by Cara North
"Sure.” I say and find my heart thumping in jealousy that they have talked to each other and not to me.
"So what number should I give him?” Jacob asks. “I mean this is the phone at your house right? So is there another phone we should call?"
"My cell phone.” I say it and realize that while they were here I didn't use the cell phone. I didn't have to. I can go months without any real phone calls. Only Brittany, my parents, and my job called me and only work called on a regular basis anymore, and work used the bat phone. “Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't realize I didn't give either of you the number."
"We see how you are. Holding out the digits for other men.” He teases. “But seriously I need a number for him."
I give him my cell number and then he surprises me by getting off the phone right after. I look at the receiver and shake my head. I was getting wound up for a nice chat but nothing.
When my cell phone rings a few minutes later, I know it is Henry or Jacob calling me. Against my will, I kept moving it to whatever room I was in. Unfortunately, when it rang I happened to be in the bathroom and the phone was in the bedroom. I turn off the faucet and say, a prayer of thanks I wasn't still indisposed. I run for the phone and pick it up right before it goes to voicemail. I am breathless as I collapse on the bed, “Hello?"
"Hey.” It's Henry.
"Hey stranger.” My heart pitter patters.
"I was wondering what you were doing the next couple of weeks."
"Same thing I always do, work.” I smile though he can't see me.
"Do you have a passport?” He asks and I springboard up in the bed.
"Yes.” I say with caution.
"Do you think you would like to come to Italy for a couple of weeks?” he asks slowly and deliberately as if he is worried about my answer.
My throat is shut. My head is nodding yes, but I can't speak. I squeak a sound but it isn't yes.
"Sonja?” He says nervously. “I just thought it would be an opportunity for you to maybe do some research or something."
I feel bad because I know he is making that up. He asked me to visit and I am too excited to speak. I am sure it is because I never say yes to anything unscheduled. My mouth knows better.
"Yes.” I finally get out. I can hear his relief. “I need to see how much it will cost, check the schedules and..."
"I took care of it. If you can come, you'll have a ticket waiting for you tomorrow.” He says.
I am glad I am on the bed. It is a nice place to pass out! “Henry, you can't, I mean..."
"I can, I did.” I hear his smile, “I'll see you soon."
"I ... I."
"I'll see you soon So'.” He says. “Goodnight."
I hang up without saying anything.
I am pacing back and forth in my closet like a crazy woman. I have no idea what to take with me but I have less than twenty-four hours to pack. The phone rings and I pick it up without looking at the number. At this point, anyone will be fine to talk to.
"I'm jealous” Jacob says.
"Because?” I prompt him.
"You get to go to Italy without me.” He chuckles. “I was going to invite you to New York. He reminded me of how quick the paparazzi would pick up on you in New York. Sneaky bastards."
"You don't think there will be paparazzi in Italy?” I hadn't really thought about any of this.
"Nah, not really. Everyone there thinks the show is wrapped so no one will expect to see them around. Henry is not the number one on the show though he is gaining some attention, you could probably walk down the street holding hands and no one bat an eye much less take a picture.” I can hear the sadness in his voice. “You know I never regretted anything about my job until right now."
"What are you talking about?” I can focus and pick out clothes while I talk to him. It keeps me from over thinking the outfits.
"You know, the lack of privacy. I mean I never cared before because the girls were always using me to get ahead or to get in the magazines, on a cover. I was also using them, I admit. But I can't do that to you and I won't. So it just really sucks to be me right now."
He sounds so sad I stop packing and focus only on the conversation. “Jake, I know who you are. I mean if a time comes when you need me on your arm, I don't care about the photographs. It's fair to have a friend. Even celebrities are entitled to people in their lives that aren't looking for the spotlight."
"Which is why I wouldn't put you through that.” He says. “You're my friend, my lover, and I wouldn't dare put you in the fishbowl for the world to pick you apart just because you are with me."
He sighs heavy and my heart breaks for him. There is a down side to every job and certainly living in a fishbowl is the downside of his. I immediately feel guilty for all of the time I spent watching the celebrity news, or buying gossip magazines that exploited their business.
"I wish you could come with me to Italy.” I mean it. I love getting to spend time with Henry, but to be in another place and have new experiences with both of them would be the best.
