by Jamie Knight
Suddenly, I remembered this was just supposed to be a fling. Nothing serious nothing romantics and the kiss was defiantly romantic. The butterflies in my tummy fluttered their tiny wings in agreement.
I broke away and headed for the passenger door with great purpose.
"Ready," I said, doing everything I could to keep my voice steady.
I wanted to laugh. And to cry. I couldn't decided in which order and there was the risk of both coming at once.
"Okay," he said, pushing off from the front of the car and heading around to the driver's side, cool as you please.
I tried to figure out if he just didn't care or thought that I didn't and was trying to go along with me. I had the gut feeling it was the second one. Something that made me love him more than I was already trying not to. Just a fling, I repeated to myself like a mantra. Nothing serious. Just some fun, nothing else. Move along folks, nothing to see here. My pussy joined the tummy butterflies in the rebellion and my heart was beginning to be swayed.
We didn't talk much on the drive from my house into Brooklyn. I watched Reece as he drove. His face dead serious, his eyes ever watchful for hidden dangers. There was a subtle growth of stubble on his face. It looked like he had been busy and not had time to shave. I looked surprisingly good on him and I wondered ideally whet he would look like with a beard. I wasn't sure what it was but I felt really safe with him. It wasn't just that he had taken all the virginity I'd had with hardly any pain involved, which certainly merited some trust. There was something else. Not quite a gentleness so much as a drive to do the right thing that came off him. Like how I knew if I lost my virginity to him it would be consensual. He really didn't seem the type to hurt anyone. At least not on purpose. I wanted so much to be able to trust him.
Papa Gino's was a small family-owned place. I could smell the oregano as soon as we walk through the door, the electric chime having been set to Verdi.
"Reece!" The host exclaimed like they were old friends.
"What's up Lorenzo?"
"Our spirits now that you're here, my friend."
"Oh, stop it," Reece said with what looked like genuine humbleness.
I felt a pang. Somewhere deep in my chest. Like the first small cracks of my heart possibly opening.
"We have your favourite table," Lorenzo said, taking out two menus out from behind the podium at the front, "this way."
Reece gently took my hand and we walked together in the direction Lorenzo had gone at good clip. It wasn't commanding or like he was trying to claim me or own me or anything like that. It felt real and natural. I won't lie, I liked it.
Lorenzo pulled out the chairs for us as we sat down, pushing them back in after we were properly positioned. We read our menus with careful attention as though to look at each other might spoil the moment or turn one or the other of us to stone. Reece decided quickly, putting his menus neatly aside. I wondered how he was at folding maps. I knew for a fact he was very good with his hands.
"Are we decided?" Lorenzo asked, appearing as soon as my menu touched table.
"I would like the small vegetarian," Reece said.
"Very good," Lorenzo said, jotting it down.
"I'll have the vegan margarita," I said.
"Excellent choice," Lorenzo said, his pen flying across his new, yellow notepad.
With a quick bow, Lorenzo turned on heel and marched off back towards the kitchen to deliver our ordered.
"How long have you been coming here?" I asked.
"Since I was a kid, back when Gino still ran it. He retired a few years ago and Lorenzo took over."
"Lorenzo's his son?"
"Nephew. Papa Gino never married if you can believe it. He was so much like a dad to the kids of his neighbourhood in Genoa that hey just started calling him that and it stuck."
"Why did he move to New York?" I asked.
"Something to do with the Cammora," Reece said evasively, "he didn't like to talk about it."
He reached out and took me by the hand. The spark was instant and undeniable. I looked into his eyes and honestly could have melted. I could almost hear the chains around my heart begin to break as I realized I just might love him too.
"Do you like my choice?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, meaning it down to my soul.
Chapter Fourteen
Reece
I had heard people talk about the 'warm and fuzzies' but had never really know what they meant. That's what I felt when I was with Gia. That's feeling I'd never felt before and couldn't quite identify.
I could feel something for her too. Like she wanted to feel the same way but couldn't quite. Like there was something getting in the way.
"I hear that they're reviving Les Miz on Broadway?" she asked.
"No, must have passed me by," I said, "I don't really move in those circles. At lest not anymore. I drew the line at Spider-Man:The Musical. I still like plays in general though."
"What was the last play you saw?"
"Rosencrantz and Guilenstern Are Dead," I admitted.
"Hey?"
"An absurdist comedy in which two minor characters from Hamlet are the focus. It is basically the story of Hamlet but from there perspective, showing what they do, as characters rather than actors, while waiting for their cue as it were," I explained.
"Wow," she said.
"It was written by a Brit back in the sixties."
"Would have to be wouldn't it?" she asked.
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Do you ever watch TV?"
"No, but it isn't a moral stance. I just have enough time to do that and do all the reading I want to do. My own fault for having a library though."
"You have a -"
"That's two questions about me that I've answered now," I said, rally not wanting to go into the specifics.
"Quid pro quo is it?" she asked.
"I thought that move would be before your time," I said.
"Isn't it a bit before yours too?"
