Travis: To accompany the Fallen Angel Series - A Mafia Romance

by Tracie Podger

  The trip was only one day; we would fly out, have our meeting and fly back. Paul had organised a private charter so we could fly at our convenience. Once settled in our seats, while preparing for take-off, I sent Alison a text. I wanted to arrange our next date for when I returned.

  Paul had also arranged for a car to meet us at the airport. There was no waiting to collect luggage, no traipsing through arrivals; the car was waiting for us on the runway allowing us to be ushered off the jet and into the waiting Mercedes. The driver took us straight to the site in Manhattan. We spent an hour or so walking around the site, with Paul detailing where the building would be. Robert understood the plans far more than I did. I just saw a piece of wasteland full of rubble; he could picture the finished project.

  We watched as three cars, all identical, arrived. They stopped, and someone who could have been related to Goon exited from the first car. He took his time to look around, and stared at us with his hand just inside his jacket, chest high. That stance made Robert and I chuckle. After a minute he opened the rear door of the second car and a very distinguished elderly man climbed out, waving away the offered hand of Goon version two. Massimo stood and buttoned up his suit jacket before making his way over to us. He was flanked on either side by variations of Goon version two.

  “Roberto, it’s good to finally meet you,” Massimo said, pulling Robert into a hug.

  I barely concealed the chuckle. It was a source of great amusement back home that Robert had been rechristened with an Italian version of his name by the older members of the other families. It was not generally acceptable to have a non-Italian as head of a family, but respecting Joe, a new name for Rob was the compromise. In any event, Robert certainly looked Italian.

  Robert and Massimo chatted back and forth. Goons version two, three and four stood with arms crossed over their chests, scanning the environment. For what, I had no idea. We stood in the middle of a wasteland; any threat would be seen from a mile away.

  We walked around the site, Paul detailing the outline of the plans, and as we made our way back towards the waiting cars Massimo asked Robert if he still fought.

  “Only for fun and generally with Travis,” Robert replied.

  “I watched one of your fights, yours too, Travis. You were very angry, Roberto, if I remember,” Massimo said.

  “Probably, I was angry a lot back then,” Robert replied.

  “And not now?” he enquired.

  “Only when the need arises, Massimo,” was Robert’s answer.

  The conversation wasn’t about our days of boxing; it was a subtle exploration of whether Robert was still on top of his game, whether he was willing and able to issue an order, to solve a problem. With a nod of his head, Massimo said his goodbye and climbed back in his car. Sadly, a year later we learnt that Massimo had been imprisoned under the FBI’s Rico Laws. He would never be a free man again.

  We arrived back in DC in comfort and record time thanks to the luxury of the jet. Robert left to catch up with Joe and I made my way to the club to meet Alison. I would have to ask Robert about a different venue for our next date, but I was comfortable at the club.

  Alison was already seated when I arrived; I leant to kiss her cheek as a way of greeting her and breathed in the heady scent of her perfume.

  “How was your trip?” she asked.

  “Good, we have a development starting. Today was just to view the site and go over the plan.” Of course I made no mention of meeting Massimo.

  We chatted back and forth, ordered from the hovering waiter and enjoyed our meal. Over coffee Alison informed me that the furniture had arrived at the apartment, and that Robert and I would be moving in within the week.

  “Want to come and take a look with me?” I asked.

  She eyed me suspiciously. “Mr. Curran, are you inviting me back to your place?” she teased.

  “I believe I am.”

  “You can’t offer me a coffee, you have no cups yet,” she said.

  I signalled for the manager. “Tom, find me two takeout containers and fill them with coffee.”

  I smiled and stood, holding out my hand to help Alison from her seat. By the time she had retrieved her coat from the concierge Tom had returned with the two takeout containers full of coffee.

  It was a short drive to the office and although not occupied, we had already installed security. I had rung through on the way announcing my arrival and found a guard waiting by the door ready to open it for us. We were silent in the elevator as it glided up eleven floors and opened into a fully decorated reception area. The front door to the apartment was yet to be fitted with a lock. I pushed it open and we walked through into the open living space. A large black leather sofa with stainless steel legs stood, still wrapped in cellophane, in the living room. The kitchen was fitted with appliances and the oak wooden floor throughout was highly polished.

  There was a smell of fresh paint and, like a child, I couldn’t help but place my fingertips to the wall closest to me to feel if it was still wet. I felt a strange sensation in my chest, in my stomach. This was to be my first real home, a home I knew I would be safe and comfortable in. I walked towards the bedroom I had selected. Although the three bedrooms were the same size I had opted for the one furthest away from the door, Robert the one closest, leaving the middle empty. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision, but I wondered if we left it to buffer any noise made from either bedroom.

  Alison followed, not that I had asked her to do that, and for a moment I was so lost in my own thoughts I had forgotten she was with me.

  “Are you okay? Do you like what I’ve done?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

  “I like it. It’s just… well, this is going to be my first real home, and it feels a little odd at the moment.”

  “What do you mean, your first real home?” she asked.

  “I was a street kid for many years…, both Robert and I were. Home was an alley and a doorway to the back of a Chinese restaurant, if I recall.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know. Where do you live now?”

