Reno’s heart raced when her juicy brown melons bounced on exposure. And her body, flat where it should be flat and curved where it should be curved, made him grab her tightly in his arms.
He wrapped her in his arms as he kissed and sucked her breasts, from one to the other to both at once. He couldn’t stop teasing and licking and biting her nipples. He moved up, to her lips again, and began kissing her with long, passionate kisses, while his hands fondled, squeezed, caressed those breasts. His penis was throbbing as he kissed her, as it jutted out straighter and stiffer against the seam of her bikini panties.
Trina, too, was enthralled with his lips, unable to stop returning his kisses. She wrapped her arms around his muscular body and became so caught up in the pressure of his lips, the expert glide of his tongue, that she did not realize he had lifted her slightly and completely removed her dress and panties, until he opened her legs and his fingers slowly slid into her.
Oh, Reno, she said lustfully as he fingered her; as he continued to kiss her lips, to fondle one of her breast, and moisten her womanhood for what she knew would soon be an incredible entry.
Reno could hardly contain his anticipation as his fingers lapped around her folds and softened every inch of her receptacle. She was so small, still the tightest pussy he’d ever felt, and he was so large and so stiff that he knew this was going to be, as it used to always be whenever he entered her, a fuck he would not soon forget.
And the mere thought of it, of the tightness, of the moisture, of this sweet, gorgeous woman right within his grasp, caused him to leave her mouth and move down between her legs. He had to taste it. He had to feel and smell and experience it.
Trina leaned back on her elbows when he took her feet, sat them on the edge of the bed, her legs still wide open, as his mouth made its way between those legs. She closed her eyes in the sheer pleasure of his tongue gliding along her clit, fondling it slowly and rapidly and slowly again. And then he slipped along her folds with the kind of slow, precision swipes that caused her hips to arch up and thrust herself into his face, as the feeling intensified.
She wanted more of that intensity, and he gave her more, and more, and more, until she was sliding down. Her body was almost uncontrollable as his tongue caused her entire being to convulse and buckle in that rarified moment of gratification she hadn’t felt in such a very long time.
And even after he finally stopped, and stood up, and she could see her husband at his absolute barest, this specimen of a man in full, she was still feeling the ripples of that tongue-lashing he’d just given to her.
Reno couldn’t believe how wonderful it felt to be this intimate with his wife again. He dreamed about her when he was away, every single night he dreamed of this beautiful woman. And now he had her back. A sadness came over him as the past attempted to capture his imagination again and make him feel selfish for wanting to be with her so badly, but he dismissed it. They were in this together, for better or worse, in sickness and in health. To hell, he said to himself, with that hellish past.
After jacking on his massive rod, stiffening it even more, he stood in front of Trina, lifting her legs onto the side of each of his muscular thighs, spreading them as wide as she could bear, and then slowly but firmly slipping his rod inside of her moist folds.
There was a collective exhale for both of them when he entered her. There was a kind of everything they expected and more feeling when his manhood met her womanhood and her walls collapsed around him so tightly that sliding further and further in was almost difficult. And that very tightness gave them a wondrously sensual high.
They stayed in elevation as he made love to her. His rod slid in, almost out, back in again with such a rhythm, with such a long, smooth sail that it lulled them into a kind of tender relaxation that had every muscle in their bodies feeling the heat.
Reno felt energized as he made love to her. He could hardly believe how good it felt. He looked down as his rod moved in and out of the most important human being on the face of this earth, the woman he loved more than life itself, and he felt so unworthy, and so fortunate, that he almost wanted to cry.
He stared at her as he screwed her. Her eyes were closed, her head was moving in rhythm with his every stroke. Her gorgeous African lips were parted, revealing a small, pink tongue lapped over her bottom lip, and her breasts were bouncing in a continual crescendo as his rhythm began to increase.
As the intensity increased he moved her further onto the bed and got on top of her, his thrusts now becoming faster and faster. He grabbed her ass and lifted it even tighter against him as he thrashed into her in even faster thrusts that had them both panting with soft breaths. Her hips were moving too, in perfect circular motions that nearly undid him. They were fucking unlike they had ever fucked before; as if they still had points to prove; as if they were determined to make this coupling the best they’d ever had.