"Well, yeah, I was about four at the time. Like the kids now with mohawks whose parents were barely around when punk as invented. It wasn't an easy thing either. The way I understand it, back in the day kids got the shit kicked out of them on a regular basis."
"By who?" Gia asked.
"By everyone who wasn't a punk apparently," I said, not having been there at the time.
"That's awful!"
"I know. I thing to how punk thing started at least partly as a haven for social misfits, so they had somewhere to go. No one else would accept them so they banded together. Metal used to be the same way. Punk had the accusations of being a gang thing and metal and conservative assholes saying that it caused kids to kill themselves or each other."
"People tend to fear what they don't understand," Gia said, sounding wise beyond her years.
"Don't I know it," I muttered.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, apparently sensing my distress.
"No, I'd rather talk about you," I said, taking her hand.
"O-okay, what do you want to know?"
"Everything, what makes you tick?"
"Oh, just that?" she asked, with what I recognized as nervous laughter.
"Yeah," I said meaning it.
"I really -"
I realized I had pushed her too far. She was getting uncomfortable which was the last thing I wanted. I wanted her to have fun and be as happy as it was possible for a human to be while living in our sad world. I wanted to give her every thing she needed or wanted. I lover her so much.
We were both saved from embarrassment when Lorenzo came back with a little basket of garlic bread and a shaker of cloves for our pizzas.
"They'll be out in a few minutes," he said brightly.
"Great," I said to his back as he hurried off back to his post.
"I'll bet they are," Gia said, "the pizza's I mean. I can smell them already."
"Yeah, they make a good pie," I said.
"It's getting hot," Gia said, taking off
her coat.
It was then that a noticed her shirt and. The part in the front caused by her tits. I could clearly see the skin trough it and it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. A daring but understandable move. It must have been as hard for her to find properly fitting bras as shirts. Like some of the really tall women I had know know showed a lot of leg if they wanted to wear skirts or dresses at all. Standard hems always seeming to end around their mid thigh. One girl I knew in college could really only wear jeans, even shorts making her long perfect legs too enticing. She still got lots of attention being a fucking goddess and all but didn't want to attract it.
"Sorry," I said, realizing I was staring.
"No, it's okay," she said softly.
Looking to make sure there wasn't anyone else to see, Gia unbuttoned the two buttons above the break, wearing the top button already open as was the fashion. There was then a v of luscious young flesh extending from her neck down to the fourth button on her shirt. It didn't show that much really, I had seen girls wearing a lot less down a the club and even on the street, especially in the summer. I could tell it was a big deal for her. The sexiest thing I had ever seen her wear was the witch costume and that had been the point of it. Even then she hadn't shown much skin, also wearing tights. Not that I minded, it was her body and her choice how much of it she showed or not. Though I was more than happy to see anything she wanted to show me. She had a beautiful body and felt honored she had chosen to share it with me. It was not something I took for granted.
"You like?" she asked.
What a question. Truth be told, under almost any other circumstances I would have reached out and given both of her big beautiful tits a loving squeeze. The food came saving us both from a potentially awkward situation. Every inch the professional, Lorenzo set down the stands holing the pizza pans and left again without even a glance at Gia's big, beautiful bosoms.
"I like very much," I whispered, leaning in conspiratorially.
The blush ran clear down from her cheeks to her chest as she smiled modestly unable to meet my eyes.
"Look at me," I said, taking her hand.
She looked at me, the discomfort returning to her face.
"I-"
"You are beautiful," I said, "and don't you forget it.
She blushed even brighter. I could tell I had gone too fare and she was going into some kind of defence mode. I backed off both physically and metaphically and left Gia to enjoy her pizza. I certainly enjoyed mine. I also noticed that she never actually buttoned up her shirt. I guessed that there was some part of her that didn't mind me looking. Liked it even.
I felt bad about how the turn the date had taken, I had pushed to hard trying to make fly feelings know and didn't know if Gia would ever want to get close to me again.
"Well, thanks a lot," she said putting her coat back on."
I really didn't want things to end there and had to think fast to try and salvage any affection Gia might still have for me. Leave things on a high note as they say.
"Hey, would you like to go for a walk on the promenade?" I asked, trying to sound as casual as I could.
"The Brooklyn promenade?"
"That's the one, It's not far from here," I said.
"Really?"
"Not by car," I added.
"Cool, let's go," she said, seeming to relax again.
We were on our way out when a very nicely tailored man with a very bad attitude came storming in, nearly knocking Gia over. If I hadn't been there to catch her there was a good chance she would have ended up out on the floor.
"Out of my way, bitch!" he barked on his way by.
"Good afternoon sir -" Lorenzo said.
"I need my pizza now!" the guy shouted.
"Okay, what's your name?"
"Seriously?"
"Yes," Lorenzo said.
"My name is John fucking Handler."
"Ah," Lorenzo said, looking up the order, "looks like you just ordered online, you need to wait for the pizza to actually be baked," Lorenzo said.
"Listen you greasy little wop, do you have any fucking idea who -"
The rest of the sentence was cut off, his windpipe suddenly being squeezed snugly in the crook of my right elbow. He tried to struggle but resistance was futile.
