by Magan Vernon
I slowed my car once the smooth voice of my GPS informed me I was approaching Jackie’s street. It was a one-way road with cars parked on both sides in front of a line of crumbling brick townhouses, each one more weathered than the next. I stopped at 1010, Jackie’s address. A cracked sidewalk led up to cement stoop with a rusted railing and faded white storm door. Like all the others, her lawn needed some watering.
I grabbed my phone to text to her, but before I could punch in the number the door opened and she stepped out, running down the sidewalk as fast as her sky high heels could carry her. I admit, I stared a little longer than I should’ve, watching the way her body moved in her tight jeans and a long black tank top that I wanted to peel off of her. I had to keep myself in check. I couldn’t jump her the first second I saw her. I didn’t know why she called me in the first place. Maybe she didn’t even really want to hang out. Maybe she was calling me out to slap me, to spit on me and say she never wanted to see me again.
Jackie opened the door and climbed into my car, shutting the door behind her. “Nice ride you got here, Nicky.” She puckered her pouty lips, which were painted a dark red color. I wasn’t much for lipstick on a girl, but I’d definitely let her paint that color on my dick if she wanted to.
“Yeah. It’s not bad.” I put the car in Drive and pulled away from the curb.
“If you kept it in my hood, it would probably have the tires and rims gone within twenty minutes.” There was no humor to her voice. She stared at her hands, picking at the skin behind her black-painted fingernails.
I sucked in a deep breath and took a chance, taking her hand and interlacing our fingers. “Your neighborhood isn’t that bad. I’ve been in worse.”
I exhaled when she laughed and squeezed my hand. “Yeah, says the guy with the Bentley.”
“We can’t judge everyone by their appearances. Just because I drive a nice car, doesn’t mean I don’t know what it’s like to work for what I’ve got.”
She bit her lip before running her tongue along it. I had to keep my eyes on the road, but god damn I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to prove to her that I was more than my car or my money. She’d seen the Nick that had the office and the nice car. She’d seen the Nick in the cage and the Nick that gave her multiple orgasms. I wanted her to know every part of me and I wanted to know every part of her. “I’m not saying that at all. Sorry if I’m coming off bitchy. I’m kind of on edge.”
“No need to apologize to me. You’re just being yourself and saying what you feel. If I had some guy show up to my place in a car like mine I’d probably say the same thing.” I glanced over at her eyes, which were intensely focused on me. Like she was studying me, trying to figure me out.
“I’m probably not the typical girl you usually pick up. I feel like I’m some sort of charity case, or you’re slumming it to get back for some sort of daddy issues, if we’re being completely honest here.”
I shook my head and laughed. “It’s funny that you think so highly of me.” I looked over at her to see that she was still focused on me before I got onto the expressway. “I’m not the type of guy that ever chases girls. You’re one of the first I’ve gone after in a very long time, actually.”
She let out a slight laugh. “You’re just saying that shit so I’ll give you road head.”
“I don’t operate like that. I’m not some sex-crazed fiend.”
“Says the guy who bent me over in his office,” she muttered.
I sighed. “Look, as much as I’d love to pull over right now and fuck the shit out of you in my backseat, I’m not going to. You say the word and I’d do it. But I’m not that guy. I actually do want to get to know you, not just fuck you randomly. There’s something about you that drives me absolutely insane, in a good way. I want to get to know you. I want to know the girl that drives a motorcycle and shows up to a guy’s office she barely knows and refuses to take his gift and smacks him instead. I want you, Jackie. That’s all there is to it.”
“For being the guy with a certain reputation, you’re sure failing at this tough guy thing, you know that,” she teased, running her thumb along mine.
“Maybe I’m not as tough as everyone wants me to be. You just have to peel back the layers to get to the softer side.”
