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My Dirty Detour: An Alpha Male Mafia Comedy Romance

Page 9

by Grace Risata


  “Am I making you wet, Violet?” he whispered as his hand began to massage the area in-between my legs. His thumb started to circle, slowly rubbing me. My back arched involuntarily, pressing my tits up against his chest. Simultaneously he found my bra hook and my jeans zipper. I would literally be completely undone by him in a matter of seconds. I had to execute a maneuver to both gain the upper hand and slow him down. One that would make a lasting impression and stand out from other girls he’d been with. Ok, I can do this.

  “Rocky, stop. You’re not the boss of this backseat, I am,” I purred as seductively as I could. “I’m in control. I call the shots.” I took his hands, lifted them over his head, and wound them in the top part of the seatbelt. Doubtful that my makeshift knot would hold him, I added, “Don’t move your hands or the game is over.” He murmured in agreement and I started kissing him. I worked my way down one side, nibbling his ear, sucking the earlobe, playfully biting along his jawbone, licking his neck, and tasting the salt of the sweat on his skin. I breathed in the scent of him and moaned, while slowly working my way back up the other side of his neck.

  “This is torture, Violet. I have to touch you,” Rocky breathlessly pleaded as he removed his hands from their improvised restraints. He was up my shirt and fondling my breasts before I could mutter a protest. I squirmed out of his grasp as he continued trying to grope me. “What’s wrong?” he asked noticing my discomfort, “Don’t tell me you never had any backseat action in high school?”

  “In high school? No not really. I was a shy geek in high school. I didn’t mess around with guys until after I graduated.”

  “But you must have fucked some of them, right?”

  “Well, technically no. I only had sex with my ex-husband. I mean I went really far with other guys before him, and it’s not like we waited until we were married or anything….” I might as well have been talking to a brick wall. Rocky immediately got serious, picked me up off his lap, and deposited me on the other side of the backseat.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he barked, “We’re done.” He fidgeted in his seat and pulled at jeans that had become painfully tight. Apparently one part of him was not done yet.

  An awkward silence fell over the car as I internally replayed the events and wondered where it all went south. Rocky began to shift uncomfortably as sweat beaded up on his forehead.

  “It’s getting HOT in here,” he complained. That couldn’t mean what I thought it meant, could it?

  “Um, Sergio?” I asked, “You don’t think he’s gonna hurl, do you?”

  Sergio glanced in the rear view mirror, took one look at his friend, and cursed while pulling off to the side of the road. “You will NOT throw up in the back of my car, you rotten mother fucker!”

  I opened my door and slid out because I was on the passenger side and I didn’t want Rocky climbing out into traffic. This was my first wrong move. The second wrong move was not moving far enough away. Rocky staggered out of the vehicle and promptly threw up. We’re talking projectile vomit. A gallon of beer mixed with the bizarre foods he’d eaten created a tantalizing combination as it oozed down the front of me. All over my shirt. And down my pants. I ran around flailing like I was on fire and screamed, “GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF,” while at the same time willing myself not to gag in reaction to being covered in upchuck. Rocky was hunched over by some bushes losing more of his lunch, while Sergio tried to calm me down.

  “It’ll wash off, Violet. Settle down.”

  “I will NOT settle down! It’s PUKE! And it’s ON me!”

  I ripped off my black shirt. Thank goodness I still had a t shirt on under it and the mess hadn’t soaked through. I pulled off my belt and took off my jeans. At this point, I would rather be half naked in the car for the ride home then have on barf clothes.

  Sergio made sure Rocky wasn’t dying and we all finally made it back to the car. Rocky returned to the back seat, groaning in agony and clutching his stomach. I sat in the front seat with my smelly clothes wadded in a ball at my feet. Sergio got behind the wheel and floored it. The speedometer might have gone over ninety at one point, but I was in no position to complain. Right now I couldn’t imagine a more welcome sight than my safe, clean, and comfy bed.

  The moment we pulled into my driveway I got out and bolted toward the house. Hopefully no neighbors saw my half-dressed sprint of shame. This had definitely turned into a night I would not soon forget. To top it off, I still hadn’t made up my mind whether it had been a date or not.

