Accidental Witness

by Sam Mariano

Releasing his hold on me, he takes the gaping edges of the fabric and slides it off my shoulders, down over my arms, and the dress falls to the floor. I try not to feel self-conscious that I’m standing there in nothing but a lacy black bra and a pair of (not matching) black panties, but there’s no time for that, because then he’s reaching around my back again, unhooking the clasp.

  I let out a shaky breath as he tugs that down my arms, too. As he tugs it off, drops it to the ground, and just looks at me.

  It’s not fair that he’s still fully dressed, so I grab at the hem of his T-shirt, tugging it upward. He takes the hint, reaching behind his neck and tugging it off. He drops it in the floor along with my clothes, but he’s not as self-conscious about it.

  “Have you…had sex before?” I ask, feeling my face warm as I ask.

  He nods.

  I figured, but I still feel awkward hearing it. “I haven’t.”

  A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I know.”

  Instead of discussing it further, he kisses me. It feels different skin to skin, somehow even more intimate as my breasts press against his warm skin. My nerve endings come alive as his fingertips skim my bare sides, and the throbbing between my legs begins anew.

  He pulls away a moment later, unfastening the button of his jeans. I swallow hard as he slips out of them, and I climb on the bed, sitting back on my heels, uncertain.

  Then Vince is on the bed with me, and I’m relieved we were too busy kissing to turn the light on. He takes my hands and tugs me close, and then he kisses me again. He keeps holding one of my hands, but he drops the other and lets his hand drift down between my legs. My knees spread a little wider as he breaches my entrance, and I gasp against his mouth when he suddenly rubs my unprepared clit. Pleasure shoots through me, and it runs over me like a steady stream as he continues to play with me, never breaking our kiss.

  It’s pandemonium in my body as I try to keep pace kissing him, but I keep breaking away, closing my eyes, riding the wave of pleasure moving through my body. Everything tightens and I can’t do it anymore; I can’t focus on kissing, and he doesn’t make me. He uses his free hand to gently push me back and I follow his lead, lying down and spreading my legs for him.

  It hits hard and I cry out, my body arching up off the bed as ecstasy shoots through me.

  I collapse against the bed, breathing heavy. Vince moves between my legs, tugging my panties all the way off. He’s still in his boxers, but the way his eyes are devouring me, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to be.

  “Do you have a condom?” I ask.

  Relief shows on his face before he can wipe it away, and I can’t help but smile as he hops off the bed to retrieve it.

  I allow myself a moment of anxiety while he prepares. I’m still not sure I’m ready, but I don’t know if I ever will be with him. There’s no point tormenting both of us for some arbitrary period of time, knowing he may never be able to offer me the security I would want to actually do this. If I’m going to do it anyway, and I’m pretty sure I am, it may as well be now.

  Climbing back on the bed, he moves between my legs. His hands run over the outside of my thighs and he looks me in the eye. “You’re sure?”

  I nod, as sure as I probably ever will be.

  He leans down and kisses me again, his hand moving between my legs again. This time he isn’t there to toy with me for pleasure, but to prepare my body for invasion. The kisses help ease my nerves—just light, sweet kisses. Eventually they change, become more demanding. He draws me into the excitement as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, filling me with a hit of that yearning I felt the first time.

  He withdraws his fingers and a moment later I feel the head of his dick push against me. I suck in a breath and let it out, too distracted to keep kissing. I grasp his shoulders as he comes down on top of me, easing inside of me. I shift, already uncomfortable, and he pauses.

  “You okay?” he asks, low and husky.

  “Mmhmm,” I murmur, but I’m tense as hell.

  “Relax,” he whispers, not moving any deeper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I try to relax, but it’s not an easy thing to do. A few steady breaths later and he pushes a little more of himself inside me. Experimentally, I wrap my legs around him, opening up my hips a little more. He slides an inch deeper and there’s pain, but I bury my face in his shoulder so he won’t see if he pulls back to look at me. “It’s okay,” I murmur, despite the noises I can’t stop making. Instead of pushing any harder, he pulls back. I think he’s going to stop, but then he pushes back in, that time pushing all the way inside of me.