The leather seats squeaked underneath her as she tilted closer. Her dark hair cascaded onto my shoulder and I smelled her shampoo. It was fresh, and mixed with the smell of her flowery perfume it was like pure heaven. She blew a soft breath onto my ear before nipping at it. I was glad I had a good grip on the steering wheel because I might have gone off the road and crashed if I didn’t.
“I look forward to seeing more of the softer side of you, Nicky Ragusa,” she whispered and then slid back into her seat. My dick was so hard it was painful. But now I’d have to control myself and prove to her that I wasn’t that guy.
“We’ll see if you’re still saying that after you taste my cooking.” It took everything in my power to say the words and not come up with something sexual instead. I wasn’t the guy that just wanted to screw her and throw her away. I needed to show her that. If not for her, for myself. I didn’t want to be my father’s son. I didn’t want to be the guy that used and abused women. I’d seen that too much from the Ragusa men. And that wasn’t going to be me.
Not anymore.
Chapter 11
“This is where you live?” Jackie stared out the window at my complex as we pulled into the underground parking garage.
“Yeah. It is.” Fuck. She was judging me. Maybe for the first real date I shouldn’t have brought her back to my place, and just done dinner out or something. Now she really was going to think I was all about the money.
She nodded. “It looks nice.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” I didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t need me to brag and I didn’t want to be that guy.
I pulled into my parking space and turned off the engine, opening the door and quickly jumping out of the car, racing around to the other side and opening her door. She arched an eyebrow, sticking out one of her long legs as I extended a hand to her. “What’s with the gentleman thing?”
I helped her out of the car, shutting the door behind her and then put my hand on the small of her back. “A guy should never stop opening a door for a woman or treating her like she’s the most important person in the world.”
“You’re doing a lot of work to try and impress me,” she murmured.
I guided her toward the elevator and pressed the button. “I’m just telling you what I believe.”
The doors dinged open and we stepped inside. I turned my key in the slot to guide the elevator to the penthouse as the elevator doors closed behind us and we started moving again.
Jackie blinked slowly. “If you’re being so honest, tell me what you see in me, then. I’m a white trash hairdresser that you met because you hit me with your nice ass car. What do I have that a million other girls in this city don’t?”
I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer, turning her slightly so she was pressed against me. She gasped, her lips slightly parted, and it made the desire to kiss her even stronger. I ran my free hand along her bottom lip. “For one, you have the most beautiful set of lips I’ve ever seen,” I whispered, leaning closer. “But the main reason is because I see something in you that I don’t see in anyone else. You have a look in your eyes that’s passionate yet vulnerable at the same time. Every time I look into them I want to know more about the girl behind those gorgeous green eyes. I want more of you. All of you.”
She leaned closer, closing her eyes. Just as her lips touched mine, the elevator dinged and she jumped back. Fucking ding.
I licked my lips. “I guess this is where we get off.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She nodded.
I took her hand and led her off the elevator and down the hall. After sliding the key in, I opened the door, bathing us with the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room.
“
This. Is. Beautiful,” she whispered, letting go of my hand and walking slowly into the living room, staring out the windows. “I can’t believe you live here.” She turned away from the window, focusing on me. “Do you live here alone?”
“Yeah. It’s just me.”
She took slow steps, walking back toward the doorway where I stood. “Isn’t it lonely, staying in this big place by yourself?”
I swallowed hard. No one had ever asked me that before. People usually were just impressed that a guy my age lived in a multi-million dollar penthouse. They never thought about how empty it was, about the fact that it was just me there every night. “Yeah. It is really lonely sometimes, actually.”
“Then why live here alone? Why not get a roommate or something?”
I smiled, shaking my head. “I don’t think anyone would want to live with me. I’m not exactly the easiest guy to get along with.”
“Why is that?” She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you hiding some dark secret life that I shouldn’t know about?”
I bit my lip. “I think you know a lot more about me than I even know about myself.”
