Stroke: A Bad Boy Romance

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Stroke: A Bad Boy Romance Page 5

by Gabby Grace


  I push some more boxes into the now growing flames, forming a line that extends to the outer row of wooden crates. The heat of the fire quickly becomes too hot to stand near, as the fire spreads from one box to the next, and before long, half the warehouse is alight.

  The fire alarms are blaring as I run over to grab the two laptops, and then I sprint towards the exit Marco used earlier. The smoke is overtaking me and I try to hold my breath. The sprinklers come on, I protect the laptops, but I don’t think they’re enough to put out this now raging inferno. I kick with my feet at the loosened bricks and they tumble down, just as I’m starting to fall in and out of consciousness from the smoke that’s searing my lungs and causing my body to shut down. I shimmy through the opening, pushing the laptops out in front of me, and cough in fits for a minute before staggering to my feet and sprinting for the chain-link fence and freedom.

  I slide the laptops under the fence, scale it like an Olympic champion, and drop down on the other side. After a quick one block sprint, despite legs and lungs that are burning and being tested to their full limits, I arrive at my Mustang. Quickly, I get inside and turn the key until she fires up, pop it into gear, and lay strips down the street, the smell of burning rubber filling my nostrils. A quick glance over my shoulder shows flames leaping out the corner of one roof, and I know I just kicked some mafia bosses in the nuts so hard that they won’t find them until next week.

  Fuck, that was close. The sound of fire engines and police cars are making their way in my direction, but now I’m out on a main street with other moving vehicles and perfectly blend in with everyone around me.

  Holy shit, Vito. That was the stuff of legend.

  10

  Bella

  I’m at my old house where I was born in Medellin, Colombia, and the doorbell keeps ringing. Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong. But even when I answer the door and see my second grade school teacher on the doorstep, it still keeps ringing.

  Then I wake up, shake the cobwebs out of my head and find myself in my own bed. I squint at the clock, trying to focus my eyes. It’s 12:15 a.m.

  Ding dong.

  Shit.

  I pad my way to the front door, scarcely remembering that I forgot to cover myself up. Completely naked and only now realizing it, I peek through the long glass panel next to the front door. I pull the sheer back just enough to see Vito standing there.

  Shit, whatever. He was licking my pussy not eight hours ago, I could care less if he sees me naked now. I open the door, revealing my full nudity to Vito. His eyes bug out of his head, and he smiles his smile, his dimples materializing out of nowhere.

  He steps coolly over the threshold, leans his arm against the door just above his head, and eyes me like a wolf getting ready to slaughter a lamb. “So, I can see we’re on the same wavelength here.”

  “Come in, Vito.”

  I roll my eyes and don’t even attempt to cover myself.

  “Do you always walk around naked?”

  “I sleep naked. That’s what I was doing when you woke me up. Ya’ know, sleep. You may have heard about it.” I can be a real bitch when I’m tired.

  Nonchalantly, he moves father into the house. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

  I say nothing and slam the door, still pissed at him.

  “All things considered, we should take advantage of things.”

  “Don’t you ever sleep?”

  “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

  He moves to me, cupping my face with his hand, his touch electrifying my body and activating parts of me. Womanly parts.

  I pull away. “Uhh… you smell like smoke.”

  “Oh yeah. Me and some buddies made a bonfire on the beach and I guess I got a little too close.”

  I motion for him to follow me through the living room “Into the shower. I can’t stand the smell of smoke.” I can feel his greedy eyes on my ass as I continue moving along, activating the dim light of the motion sensor night lights.

  We reach the bathroom, I flip on the light, then dim it lower until our eyes can adjust. I turn on the hot water, mixing in a little cold, as he simultaneously strips down, throwing his smoky clothes in the corner.

  I collect them off the floor. “I’ll wash these. I don’t want them stinking up my bathroom.”

  My eyes flow down his body, from his massive chest to his six-pack abs to the muscle V that points to his prize.

  He has one leg in the shower when he pauses to speak. “Then?”

  “Then we’ll see what we can do about your friend.” My eyes motion to his cock, still growing right before my eyes, with a heartbeat and pulse for little old me.

  I walk down the hall a few steps to the louvered doors on my right, open them, and as I’m putting his pants in the washer, I hear a succinct clang sound of something hitting against the metal inner tub. I reach in his front pocket and pull out his phone and a post-it note.

  To no one in particular, I say, “Glad I didn’t wash this.” I put the phone on the mahogany hall table, and as I’m going to throw away the post-it note, I happen to read it. 141 Macawber Street. I crumple it up and throw it in the wastepaper basket next to the dryer.

  Steam is flowing out the open bathroom door, spilling into the hallway. The dimmed lights give me just a faint view through the translucent shower curtain to see Vito washing himself.

  If I were a sculptor and my project was to sculpt the perfect body, it would be Vito’s. I’ve been with some smoking guys in my day, but nothing like this man. He is in an entirely different zip code from the guys who play racquetball at the club every day and think they’re in good shape. They don’t have a clue about how to build up the male form compared to him.