  Sunday

  “And then I had to race into my house wearing only a t shirt and underwear and carrying a wadded up pile of puke clothes!” I ended my recap of last night’s events during a morning phone call with Stella.

  “Holy shit, Violet! At least tell me you were wearing decent undies?!?”

  “No, I was most certainly NOT. It didn’t really matter because my shirt was long and I pulled it down to stretch past my ass. Seriously though, after that whole story all you care about is my granny panties?”

  “No,” she insisted, “There are several other things I have to say. I’m amazed you let some guy you’ve barely known for a week almost get to third base. What do you even know about this guy? Did you look him up online? What about his friend? Normally you’re the prim and proper girl lecturing everyone else about their wild behavior and you’re going nuts like a kid in a candy store!?!”

  “I know, I know. But you didn’t SEE these two Stella. I keep telling you that, but you don’t grasp the concept. Guys like these two don’t exist in our little town. They ooze raw sex appeal. One wants to kill you with his bare hands and the other could charm the pope into buying condoms. They’re like no one I’ve ever met before and they’re hanging out with ME!”

  “From what you’ve said, the killer is doing more than just hanging out with you. Tell me more about the erotic part of the night. I’m old and married and I need to live vicariously through you. Normally you have no game, but you’ve finally come through for me.”

  “Yeah, it was totally HOT. I just don’t understand why he backed off so fast. It was right after I told him I’d only been with one person. But I was with that person for ten years and we were fucking for nine and a half of those. That makes me the opposite of a virgin.”

  “I don’t know. The only way to find out is to ask him on Monday. But before you do, take two minutes to look them up online and see what you’re getting into!”

  “I already looked Rocky up and the search results yielded nothing. Maybe Rocky isn’t his real name. It’s probably just a nick name. I asked Sergio what his last name was and they both weirded out and changed the subject. If they wanted to murder me and take turns raping the corpse, they’ve had ample opportunity to do that already. Hell, Rocky pushed me off him when he thought I was too inexperienced.”

  “Just be careful. It sounds like you’re going to get in WAY over your head, if you’re not already. What does Frankie think of all this?” Stella knows my mom and how she has a tendency to freak out on me.

  “That is the absolute NEXT call I’m making just as soon as we hang up. Bye Stella!” I ended the call before she could threaten to tell my mommy that I’d been naughty the night before.

  The fact that my Aunt Dina was currently at my mom’s house would make things a bit easier for me. My aunt made a point of making the hour and a half drive to visit her only sister at least once a month. At sixty-three, Dina was two years older than Frankie and they were pretty close. I called my mom and told her to put the coffee on because I’d be over in five minutes and I had a hell of a story for both of them.

  My mom still lived in the three bedroom ranch house where I grew up. I was forced to park on the street since my Aunt Dina’s flashy black Lexus was parked crooked and took up the whole driveway. Dina was an artist and mainly got by with all the alimony she received from her three divorces. After the third one, she decided she was done with relationships and would put her focus toward random flings instead. My mom w
as the total opposite. She’d gotten married to my dad when she was only twenty and they’d been together twenty-eight years before he passed away. She had a few casual boyfriends since then, but he was the love of her life. If anyone could counsel me about Rocky, it would be the two of them.

  There was no need to knock since I still considered this my house. My mom and Dina were sitting at the kitchen table with their hands wrapped around steaming coffee mugs. Although they were sisters, they differed wildly in the looks department. My mom had short hair that she straightened daily and dyed to remove the gray. Her usual outfits consisted of jeans and blouses and she always went light on the make-up. Dina was a stark contrast. She thought make-up was meant for all day, every day and my mom constantly lectured her about not taking good care of her skin. Dina’s long gray hair was always piled haphazardly on her head with several strands hanging out of place. She also dressed more bohemian with long flowing skirts and bangle bracelets piled high on her arm. Oddly enough, they were both still in their pajamas this morning.

  “Why the hell are you two not dressed yet? It’s nine thirty in the morning!” I chastised.