And when it finally happened, when he had slid in and almost out, in and almost out, in a pace so frenetic that his ass, thighs and even arms shook, he felt the pressure point. And then he thrashed into her as far as he could go, until his swollen balls were jammed against the outer ridge of her vagina, and he released in a hard gush. She climaxed in a wave of contractions. And the combining of those singular acts caused both bodies to strain in an arching that shattered their separateness and made them, for this moment in time, indistinguishably one.
When they came back down to earth, when their arching bodies fell back down on the bed, Reno looked at Trina, and Trina looked at Reno, as if neither could believe what had actually occurred.
For Trina it wasn’t just that it was great sex. She hadn’t had any in so long that any sex from Reno would have been good to her. But it was the connection that floored her. It was as if a part of her essence, a part of her very core, leaped out of her and into him.
For Reno, it was the connection too. The sex was wonderful. Trina was so tight and sweet and fit him so perfectly that he’d never had such a magnificent joining. But it was beyond the sex. Well beyond it. It was as if this woman, this beautiful woman he loved so much, had demonstrated in her lovemaking that he was back and that she wanted him back, no matter what. He had never felt more love, more protectiveness, more possessiveness, for any other human being alive. And it left him reeling.
He was so thrown, in fact, that he moved off of her and laid on his back, his chest heaving in and out, his eyes wide open and staring in enchanted wonder.
“What just happened here, Tree?” he asked her. And then looked at her with bewildered eyes.
Trina looked at him, her eyes as certain as his was uncertain. “We just happened, Reno,” she said without giving it a second thought.
He smiled. It was as simple, as complicated, as earth shattering as that. They just happened. Reno and Trina. He nodded. He understood. And pulled her into his arms.
But even their euphoria, even the feeling that they had finally crossed that Rubicon and were all-in forevermore, could not stave off Reno’s sheer exhaustion.
Within minutes, less than five, he was fast asleep. And was snoring.
Trina smiled, got out of bed - somebody, after all, had to entertain their guests. She stared at him a moment longer, stared at his beautiful physique, at his gorgeous face, at his cascading brown hair as it flopped down along his forehead and caused a man of his unparalleled strength, a man pushing forty, to become vulnerable and boyish-looking. And then she covered up her precious cargo.
The limo came to a screeching halt and Carmine Rossi hurried out. He ran past the waterfalls and colonnade and into the majestic entrance of the PaLargio, the valets and doormen and bellhops all knew him, all speaking to him as he made his way across the lobby and down the long, marbled corridor that led into the elegant, spirited ballroom.
He looked around for Reno. When he didn’t see him he hurried over to Ritchie. Ritchie, a muscular young man who everybody called Dirty, was laughing and drinking with his buddies over by the live band. Dirty was
married to Francine, Reno’s kid sister.
“Yo, Dirt,” Carmine said as he approached. “Where’s Reno?”
“Carmine, where you been?” Dirty asked this in his thick Jersey accent. “Franny said you and MarBeth was coming later, but the party’s almost over.”
“Where’s Reno? You seen Reno?”
“No, I ain’t seen no Reno. I mean yeah, I seen him for a minute, but he left.”
“Left where? Where did he go?”
“How should I know? Reno doesn’t tell me his business. Where you been, that’s what I wanna know?”
Carmine looked passed Dirty, he was getting no-where with that jerk-off. When he saw Trina talking with Belle Gabrini, Reno’s mother and Carmine’s mother-in-law, he hurried for their table.
“Tree, where’s Reno?” he asked as soon as he was upon her. She was seated to the right of Belle, with Francine, Dirty’s wife and Belle’s daughter, to her left. Trina saw the look of terror in Carmine’s earnest face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him.
“It’s---,” he started, shook his head, and then looked at his mother-in-law, who was now looking at him. He smiled, which was always an effort for a tough guy like Carmine. “Hey, Ma Belle,” he said. “How you doing?”
