sneered, settling back in her white, leather director’s chair.
She flipped her long, lush mane of black hair over her shoulder and beamed at me like we were just two girls on the couch critiquing a rom-com.
“How you doing, chica?” she purred to me. “You like my big, strong men?”
“They’re beautiful,” I agreed, even though none of them did it for me. “I’m not surprised your site is so profitable.”
My boss smiled like the cat that ate the canary as she leaned over to trail her perfectly manicured nails down my floral inked arm. “Is not just the men who draw notice, mmm? A woman like you, so beautiful, would make a very nice profit.”
I struggled to contain the shiver that moved through me like a ghost and affixed a coy smile to my face. “I’m shy.”
Irina blinked innocently as she continued to stroke me. “Si? This is odd, because I have known you as the niña de las flores. In fact…” Her eyes narrowed and heavily made up as they were, slanted aggressively with black liner, she looked very much like a poisonous snake about to strike. “I have heard you very much like to lie naked for the man who puts these pretty flowers all over your pretty skin.”
This was exactly what Zeus had been worried about.
I had no official affiliation to the club, but I was a known affiliate of Nova Booth, a long-time member of The Fallen.
Fear swarmed my throat like a hundred angry bees, but I reminded myself she was just fishing.
Any internet search would show me linked to Street Ink Tattoo Parlour. Any investigator would discover I was fostered by the Booths and still lived in their backyard.
“I love ink, what can I say?” I shrugged nonchalantly, sensually touching the sleeve of tattoos on my arm in a way that drew Irina’s gaze. “How can I resist such art?”
“Indeed,” she agreed, licking her lips as she followed the path of my fingers up my shoulder and down between my breasts where the tips of the lotus blossom design could be seen. “And how can I resist using it?”
Carefully, I took a deep breath. “You hired me as your assistant.”
“And you will assist me in this way, si?” she asked sweetly.
My gaze went to the two women on their knees blowing a guy who’d definitely taken steroids as some point in his life and a Viagra before shooting.
Was I seriously willing to give a stranger head for my family?
Acid bubbled in my stomach, and I placed a hand there as if that would help.
When I looked back at Irina she was watching me carefully behind her placid expression. Not for the first time, I wondered how many times a man had underestimated Irina Ventura because she was stunning, and therefore, they forgot just how cunning she could be.
“You have more than enough women working for you,” I declared because if I’d learned anything in the last month, it was just how many people she’d roped into working for her.
So many young girls, some of them seriously suspect legally, who littered the Wet Works lot and warehouse like wraiths, zoned out, drugged up, or in tears.
They were not happy girls, for the most part.
And I couldn’t blame them.
Pornography was for the desperate, or in the rare case, the seriously sexually profound.
“Fresh blood is always best,” she countered, shifting in her seat so that she was fully facing me, and I could feel the full force of her energy funneled like sunlight through a magnifying glass, burning and inescapable. “You will do this for me.”
I studied her idly, as if my heart wasn’t in my throat beating out a staccato tune. “If I do, let’s not pretend it’s about money. This is about loyalty. You want me to have skin in the game so I’m less likely to betray you.”
It was a ballsy move, and I wasn’t sure how Irina would respond, only that she was a strong woman, and I figured she’d respect the power move.