  Dina broke into a devilish grin and explained, “I brought your mom a bottle of her favorite wine and we were up late making sure it was a quality product. I’d offer you some but it’s all gone, not that you’d actually have any.” Yes, I was a buzzkill. Even my cool aunt knew that.

  “I have stories, people! Wait until you hear what I did last night. It rivals any story that Dina has!” I bragged with gusto.

  “It better not,” my mom warned.

  Aunt Dina smiled and winked at me. “Tell us what you did, kiddo. Your mom told me you had a hot date with some guy that you’re working for now? That sounds messy. I guess forbidden men are the best ones though. We’re all ears.”

  “Ok. I don’t really work for him one hundred percent legally because I’m not getting paid. So the guy, Rocky, came to my house on Saturday morning and told me that he would pick me up at five and take me to the Taste of The Town. BUT he brought his friend, Sergio, who also works with us. Before we got to the food thing, Sergio warned me that Rocky was getting drunk because his grandpa was sick and he was all upset about it. After we got to the food thing, Sergio picked up two slutty dumb girls but Rocky grabbed my hand and said that I was his date. I got all excited until he said he didn’t want to get stuck with one of the bimbo twins. So I was all ‘Does he like me or does he just NOT like them?’ Then I got a salmonella burger and he practically knocked it out of my hand so I wouldn’t die. We went off on our own to talk and he said he was single because some whore where he used to live ruined his life. I told him about my divorce, but ONLY because he asked and not because I was complaining about men. Then we ate some food and rejoined the rest of the group. Rocky was totally drunk by then. We started listening to a band that I had never heard of, and it was good music so I busted out some dance moves. You know how I dance. So Rocky started grinding behind me and I did a Jersey Turnpike---“

  My mom interrupted, “Violet, for Heaven’s sake take a breath. You’re talking too fast and I have no idea what a Jersey Turnpike is.”

  Dina gladly explained, “It’s when the girl bends over face down and shoves her ass in the guy’s face. It’s kind of skanky.”

  “Violet! Shame on you!” my mom scolded me.

  “Well, he was dripping raw sex appeal and the Barbie twins had giant fake tits and I had to do SOMETHING to keep up with them all. Anyway...where was I before I was rudely interrupted? Ah yes. I was dancing like no one was watching and Rocky had his arm around my waist practically dry humping me in public. Rocky lost his balance and knocked into some nasty-ass biker dude, so the guy and his gang wanted to start a fight!”

  Aunt Dina gasped and my mom questioned, “Did this really happen or are you making this stuff up?”

  “Mom,” I whined, “it really all happened. Did you not hear Rocky scream in the background when you called about the poison burger? That drunk dude was Rocky! Now let me continue because we’re not even to the good part yet! Six biker dudes tried to start shit and Rocky was all ready to throw down. So Sergio points in the opposite direction and screams, ‘They’re giving away free t shirts over there,’ and then the three of us ran away and abandoned the dumb girls. Once we got to the car, Sergio shoved Rocky into the backseat and made me sit next to him. Rocky was all horned up and sat me on his lap. He was inches from me and I weighed the odds of ever having an opportunity like that again. They were a million to one. So I kissed him! We made out some more and he started going farther than I wanted and I got fidgety and he asked how many people I’d been with and I said just one and he freaked out and shoved me off his lap and then puked on me later.”

  I paused for air after that giant run-on sentence and my mom took that as an opportunity to put her two cents in.

  “Why are you talking so fast? Did he give you drugs? Are you still high? What do you mean he puked on you later? How far did he go that was farther then you wanted?” See? That’s where I get my love of questions from. While she doesn’t ask as many as I usually do, she comes pretty close.

  “Frankie, let her catch her breath,” My Aunt Dina interjected, “and look at her eyes. I don’t think she’s on drugs. They look normal.”

  “No, I am not on drugs. Rocky started turning white and sweaty and Sergio pulled the car over to let him get out and heave. But I was in the way and he threw up toxic spew all over the front of my clothes. It was soooooo disgusting. How far did he go? He was starting to unzip my fly. But I caught him and put the brakes on that whole situation.”

