by S. W. Frank
A muscle protruded from his cheek. The clenched mandible contained the anger. His teeth ground together in an effort to keep from speaking his basest thoughts in the presence of his children. Lou or whoever he worked for threatened her life. Damn right, he was okay with what he’d done and he’d do it again and again until the bodies were piled high on Satan’s door. “I’m good, babe. How about you?”
She sat regally stiff. Alfonzo would not have sanctioned Lou’s death unless he committed an unpardonable infraction. Her husband possessed a heart. Without question she eased his concern. “You have my unwavering support. Mi corazón late al unísono con mi amor.”
Sal suddenly snickered. His mom and dad were a trip. They were always so lovey-dovey. If they kept it up, he was certain to have another brother or sister. He knew what adults did. They had sex. Yuck. “OMG, mom!”
Alfonzo smirked and mushed his son’s head down to his knees and held it there. “Be quiet. I liked it. Your mom’s heart beating in unison with mine is pretty cool, hijo. When you grow up, you’ll understand,” he said as he leaned over the boy’s bent spine to give Selange a hearty kiss. Only when he finished tasting her lips did he set Sal free.
“Ah dad, c’mon you made me lose. I was on the hardest level, ah man!”
~
The night began to relinquish its hold to morning when Giuseppe stepped through the door of what he once considered his bachelor domain. The home was quiet, as it should be and the interior lights were off. His former haven housed a baby and its mother who transformed the interior with womanly furnishings and toys.
When he invited Shanda to stay he didn’t fully understand he would need to share private spaces, or feel guilt when he partook in scurrilous activities. An unmarried man is autonomous and Giuseppe refused to answer to any woman. He was a Don, a leader of men, whose power extended to his house.
There were moments of pure happiness, yes; he thoroughly enjoyed having a woman cook, a baby and nights wrapped in a sexy donna’s arms. But, he needed air or he’d suffocate to death from the illusionary arrangement which resembled a husband, baby and wife.
Last night he’d visited Alanda, simply for a change of scenery. He had to prove Giuseppe remained Giuseppe. The donna who bore his child had opened emotions he preferred to keep locked. The woman would never break him open. Oh, such pitiful creatures were those wounded victims cut by love’s serrated blade.
Giuseppe blew on his hand, sniffed his breath and then his armpits. He scoffed at the self-conscious action and chastised himself for caring. Angry with the unforeseen consequences of cohabitation with a prima donna he grumbled. “Cazzo. She does not own me!”
He kicked out of his shoes near the door, walked as quietly as his weight allowed to peek in on Carlo. The spare bedroom had become the nursery and the stuffed animals in every corner were presents from family and friends who doted on the bambino like the prince he was. The baby slept with a smile. A handsome boy with his father’s features and his mother’s mouth.
Giuseppe touched his son’s small toes with his finger. “You little one are my new life. I will bleed and die for you e tua madre. Sangue di mio padre, I give you a father’s oath.” The infant did not stir. Giuseppe smirked. “Sí you are my son. We cherish our sleep.”
He walked from the room, leaving the door slightly ajar and went to his bedroom. He had expected to find Shanda asleep; instead she sat there on the bed looking sexy and angry clutching an eight by ten paper in her hand.
“Buongiorno,” he said casually as he unbuttoned his shirt.
“Yeah whatever, same to you.”
“Is there something on your mind, bella?”
Shanda nodded. “This.”
Giuseppe squinted. He could not read the paper from the distance. “Che cosa è che la carta?”
“Are you being funny, did I suddenly learn Italian and didn’t know it?”
He smiled. He enjoyed her sharp wit. “You are in a land where Italian is the language. It would benefit you to learn, no?”
“No,” she quipped. “English is my primary language and you speak it well. So, don’t act like those people who try to avoid answering questions when they’re put on the spot by reverting to their native tongue. Suddenly nobody understands English, then!”
“I am tired. Read it to me.”
“It’s our son’s birth certificate. It came yesterday.”
“Oh, that is what that is.”
He had his shirt off and worked to loosen his belt buckle. Shanda tried not to let the sight of his muscular torso lead her astray. The man-whore was undoubtedly with a woman last night. She didn’t bother to call him. They weren’t married. This was an arrangement strictly for their son. She’d thought he’d have some damn respect though and not fuck her one minute and someone else the next. She would make him wear condoms if they hooked up again, that’s if she let him sniff her panties after this stunt.
“When did we get married and my name became Mrs. I Don’t Have Say in Shit Dichenzo?”
“I thought you said that is a birth certificate, but now you speak marriage. Which is it, birth certificate or a marriage license, bella?”
“Don’t play around. Why is Carlo’s surname Dichenzo, when did you do this?”
“At the hospital,” he said calmly. He removed his trousers, followed by the tight boxers and settled butt naked in bed.
She turned on her side to face the delicious beefcake. She wanted to slap his fine ass face for being such a slut; instead decided two can play the game of detachment. “When?”
“When I thought you were bleeding to death from your micio. We agreed to name the bambino Carlo Giuseppe, did we not, femmina?”
“I don’t have a problem with Carlo Giuseppe; it’s the last name I take issue with.”
