by S. W. Frank
“Vi piace?” Giuseppe asked after orally tasting her.
“Sí…umm…mi piace molto.”
He rolled onto his back next to her. “Touch me now.”
Her body felt strange. She did not want him to stop with the lessons, and said so. “I like when you touch me and kiss me down there.”
“There is more to the lesson Lucia. You must learn how to give pleasure as well, capisce?” Eager, she turned to await further instruction. He took her hand and placed it on his dick. “Rub, like before.”
She did as told.
“Form a circle with your mouth and wrap your lips around the tip,” he said pointing to the crown.
Her lips opened, and she felt stupid because she didn’t know what came next. Her eyes revealed too much.
He laughed. “Be careful with your teeth; suck as you would your favorite sweet. Back and forth, top to bottom, lick and squeeze as you go.”
Lucia tried. At first her teeth raked him and he tensed. Soon she got the hang of it and sucked skillfully, receiving words of encouragement and declarations of love. It was true, he loved her then as any boy would when his dick is sucked so damn well and semen spurts in a gush. She gagged, and he told her to swallow. He loved her more when she did and licked her lips and then said, “You taste good.”
The lesson was not over. They had plenty of time. He made certain to give the cook a list of rare delicacies to buy, claiming his mama wanted to try out exotic new recipes. She believed Giuseppe because she also spoiled the boy.
Giuseppe sat forward. “This part is the best. It is when we join our bodies and become one.”
The pretty girl with the breasts and thin waist and curvy hips of a woman had caused his blood to burn every time he saw her. Quiet, pretty Lucia Peglesi, was a girl he could love. “Lie on your back.”
She did what he asked.
He was rigid again. “Spread your legs for me bella.”
Again she acquiesced.
He moved close, holding his dick, rubbing gently against her vaginal slit, feeling her softness, wanting to fuck her hard but couldn’t. She was not like the other girls. Lucia Peglesi had yet to know boys. It is in the innocent eyes he saw uncertainty from someone untouched. He did not penetrate her walls, only teased the lips which moistened in response. He raised himself to feel in his drawer for a rubber, his hand went limp, and perhaps she did not fully understand what she did in that moment as she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them together. His hands pressed against the bed over her head and he cursed, “Merda che non ha aspettato!”
He had gained his equilibrium but his weight had pressed the girl’s buttocks to the mattress. He had fully penetrated the novice and she held him so tight and he throbbed from the joy of her womanly breasts cushioning his massive chest that he did not withdraw. In excitement he sucked her nipple and she arched her hips forward and he pleasured her more. She clutched his dick, far tighter than any girl before. He taught her the joy of sex in different positions. He could not get enough of Lucia Peglesi and in the heat of young passion; he ejaculated many times and did not care of anything beyond the moment.
The love torched him and his eyes fluttered rapidly. Then the image of a woman with syrupy skin, a micio of molasses more sweet than any he’d tasted made him cum –hard. He shout, gripped the edge of one of the posts with sweaty hands. The force of the emotion seizing his body resulted in a spontaneous combustion that collapsed Giuseppe and then wood broke in his hands.
His comatose mind felt a sudden ache. He didn’t understand why. Everything became darkness. What he thought was real was fractured memories of the past, present and future colliding during a medically induced sleep. He was not aware of a mother clasping his hand as his eyes rapidly blinked.
CHAPTER FOUR
Maria rushed upstairs at the sound of Allie’s cries. The babies were asleep. Allie on the other-hand required medicine to help her rest. She passed Sal in the hallway as he headed toward the bathroom. The boy liked to stay up late. Cupping the glass of orange juice for his cranky sister Maria entered the little girl’s room, sat the drink atop the nightstand and then touched the child’s forehead. Ah, she was hot to the touch, fever had set in. She measured the cherry flavored fever reducer and put it to the girl’s lips. “Come niña, drink for Nana.”
“I don’t want it Nana. I want mommy.”
“Mommy will be home soon. Take a sip, por favor.”
Allie drank with a wrinkled nose. “It’s nasty.”
“Yo se, but it will help make you better.”
It was not long after the child finally closed her eyes and the house became quiet for the first time all day. She covered the girl and then went to check on Sal just as the doorbell rang. Maria checked the hall clock. It was after nine. Who visited at this hour on a Sunday night?
Sal was still awake playing his video game in bed when she passed his room. “Go to bed Salvatore.”
“I can’t sleep.”
Maria huffed. “Turn off the light and put the game away and maybe then you will,” she answered as a male voice filled the house. She recognized Bruno’s gravelly voice. She wagged a finger at her grandson who was too much like his father before heading downstairs to find out why Bruno had come.
Anita was standing with him in the living room. The woman’s expression looked as if someone had died. “Senora Maria, madre de dios, something bad has happened.”
Maria looked from Anita to Bruno who stood with his hands clasped like an undertaker in front of his suit. His eyes did not falter from her face. “Maria, I have come to tell you Alfonzo was shot but he will survive the wounds.”
“Que?” Maria choked out. It took a second for the remainder of the sentence to form. “And …Selange…is she okay?”