  “Ouch, goddamn it,” I say through clenched teeth, making truly ugly faces against his shoulder. I’m really glad he can’t see them.

  “Are you okay?” he asks again.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell him, despite my body’s insistence otherwise.

  He tries to go easy on me, moving slowly for a few minutes, but it’s still uncomfortably tight when he pushes inside me. Eventually my body adjusts to the invasion, and I realize it’s starting to feel better. Noticing, he picks up the pace, and then it starts to feel even better than before.

  When he really gets going, my breath hitches. I try to find a perfect rhythm with him, but I’m a little off. It’s okay, it still feels great, and I can tell he agrees. I love the look on his face, the pleasure, knowing he’s getting it from me. From my body.

  I feel that pressure starting to build, promising me a pleasurable payout, but I don’t quite make it, because he gets there first. A guttural groan escapes him and his body goes rigid. I try to clench him with my feminine muscles and he groans again before collapsing against me.

  I wrap my arms around him and let him settle into the crook of my neck, sated. I don’t even mind the weight of his body crushing mine. I feel like I swallowed sunshine, all warm and toasty and… lovey. I know it’s just afterglow, but I don’t care; I’m going to enjoy it.

  Eventually, he rolls off me, reaching for the box of tissues on my nightstand. Once he’s cleaned up, he rolls back over and pulls me into his arms. It feels like heaven.

  Lying in his arms, watching the rise and fall of his chest, I’ve never felt so at peace.

  “You okay?” he asks me.

  Smiling up at him, I assure him, “I’m great.”

  “Good,” he says, leaning in to give me a soft little kiss.

  I wish we could stay like this forever. I know we can’t, but looking into his eyes, I vow to enjoy every second I can. Maybe it won’t last forever, maybe it won’t be normal, but whatever it is, it’ll be ours. Right now, that seems like enough.

  Chapter Ten

  Most Mondays aren’t much to look forward to, but as I stand in the hall crowded with parents waiting for their kids, I wish Allan would hurry the hell up so I can drop him off and hustle over to the bakery for my first day of work.

  I can’t help smiling, wondering what it will be like. Aside from babysitting—which I’ve seldom been paid for—this will be my first job ever. And I’ll get a chance to develop at least a working relationship with one of Vince’s family members.

  As I rock forward on my toes, I somehow bump into the man next to me.

  “Oh, sorry,” he says.

  I flash a wordless smile, unconcerned. I glance down the hall again. I know class hasn’t let out yet, but it will any minute.

  I feel the man’s eyes still on me, and I glance back at him. I cut my eyes away quickly, since he catches me looking, but out of the corner of my eyes, I see him still watching me.

  I frown at him that time.

  He glances to his left, then his right, casually, but I notice. Then he leans slightly closer to me. “Mia?”

  My heart about stops. I’ve picked the kids up many times before and I recognize many of the parents here—but not him. He’s tall with nice blue eyes, a Clark Kent jawline, and dark hair. He has a trustworthy face, but he shouldn’t know my name, so I don’t trust it.

&
nbsp; I decide to move away from him.

  Shouldering past people with the occasional ‘excuse me,’ I make way to a less crowded part of the hall.

  Only, Clark Kent follows me.

  He doesn’t look Italian, but Vince’s words about them having associates they aren’t related to flash across my mind and I’m about three seconds from fleeing the school without my brother.

  I back up, fixing to turn and run down the hall, but the stranger anticipates my move and reaches a strong hand out, grasping me by the wrist.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” he states firmly, his gaze serious.

  My heart hammers inside my chest and I yank my arm. He doesn’t immediately release me, but then he does, glancing around to make sure no one noticed. Apparently satisfied that no soccer mom is quietly calling the police, he comes to stand beside me again.