  His hair is cropped short on the sides, and even in the shower, the top part sticks straight up because this guy likes his style. Vito’s eyes are colored slate blue, highlighted by strength and experience deep within them. No doubt he has seen some hard stuff in his life.

  After creepily watching him for a few minutes, I eagerly step toward the shower, feeling oddly comfortable being naked in front of Vito. Stepping into the shower with him is like crossing a threshold from my mundane life into an amusement park of human passion. As I wet my hair, I watch the water glisten off every ridge and on every muscle of his torso. I nudge him out of the water stream for a bit and nestle my petite body into his hardness.

  I can feel the flaming heat coming off his cock as he pushes it into my back, and he wraps his chiseled arms around my seemingly tiny body. He kisses my shoulder, then breathes into my neck, his hot breath making me tingle with excitement and anticipation.

  His fingers tiptoe down my shoulder to my nipple, and he stops for a little tug and caress before continuing down to my stomach, my eyes focused on his sharp jaw, cheeks and chin covered by stubble. His touch is so amazing that I feel nerve endings firing all over my body, followed by a sweet shiver down my spine.

  With his other hand, he, traces down my side and then slides right down to my clit, where he rubs with just his fingertips, increasing my wetness tenfold. It feels so good, his body hard and warm behind me, his fingers and lips working their magic in other places.

  He angles his arm forward, cocks his wrist, then plunges two fingers deep inside my pussy, angling them up and around until they’re caressing my g-spot. “Ahhh…” I bite my lower lip, then release it and lick it with my tongue.

  I reach behind me with my free hand and stroke his cock a few seconds, but the angle is tough on my shoulder. It feels enormous and hot in my hand, and I want nothing more than to have it buried inside me. Deep and hard. As hard as he wants.

  I whisper hoarsely over the sound of the rushing water, interrupting my moaning. “I want you to fuck me hard, Vito.”

  “Yeah, I’ll fuck you, Bella.” His gravelly whisper in my ear drives my desire deeper, his fingers far inside me, massaging my honey spot, his lips on my neck. It’s all too much. I need him now.

 
I pull away from Vito’s embrace and burst from the shower, dripping wet and soaking the bathroom rug beneath my feet. He follows me out, pinning me against the sink, and in one motion, he lifts me behind my ass with one arm and gently places me on the edge of the countertop, my legs dangling over the side, spreading just a bit to welcome him in.

  My arms go behind me, his hands on the inside of my tender thighs, spreading me wide and pulling me to him. He enters me in a flurry, his long, thick cock filling me up, pounding into me hard and deep. There’s nothing gentle about what’s happening now. He pistons and pounds his hips forward, one arm wrapped around my waist and the other keeping my right leg pressed open wide.

  He’s slamming into me, and I let out a large gasp with every thrust, keeping in rhythm to him. Our breathing, our bodies, our fucking, it’s all in complete sync, and I have never felt more connected with another man than I do right now. His cock relentlessly pounds into me, and just when I think I can’t take it any harder, he gives me more.

  Vito is a powerful beast unleashed on my flesh to ravage me as he pleases. I can only stay focused on his rhythm and ready myself for the next thrust. I’m screaming now, largely unaware of how my vocal chords are playing this encounter out.

  I am bursting at the seams, ready to release my power and careen over the edge, and his moaning and the look on his face tells me he’s close as well, and could we? We both explode into each other, bodies heaving, clenching, wet slickness flowing off of us, his hot seed filling me to the brim. My waves keep coming and coming until I have nothing left to give or take. I’m exhausted. Sated.

  There is just us, his warm embrace, the steam filling our lungs, his hard body gasping for breath. We are two people joined as one, and I have never had a more perfect moment with another man than what we’re experiencing together.

  Then the tears start flowing, not from sadness, but from happiness. Happy to be alive, to be fucked and claimed so completely by Vito, to feel so satisfied and overflowing with love of and for everything and anything. For this.

  His arm grasps me behind my waist, and he slowly lowers me down using his powerful thighs to guide my body gently to the tile floor. He pulls me into him, supporting my weight as I don’t believe for a second that my legs still work. Guiding me into the shower, he grabs a washcloth and gently washes my pussy first, then his own package with scented lavender soap, before turning off the water.

  His kiss is passionate and welcoming, and my lips are swollen beyond belief. He steps out of the steam, grabs a towel, and lovingly wraps it around my spent body, before grabbing one for himself. My perfect man is drying his perfect body right in front of me and all I want is more.

  Rest will have to wait until another time. I’m ready for the next round.

  11

  Vito

  We fucked half the night. I don’t know what to say or what to think. Just when I think we’re done, one of us starts things up again with some groping, kissing or caressing, and thirty minutes and a handful of orgasms later, we’re working ourselves up for our next encounter.

  I glance at the clock. 4:38. I need to get some fucking sleep. I bagged her three times tonight, and if you count this afternoon, that’s a whole lot of fucking going on.

  I need to call someone first thing in the morning and let them know what’s going on. Torching a warehouse to the ground and pissing off powerful and dangerous men is nothing to take lightly. Our entire family is in danger right now, and Don Antolini needs to know.

