“Sorry. It’s just, I don’t eat meat.”
“None?”
“No. None.” He eyed me. “I know. You’re probably wondering how a vegetarian stays so chubby.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t. I was thinking you are succulent.” I’m sure I looked surprised. “Here,” he said scooping up a spoon full and placing it to my lips. “It is good for the soul to try new things.” Before I could think, I opened my mouth for him, and the stew went in.
I chewed, then swallowed. “Not bad,” I admitted.
He took a bite. “Ah. But not good either.” I watched him scoot the two bowls aside. In the next instant he had returned his attention to me. His dark brown eyes glittered. “I have something to tell you,” he said, and leaned in close. I felt the warmth of him. He took his hand, brushed my hair over my right shoulder, and whispered, “I must kiss you. If I don’t, I fear I will die.”
Chapter Four
Without notice, I felt my stranger’s mouth on mine. His tongue probing me, until he found what he was looking for. He christened my tongue with his, and I didn’t stop him. I couldn’t stop him. A riot was being conducted within my body. I felt a spasm rock my unexplored pussy, and immediately became wet for him. He stood me up. Still kissing. I experienced his embrace, along with his hands as they roamed down my back, followed by the stiffness in his jeans when he pressed against me.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and leading me through the swell of bar patrons. I became aware of my heart beating in my throat.
“Where are we going?”
We had exited out a back door. The unmistakable hiss of a crack pipe made me turn my head. I only saw the glow of the lighter, and heard the beat of the carnival, then was taken inside another building. It was dimly lit, but he obviously knew where he was going. He picked me up, kissed me deeply, and sat me on a bed that was placed upon a round dais of sorts. I felt him, his body working against mine. I smelled the musk scent of him. Tasted his lustful flavor, when his tongue delved into my mouth, once more. Somehow, he had removed my dress, ripped my panties free, and shed himself of his shirt. I hadn’t worn a bra, there was no way to wear one with the dress that was somewhere other than my body.
The pace was fevered. Hands. Tongues. Skin against skin. Then he stopped, and looked at me. I wondered if he liked what he was looking at. But I didn’t have time to ask him. He heel-toed off his boots, un-buttoned his jeans, and took something out of the small drawer beside the bed. When he stripped out of his jeans, his cock was hard, and standing like a soldier, stiff and ready to do battle. I saw him as he sheathed his manhood in latex, went to his knees and spread my thighs.
“Maybe we should…” That’s all I got out. Somewhere in the back of my mind, came the idea to protest. I didn’t know this man, but when his tongue spread my lower lips, working up to my clit, I thought I might catch fire. He lapped at me, nibbling on my nub, bringing me to the verge. I was mindless, writhing and lifting my hips up in offering to him, giving him my wet desire.
I heard him groan, then felt him slide between my legs. I scraped my nails down his back. He powered his cock inside of me. I screamed and opened my eyes. He froze and met my gaze. “You were a virgin?”
He was looking directly at me. Eye to eye. I didn’t know what to say. Perhaps my condition totally turned him off. “I’m sorry.”
“God. Don’t be sorry, but I wish you would have said something to me before I just gave it to you so eagerly.”
I smiled. “I think I like eagerly.”
He kissed me, and slowed the pace, building and building. Re-stoking the fire until I exploded.
“That’s it,” he said, pumping his big cock in and out of my body while I constricted around him. “Now, don’t hold back.”
“Then you don’t hold back either,” I said, shaking.
He rolled me to my stomach, entered me from behind, pressing on my anus with his thumb while he fucked me.
“Your newness fits me like a pink, wet glove.”
I felt him pound into my body, pressing deep, so deep that I wanted to hold on to this feeling. Then he reached around with his free hand and worked my clit, rubbing it.
“Oh, God! Don’t stop doing that thing you’re doing with your hands.”
“Squeeze your pussy around my cock and keep backing that ass up for me,” he said in a hungry voice. I did what he asked, coming around his hard dick, while he fucked into my body. “Give me your ass.” I backed my ass up, experiencing the penetration of his thumb. He had total control of my body, and just as he played his guitar earlier, he engaged me. This sexy, skilled, struggling musician didn’t struggle in bed. He knew every touch to excite, entice, and bring me to the apex of climax, which he did, over and over again.
****
I must have dozed off for a moment. When I heard him at my ear, I turned over to see him.
“I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here. This place belongs to my brother, and he will be home soon, more than likely, drunk. Trust me; you don’t want to see that.”
“Yea. Sure,” I said and grabbed my dress, making sure to put it on right side out.
Once we were dressed, he stared at me a moment. “I never told you how sexy you are in that dress.”
“Thank you.”
He took my hand and led me out the way we had come in. I heard the door shut behind us. Instantaneously, his body connected with mine. We were so close, you probably couldn’t fit a paper between us. When his hand skimmed up my bare thigh, I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. I was hot. The night was hot. The masculine, hard body snuggled up against mine—even hotter. I felt a bead of perspiration as it rolled down the curve of my spine. The shuffling of shoes echoed on the pavement somewhere not too far away. Honking horns mixed into the shouts of celebration. Behind my closed eyelids, I still recalled seeing the vibrant colors of the carnival that was going on.