  “I’m a friend, not a foe,” he says.

  “Who are you?” I ask, trying to still my shaky hands.

  “My name’s Ethan. I’m a private investigator.”

  I frown at that, confused. “A private investigator?”

  “The Morellis didn’t send me,” he reiterates. “I suspect if they sent someone for you, there would be less talking and more bleeding.”

  Well, that’s reassuring. “What do you want?” I ask him.

  “To warn you. I took this assignment because it was supposed to be on the up and up, but you won’t see me again after today. I’m not getting tangled up in this mob bullshit again,” he says, with enough derision that I can finally accept he’s not here on behalf of Mateo Morelli.

  “Warn me about what?”

  “I’ve been on your case for two days, and I already understand how Vince met you.” He pauses, letting that land. “If Mateo takes an interest in looking into you, how long do you think it will take before he figures out where you live?”

  I look at him, suspecting I know where he’s going with this, but looking for verification.

  Looking regretful, he says, “And how long after that do you think it will take before he sends someone to tie up this loose end?”

  “But I’m not…. I wouldn’t…I’m not a loose end.”

  “He won’t believe that.”

  “But it’s true!”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Shoving his hands into his pocket with a neutral expression, he looks like we’re discussing the weather. “This is the only warning you’re going to get, and if you’re smart, you’ll heed it. End it with Vince immediately. He’s not like the older ones; he won’t punish you for leaving him—at this point, at least. Walk away, don’t look back. Don’t go to the bakery after you leave here, don’t get entangled with them at all. Give Mateo Morelli no reason to look twice at you, because if he does…” He trails off, shaking his head. “It won’t end well for you.”

  He glances at me one last time, then he makes like he’s walking to a different part of the hall, but slips out the exit doors instead.

  What the fuck just happened?

  I pull out my phone, hands still shaking. Vince finally gave me his phone number after we had sex, and as I dial the number for the first time, I can’t believe this is why.

  “Hey, you,” he greets, almost brightly.

  “Vince? I need to talk to you. Can you meet me somewhere?”

  “Right now?” he asks, understandably surprised.

  “I have to drop Allan off at my house first, but could you meet me right after that?”

  “I’m kind of in the middle of something. Can it wait?”

  I hesitate, glancing at the doors the man left through. “I don’t think it can.”

  ---

  My heart feels pulled in a hundred different directions when I see Vince emerge from his car, slamming the door shut. He spots me immediately and heads my way, a look of concern on his handsome face.

  Hands shoved into his pockets, he asks, “What’s going on?”

  I told him nothing on the phone, paranoid that somehow someone would hear. Logically, I realize it’s usually the feds who would listen in on a tap, not the bad guys, but I’m too nervous to take even a single chance at this point.

  “There was a man at Allan’s school today.”

  Vince scowls. “What do you mean, a man?”

  “A man. A private investigator. He was looking into me.”

  Vince’s face goes white, and my fear morphs into something darker.

  I’m quick to assure him, “He wasn’t—your cousin didn’t send him. He wasn’t from your family.”

  “How do you know?” he asks, still pale.

  “He—I don’t know for sure who sent him, but he said he was a friend, not a foe, and—and he warned me. From what I’ve heard, I don’t think Mateo would warn me away.” I pause, glancing down at my feet, then back to him. “Especially because he figured out what I know. Based on where I live, and….”

  “He knows you saw me,” he reiterates, but more to himself than me.

  “Not Mateo—this guy. But he pointed out that if he could make that connection in two days… so could Mateo, if it occurred to him to look.”

  “Son of a bitch. Who would sic a PI on you? That doesn’t make sense.”

  Obviously, I’ve thought about that pretty thoroughly since that moment happened. I duck my head, unsure how this is going to go over. “There’s only one, maybe two things I can think of. The other day after school, your friend Cherie approached me. And she took me for cupcakes.”

  Vince’s eyes close, a look of fury passing over his features.