  “Now that’s a long story,” I said. How did I explain Robert and I lived at Joe’s without explaining who Joe was?

  A wooden bedstead dominated the room, its mattress in a cloth protector, and on either side of the bed were small nightstands. I sat on the bed and looked at Alison standing in the middle of the room. She stared straight back at me. No words were spoken as she took the few steps required before she was standing between my knees. Her hands cupped either side of my face. I ran my hands up her legs, catching her dress and raising it. She leant down for a kiss.

  Her lips gently pressed against mine. I opened my mouth and my tongue tangled with hers. My hands had come to rest on her hips and I held them fast while pulling her closer to me. I could feel the lace of her panties under my fingers. Our kiss deepened; I was hungry for her.

  I stood, and as I did I raised the dress over her head. She wore a matching lace panty and bra set, somehow that pleased me; I’d hoped she had dressed for the evening. Her tanned skin set off the white of the lace. She reached forward and unknotted my tie, sliding it from my collar, and with an agonising slow pace she undid the buttons of my shirt. Her hands brushed against my chest, lower and lower as each button was popped open. While she unbuckled my belt I shrugged the shirt from my shoulders, letting it fall in a heap on the floor. Alison ran her fingers around the waistband of my pants, her nails scraping gently against my skin. She popped the button, undid the zip and with my pants in her fists, she lowered them as she sunk to her knees.

  My hand fisted in her hair as her tongue licked up the inside of my thigh. She reached to either side of my shorts and pulled them down. As my cock sprung free her lips closed around it. Her mouth was hot and her tongue slid against the underside of my shaft as she sucked. My stomach clenched as my orgasm built. I pulled at her hair, releasing myself from her mouth and she stood.

  Alison unclipped her bra, letting the straps slide from her shoul
ders. She slowly lowered her panties until she was standing naked in front of me. Cupping her face with my hands, I kissed her fiercely. I echoed the moan that escaped her lips.

  I wanted that kiss to last forever, but I wanted to be inside her even more. Breaking away, I turned her and gently pushed until she fell onto the bed. As she shuffled up I climbed on, crawling over her body. I started at her neck, my lips and tongue tasting, kissing and inhaling her scent. As I moved lower I caught a hard nipple between my lips. My hands were either side of her, holding her wrists to the bed. I placed light kisses on her stomach and worked my way down her body to the place I wanted to be. Her legs parted giving me access. Her clitoris was swollen and glistened; I swiped my tongue over it.

  As I forced my tongue inside her, her body arched off the bed and she cried out. I licked, sucked and teased until I felt her thighs quiver, until she screamed out and came. She relaxed back on the mattress and a sheen of perspiration covered her chest. I raised my face to hers.

  “You’ll find what you need in the bedside cabinet,” she said.

  I gave her a puzzled look before reaching over and opening the drawer. I laughed as I noticed a packet of condoms.

  “You have catered to all my needs haven’t you, Miss Parkins,” I said.

  “All part of the service, Mr. Curran.”

  Opening a packet, I rolled a condom down my cock. I hovered over her for a moment; we locked eyes before I pushed into her hot, wet pussy. She wrapped her legs around my waist and raised her hips, matching my thrusts. Her hands held my biceps and her nails dug into my flesh as she came again. I gave into my release shortly after. Alison released her legs from around my waist and I rolled to her side. She turned to face me.

  “That was so good,” she whispered.

  “That it was. I don’t suppose you thought of a bin, did you?” I asked, removing the condom.

  “Darn, and there I was, thinking no other designer went to such lengths. I shall add that to the list of items yet to buy.”

  I slid my arm under her neck and pulled her to me. She placed her hand on my chest, her fingers brushed against my skin. For a while we were silent. It was just as I started to doze that I felt her hand move down my stomach; my cock twitched in response. I kept my eyes closed but smiled. Her hand stroked and massaged me hard again.

  “Ready for round two?” she said.

  This time Alison reached for the condom and ripped the packet open with her teeth - fuck, that was hot. She expertly rolled it down my cock and then straddled me, lowering herself slowly. She rode me hard and fast and her nails raked down my chest as her orgasm built. I struggled to hold myself together long enough for her to come first and when she did, I felt like I had exploded. She collapsed onto my chest.

  We lay for a while and as the evening drew in, the lights on the apartment automatically came on, so subtly at first that I hadn’t noticed.

  “I need to get going,” Alison said sleepily.

  “I’ll run you home.”

  “I’m fine, I can take a cab.”

  “Alison, let me run you home,” I replied.

  “Please, Travis, we’ve had a great evening. I’ll use the bathroom and then catch a cab.”

  I was concerned. Why would she not want a lift home? I couldn’t force her, though. We dressed and took the elevator down to the foyer. There was a light drizzle so I wrapped my suit jacket around her shoulders and waited with her while she hailed a cab. As one pulled alongside the curb she turned to me and handed back my jacket.

  “Thank you, it’s been fun,” she said. She reached up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on my cheek before getting into the cab and driving away.