Strong fingers looped through my long hair, accompanied by an insistent tug, and the warmth of his breath kissed along the cord of my exposed neck.
“You are spectacular,” he said.
I trembled as the large palm claiming my thigh slid up to my hip, taking the material of my skimpy dress with it. I swiped my tongue over my thirsty lips. He sampled them before softly biting the bottom rim of my lower one.
“Mmm…you still taste like candy,” he said with that titillating accent.
I tilted my head, and searched for him, needing the extraordinary feel of his mouth slanted over mine. He laughed, and the sound sent a flashpoint of a chill over the balmy canvas of my flesh.
“I hate to cut things short, but I must go.”
I opened my eyes and stared at him. He stepped back from me. Disappointment raged through me, but at least he was blowing me off without being too horrible about it. “Um, okay.”
“I want to see you again. Will you have dinner with me, tomorrow?”
“Where?” I asked, and hoped I didn’t sound too desperate.
“Siri Mole & Cia Restaurante, at six-thirty.”
He really wants to see you again, Luci.
“Come on, I will make sure you have a taxi ride before I go.”
My stranger and I walked down the alleyway, connecting to another side street where a line of taxis was waiting. He talked to the driver of one, opened up the back passenger door, and helped me inside.
“Wait,” I said before he shut the door. “I don’t even know your name.”
“My friends call me Rafi, and my beautiful lady has qualified as a close friend.”
“Rafi. My name is Luci.”
He took my hand, lifted it to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I’m please to meet you Luci,” he said. I savored the moment before he let loose and turned to walk away. This time, I really lost sight of him in the crowds.
Chapter Five
My bags were packed and ready to go. Funny, only a day ago I was primed to leave, but now I wished I could stay on for a while. If only, I thought a
s I remembered Rafi’s kiss. Snap out of it, Luci. You only have tonight. I’d go to the restaurant, have a nice dinner, where I would tell Rafi I was leaving on the midnight flight for New York. We’d probably chit-chat, tell each other we’d stay in touch, then I’d go back to the Copa, Alejandro would help me load my bags into another taxi, I’d go back to NYC, Rafi would stay behind in Rio, and we would never speak again. My time with Rafi would be reduced to a memory. A great one, but a memory all the same.
****
With all the chaos surrounding carnival, I left the hotel early. I didn’t want to be late for my goodbye dinner with the man who in many ways would always hold a piece of my heart. That most precious part of me was his. I knew it was true. You never forget the first time, and I would never forget that sexy guitar player named Rafi.
The screeching of tires popped my head out of the clouds and into the present in time for a walloping collision. Someone hit the driver’s side of the taxi, halting us from going anywhere, anytime soon.
“Are you all right?” my driver asked.
I quickly took note of myself. “I’m fine. And you?”
“Fine, but I’ll need to get out on the other side,” he said as he slid across the front seat. I watched him scurry out the door, speed walk around the front of the car, and start yelling at the driver who hit us. Arms were flailing in the air.
I tested my door and was able to get out. I wasn’t sure how I could intervene and stop the heated argument that was taking place between my driver and the other man, but perhaps I could do something to calm down the situation. As soon as I approached the two pissed off men, someone ran up, ducked into the cab, and grabbed my purse from the backseat.
“Hey!” I yelled, and took off chasing after the thieving bastard. It didn’t take me long to realize, I wasn’t getting as far as he was. He completely vanished into the onslaught of onlookers, carnival goers, and the otherwise engaged people dry humping on the sidewalks. “Shit!”
The guy got my money, my credit cards, ID, and cell phone. I wanted to cry, so I did.
****
The local police, or state military as they are known in Brazil, took forever processing my case, and the accident. It also became a mini nightmare trying to cancel my credit cards. With very little light at the end of the tunnel, I was sitting in the waiting area of the state military office, when in came my thief. One of the officers had actually caught him, and my purse with my ID had been returned.
It was going on eleven p.m. when I made it to the restaurant. I knew Rafi wouldn’t be there, but I had to try. When my new taxi came to a stop in an empty parking lot, my hopes of seeing Rafi one last time were crushed under the steel-toed boot of bad luck and bad timing. I rubbed the back of my neck. On top of everything, I was going to get a stress headache, but what made the whole thing worse was the anxiety that accompanied the knowledge I didn’t have time to try to figure out how to find him. I only had a first name, and a shanty bar that I didn’t know the name of, and probably couldn’t locate again. My shoulders slumped in defeat. Rafi would probably think I blew him off, and with no way to tell him what happened, he would never know the truth, and I’d never get to tell him how much my time with him meant to me or even say goodbye.
Epilogue
New York. The city that never sleeps, and since arriving home from Rio, I never sleep either, plagued with thoughts of Rafi, and how horribly our newly formed friendship ended. They always say when one door closes, another door opens, so yes, I may be sleep deprived, and on the brink of a mega head-cold, and constantly thinking of Rafi, but Steinbeck and Rollins was so impressed by my work in Rio that they made me a junior partner in the firm.