He casually put an arm over his head and his expression was questioning. “I am confused.”
“Where I’m from it’s the mother’s surname that’s recorded if she isn’t married. He’s a Johnson!”
“No, he’s a Dichenzo.”
“You can’t claim rights to the baby.”
“Bella, I claim anything I want. Carlo is my son. He’s a Dichenzo and is Giacanti by blood. Johnson is not the name my bambino will carry. Now sleep, I need silence.”
A hissing noise emanated from Shanda’s mouth. “Did you tell me to be quiet?”
“Sí.”
Shanda couldn’t believe it. He closed his eyes. The smug sonovabitch thought he had the last word. Oh, hell no!
Shanda slapped his chest with the palm of her hand right on his nipple, like she often did to her brother growing up. When you do it a certain way it stings. Men are sensitive there. Those eyes flew open then. “I’m changing the birth certificate,” she said.
“Do not talk like an ass,” Giuseppe responded furiously. “It is done!”
“What did you call me?”
“Un asino, mulo. In English –ass!”
Shanda blinked. The fire contained all night erupted. She leapt from the bed. “Deals off. I’m leaving. You don’t talk to me like that. Who do you think you’re talking to you man-slut?”
Giuseppe didn’t move. Instead he watched her traipse to the walk-in closet and start pulling her clothes off the racks and attempt to stuff them in a small suitcase. He grinned, because the items didn’t fit and she stood there with her hands on her hips not willing to leave without her designer clothes she recently purchased on his card. “You need a larger suitcase, bella,” he suggested.
Shanda turned on him. “Shut the hell up!”
“I am trying to help you exit, if that’s what you really want to do.”
She scowled. “Everything is not a joke.”
“Come here, Shanda.”
“No!”
He climbed out of bed and walked to the entry and leaned against the doorframe. Amusement danced across his f
ace at her theatric display simply because he said he needed silence to sleep. It was true. Still, he wasn’t a fool. Shanda’s outburst was not over a document. The donna was upset because he had not come home last night. That too is the truth. It’s evident by her enticing lingerie she eagerly awaited his return; unfortunately, he ruined it by failing to appear. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was upset and hurt. Perhaps, he should have considered her feelings. “I should not have called you an ass. I apologize.”
Shanda crossed her arms over her lace covered breasts. “You’re damn right.”
“I do not want you to go. Stay.”
“You’re lying. The only reason you want me here is to be near the baby.”
“That is not entirely correct. I have grown fond of you, too donna.”
“Yeah right. If you were you wouldn’t be out fucking other women now would you?”
“I am not your husband. This is an arrangement, remember?”
She sucked in her breath. “You asked me to come.”
“Sí, I did.”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“I don’t know what it is you want. I bought you a very nice car. You have an expense account…donna...tell me what more can I give?”
When he talked like that she felt like trash. “You know good and damn well I’m not here for a car or your fucking money you sonovabitch!”
“Tell me why you are here Shanda?” Giuseppe stood in front of her and removed her arms from her breasts. He wanted to see them; they were scrumptious. She was beautiful and his arousal came instantly. His finger traced the edge of her brassiere, touching skin as it traversed each breast. His eyes were on her face and he noticed desire. Despite her anger, she could not disguise the sexual attraction. “What will keep you at my side, daughter of the polizei?”
Shanda was about to speak but his mouth covered her lips and nostrils. She inhaled trying to breathe as he sucked the air from her lungs. She clung to his strong neck when he picked her up and carried her toward the bed. His mouth consumed her, called her out and forced an unspoken confession. Shanda wanted more and felt like such a wanton hypocrite for making resolutions she knew good and damn well she couldn’t keep. When her head touched the bed, his body crushed her to the mattress and her nostrils flared at the faint odor of a woman’s expensive perfume. Suddenly, Shanda found her dignity and pushed at his heavy chest. He didn’t budge and she bit his mouthwash tasting tongue.
Giuseppe groaned like an animal. He nibbled her lip mumbling, “You want rough?”
“No, I want you to stop!” she said and bit him harder.
This time he jerked away, holding his mouth open for air as a result of the pain. “You do not want my apology?”
“You don’t get to jump out of another woman’s bed into mine.”
“Technically, this is my bed,” he answered before gently touching his sore tongue to the roof of his gums.
Did he taste blood? Yes, his tongue bled.
“Oh shut up.”
“You get upset when I say silence but you say shut-up twice and bite.” He seized her arms. His face hovered close to Shanda’s defiant one. He may have laughed if she did not look so serious. But he laid down one rule. “Never strike me in anger, capisce?”
Shanda exhaled. She wasn’t afraid of him. “Okay, I’ll strike you when I’m not angry with a frying pan.”
“Never threaten donna. I strike with triple force.”
“So you beat women?”
“Only when they’re naughty.”
His eyes were mischievous. He always had the same look when he wanted to fuck. Except this morning she wasn’t having it. His charm didn’t work. “Did you wear a rubber when you stuck your dick in another woman’s micio?”