  My mom was not impressed with that answer. “Well, what do you think he was going to do? Fuck you in the backseat with his friend watching up front? I don’t like this guy, Violet! I think you should quit the stupid fake job and find a nice guy who respects you.”

  “MOM! He IS nice. He respected me enough to stop after I told him I’d only been with one guy my entire life. How come Aunt Dina can do whomever she wants, but I have to stay Susie Virginal for all eternity?”

  “Sweetie, I’m your mom’s OLDER sister, therefore she can’t tell me what to do. You are her daughter, so you’re stuck with her nagging for the rest of your life.” Aunt Dina pretty much called a spade a spade. I appreciated that about her. She went on, “So tell us why you like this guy. Is it because he’s the opposite of your ex, full of danger and excitement at a time when you need that?”

  “No, not at all. Well, it is exciting. I mean he’s exciting. I just like being with him. He comes off as this bad-ass, but he’s been pretty decent to me. He yelled at me once when he thought I was trying to break his computer, but other than that he’s been a perfect gentleman. He really listens to me and asks questions about my life. I think he cares about what I’m saying. He’s protective of me and doesn’t want me to eat raw meat. He has a painful past that made him mistrustful of people. He kisses like...well, I’ve never been kissed that way before.”

  “What do you mean he yelled at you? Now I really don’t like him, Violet. I taught you better than to be with some hot headed hoodlum. And he wasn’t a perfect gentleman if he was trying to get into your pants on the first date. I’ve clearly failed you as a mother!”

  “Frankie, settle down. She obviously sees him as a project, someone she has to save from himself. Let the girl explain further and then we can yell at her.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Aunt Dina.” I had to make them see what I saw in him. “He had a computer virus and he thought I was deleting all his important files instead of fixing the computer. Anyone could lose their temper over that. I lose my temper over computers all the time. He apologized and he’s been fine ever since. I don’t have to save him from himself. He has a short temper, but I think that’s just how he learned to adapt to survive in his environment. You’re ruining my night of adventure and making me feel like a pathetic loser who’s making excuses for some dude I barely know. The point is that I had an
amazing night of wild excitement. I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. It’s time I started really LIVING instead of just going from day to day to day waiting to become a spinster with thirteen cats.”

  The phone rang before anyone could give me another unwelcome opinion. It was my mom’s on/off boyfriend, so she took the call in another room. My Aunt Dina turned to me and said, “Pay attention, ok? You’ve lived a very sheltered life compared to most people. Especially compared to me. Have fun but also be careful. He sounds like the kind of guy who’ll break your heart. You’re very trusting and naïve and I don’t want to see you hurt. Don’t do something you’ll end up regretting. Ok. End of lecture. He was a good kisser, huh?”

  “You have NO idea, Aunt Dina! It was incredible! It makes me wonder what other tricks he has up his sleeve.”

  Aunt Dina looked over her shoulder to make sure my mom wasn’t coming back into the room. “Let me leave you with a few last words of advice. Listen and listen good. Sometimes the biggest regrets in life have nothing to do with your actions…but rather your inability to act.”

  “But you just told me to be careful and not do something I’d regret,” I reminded her.

  “Exactly. Live a life with no regrets. Ask yourself what you would regret more. Would it be worse to be with him and get your heart broken, or to never be with him at all and spend every second wondering how it might have been? Sometimes it’s better to be an ‘I shouldn’t have’ than an ‘I wish I had.’ Don’t ever forget that.” Those were some deep Words of Wisdom from Aunt Dina. I should have them embroidered on a pillow.

  Monday, Week Two

  Once again my car was sitting in the Grim Rocky Distillery parking lot while an internal debate raged over whether or not to go in. “Monday Violet” wasn’t exactly pissed at “Saturday Night Violet”; I’d do it all over again if given the chance. Nevertheless, my stomach was really nervous and there was an awkward feeling about what I was walking into. Nothing got done around my house on Sunday, as I held a small hope that the doorbell would ring and Rocky would appear to sweep me off on some epic adventure. That didn’t happen. With the warnings of Stella, my Mom, and Aunt Dina echoing in my head, there was a sense of dread that just wouldn’t go away. I would let Rocky make the first move today and then I’d follow his lead.

 

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