"I have to go to L.A. next week to meet with my agent. We'll see what's lined up.” He says. “Will you call me when you get there? Make sure you take sunscreen, and an extra bag because you're likely to shop. Oh, and clothes that stretch."
"Clothes that stretch?” I laugh.
"You like to eat So', you're going to be in heaven and I doubt Henry will work it off the way I can.” I hear his arrogance but I agree.
"Well then if you don't make it to Italy I'll come hide out in New York for a week of working out, how's that?"
"I'll hold you to it.” His mood is lifted.
"Promise."
"All right, enough. I can't take much more of it. I'll be jerking off in my sleep as it is.” He laughs. I laugh.
Then it gets quiet.
"I miss you.” He says. “I've only missed Henry for so long I forgot I could feel like this about anyone else."
I don't know what to say.
"Goodnight So'. Don't forget to call me okay?” He says and I agree.
I finish packing my bag and for good measure, I toss in two skirts with an elastic waist. I know I won't need them, but just in case.
[Back to Table of Contents]
That's Amore'
I wish I could fight the jet lag but I am beat. I stumble off the plane and make my way to baggage claim. I don't know if Henry will pick me up of if I am to look for a driver with a sign, I just know that someone better be there and they better be ready to take me somewhere there is a nice soft bed to lay in.
It is nine at night Eastern Standard Time meaning it is two in the morning here. I must say that the first class accommodations helped but the turbulence, the food, the landing, have all done a number on me.
"Sonja.” Henry waves to me and instantly the jet lag begins to fade. He is sporting the beard he wears on the show. He looks tired and I imagine that two in the morning is again two in the morning for him.
I relish the feel of him as he envelops me in his arms. He rocks me back and forth a moment, squeezing tightly then finally letting go. “Nice beard."
"I have a couple more days of shooting then I can shave it off.” He runs his fingers over his chin.
The luggage belt squeals to life and fortunately, my bag was one of the first off. It was a good start to an amazing adventure.
I am sleepy, I am happy; I am trying to look at everything as the taxi takes us to his home. Henry speaks to the driver and I realize that what he is saying is not in English. I tune in and listen to the most beautiful words coming from the man's mouth. He points and the driver nods, laughs and speaks back to him. We pull up and Henry gets out. I follow him and grab my carryon though they both give me a look of surprise. The driver says something I can't understand. Henry laughs and says something back to him. I am impressed and annoyed at the same time. I hadn't thought about the fact that he had been living here a year or more while filming the show. I mean I knew the people in Italy speak Italian,
I just thought like most selfish Americans, that I could speak English and get by anywhere. I understand one thing, “Arrivederci!"
"Arrivederci!” I say and they both look at me. I shrug.
"Come on.” Henry smiles and I want to kiss him. I follow him instead.
"This is your flat?” I look around and I am surprised at how small it is. He lives over a store of some sort. I imagined a huge luxurious apartment. I am pleasantly surprised by its humble size and décor.
"Mi sei mancato molto!” He says.
I turn to look at him and I liquefy. “What?"
"I missed you so much.” He tucks those gorgeous lips of his in then lets them flesh back out. By the time he looks down, I am leaning up and into him. Jet lag be damned. I want him.
I am clinging to him for dear life. His tongue is dueling with mine in a desperate dance. His beard scratches my face but I don't care. We are not new lovers, we are not old lovers, we are just lovers on the verge of doing what we do best. “God, get your clothes off!"
He pulls his shirt over his head. I hastily unfasten my pants and try to strip them off while at the same time pulling off my shirt. The result, I look like Jacob, clumsy and wild with lust. I almost fall when Henry catches my elbow to steady me. “It's okay, we're not going anywhere."
I ignore his sentiments and remember that eventually we are all going somewhere. Away, and for a long time this time. I can't imagine that after these two weeks I will be seeing him again for a while. The thought urges me not to waste any time. “Fuck me Henry."
"Oka...” he doesn't get the word out. I am on him, my hands around his warm body, smoothing up his back and pulling his shoulders. He moves us to the edge of the bed and carefully lays us down. His lips press against mine, his nose bumps mine as he changes the angle, our teeth clash in the process. I don't care. I don't care that I am uncoordinated and that he is ravenous. I just want him inside me.