His hands relaxed their hold. They were fighting the same beast. But, Giuseppe would not show his hand, once he did she‘d wield her power and he’d become unable to ward off love’s blows. No, he would stand firm. He wanted her to stay, yet she had to accept who he was. He sighed, he hadn’t done anything terrible. He was after-all unmarried.
Besides, Alanda had her menstruation which happened to be a major turn-off for Giuseppe. He never stuck his dick in bloody micio. But, that did not mean Alanda could not please him in other ways. He responded truthfully, “No, I did not wear a rubber, donna, is it a law, because I do not follow the law?”
“Youdog!” She growled.
Suddenly, the baby began to cry. The dog joined in with loud barks which cut their conversation right there. They were simultaneously on their feet in a sprint, one half-clothed and the other naked in a race through the hall. They tried to enter the nursery together and found themselves wedged hip to waist in the doorway.
“I have the bambino,” Giuseppe stated to the mother.
“That’s okay, thanks but mama got this big papa.”
They must’ve looked a frightening sight to the baby because the infant wailed pitifully as Gee barked at their heels. Shanda scraped her arm on the door frame to get loose, but Giuseppe managed to get free first. It took four long strides for Giuseppe to reach the crib and it took Shanda eight.
He claimed possession of the baby and rocked the boy in his arms in consolation. “Do not cry, papa is home.”
The man was stark naked. Carlo didn’t want meaningless talk, he wanted goddamn milk. She looked up from Giuseppe’s private parts to the dark Sicilian’s ocean colored eyes. “I have to feed him Giuseppe, now give him here and take a shower. There’s no telling where your nasty ass fingers were and I don’t want Carlo contaminated.”
The blue eyes sparkled. “Your mama is jealous.”
“I am not. Give me my baby,” she fumed and thrust out her arms for her son.
“First say you will stay.”
“No. Now stop playing around, give me Carlo!”
“Then I will hold him until you promise not to go.”
“Your arms are going to fall off, then.”
Giuseppe feigned a pout to mimic Shanda’s petulant face. Was she on the verge of tears? “Ah, my bella cries.”
Shanda crossed her arms. “This isn’t funny. You’re using our son to blackmail me.”
This he found hilarious and gave her the baby. He missed Shanda’s sly grin once he put the infant in her arms. “Please take the baby, feed him and do not shed waterfalls.”
“Thank you,” she replied as she put the hungry infant to her breast.
Giuseppe made sucking noises with his mouth as she walked to her soft seat to continue feeding. He stopped when Shanda flashed him an angry look. “Who’s being an ass now Geo?”
He chuckled. The woman was growing on him every day. Watching her breastfeed made him want milk, too. But, he would wait. He walked over and kneeled. “Promise you’ll stay bella and not run again.”
“You can see the baby any time you want if I move out. We don’t have to live together to raise Carlo. Besides, it’s apparent I’m cramping your style?”
“I like your company.”
“Keep Gee, he likes you.”
“I like your food.”
“Hire a whore who likes to cook.”
“I like Shanda.”
“I don’t like being treated like a fool or a slut.”
“You are far from a fool or slut, bella.”
“It’s what you’re playing me for if you believe you’re going to screw me and other women. I’m monogamous and you’re promiscuous.”
“That’s a lot of ‘ous’,” he said trying to lighten the mood. She didn’t smile. “I am who I am. I did not lie to you.”
She readjusted the infant’s head and his eyes went to the exposed mound of flesh as Carlo suckled. The horny man actually looked jealous of his son. Shanda rolled her eyes. Men!
Giuseppe rubbed his chin, contemplating the right words to say to convince the sexy woman to remain. “I am more than a sperm donor. I am a father who loves his son. You have given me a special gift and just as you bond
with him, I also want time with Carlo, under the same roof and with his mother. It is preferable this way in order for me to adequately protect you. Do not allow anger to deprive me of seeing Carlo every day and teaching him what my father has taught me as he grows. I will give you money to buy anything you want if you stay.”
Shanda rolled her eyes, again at the sorry plea. He wanted to bond with Carlo, fine. However, their sexual bonding had come to an end. The coochie store had closed its doors to the pussy stealing Giuseppe. “Fine, I’ll stay a little longer but here are my rules: one, you can’t bring women to this house for sex or sleep overs, two, just like you have your independence, I have mine, three, you have to get a nice comfy bed in here for me and four, the micio shop is closed. I don’t want any killer disease from your stink ass. Carlo needs at least one of his parents around, capisce?”
Giuseppe frowned. What? Had she gone insane? Her demands were unreasonable. How could he live under the same roof with her and not touch her intimately. Dumbfounded he bellowed, “Cosa?”
“You heard me. No more pussy from this hole. Don’t forget, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”
“Cosa. That is blackmail. You fight with claws to kill me. Cosa?”
“Stop saying cosa. Those are my terms. Agree or I leave!”
Giuseppe grumbled and rose to his feet. He had not expected this arrangement to give him heart palpitations. Usually, women wanted to sleep in his bed, this woman wanted out of it. He could live with some of the terms, but the no micio rule was hard to swallow. Ah, cazzo!
He would agree. What choice did he have? Of course, he planned to change her mind. “I agree. I will have the bed in before notte!” he said crossly before marching from the baby’s room and slamming the door.