“Which one are you?” Belle asked. With her growing dementia, sometimes she recognized him and the rest of her family, and sometimes, like now, she didn’t.
“That’s Carmine, Ma,” Trina said. “MarBeth’s husband. Your son-in-law.”
“Some son-in-law. Wait till Paulo hears about this.” Paulo Gabrini, Belle’s husband, was dead.
Trina patted Belle’s hand, stood up, and walked away with Carmine away from her earshot.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him again.
“Trouble,” Carmine said, his eyes registering fear and anguished all rolled into one. “I need Reno.”
“What kind of trouble? Mob trouble?”
“I need him, Tree.”
“No, Carmine, no. Reno’s not getting caught up in anymore of that craziness.”
“This can’t be helped.”
“None of it can, that’s the problem. But it has got to be helped this time, Carmine, are you kidding me? That so-called trouble nearly destroyed him last time, and you know it. And now you want to pull him back into that?”
“It’s MarBeth, Tree.”
Trina’s heart pounded. MarBeth Rossi was Reno’s sister and Carmine’s wife. She was also the only one in Reno’s family, other than Trina, willing to stand up to him. “MarBeth?” she asked.
“And it’s bad, Tree,” Carmine said. “Or I wouldn’t be here. It’s bad.”
Trina hated it. She knew Reno was exhausted and needed his rest. She also knew he needed more trouble like he needed a hole in the head. But this was about his sister. Carmine was right. It couldn’t be helped.
She escorted him out of the ballroom, down the quiet corridor, and up to the hotel room she had left less than an hour ago herself. She used her passkey and they entered in.
Reno, as she expected, was still in bed and fast asleep. She hesitated, he so needed his rest, and looked at Carmine.
“It’s vital, Tree,” he said. “It can’t wait.”
Trina exhaled, walked over to her husband, and shook him.
Reno jumped awake, his head and bare shoulders lifting up suddenly, until he realized it was Trina. He laid back down, frowned, and closed his eyes. “Hey, babe,” he said.
“Carmine’s here, Reno,” Trina said, but Reno was snoring again as if he never woke up in the first place. Trina shook him. His eyes reopened.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, what was it?”
“I said Carmine’s here. He needs to talk to you.”
Reno looked past Trina to Carmine, his brother-in-law and many times his right hand man. “What’s up?” he asked him.
“It’s MarBeth, Reno. She’s in trouble.”
Reno stared at him. Carmine was afraid he had fallen back asleep, but Trina knew he was wide awake now. The word trouble always got Reno’s attention.
“What kind of trouble?” he asked his in-law.
Carmine swallowed hard. Didn’t know how to say it, except to just say it. “She killed Vito Giancarlo’s son,” Carmine said and Reno threw the covers off and jumped out of bed, his penis dangling, his nakedness completely forgotten. “She what?” he asked.
Trina, too, was stunned witless. They both stared at Carmine.
“I just found out,” Carmine said, tears staining his lids. “I just found out.”
“What the fuck happened, Carmine? What are you telling me?”
“It’s that element she’s been hanging around.”
Reno frowned. “What element? What are you talking about?”
Trina walked over to the bathroom, grabbed a white terry cloth robe, and came back, listening intensely the entire time.
“It’s that guy,” Carmine was saying. “That Joey Laster.”
“Who the hell’s Joey Laster?”
Carmine and Trina exchanged a glance.
“Well who is he?” Reno asked. Trina helped him put on the robe.
“He’s the guy MarBeth been foolin’ around with,” Carmine said.
Reno was tying the robe, but stopped mid-tie. “Foolin’ around? What you mean ‘fooling around?’ You’re trying to tell me that MarBeth, that my sister, was cheating on you? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Trina could tell that Carmine, a proud man, hated to admit it. But he had to. “Yes,” he said. “And Joey Laster isn’t the first time, either. But that guy, Reno, is a major league fuck-up and I told her that.”
“But you didn’t tell me a damn thing about it,” Reno said angrily.