  I go on, anyway. “I didn’t see any guys, but I met Francesca. And she asked for my name, and… the timeline would make sense. If he’s been looking into me for two days…that was three days ago.”

  “Francesca wouldn’t sell me out to Mateo,” he says, shaking his head.

  “I don’t think she did,” I say quickly. “But I don’t know what you’ve told her about me. I know she referred to me as ‘Vince’s Mia’ when Cherie introduced me, and she seemed about as paranoid regarding Mateo as you, so maybe she just wanted to see what would turn up?”

  Eyes closed, Vince turns away from me, cursing at the wind. I know it’s a crazy thing to absorb, so I try to give him time. I still feel like I’m going a little crazy with worry, and the paranoia is already wearing on me. I can’t imagine having to live like this, the way Vince seems to.

  He doesn’t turn back around though, and after a few minutes, I approach him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He still doesn’t turn, so I lean my face against his back.

  “What do we do?” I ask, quietly.

  His silence stretches on, seemingly forever, before he finally turns back to face me. When he does, the look on his face makes me sick to my stomach.

  “We can’t see each other anymore.”

  Shaking my head in denial, I say, “No. No, that can’t… that can’t be the only way.”

  “It is. I never should’ve gotten involved with you to begin with. I put you at risk, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you because of me.”

  Clutching the front of his shirt, I shake my head again. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. Listen, what if we got ahead of this? It seems like right now the worst part is the waiting game—will he somehow notice me, or won’t he? If he does, sure, we’re probably screwed, so why don’t we take that possibility off the table? What if we take it to him? What if we stop waiting?”

  “No,” Vince says, looking at me like I just suggested we summon the devil to offer him a cup of tea. “No, Mia. Trust me… That is not an option.”

  “But why? Isn’t it more suspicious if we try to cover it up? Isn’t honesty the best policy? I want to be with you, I’m not going to tell. I’d be hurting myself as much as you at this point, and if we just explained that to him—”

  “He won’t believe it, Mia.”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?” I demand, stomping my foot in frustration.

  “Because we know
him. You don’t. You can’t fix this, Mia. Mateo doesn’t believe in loyalty, he doesn’t trust people—he doesn’t trust people he’s related to, he sure as fuck isn’t going to trust some random high school girl!”

  I balk at being labeled so dismissively, but I don’t bother mentioning it. “But we have to try!”

  “No, we don’t,” he says, defeated. “There is no trying. There are no second chances. I take this to him, I tell him you were a witness, that’s it. There’s no taking that back.”

  “But maybe he would surprise you. Maybe he would—”

  “He wouldn’t.”

  Frustrated by his obstinacy, I argue, “You can’t know what he’ll do.”

  He shakes his head. “I know the odds, and I won’t take that chance. I won’t gamble with your life.”

  I shake my head, refusing to accept that. “This can’t be… This isn’t fair.”

  He sighs, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close. I throw both arms around him, clinging to him like I can change his mind through sheer force. “I’m so sorry, Mia,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against my forehead.

  I don’t want him to be sorry. I want him to be braver. Nobody wants to believe me, but I just can’t imagine someone being so unbending, so unreasonable. What if he’s wrong about how his cousin would react? What if it would be okay?

  So many thoughts are swirling through my head, stitched together with sadness. It seemed like just a minute ago I was wrapped in his arms in my bed, my skin against his, our bodies entwined. I knew it probably wouldn’t last forever, but I thought it would last longer than this.

  Vince pulls back, but it takes a few minutes. The look on his face hurts my heart and infuriates the part of me that wants to keep fighting, confident this is a fight we could win. We’ll never know if it would’ve worked, because he’s too damn afraid.

  “So this is it?” I ask, wrapping my arms around myself. “I don’t get to see you again?”

  “We’ll pass each other in the halls,” he says, with a sad attempt at a smile.

  Despondency wallops me and I shake my head. “I don’t want this.”