"Hi," I said, pleasant as can be, "my name is Reece Scott. I strongly suggest that you adjust your attitude, because if I ever hear you call my girl over there or my friend here either of those words again I will permanently cripple you, and no, I don't give a fuck who you are. Have a nice night."
John Hanlder crumpled to the floor and was still there when I escorted Gia out the door. Just then a cook came out with a large pizza in a box.
"Looks like your order is ready," Lorenzo said cheerily.
Gia didn't say anything for a long time after leaving the restaurant. The drive to the promenade was pretty much is silence expect for the radio. This wasn't immediately a red flag having become something of a custom. I did feel kind of badass after the restaurant incident. I wasn't usually violent at all but that guy had just pushed me too far.
We started along the promenade, Gia maintaining her vow of silence. I was really scared I might have blown it.
"He called me a bitch," she said, meaning more as a question.
"Yep."
"And sweet Lorenzo a greasy little wop."
"Indeed," I concurred.
"And then you -"
"Yeah, I did."
"That was amazing!" she enthused, hugging me tight.
"Thanks," I said, not sure what else to say.
"I hate that guy!" she said, as we continued on our walk.
"I can't say that I'm a fan either," I said.
"No not just that guy," she said.
"No?"
"No, that guy and everyone like him!" Gia ranted, she was very cute when she was angry.
"Oh?" I asked, not wanting to get in the way of her freight train of thought.
"Yeah! Rich assholes who think they own the fucking world! They are what is wrong with society. Get rid of them all and everything would be so much better!"
I could sense a deep-seated class resentment. So much so I decided not to call her on the tacit endorsement of genocide of the upper-classes. She was clearly very upset and understandably so. I had planned on tell her the truth as we strolled the promenade. That I was actually a billionaire and lay it all out. I had the scene playing in my head through most of the pizza meal. Suddenly it did seem like such a good idea. We were just getting things back on track and I was pretty sure that if she knew exactly how much money I really had she probably wouldn't want to see me again. Despite the fact that I actually worked for a living hand had earned very cent I had. I earned it as a property developer, it was true, but I always did my best to be on the level. Besides which, I actually agreed with her. There was no reason for the wealthy to be assholes about it. I had a lot of experience with that myself, not least from my dad.
"I couldn't agree more," I said, "I heard about this one guy who disowned his own son, cut him right out of his life, no inheritance, no contact no nothing because son in question had some reservations about how dear old dad was running a business. Especially when he, the dad that is, bought up an orphanage so he could demolish it and put up a high rise."
"Exactly! That's exactly what I'm talking about! What a monster!"
"Agreed," I said, meaning every syllable.
Gia stopped and looked at me, as though seeming me in a new way.
"Really?"
"Of course, that's why I did what I did to the jerk at Papa Gino's. I meant every word of that too," I said.
Gia grabbed me and kissed me, not being at all shy about using her tongue, despite us being in public. She had improved greatly since the first time. Opening her coat, she took my hand and put it inside, laying it gently on her left tit. I squeezed it tenderly. She closed her eyes and hummed contentedly.
"I think it's time I took you home and had my way with you," I said.
"Good call."
Chapter Fifteen
Gia
I nearly squirmed in the seat. I was so horny I could barely stand it. Reece's house was stupid big. It reminded me of the house that my grandpa had lived in and no one knew about. It was where the funeral was held. He had been the one to get me the rent-controlled apartment. He had called in a favour from the manager and insisted on paying the rent for me. I offered to pay it back but he refused. I thought he had just been doing me a solid but when he died, it was without a will, he hand only been 63 at the time and apparently healthy as a horse. He had died of an overdose of an illegal substance no one, including his personal doctor had known he was addicted to. So I had to buy both food and rent with the money I could make with my fledgling party planning business, which is how I got reduced to living with my parents in the first place. Though that wasn't the worst of it. In addition to being a junkie and leaving me, temporarily homeless after what seem like a kind gesture, dear old granddad was a rich ass corporate raider of dubious reputation who owned the entire fucking building my apartment had been in. He had dynamited a Jewish community center to make the space. Legend had it he had pushed down the plunger in the detonator himself, laughing while he did it.
"Nice place," I said, as he steered the car to the bottom of the marble steps.
"Thanks, family tradition," he said.
"Oh, I know what's that's like," I said, nodding knowingly.
No sooner had I gotten out of the car than Reece swooped me up into his powerful arms, closing the door with his foot, and ran up the front stairs, taking them two by two.
"Which room?" he asked, after kicking the front door open.
"All of them," I said.
"All of them?" he asked, sounding slightly daunted.
"Yes?"
"There are forty-five of them," he said.
"Oh, all the ones on the ground floor then," I said.
"Right," he said, lowering me gently to the ground.
I went for the sitting room, whipping off my coat as I went. I was topless by the time I got there, flicking on the light as I rushed in, Reece in hot pursuit. Dropping my pants and panties I bent over the arm of a nearby couch, my pussy and ass open to him and anything he wanted to do to me.