Bruno’s eyes were downcast at the mention of the young woman Maria considered a daughter. “She…is hurt but not dead.”
“How badly?” Maria shouted, unable to tolerate the suspense.
“She was in surgery when I left. I do not know any more.”
Maria’s hand cupped her mouth to stifle the cry. Her eyes looked up at the stairs as she thought of the children. At the top of the staircase Sal stood clad in pajamas, too tall for a boy his age, too smart for someone so young, but a child nonetheless, evident by the words he shouted to Bruno. “You’re a fucking liar. My dad would never let anything happen to my mom!”
“Salvatore –oh Dios!” Maria wailed when he rushed downstairs.
His attempt to attack Bruno in a fit of rage was foiled when his grandmother caught him in a bear hug as he screamed, “I’m calling Uncle Geo. He’ll tell me the truth!”
Bruno did not respond. The boy was upset.
Maria wrestled the boy, for a mature woman it was a herculean feat. He jerked and flailed in an apoplectic fit. His sorrow was strong and she bled for her grandson. “Sal stop it, ahora!”
“Nana. I don’t believe him, he’s lying!”
Maria’s breasts heaved excitedly. The boy was overly distraught. She had never seen her grandson like this. He made a dash for the door once her arms slackened. Bruno intervened, stopping Sal before he ran outside to the dark. “Calm yourself, giovani.”
Maria’s loving embrace comforted a frightened boy and held him still. “Salvatore…sweet boy…your mama and papa taught you to be strong, no?”
Sal’s blue eyes were running tears. His mouth was an angry line like his father as he tried to be brave but it trembled from the effort. “Nana, I need to see my mom and dad…they need me.”
“Nana needs you, tambien.”
A boy’s arms went about his grandmother and he cried like a heartbroken child. She soothed the boy, rubbing his hair, thinking of her son and praying for his wife.
Bruno did not move. She saw his pain. It is the eyes which stared at her with love that gave her strength. “I will stay until mornin
g, but I must return to Palermo,” he said softly.
Maria nodded. Once Sal was asleep she would have Bruno tell her everything. There weren’t any words to describe her sorrow. Alfonzo and Selange went to Italy for a christening. They were due home tomorrow, that was the plan, and instead they were hospitalized because of bullets. She was strong, because in New York, many mothers undergo such sorrow as a way of life. But, this evil touching their lives was not the creators doing. It belonged to the ills of man. They warred and brought misery in times of love. She added a prayer for mankind. Lost they were…and vile.
CHAPTER FIVE
Selange heard her name. The voice belonged to that of a long-time friend. The sound was nice to hear, especially when the company of guards and machines in a sterile environment for the infirmed is not where she wanted to be. On a plane, going home to her children is what she and Al were supposed to be doing, until gunfire altered their plan.
“Hi,” Shanda said when her eyes opened and Selange focused.
Shanda held Carlo, which Selange found strange under the circumstances, but she didn’t comment. Knowing Shanda, the woman was petrified of letting the baby out of her sight after the shooting. Carlo looked happy and Selange smiled. “Hi.”
Shanda frowned. “You gave me a scare. I thought you were dead.”
“Me, too.”
“Thanks for keeping Carlo safe.”
“Like I wouldn’t?”
There wasn’t a grin or a wise-crack. Shanda’s severe expression remained. “I’m going back to Brooklyn. I can’t do this; I came to say thank you for protecting Carlo and I’ll always love you.”
Selange’s face tightened. She had heard these words before from Shanda. The day her mother was murdered; a day she needed her friend most and instead Alfonzo had stepped in to fill her place. Shanda opted for the easy way out, yet again. She was burrowing into a hole to hide from life. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, my parents are here. I’m going to stay with them for a while.”
“And what about Giuseppe…what about Carlo’s father…huh?”
Shanda was dead serious when she said, “I love him but Carlo’s who I have to protect.”
“Shanda…is this you talking or your parents…did they convince you to go?”
“Girl, they’re speaking the truth. A good mother shouldn’t subject her children to bullets and craziness for any man.”
Selange gasped. Her abdomen hurt during the action. “So, you’re implying I’m a bad mother?”
“No…no…I’m not saying that.” Shanda back-pedaled when she recognized the offense.
“You know something Shanda, you’re a grown woman. If you want to run home to mommy and daddy every-time life gets real, then go right ahead. One minute you want independence and the next you’re acting like a child. And for your information I’m a good mother. I love my children and their father and unlike you I would never run out on Alfonzo when he’s injured. And, if I were to leave with his children, I wouldn’t do it when he’s incapacitated, I’d do it when he’s standing and healthy, like a real woman!”
“Selange–”
“Don’t Selange me…go… get out of here Shanda. Hide, but every day when you look in the mirror, I hope you see what a damn coward you are!”
Selange pushed her face in the pillow because she didn’t want to hear any more from the spineless hussy, she also didn’t want Shanda to see her tears. Shanda was a selfish, self-centered bitch to do this to Giuseppe…to Carlo…and to her!
