by Riley Moreno
“Yeah, seriously. In fact, what do you think about lasagna?”
Jade grinned and her eyes sparkled with glee.
“I love lasagna!” she exclaimed. “It's one of my favorite dishes!”
“Great, it's one of mine too. And I know just the place to get it. There's this little Italian joint, deep in the Bronx, a proper mom-and-pop operation, that I've been going to since I was a kid myself.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Best lasagna in the city, hands down.”
“I'll be the judge of that,” she replied with a warm chuckle.
“Yes you will, and I'll bet you'll rule in my favor, Judge Jade!”
Jade giggled.
“I don't have my own courtroom TV show yet, mister!”
“I can make it happen, Judge Jade. I do own majority shares in a major broadcasting corporation, you know,” he said with a wink.
Jade scratched her chin, pretending to consider the notion.
“Judge Jade huh? I think it has a ring to it. It just might work...”
“Might? Nah. Will! Definitely.”
They both laughed at this – and neither of them failed to recognize the invisible heat of attraction building between them. For a few seconds they locked eyes, and a look of such intensity passed between them that Jade was forced to look away. She felt her pulse starting to race and her pulse quickening – and she wondered whether Brenton was feeling this same rush of emotion pulsing through his own veins. If he did, he didn't show it. Instead, he leaned over and grabbed the keys to his Maserati.
“Come on then,” he said with a boyish grin. “Let's get going.”
Forty minutes later they had arrived at the restaurant. It was around eight in the evening, and the streets of New York city were alive with life. Crowds of people were moving about, hustling and bustling; businesspeople coming home from work, young couples out on dates, groups of friends looking for parties, and bands of tourists going sightseeing, bright-eyed at the brilliant lights and color of the city's night lights.
The restaurant itself was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall place located in a back alley off one of the main streets; it really was, as Brenton had said, a true 'mom-and-pop' operation. The walls were simply decorated with old, faded photographs of an Italian family in Sicily, and the small tables were covered with simple red and white checkered tablecloths, while in the background old, soothing crooner tunes from the 1950s played on a dusty LP player.
As Jade approached the table they were to be seated at, Brenton hurried around and pulled out her chair for her, indicating with a warm smile and a sweep of his powerful arm that she should take a seat.
“Thank you,” she beamed, feeling her cheeks warming with a blush.
“I'm old-fashioned, sometimes,” he said.
Between them, on the table, a candle burned and flickered, illuminating each of their faces with its gentle glow.
“You really look stunning in this light, Jade,” said Brenton as he locked his eyes into hers.
“Why, th-, thank you,” she managed to stammer.
The candlelight served to bring out Brenton's rugged, handsome features quite impressively as well, but before Jade could say this, an old Italian-American woman shuffled over to them. She looked as if she were at least eighty; her back was hunched over, and her heavily-wrinkled skin looked as thin and delicate as old vellum parchment. On her prominent nose sat a pair of thick coke-bottle glasses, which magnified her large, dark eyes almost disconcertingly.
“Brenton, my boy!” she exclaimed in a warm, husky voice, sounding like a delighted grandmother seeing her favorite grandchild. “It's so wonderful to see you!”
Brenton laughed warmly.
“It's only been four days, Mrs. Stagliano!”
“Four days too many!” she chuckled in response with a wink and a smile. “And who's this lovely lady with you? C'mon, don't be rude now, introduce us!”
Brenton smiled.
“Jade, I'd like you to meet one of my oldest and dearest friends, Mrs. Linda Stagliano. Mrs. Stagliano, this is Jade Gillie, my-”
“New girlfriend?” asked Mrs. Stagliano with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
Brenton laughed, but it seemed that he couldn't meet Jade's eyes when she said this.
“No, no. Jade is working with me.”
“Well, she's so pretty that she should be your girlfriend! Take my advice for once, why don't ya?”
“Alright, alright,” laughed Brenton.
“I'm very pleased to meet you,” interjected Jade. “You have a lovely place here.”