She shook her head, staring into my eyes as if she could see something more, something even I wasn’t seeing. “There’s a lot more to you than you give yourself credit for. I’m just trying to figure you out. Everyone makes you out to be this powerful and elusive man, but I’ve seen the compassionate soul, the one who took care of me when I needed someone. I may not have remembered a lot of what happened that night in the hospital, but I know you were there for me.”
I turned away toward the kitchen and stepped onto the tile floor. “We don’t need to talk about that night. I shouldn’t have fucked up your bike. Or you for that matter.”
“It was an accident, Nick.” She grabbed my hand with both of hers. “You don’t need to beat yourself up for it and buy me expensive gifts. You don’t need to make me like you for the money you have. I like you for you.”
I turned and stared at her hands. They were so small in mine. So fragile. It was like the first time I saw her tiny body as I put her in my car. All I wanted to do was protect her. Jackie was the first person who really ever brought out the fighter in me. Not the one who became numb to the punches and kept his head in the ring, but the one with raw passion. The girl was it for me.
My eyes trailed from our hands to meet her eyes. “Okay, Jackie. For you I can try, but you have to do something for me.”
She blinked. “Okay, I can do that. What do you want me to do?”
I smiled. “You’re going to have to cook with me.”
She laughed, the sweetest sound I’d heard. It brightened up her whole face and I wanted to make her laugh again. “You’re really serious about this whole cooking thing aren’t you?”
I let go of her hand and opened a drawer in the island in front of us. “You bet your ass I am. Like I said, what kind of good Italian boy would I be if I didn’t know how to cook?” I pulled a glass pan from the drawer, setting it on the granite counter.
“Okay, good Italian boy, what are we making?” she asked and followed me to the sink where I rolled up my sleeves and washed my hands.
“Lasagna. I thought we’d start out simple before working our way up to the bigger dishes.” I dried my hands on a dish towel hanging from the stove and she went to wash her hands in the sink.
“I don’t think I’ve ever cooked lasagna. Or really cooked much at all. My grandma wasn’t much of a cook.” She rinsed her hands and I handed her the towel.
“My Nonna taught me everything about cooking. She used to own a restaurant in the suburbs and when she got too sick to run it, my uncle Guido took it over.” I opened the double doors of my subzero fridge and pulled out a container of ricotta cheese, eggs, crumbled Italian sausage, mozzarella, and parmesan.
“Yeah, my family was never that domestic. Gram’s idea of cooking was burning a TV dinner in the microwave.” Jackie didn’t look up from the towel as she wiped her hands and then hung it back on the stove.
“Your mom never cooked either?” I asked, setting the ingredients on the counter and turning to grab the noodles and a jar of my uncle Guido’s homemade sugo from the pantry.
She shrugged. “Mom skipped town soon after I was born. I wouldn’t know.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. Some people just aren’t so lucky in life.”
“I wouldn’t say that I’m lucky.”
She looked up, widening her eyes. “Oh, shit, I didn’t mean that to be mean or anything.” She put her hand on her forehead. “Sorry, I’m just nervous and tend to say stupid shit when I’m not thinking.”
I shook my head, setting the noodles and sugo on the counter. “You don’t need to apologize to me, Jackie. Some people just grow up differently. You’re free to think what you want of me until I can show you otherwise. I’m hoping that you don’t think I’m just some spoiled piece of shit guy who gets whatever he wants.”
“Not at all. You definitely proved that in the cage. I don’t think I’d ever see a guy like you fight at a place like The Candy shop. Or take a hit like that.”
I sprayed the pan with cooking spray and shook my head. “Yeah, I didn’t plan on taking that hit. The guy kind of took me by surprise.”
“Ricky isn’t known for being a clean fighter,” she said.
I preheated the oven to 375 and then went back to the counter and bent down, grabbing a mixing bowl from one of the drawers. “Yeah, not many guys are, in the underground leagues.”
“Then why don’t you do one of the bigger leagues? UFC or something? I saw your moves, you’re pretty good.”