The door clicked shut; the heffa actually left. Selange growled and leaped with the pillow, perched to toss it at the door when Nico stepped in. “Hey…whoa…did I do something?” he asked and she lowered the flimsy weapon.
“No Nico, I’m just upset.”
His mouth tugged downward at the corners. “Join the party kid. How are you feeling because you gave me a helluva scare?”
“Oh, I’ll be fine.”
“Then why were you about to toss that pillow?”
“Women stuff.”
“Shanda’s parents are waiting in the lobby, I guess she’s high-tailing her ass out of Dodge, huh?”
“She’s wrong to do this…I’m sick to death of her!”
“Everyone handles things in their own way,” he offered in consolation, which was rather weak even to his ears. He didn’t understand Shanda either, fickle ass woman. She projected a tough attitude but the woman lying in bed with the softest disposition was a real warrior and Shanda, well, Nico considered her weak.
The tension began to dissolve. “I suppose.”
Nico gestured for the bodyguard to leave. He needed to have a private talk with his only female friend. The moment the soldati exited Nico claimed a seat beside her bed. He saw the bloodshot eye and gave no outward indication of concern, injuries like that he’d seen before and they were often worse in appearance. The doctor already confirmed the blood would clear and she’d have no problem with her vision. Confident she was on the mend and completely alert, he relaxed and folded his hands on his knee. “Ari had the baby.”
“That’s wonderful Nico, congratulations.”
“Thanks,” he said as she repositioned the pillow and reclined. He just had a long talk with Ari prior to visiting Selange. Their baby was doing great and mother and child would be discharged tomorrow. He arranged for his family to go to his exclusive villa in the province of Cefalu. She would be safe there and away from the paparazzi swarming the hospital for pictures of the Giacanti’s. Thankfully, her parents would accompany her and stay for a few days before going home. A pair of bodyguards would guard his family until….he gave a quiet sigh….until word was sent.
For some reason Selange’s presence had a therapeutic effect. Maybe, it's because they shared a love of the arts and spoke unguarded about their love of such things. They hadn’t shared one moment alone since learning of the twin’s paternity. That was fine, but there were times he missed their easy conversations. “Do you need anything?”
“Can you heal my husband, Geo and the others and change the series of events?”
His eyebrows furrowed. Last night he had wondered the same thing. If he’d killed his mother and her husband, would he have stopped the carnage? “No, I can’t.”
“Then family is all I need.”
Fond eyes twinkled. “You never cease to amaze me kid.”
“Why is that?”
“Not many women can handle this life, especially one who wasn’t born into it.”
“It’s called adapting.”
Nico nodded. His brother’s wife had skipped out; she couldn’t deal with the prospect of getting gunned down or having children with someone who might become marked for death. He suspected Selange’s friend was that type of woman. He didn’t comment any more on the subject though. Stressing over the actions of others seemed like a waste of energy. Instead, he sat forward in order for Selange to view the sincerity of his face. “You’ve more than adapted. You’re what many might call, una Mafia Regina.”
She squinted. “A Queen of Mafia?”
“Good, Mafia Queen,” he answered with a grin. He couldn’t help but remember the time she’d mixed up a translation and inadvertently insulted a farmer some time back. “It’s a phrase I usually don’t like, but in your case it isn’t a negative connotation it’s quite fitting.”
“No, it’s not Nico. I’m here by default, but I’ll stand by my husband because he’s not an evil person. I know him better than anybody and I’ve come to know the family history. I’ll be damned if I desert him or any of you at this juncture. We’re all family, now.”
Her passionate speech caused hi
m to grin. Alfonzo ruled organized crime and as his wife she reigned at his side similar to a Queen, like it or not. “Simmer down. Don’t bust any stitches or they’ll keep you longer.” His voice took on a more serious tone. “We’ve always been straight with each other, haven’t we?”
She nodded in affirmation.
“I have to go away on business, three days –tops that’s if everything goes according to plan. If you don’t hear from me in a week I’m dead kid and Ari might need a friend.”
Selange’s eyes closed and she breathed deeply. He was telling her this…but why…why? Then her eyes opened. She had to remind Nico of his importance in many lives. Aside from his profession, he was also well-loved and admired. The five o’clock shadow on his rugged face at noon revealed his fatigue. He was feeling low and had come to share a confidence but hope is what he received. When a friend is downcast, it’s crucial to provide words of encouragement. Nico needed this to deal with their enemies. She’d seen Nico’s demons. An image came to life. A man with eyes pierced by steel rods which protruded from his skull was the dark side of a tormented killer. The horrific sight had caused her to wretch, because it was the nature in which Nico had killed Gina’s brother that gave her insight into his dark soul. But, there was another side of the enforcer, a connoisseur of art, poetry and fine cuisine that others did not know. His sketches were amazing, his knowledge in these delights, astounding. Yes, he was a killer, but a brutal butcher of a child’s dreams made him so. Nico deserved happiness, and a chance to live out his passion. Selange spoke the unfiltered thoughts in her heart, “I’ll be there for Ari, but not because I expect you not to return, it’s because I genuinely like her. Nico, have I told you how much I value you as a friend?”