“Why thank you, dear! It's been in the family for three generations, you know. And this Brenton here, he's been eating here since before he could even walk or talk. You should try our lasagna Jade, it's-”
“Legendary!” interrupted Brenton with a great, beaming grin. “We'll have two of your special lasagnas, Mrs. Stagliano.”
“Done! Anything to drink?”
“A bottle of dry red, if that's okay with you, Jade?”
Jade nodded, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.
“Red wine would be fantastic.”
Mrs. Stagliano smiled and clasped her hands together before shuffling off to take care of the order.
“Have you really been coming here since you were a little boy?” asked Jade.
“Since I was a baby. My mom and dad used to come to this restaurant all the time. I grew up in this neighborhood, you know.”
“You grew up here?”
“Yeah. I wasn't always wealthy, Jade. In fact, I grew up in a very small, modest two-bedroom apartment. My dad worked as a doorman at a nearby building, and my mom used to sew and knit to make ends meet. We didn't have much growing up, but we did have a lot of love in my family.”
“And where are your parents these days? I'm sure they must be happy to have such a successful son, right?”
A look of sudden sadness flashed across Brenton's face, and he looked away quickly. It seemed as if tears had begun to rim the edges of his eyes.
“They... They're not around any more,” he said softly.
“Oh,” responded Jade, somewhat awkwardly. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up-”
“It's okay,” he replied, speaking more confidently now. “Don't worry about it, you couldn't have known. Besides, it happened a very long time ago. It's just that... Well, they passed away when I was only fifteen. Car crash. They never got to see me become a success.”
Tears rimmed the edges of Jade's eyes now, and she felt sadness stinging at the corners of her eyes.
“I'm so sorry to hear that,” she said.
“C'est la vie,” he mumbled. “Life, Jade. Sometimes it throws all sorts of terrible things at you. What makes you a winner or a loser is how you deal with those things. For me, my parents' death only made me stronger, and more determined to succeed. It hardened me, made me a man. Made me see the realities of this life, this world. And that has enabled me to get where I am today.”
The conversation was interrupted by Mrs. Stagliano bringing the bottle of wine and two glasses to the table. Jade felt grateful for the interruption, because it seemed as if the conversation had been getting a bit too serious.
“Everything good here, Brenton and Jade?”
“Everything is great, Mrs. Stagliano. I gotta say, I'm really looking forward to that lasagna. It's gonna hit the spot, I can already tell!”
“It always does, my sweet boy!”
“When are you gonna give me the recipe for the secret sauce, Mrs. Stagliano?”
The old woman laughed.
“You know what the answer to that question is, Brenton?”
“I know, but I figured I'd ask anyway...”
“I'm going to the back to help old Mr. Stagliano fix up that lasagna for you two. He can't see that good these days, and I don't want him mixing up ingredients. You two enjoy the wine, and get ready for the best lasagna you've ever sunk your teeth into!”
She shuffled off into
the dimly-lit kitchen, and left Brenton and Jade to enjoy their wine to the gentle backdrop of the '50s crooners singing out their sad, bittersweet songs of love and heartache.
Brenton and Jade talked late into the night over the wine and lasagna, getting to know about each other's pasts, personalities and future hopes and dreams. Each found that it was surprisingly easy to open up to and confide in the other, and neither of them remembered when last they had had a conversation of such depth and intimacy. After finishing the second bottle of wine, Jade, who was feeling more than a little tipsy, glanced at her phone.
“Oh, it's almost midnight!” she exclaimed. “I have to get going.”
“Yeah, you're right,” agreed Brenton. His face was glowing; he too was more than a little tipsy. “I shouldn't drive though,” he added. “I've had a bit too much of that lovely wine.”
“We can take a taxi,” ventured Jade.
She blushed suddenly, realizing what she had just suggested. But it was too late to counter it – Brenton had already jumped on the opportunity.
“Excellent,” he said quickly. “I'll park my Maserati around the back and get it in the morning. Mrs. Stagliano has a nephew who's a cabbie in this area. He knows where my penthouse is. He can take use there.”