“You weren’t here, Reno. What was I supposed to do? Call you up? You left us, remember? Didn’t want to have anything more to do with us, remember?”
“That wasn’t the reason, Carmine, and you know it,” Trina said, surprised that he would go there. “Now I know you’re upset, we all are, but you aren’t going to stand up here and put that guilt trip on my husband.”
Carmine settled back down. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just so. . .”
“Tell me what happened,” Reno said, attempting to maintain his cool although his heart was hammering. He left his family for seven months; left them dangling in the wind when he knew they relied on him for practically everything. And he was now just beginning to reap the whirlwind from that horrific past of his that never seemed capable of letting him go.
“Joey Laster is a small time hood who sold drugs over in Newark,” Carmine said. “He and MarBeth hooked up through some friend of hers. By the time I found out, she was already head over heels in love with this guy. Said she’ll leave me if I try to break it up or do any harm whatsoever to her new Casanova.”
Carmine paused. The pain was still too raw.
“So I did nothing,” he said. He saw that look of disapproval in Reno’s eyes. “I didn’t wanna lose my wife, all right? What would you have done?”
Killed the motherfucker, Reno wanted to say. “Just tell me what happened,” he said instead. “What happened that caused my sister to ice the son of Vito Giancarlo, my father’s closest friend and her godfather for crying out loud. I want you to explain that to me.”
Carmine exhaled, felt as if he was near hyperventilation. “Can I sit down?” he asked, and Trina hurried to assist him.
“Please,” she said, pulling the chair out from under the small conference table in the room.
As Carmine sat, Reno started moving around, rubbing his forehead. Please, he was praying, let this be some mistake. Please.
“Want something to drink, Carmine?” Trina asked him.
“No, Tree, thanks. I just been so blown over since MarBeth called me. Cause it was so out of the blue. We had plans. She was to fly down for Ma Belle’s celebration, and I thought she was on her way. I was waiting for her at the compound in Spring Valley so we could drive over and make our appea
rance together. Then she calls and says she’s still in Jersey, tells me what went down. So I just jumped in the limo and got here as fast as I could.”
“What happened?” Reno asked again, this time his voice barely a whisper. “What went down?”
“MarBeth said she was with Joey when he was making a drop.”
“What kind of drop?”
Carmine hesitated. “Drugs, Reno,” he said.
Reno and Trina exchanged glances. Trina had suspected, for some time now, that both Carmine and Dirty had turned to drugs to keep the money flowing the way it used to flow when Reno’s father was alive. Reno didn’t believe it, but Trina always suspected it.
“Go on,” Reno said.
“It was supposed to be a routine drop,” Carmine continued. “In some office building garage somewhere. It went fine she said, Joey and the guy were talking, you know, until the guy pulls out this gun. She says she panicked, knew Joey kept a gun in the glove compartment, so she pulled it out and got out of the car. When the guy put the gun to Joey’s head, she . . .”
Carmine looked at Reno as tears appeared in Carmine’s bloodshot eyes. “She fired, Reno. Three shots she think, but maybe more, killed him dead on the spot. Joey started yelling, saying, ‘what have you done,’ and then he jumped in the car, screamed for her to get in, and they took off. There was another guy there but he seemed too stunned to react fast enough. She didn’t know it was Vito’s son until Joey told her later.”
Reno’s heart grew faint. His sister killed somebody. His sister? “Where is she now?” he asked.
“They were driving around, that’s how panicked they were. I told her to wait wherever she was, I can’t even remember right now, and I had our people bring her in. They called just before I got here. She’s still in Jersey, at the family compound in Somers Point. Under heavy guard. She begged me not to tell you, but how could I not, Reno? She’s your sister.”
“Where’s this Joey character?” Reno asked.
“With her. I had him brought in too. I didn’t want the cops capturing him so he could spill the beans on MarBeth.”
“Good,” Reno said with a nod, although his face was still a mask of anguish. “Good move, Carmine.”
MOB BOSS 3: LOVE AND RETRIBUTION Page 2