  ____

  7:32 and I’m waking up. Fuck it. Three hours will have to do. She looks just as beautiful as the first time I saw her at the airport. Laying there, her beautiful tanned skin in stark contrast to the creamy ivory sheets gets my cock stiffening. Her soft breaths coming in and out with the slightest sound, her mouth open just a bit, makes me want to kiss her deeply and take her again and again.

  Business is business, though, and I have some shit to take care of.

  I slip out of bed, plod to the bathroom, drain my bird, and then start looking for my phone. Where the fuck? Oh shit, it was in my pants last night. I hope Bella didn’t put it through the wash. This sounds like some domesticated guy thinking about his day. Definitely not what I’m used to.

  I walk down the hall saying a Hail Mary when I see it there on the high wood table against the wall, directly under a painting of some oblong shapes and shit. No doubt, some genius artist charged thousands for that piece of crap.

  There’s only seven percent battery life left and my charger’s back at the motel. Fuck. I’ll give it a shot.

  Unlocking my phone with my four-digit code, I hit contacts and find Joey’s number. Dial and wait.

  “Good morning, Joey, this is Vito.”

  “Hey, Vito.”

  “My phone is dying, so I’ll give it to you quick. I infiltrated the warehouse where they’re keeping and distributing the goods. I ran into some trouble but took care of it. I had a decision to make.”

  “What decision, Vito?”

  “I torched the fucking place.”

  “You what?”

  “I burned it right to the fucking ground.”

  When I tell him about the laptops, he wants them delivered immediately.

  I hang up the phone. ‘Immediately’ means he wants me to get on a plane and deliver them personally. It will take too much time to overnight them, and he doesn’t want to risk them getting lost during shipping.

  Ordinarily I would welcome the excitement of hopping on a plane, blasting from one section of the country to the other and back if needed, but right now all this meant was one thing that I didn’t like.

  I would have to leave Bella.

  12

  Bella

  Vito woke me close to 8:30 by shaking my shoulder gently. I woke up, quickly shrugging off my grogginess when I realized he was fully dressed in the clothes I threw into the washer last night and looked like he was getting ready to leave. Images of last night plowed through me, as I recounted the amazing connections we had seemed to make. It was more than just sex, I'm sure of it. Well, it was mind-blowing sex, the best ever, but still there had been more to it than just the sex.

  “Good morning, Bella.” His voice was deep, his tone soft, drenched in sex.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and pushed my hair, a tangled mess after last night’s escapades, away from my face.

  “Good morning, lover.” I stroked his inner thigh with my hand, slowly trailing it up toward his crotch, then back toward his knee. “Where are you headed off to in such a hurry?”

  His voice turned serious. “I have to go.”

  “Will you be back later?”

  His eyes shifted down to the carpet as if searching for what he should say, and then came back up to meet mine squarely. “No.”

  “Okay, tomorrow then?” Rising up in the bed a bit, I shifted to lean on my elbow on the soft pillow, my palm against my right ear.

  “I don’t know.” His tone was off, and I could tell he was holding something back. “I need to go back to New York. First flight I can get.”

  “But you haven’t worked on your tan yet.” I tried to make a joke, but inside, my stomach was knotting up and I felt like I might be sick.

  “My boss is pulling the plug on that.”

  I pushed myself up to roll out of bed. I massaged his neck with my hand and put my naked belly against his cheek. “Okay. You have time for breakfast?”

  “Afraid not. He’s a man that doesn’t want to be kept waiting… I have to go.”

  It seemed like he wanted to say more, but never did get the words out.

  He kissed me passionately, caressed my smooth cheek with his rough hand, and then I walked him out to the living room, his arm draped snug around my shoulder, pulling me to him. I thought my naked form might entice him to stay with me a while longer, but he kissed me gently, made for the front door, opened it, looked over his shoulder one last time, and then was gone. I c
ould hear the click of the door shutting behind him, and then… silence.

  I stood in the foyer, naked and alone, my arms crossed in front of me across my breasts. I listened for a few seconds more, hoping – no praying – that he would walk back into my life, if only to hold me.

  It never happened.

  13

  Vito

  Ricci picked me up at the JFK airport just after lunchtime, and because I traveled light, I was able to navigate the usual time killers at the airport, like baggage check and baggage claim.

  He gave me a quick man hug, along with a handshake.

  “Hey, Vito… good to see you, bud.”

  “How are you, Ricci?”

  “Good. You know, taking a little breather from my girl.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean, brother.” I grab him around the shoulder like a big brother would and tussle his hair a bit. Ricci hates it when you mess with his hair, which is why I make it a point to do it.

  ____

  “Where’s your shit Camaro?” I ask when we get to the parking lot.

  The lush Audi, Don Antolini’s, has leather seats, a moon roof, and all the features. He smirks. “I ride in style now. Fringe benefits of sleeping with the Don’s daughter.”

  Somehow this smug fuck got with the Don’s daughter. He’s a good looking guy and all that, and I heard he’s hung like a gorilla, but I don’t fucking get it.

  “I’ll have to try that sometime.”

  “I’ll gut you like a fish if you even think about her in that way.” His tone gets serious and his pointer finger is in my face.

 

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