“Oh, I-”
“No no, Jade, no protesting from you. You're more than an hour's cab ride away. My place is a lot closer.”
“Look, I've got plenty of spare bedrooms,” he added with haste. “I'm just going to hit the sack as soon as I get back. I'll call ahead and have my housekeeper prepare a room for you.”
“Alright,” replied Jade, feeling the warmth of the wine heating up her body. “Alright then. Let's go.”
Brenton shot her a cheeky grin, and then took out his phone.
“This is gonna get interesting,” thought Jade to herself. “Really interesting.”
CHAPTER 6
A light, cool rain began to fall as the taxi pulled up to the sidewalk, and Brenton pulled off his Versace overcoat and draped it over Jade's shoulders.
“This'll keep you dry,” he said, his deep voice uncharacteristically gentle.
She had grown to be very fond of this sound of his voice, with its deep, soothing timbre. And now, as she prepared to step out of the cab into the cool of the night, she closed her eyes briefly and drank in his musky, manly scent, in which the coat was saturated.
While Brenton was paying the fare, Jade climbed out of the cab and hurried across the wet sidewalk to the entrance to the building; a tall, imposing skyscraper of glass and steel. Brenton owned the lavish penthouse at the top. She hurried inside the building, where she was greeted by an elderly Puerto Rican doorman.
“You're a friend of Mr. Huxley's, huh?” he asked with a warm smile.
“I am,” she answered.
“Pretty lady,” he said with a wink. “And lucky, too. Mr. Huxley's a great guy. Really great guy.”
Just then Jade's phone buzzed. She opened her bag and took it out, and saw another gossipy message from Jenny waiting for her on the screen. She opened the message and was about to read it when she felt a strong arm curl gently around her waist.
“Do you like dancing, Madame?” whispered Brenton into her ear. “I can waltz, I can tango, I can two-step, I can jive... Take your pick!”
With a laugh he twirled her around, and she couldn't help but giggle with delight.
“I think I'm a bit too tipsy to remember my tango steps,” she laughed as she tucked her phone back into her bag.
“I'll throw on a record upstairs. Music helps the body remember how to move. It always does, trust me...”
Brenton then turned to the kindly old Puerto Rican porter.
“Francisco,” he said, “would you be so kind as to buzz us up to my floor?”
“Top floor it is, Mr. Huxley!” said the old man with a sparkle in his eye, and he hurried over to the elevator and opened the doors for them. “You two have yourselves a lovely evening now,” he said as he sent them up in the elevator.
Jade was not prepared for what was waiting at her at the top of the elevator ride; no, not in the least. She stepped out of the elevator into a hallway that was all marble and gold. Everything was swimming in opulence. Tasteful opulence, yes, but opulence nonetheless. She was quite surprised to see two shiny, lovingly-polished vintage racing cars parked on either side of a huge, intricately-carved wooden door.
“This way, Jade,” said Brenton as he strutted over to the door.
“Nice cars,” she murmured as she followed him.
“The red one belonged to Steve McQueen,” he said with casual ease, as if it were a mere magazine on a shelf that he was talking about, “and the black one belonged to Elvis, for a while.”
He pushed open the huge doors, revealing a vast space lined with a huge 360-degree array of windows that looked out over the entirety of the New York City skyline. It was like the view from his office, only far more comprehensive and vast. Jade couldn't help but gasp with delight. She walked slowly into the huge space, marveling at everything she saw before her. On one wall, an enormous screen, like a movie theater screen, was mounted, while lavish decorations gleamed under the subtly-placed, gentle glow of hundreds of directional lights. She gasped and then chuckled with surprise as she saw a Bat-suit standing menacingly in a glass display case.
“Is there a secret about yourself that you'd like to tell me, Brenton?” she asked with a laugh, pointing at the suit.
“You got me,” he said, raising his hands with a grin. “Yes, I'm Bruce Wayne. Call me Batman if you want, though.”
