Heart and the City

by Cecilia Fyre

  But Ricco shook his head. “No, I deserved that.”

  Lea didn’t think so, not anymore. He had messed up, sure. He had been a jerk, but was that a reason for her to play the poor little victim? She was better than that.

  “I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but those stories in the gossip magazines were just publicity stunts for our movie.”

  She believed him. It sounded too ridiculous to be made up. She motioned at the sofa. “Come here.”

  Ricco sat as far away from her as possible. He seemed to have more to say, so Lea kept quiet.

  "I'm no good at this," he began, choosing each word with difficulty. "I have no game. You probably think I'm full of shit, but it's true. I mess up, all the time. Shit gets confusing and I just lose track. And then I hurt people because I can't get it together."

  Lea uncrossed her arms and legs, not caring about the message she was sending. Ricco still wasn’t done talking. It was painfully obvious that he was psyching himself up to get the next bit out right. “And you’re so damn confusing.”

  Lea burst out laughing. “Confusing, me? How’s that?”

  “I can’t figure out what you want from me,” he said, bewildered. “No fancy outings, no pap photos of us together. It’s like you don’t care that I’m famous.”

  It was an odd statement that could have easily sounded dickish but didn’t. Ricco merely seemed bemused, like he had never come across someone who just wanted him for himself.

  Lea struggled to think of a suitable reply. “But why would I want any of that?” she asked at last. “The notoriety, being talked about?” The crazy fans that cut you until you bleed.

  “I don’t know, but girls usually do—”

  “Well, firstly, I’m not a girl.”

  “No,” he agreed, sounding surprised with himself. “You’re not.”

  “And that pap photo thing.” Lea hesitated for a moment, the memory she was about to voice still humiliating. “There was a picture of me, outside the gallery. I hated that.”

  He nodded miserably. “I saw that one. Was gonna tell them to take it down—”

  “No!” Lea shouted, and Ricco looked up, startled. She explained, “That’s exactly the sort of thing I don’t want. If you get involved, they’ll know I was there with you. That we are—” She blushed. They weren’t anything.

  “Anyway, it’s not true.” He fidgeted as if nervous. “You’re not fat.”

  Thinking of the ice cream tub at the bottom of her kitchen bin Lea was sure he was only saying that to make her feel better, but it was sweet nevertheless. “I am, though, compared to, you know…the others.”

  He made an impatient sound. “You’re amazing in so many ways, do you really think I care you’re no stick insect? Those model types are the only ones that dare talk to me these days. I didn’t make that a rule, y’know.”

  Lea smiled, a warm flutter in her belly. “You want to know what I really want?”

  The hope on Ricco’s face was almost painful to witness. “Course I wanna know!”

  “I want to spend time with you,” Lea said, emphasizing every word. “I know we’re both crazy busy, but that must be possible somehow, right?”

  He nodded, expectant. “And…?” he prompted.

  “There is no and,” she said, confused. “I just want us to get to know each other, that’s it.”

  Ricco’s gaze was indescribable, and all the butterflies were back at full force in her stomach. He closed the gap between them. He found her hands, hidden in the quilt. He took both of them in his and held on, stroking her wrist.

  “We can do that,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I want that too.”

  Then he looked up, his eyes different, huge, and full of warmth. "And there's one more thing I want." He leaned in and kissed her.

  Lea had seen many romantic fan fantasies in her online searches, all speculating on what kind of lover Ricco would be. She had also seen videos of him with male co-stars, fooling around and telling lewd jokes. Now Lea got to experience that neither the overly sweet perfect boyfriend fantasies nor the playboy-like, flirty persona Ricco sometimes adopted in public came close to the truth.

  They stayed on the sofa for a long time. Ricco’s hands started on her back, stroking her shoulders, wandering up to her neck, her face. His fingers, short and broad and strong, were so gentle on her skin they felt like feathers. But Lea could feel the energy in them, and wondering what he could and would do to her with those hands made her shudder in anticipation.