I stared at the traffic from my office window, trying to fight off the pressure of the stuffy nose coming on.
“Ms. Karins,” Jody, my new assistant, said over the intercom. “There’s a gentleman here to see you.”
It had to be Edward Gates. He always popped in unannounced and wanted to pick my brain about his investments and grill me because he wants to know if he’s making a good choice, and how that choice will affect his taxes, and would he get any good tax credits this year? Blah, blah, blah.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Jody. I have a meeting in five minutes. Can you tell Mr. Gates I may be awhile, or he can actually schedule a time to see me next week, which would work out better.”
“It’s not Mr. Gates.”
“What? Then who is it?”
“He said I can’t tell you.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You’ve got to be kidding me? I rolled my eyes and grumbled under my breath. “Okay. I’ll be out there in a moment.”
I swiped my hand through my hair, made sure my skirt wasn’t too wrinkled from where I’d been sitting most of the morning, strolled to my office door, turned the knob, and walked out, biting my tongue so I wouldn’t cuss out loud.
“Well,” I said, looking around. “Where’s my mystery man?”
Jody pointed toward the conference room doors. “Over there.”
I flipped around on my heel and focused in that direction, more than irritated. There stood my mystery man. His dark hair popped against the light color of the grey suit he was wearing. He turned to fully face me, and the long waves of his hair framed his face.
“Rafi?” I asked, unsure if my head was so clogged that I was seeing things.
“Luci,” he said as I walked toward him.
“What in the world are you doing here? And how did you find me?”
“Friends don’t let friends leave without saying goodbye,” he said.
“God, Rafi. I’m so sorry. Things were crazy the day I was supposed to meet you. My taxi was in an accident, my purse was stolen, and—”
“Are you telling me you didn’t intentionally leave me high and dry?”
“I would never do that, and by the time I finally made it to the restaurant, the place was closed. I looked around, but you were nowhere to be found. I only had your first name, and I had to catch my flight, so I didn’t know how to locate you.”
I was speaking so fast, it was amazing Rafi understood me. I glanced up at him and met his dark gaze and superb scowl. He was silent.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Roth Steinbeck stepped out of his office and stopped right in between Rafi and me. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, Mr. Bellini, but I was on a conference call with the west coast office.”
Mr. Bellini?
“No worries, Steinbeck. Luci was keeping me company, and I’d say she’s a might prettier than your ugly mug.”
Steinbeck and Mr. Bellini both broke out into a manly chortle.
“So have you two been formally introduced?”
“No,” Rafi said.
“Well, we shall rectify that right now. Raphael Bellini, meet our newest junior partner to the firm, Ms. Luci Karins. Luci, may I introduce you to Mr. Raphael Bellini.”
Mr. Bellini took a hold of my proffered hand, but instead of shaking it, he kissed the top in a gentlemanly fashion. “I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Ms. Karins.”
“Likewise, Mr. Bellini,” I said.
“I’m surprised the two of you never actually crossed paths in Rio,” Mr. Steinbeck said. “With introductions made, I guess we all should head into the conference room.”
“I’ll be right in, Steinbeck,” said Mr. Bellini.
“Take your time. We’ve cleared our morning for this meeting.”
When Mr. Steinbeck walked into the conference room. Raphael Antonio Bellini smiled at me. I wanted to drop dead right where I stood, but I sucked it up and crossed my arms.
“Do you care to tell me how the poor struggling musician came to be the billionaire, Raphael Bellini, playing Spanish guitar in a old, rundown bar in Rio, and why you told me your name was Rafi?”
Rafi shrugged. “I told you my friends call me Rafi, and that’s not a lie. And you assu
med I was poor.”
“Humm…and the guitar?”
“My father taught me, and I like to play it for a live crowd.”
“And that place behind the bar, was that really your brother’s?”
“Yes. I never lied to you about anything. He owns the bar and the warehouse behind it. He uses it as his studio for painting, and a place to sleep one off when he’s been drinking.”
“Uh, okay.”
“I have something more important to talk about, Luci.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I must confess. I knew who you where that night in the bar.”
“Well, I was wearing the dress you bought me.”
“Yes, but that’s not why I recognized you.”
“It’s not?”
“No. I saw you working one night in the accounting office at the Copa. I prayed you would notice me, but you didn’t.”
“I’m sorry. I tend to get lost in my work.”
Rafi grinned. My heart skipped a beat. “You need to know that I thought you were and still are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon.” My Rafi leaned in, bent down, placed his mouth by my ear, and whispered, “Our meeting at the bar was fate, and I never tempt fate. Besides, I owe my woman a dinner.”
“Your woman?”
“Do you wish to argue the point of my claim?”
I shook my head.
“Good, because after this meeting, I’m taking you to dinner.” Rafi stroked my cheek with his fingertips. “Then after dinner, I’m going to kiss you.”
“You are?”
“Oh, yes. I must kiss you, or I know I will die if I don’t.”
The End
www.londonsaintjames.com
Other Books by London Saint James:
www.evernightpublishing.com/pages/London-Saint-James.html
THE MOBSTER’S PROMISE
Copyright© 2013
Sandra Bunino
His Page 12