She chuckled.
“Alright, alright, so tell me, why do you really have that thing?”
“I'm a huge Batman fan. Huge! Ever since I was a kid, I've had a Batman obsession. That suit there is the one Michael Keaton wore in Batman Returns.”
“No way. The real thing, as in, the actual suit used in the movie?”
“The real thing, one hundred percent. I got it at a Hollywood charity auction. You wanna try it on?”
Jade laughed loudly.
“Are you kidding? Come on, it's not Halloween tonight.”
“You're right, you're right. Well, how about Catwoman? I'm pretty sure I've got a Catwoman suit somewhere around here...”
A flirtatious gleam entered Jade's large, dark eyes.
“Oh, I could be your Catwoman, if you could be my Batman.”
Brenton smiled slowly, staring at Jade all the while, and it seemed as if some sort of fire had been lit deep within him.
“You know who my favorite Catwoman was?” he asked.
“Who?”
“Halle Berry,” he replied.
“Is that so, huh?”
He started walking slowly over to Jade, his eyes locked with hers all the while.
“Yeah, that's so. You know why I liked her as Catwoman so much?”
“Why?”
Jade could feel her pulse starting to quicken with every step he took that brought him closer. She could feel the heat radiating off of his body, could see his chiseled muscles rippling beneath his half-unbuttoned shirt. She felt her heart beginning to thump hot, hot blood through her veins, and all of a sudden her nerve endings began to tingle.
“She was different to anyone else who had played Catwoman. Darker... much darker. Do you know what I mean, Jade? I like ...dark... girls, Jade. Girls like... like you.”
He reached her, and stood for a moment before her, looking down into her eyes from his six-foot-four height. Abruptly, he dropped to his knees, and took one of her mahogany-colored hands in his, and started placing soft, nibbling kisses with his red lips and white teeth on her skin.
Jade felt an overpowering heat now building in another part of her body; down there, down at the meeting of her thighs. She began to run her fingers through Brenton's soft blonde hair – and then, as he bit with sudden force into her wrist, she gripped a handful of his hair and balled it tight into her fist as she gasped involuntarily. She heard him moa
n with pleasure as he continued to nibble and bite at her skin, moving his mouth and teeth up her arm, so she pulled harder at his hair, almost with a force that would start ripping it out.
He shot one of his hands out, with as much speed as he had punched the mugger with – but it was not to hit her. He clamped his hand onto one of her round, firm breasts, and squeezed it, hard. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to say that he meant business. With his other hand, he reached out behind her and grabbed one of her ass cheeks, and as he squeezed its fullness, she heard him moan with slow pleasure.
A wetness was now spreading between her legs, and her dark nipples were growing hard and erect with arousal. She took her hand off of his head and reached around behind her back to unzip her dress, and she pulled it down as it opened. While her hands were there, she unclipped her bra, and allowed her substantial breasts to spill out of their confines into the open.
By this time, Brenton had reached her shoulder with his kisses and bites and nibbles, so it did not take long for him to move his roving mouth to her right breast, which he licked at, flicking his tongue across the broad surface of the ever-hardening nipple. With his other hand he cupped her large but firm left breast, caressing and massaging it.
Jade let out whimpers and titters of pleasure as his deft tongue and powerful hands went to work on her. Soon, his head was moving down, further down and further down. His tongue was exploring her midriff, her flat, taut belly and then the space below it. With slow but determined hands he pulled her panties down, exposing the exceptionally dark but smooth-shaven area that they had been concealing.
“God, you're so wet,” he gasped as he cupped her pussy with his hand and slid a probing finger in, causing her to gasp loudly with the sudden pleasure that his entry invoked.
“So wet, so gloriously wet.”
With that, he pulled her to the ground, on top of a plush Persian rug, and with his eager lips and tongue he began to devour her pussy utterly, seemingly insatiable, with the lustful hunger of a wild, rabid beast. He clapped his hands twice, and the lights dimmed down low.
That was when the fireworks really began.