  When they finally broke apart Ricco took hold of her hands again, a question in his eyes. “D’you want this?” His voice was as soft as his fingertips.

  She nodded. “Do you?”

  “Yes. I just don’t want it to be weird.”

  “Because you think I’ll want more than just this night?”

  He shook his head. “No, because I think I might want more.”

  Lea placed a finger against his lips. “Let’s just think about this night. We can worry about the rest later.”

  He nodded, silent now. Getting to his feet he pulled her up with him and led her toward the bedroom.

  Lea had a hunch that what was to follow would be nothing like what she expected, but that she would never regret her decision to spend this night with him, whatever might happen later.

  9

  She lay on her back, goosebumps covering her from head to toe, an indescribable sensation. He was somewhere at the foot of the bed, undressing. She studied the ceiling. It was the same ceiling she’d seen a thousand times, but now every crack, every dirt mark seemed unfamiliar.

  Crossing her arms over her chest she realized how cold her fingers were. She shivered.

  And then his hands were on her. Gentle, tentative, starting to stroke her in an upward motion all the way from her knees. His broad fingertips with the slight calluses teased, exquisite, and as they brushed the side of her thighs her body trembled. She’d never be able to stop.

  He didn’t touch her most intimate place – not yet, patience, patience - but instead moved on to her stomach, stroking her sides, her ribs. Briefly, that sense of shame; her body was so far from perfect. Not slim and taut and beautiful, like what he knew, what he’d expect. She closed her eyes, steeling herself for his look of disappointment. He’d try to hide it, but it would be there and she’d know.

  When she opened her eyes, his gaze was on her. He’d been watching her, and there was a gentle smile on his face. No sign of repulsion or disgust. Her heart soared.

  He let his hands glide down her sides again and kneeled on the bed by her side. He put one hand on her stomach, the bit about herself she hated the most. He didn’t seem to notice her breath hitching. “I want you so much.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. Her arms glided off her chest. She took his hand, placing their palms together, stroking his wrist, his arm, down his chest, brushing the soft whorls of hair. They were both trembling now.

  He lay down next to her then, on his side, and she turned over. So far she'd not dared look down to where her eyes want to go so badly, but now she couldn't wait any longer. Together with her hand, her gaze wandered from his face, over his chest and the impossibly broad, muscular shoulders, down to his belly and the trail of fine hair.

  Her hand lingered, she let her fingers travel up and down a few times. He exhaled with a slow sigh. She looked up and his eyes were closed. He rested his head on his arm, looking utterly relaxed. She smiled to herself, happy simply to be able to make him feel good with a gentle touch.

  Then, eyes still closed, he took her hand and pulled it down, and she felt him hard and soft as silk against her fingertips. She wanted to look but had to wait another moment. When she did, he was already hard, his cock dark and thick in her hand. Her fingers tightened, starting slow strokes, varying the pressure and speed until he shivered. Maybe she could do this only, until he came. The thought of his seed spilling over her hand gave her a warm heaviness deep inside. Her breath picked up.

&nbs
p; But he had other ideas. “Lie back.”

  She obliged, let go of him, and he moved in close, his erection pressing into her hip. And then his fingers were on her, inside of her, and she forgot everything. How could a man, a virtual stranger, be so good at this, know exactly, precisely what to do to make her feel this way? She was more aroused, more ready for this, for him, than she’d ever been in her life. Her hips bucked up, into his hand, eager, desperate for more, and his strong, skilled fingers caused her to moan uncontrollably.

  Close, sososo close.

  She hardly noticed him pulling away, preparing himself. And then he was on top, lifting her legs, and she bore down as he entered her. She was so slick, so ready, it hardly registered as uncomfortable.

  His rhythm was perfect, he paid close attention to her breath hitching, picking up. But that wasn’t all. His fingers were back on her, he found her clitoris and the perfect pressure; within seconds the gentle rubbing sensation brought her close to the tipping point.