  I stood for a while watching the cab take her home and wondering why she’d left that way. A little investigation was in order. Climbing into the Range Rover, I started the engine and made my way to Joe’s.

  ****

  Joe and Robert were sitting in the garden room, each nursing a small cup of espresso. They were chatting back and forth in Italian but switched to English as I joined them. Evelyn came and sat with us, topping up coffees. It was hard not to notice how frail Joe had become. At first we had thought it was his heart giving him problems, and after much nagging from Ev, Joe had finally consulted a doctor. He had cancer and had refused all treatment. We were all devastated by that news, and no amount of arguing with him would change his mind. He was a stubborn man and I knew, when the time came, he would be deeply missed by us all. He had been the father I would have loved - actually, he was the father that I loved.

  I didn’t hear from Alison for a couple of days. I knew she was busy with the final arrangements at the office, but she was there the day we moved in. She took delight in showing all the guys around, and I was proud of her; she had done a wonderful job. When we got to the apartment she gave me a sly smile and a wink. Not only had she furnished the place, she had also arranged for the kitchen cupboards to be stocked and the bathrooms to have a selection of toiletries. Nothing had been overlooked.

  “You’ll find everything you need, Travis, in your bedside cabinet,” she whispered as we left.

  “Not much good if I don’t get to see you to use them, though,” I replied.

  “Oh you will, soon.”

  She left with Paul to complete some paperwork, leaving Robert and I alone in the apartment.

  “Well, this is it then, bro. Grown-ups at last. Fancy a beer?” I asked as I opened the fridge.

  “Sure, might as well celebrate. Feels strange though,” he replied.

  We sat on the sofa and clinked our bottles together.

  “You didn’t fuck her on this did you?” he asked, looking down at the black leather.

  “Bro, what do you take me for? Of course not. I christened my new bed.”

  He laughed and we drank our beers, watching the lights of Washington illuminate as the night fell.

  “So, what do we do now?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It just seems a bit odd not being at Joe’s. Do you think Ev will be okay?”

  “Sure, she knows she can call us if she needs us. Probably glad to get rid of you and the mess you leave. And speaking of mess…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll make sure to leave as much as possible, just to piss you off,” I said.

  ****

  Over the weeks that followed we moved into the apartment and I saw Alison a couple of times a week. Our schedules seemed to always get in the way. She had moved on to a new project, one that took her out of the city a lot. I would have liked to have seen her more and although at first I didn’t realise it, I was really beginning to fall for her. I liked that she challenged me; she didn’t fall at my feet. Yet something still bugged me. Not once had I driven her home, nor had I been invited to her house. If she stayed the night, it was always at the apartment. Robert, although he hadn’t said anything, was clearly uncomfortable with that. If he knew she would be visiting, he stayed out late and was usually up and at his desk before we rose in the morning.

  I decided I needed to start investigating why Alison kept me from her house. Mack and Robert were in Robert’s office when I entered.

  “Got a minute?” I asked.

  “Of course, what’s up?” Robert answered.

  “Alison…” Before I could finish Mack cut in.

  “On the rocks already?” he said.

  “No, I don’t think so. I’ve been seeing her for a couple of months now and not once has she invited me to her house. I want to know why,” I said.

  “Want her address?” Mack asked.

  “You have it?”

  “Of course he has it,” Robert answered.

  “Don’t go rushing over there. There might be a good reason she hasn’t taken you back home,” Mack added as he rose from his chair and left for his office.

  A couple of minutes later he was back with a file. Everyone we worked with, either as an employee or a contractor, had a file. I could have kicked myself for not thinking to check if
one had been made on Alison. It was purely for security; Robert needed to know exactly who he was dealing with. I took a note of her address and pocketed it.

  “Just drive by, Trav. Don’t go knocking on her door until you know why she’s kept you away. You might be over-thinking it,” Robert said.

  “Sure, catch you later,” I replied.

  I took the elevator down to the parking lot and climbed into the Range Rover. Setting the Sat Nav, I made my way out into the traffic. It was less than a half hour before I was instructed to turn into a leafy lane. Smart, tidy houses lined both sides of the street. I slowed as the annoying voice on the Sat Nav informed me I was close to my destination. The houses were detached, with a garage to one side, and I pulled up opposite one. The front yard was neat and it looked like someone tended the grass and flower beds. The one thing that struck me though was a bike leant against the wall next to the front door - a pink child’s bike.

  I sat for a moment contemplating its meaning. Did Alison have a child, a daughter? And if so, why not say so in the beginning? More important, how did I feel about that? Children had never really figured in my life plan. There was no sign of life at the house, and after a couple of minutes I drove on.

  “That was quick,” Robert said as I entered his office.

  “Mmm, I think she has a child. There was a bike in the front yard,” I said, as I sat in one of the chairs opposite him.

  “Has she ever mentioned a child?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No, and it might answer the questions about why I only see her once or twice a week and why I never get invited to her house.”

  “Maybe she wants to see how your relationship goes before she introduces you to her child. How do you feel about her?”

  “I really like her, Rob. I think this could be serious, but a child? I don’t know if I can handle that.”