I shook my head. “I wish. Those are for guys whose can dedicate their lives to the sport. I can’t. I wish I could. I love it. I really do love the fight, but I have other responsibilities.”
“Oh, I see.” She nodded as if she understood exactly what I was saying. That or she just didn’t want to pry.
I handed her the ricotta cheese. “Crack an egg and pour it in the bowl, then mix it together with this and the mozzarella.”
“And what are you going to do?” She raised her eyebrows as she opened the container of cheese.
“Be the teacher. You can’t learn if I do it for you.”
“I thought you were cooking for me.” She pressed her lips together.
“Fine, we’ll cook together then.” I grabbed the jar of sauce and opened it, spreading a thin layer on the bottom of the glass pan.
“That sauce smells really good.” She leaned over the pan after pouring the last of the mozzarella into the bowl.
“Do you want to try some? My uncle Guido makes this sugo at his restaurant.”
“Sugo?” she asked?
I dipped my finger into the jar. “Yeah, or spaghetti sauce as you medigans call it.”
“Medigan? Now you’re calling me names?” She widened her eyes, but I knew she wasn’t offended because she was still smiling.
I put my finger to her lips and she wrapped them around my finger, softly sucking the sugo off it. The feeling instantly made my dick hard and I had to force myself to pull away and not kiss her. “No name calling. It’s just a word for non-Italians,” I whispered.
“I guess that’s not so bad then.” She licked her lips. “And neither is your sugo. Are you going to give me another taste?”
I shook my head. “Nope, you need to finish cooking first. Set the noodles over the sugo in the pan and then we’ll spread the cheese on that before we cook the sausage.”
“You’re a little bossy, you know that?”
I turned toward the stove, grabbing a pan from the rack. “Yeah, but not in a bad way.”
“I guess not.”
She didn’t respond for a while and I wondered if I’d offended her. When I grabbed the sausage I noticed she was trying to pour the cheese mixture out of the mixing bowl and cursing under her breath.
I shook my head and laughed be
fore I approached her. “I don’t think that’s the best way to do it.”
She set the bowl down. “Fine, then show me the right way, Mr. Smartass teacher.”
I grabbed a spatula from the crock near the stove and stood behind her, wrapping my arms around hers and holding onto her wrist. “Using a spatula to spoon it on is usually the best way,” I whispered and handed her the spatula.
I guided her hand into the bowl, tilting it over the pan and then helped her scoop the cheese mixture with the spatula onto the noodles. “Then you spread it over the noodles, like this.” I moved her wrist over the mixture, smoothing the cheese over the noodles. My breath was against her cheek and I could feel my own heart beating hard against her. Being so close, all I wanted was to kiss her, feel the supple curves of her body and say forget the lasagna and just have her. But I wasn’t going to be that guy.
“Did I do it right?” she asked, her words breathy.
“I don’t think you could ever do anything wrong.”
She dropped the spatula in the bowl and turned around until she was facing me, her chest pressed against mine. “Why do you care so much about me? You seem to be doing a lot of work after you’ve already fucked me.”
“Wow, that was pretty blunt.”
She laughed. “I’m not exactly one to tiptoe around the issues. I just want to know the truth. I want to know what’s going on. Why me? There has to be a reason.”
I set my hands on either side of the counter behind her, leaning in so my lips were just a few inches above hers. “Because not only are you one of the sexiest women I’ve ever seen in my life, but you had me the moment I saw you.” I exhaled a deep breath through my nose. It was time for some honesty with her. Maybe not the whole truth, but at least part of it. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about the night I first met you. I actually first saw you when you were fighting with your ex in the back alley. I heard and saw the whole fight and I couldn’t believe someone would do that to someone as beautiful as you.” I lifted my hand up, running it along her cheek. “When you ran away from him, I followed you to make sure you were okay and that’s when I hit your bike. I didn’t mean to and the guilt hit me so damn hard, I felt like a fucking monster. I had to make it up to you.”