  She arched her head back with a groan, and his mouth was on her collarbone, her shoulder, her ear. “Don’t hold back. Come for me.”

  And he thrust, with a moan, his fingers on her clit giving one last push. She put her hand on his and held him still, right there. And they were coming, together, and even then, in her blissed-out state, she marveled that they managed this on the first try.

  They rode it out together, until they were both spent. Then he slid off her and snuggled close, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling her head with a sigh.

  She lay still as she savored the sensations, endorphins coursing through her. His heart slowed down, his breathing calmed, and she relaxed into his arms.

  This was perfect, there was no better place to be than in this bed, with this man, right here and now.

  10

  Lea paced the length of her living room, biting down on her nail. She clamped the phone between shoulder and ear, checking under the sofa for her second shoe. “But what if someone sees us?”

  “So what?” Ricco said patiently, not for the first time.

  “There’ll be pictures, and people will talk.”

  “Let them.” Ricco sounded unconcerned. “I don’t care. Do you?”

  “I don’t know…” Lea sighed. “You’re used to all that gossip. I don’t know if I can stand it.”

  “Then don’t look on the internet. Nobody will do it to your face.” His tone was patient. “It’s been so long since I’ve been out with my girl. Will you come?”

  My girl…

  She stretched to retrieve the shoe that was hiding in the furthest possible corner. “Of course I will, Ricco. I’m just nervous.”

  “We won’t do anything news-worthy, I promise.” He chuckled.

  “All right.” She flopped onto the sofa clutching the elusive footwear.

  “Great!” He sounded truly enthusiastic. “Meet you at the corner of 50th and 8th Avenue?”

  “Okay, see you in an hour.”

  Lea flicked through her wardrobe. Jeans and T-shirt he’d said, and been adamant. She hadn’t minded, but now that she was dressed in denim and a new blue T-shirt she felt even more frumpy than she had in the black dress. She wasn’t really a make-up person, so she applied only the tiniest bit of mascara and lipstick. Ricco had told her he didn’t like girls to wear a lot of make-up. Or had she read that in one of his interviews? She couldn’t remember.

  The main reason for her nervousness was all the preparation that had gone into this outing. A few nights ago at her apartment, Ricco had given her a run-through of what he called the 'low profile rules'. "No touching while we're on the street, okay?"

  “Okay.”

  “You don’t want any more pap photos of you popping up, right?”

  “Too true. No touching, got it.” Lea was fine with that. She was still unsure what the two of them were, where they were headed, or how far she wanted things to go, so keeping a bit of distance when they were around other people seemed only sensible. Photos of Ricco’s new girlfriend would be bad enough, but if they were followed by break-up news within days, things would be much worse.

  “There’ll be a few of my friends with us,” he’d continued. “So if anyone starts snapping pictures it’s just a group of friends out for some jazz.”

  “Your entourage.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.

  He sighed. “I hate that it has to be like this. Sure, we could go on our own, but that would be splashed on every front page and gossip blog, I can promise you that.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean it. I’m glad we’re going with your friends.”

  He rubbed his face. “Shit, I hate this.”

  “Ricco, it’s okay, seriously.” The last thing she wanted was for him to get upset and call off the outing and their budding bond.

  "All right. Yes, it's fine." He took a deep breath. "There shouldn't be any fans or paparazzi. The people we're going with are mostly not famous. But if anyone does approach me for a selfie just hang back. I'll deal with it."

  “Okay. Don’t be nervous, honey. I won’t mess up.” She’d patted his knee. Mostly not famous…

  “I know you won’t.” He grimaced. “But it still sucks. I wish I could spare you this shit.”

  Replaying that conversation in her head, Lea checked her bag once more. It was time to leave. With a sigh, she squared her shoulders and left the apartment.

  Whatever else tonight would turn out to be, it would certainly be an experience.

  The group they were going with turned out to be nice. There were two couples, two single women around Lea's age and one unaccompanied man. Lea wasn't good at remembering names, and outside work, she didn't have access to her usual crutch of patient notes. The two women took charge of her at once. They were called Lisa and Susan, that much Lea retained after the introductions.

  It didn’t alarm her when Ricco, after a quick peck on her cheek and a surreptitious squeeze of her hand, led the way down to the subway platform with the single man. The two couples followed, and Lea, Lisa and Susan brought up the rear.

  On the train Lea sat between the two women who chatted animatedly, doing their best to include her in the conversation. Lea avoided looking at Ricco who sat opposite them. He wore dark glasses and sat in such a way that hid his face from the rest of the carriage.

  Lea tried to keep up with Susan's and Lisa's conversation. They both seemed to work with famous people, in what capacity Lea couldn't quite tell. They pretended to be interested when Lea told them about herself but soon steered the conversation to other things. Lea didn't mind. It was nice enough to listen to the chatter, but she didn't feel the need to contribute.

  The walk from the subway to the jazz club was short, and as they approached the entrance one of the men had a quick word with the bouncers, who led them inside. The small, elegant club was only half full. Lea’s eyes took a moment to get used to the dim lighting, but when she checked her watch she saw that it was still early.

  A smiling woman in stilettos led them to a large table hidden in an alcove, from which the view of the stage was excellent but nobody could observe them without being very obvious.

  Then Ricco was by Lea’s side, and with a hand in the small of her back ushered her into a seat. He sat next to her, and the man who had come without a plus one took the chair on Lea’s other side. Ricco took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the collar of his shirt.

  “Thank god that’s over.” He looked Lea up and down. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine, yeah,” she said. “Good table.”

  “Only the best for our Ricco when he wants to take out his new conquest,” came from her other side. Lea glanced at the blond man to her left. He seemed familiar, now that she had time to study him.

  “This is Nick,” Ricco said. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”

  Lea took Nick's offered hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought her fingers to his lips for a kiss. Lea wasn't sure whether to giggle or roll her
eyes.

  “I know who you are,” she said. “You were in that film together, you and Ricco. Angels, right?" In one of her internet searches, she had watched some clips of Nick and Ricco on YouTube. He was the one with whom Ricco always behaved like a big child.

  “Dark Angels,” Nick corrected. “The ‘Dark’ part is very important. We were the anti-heroes, you see, and full of existential angst.”

  Ricco’s hand alighted on her thigh under the table, and she couldn’t help a grin. She caught Nick’s smirk. The blond man seemed to know exactly what was going on between her and Ricco. Lea lowered her eyes. Nick was making her nervous. He seemed like the kind of guy who invited trouble. She glanced at Ricco.

  All the stress of the trip to the club was forgotten when her eyes met his. He smiled, a little subdued but as sweet as ever. “We made it, doc,” he whispered. “I’m glad you agreed to come. Wish all this wasn’t necessary, though.” He gestured at their group huddled in the cramped alcove.

  “Never mind.” Lea returned his smile and put her hand on top of his. “You’re here, and I’m here. Who cares about the rest?”

  His beamed. “Hope you’ll enjoy the music. The band’s real good.”

  Nick nudged Lea. “Tell your dude to take his hands out of your panties for a minute so he can concentrate on ordering drinks.” A waiter hovered by their table.

  Lea frowned and Ricco chuckled. He reached around her and punched Nick on the arm, then leaned in so close it gave her goosebumps. “Ignore him, doc. He’s a jerk.” Raising his voice, he added, “Yeah, let’s order!”

  They got wine, beer, cocktails, and snacks for the table, then chatted while waiting for the band to start. Lea felt comfortable with Ricco’s friends. Even Nick reined in his cocky banter after Ricco gave him another warning look. When the band came on Lea had relaxed enough to start sipping her G&T.