"God, Henry!” I cry out as he slips a hand between us and presses his middle finger into me. I am crazed by his touch. He has found something. Something I thought I didn't have. At first, it feels a bit uncomfortable, but then it feels good. Really fucking good! “Right there, shit, fuck, Henry."
"That's my girl.” He says and pushes a second finger into me to torture the same spot.
"Oh fuck, what is that?” I cry out. “Fuck, harder, harder. There."
"Is that good?” He says calmly.
I on the other hand am about to come undone. I have never felt this before. I have always had a clitoral orgasm. Even when having sex, I find the right tilt or rub where he rubs against me in a rhythm that gets me off with enough concentration. This, this spot he has two fast, hard, fucking fingers on it is totally new to me. I searched for it on my own, and then gave up. My clit had never let me down, why try to fix something that wasn't broken?
"Faster, faster, harder. Fuck Henry I'm...” He pulls out his fingers and I want to die. I want to die of embarrassment and pleasure all at once.
"So it does do that.” He says and looks at me.
I can feel my face flush hot burning red with humiliation. “I'm sorry."
"Why?” He says and offers to help me up.
I can barely stand. There is clear fluid running down my legs now and I don't dare look at the blanket as he pulls it off and tosses it away from the bed. “I need a shower. I mean I know that's not ... I just didn't realize that it would..."
"Yeah me either. I mean I was curious, which is why I did it, so now we know. Did it feel good? It looked like it did.” He opens the door to the bathroom and steps in. He turns on the shower and adjusts the water temperature. The small space is clean and tidy. Everything so far is minimal, but little touches make it homey. “I'm pretty proud of myself right now."
My mouth drops, then snaps shut. “I'm pretty embarrassed right now."
"Why?” He shrugs. “It's natural. It's not like I didn't expect it. I just didn't believe it, but now I do. You wrote about it a year or so ago, remember?"
"Yes, but that was researched."
"Well, I did some research too. Come on, a shower will make us both feel better. I'm beat and I have to work in a few hours."
My eyes get wide I can feel it. “Henry,” I get in the shower and the warm water washes away my worries. Henry looks down at me, his beard collecting water droplets. “Thank you for bringing me here."
"Come here.” He says and pulls me close to him. The water has rinsed us clean. He backs me against the tile wall and the coldness gives me a jolt. With ease, he lifts me. I am not much shorter than him or Jacob. I have always been tall for a girl, and it made life more challenging when it came to dating boys. I just couldn't see myself looking down at them and expecting them to overwhelm me.
My legs wrap around his hips. I slide a hand between us to guide that thick shaft of his right to where I need it most. He pushes in with a grunt. He begins mumbling in Italian and I can't understand a word he is saying but it is beautiful, it is sexy, and I hope he does that more often.
"I don't know what you're saying but it sounds sexy as sin.” I gasp as he thrusts deeper.
"Beautiful, you are so beautiful.” He says in my ear.
I kiss his neck. I fight the urge to mark him. I know he can't very well go into work with a hickey. “You're the one who's beautiful. You and that big beautiful cock of yours."
He growls low. His fingers sink into my skin and I realize he likes that a whole lot. “Oh, Henry, mmmmm, you feel so good inside me. I'd love to feel you everywhere."
He says something in Italian I am sure is a curse word.
"Fuck me as fast and as hard as you'd like to Henry.” I must have pushed his magic button this time. He cries out, presses me into the wall for support as his entire body trembles. His forehead falls to my shoulder and I can feel his fingers gripping my flesh so hard I know it will be bruised.
"That went faster than I would have liked.” He says between twitches.
"We have to move.” I grip his shoulders and pull up lifting my back from the wall. He realizes his grip and slowly, gently helps me get my feet back on the porcelain tub.
"I'm sorry.” He scrubs a hand over his face and water abandons his beard in all directions. “I ... Oh shit that's cold."
For my part, I squeal like a girl as the water goes from warm to cold without warning.
We laugh as he turns off the faucet. “I think we've done enough damage to each other for one night, how about you?"
"I still have cold feet.” I warn him.
"My shins can take it.” He says with seriousness about him I can't entirely read.
"Oh, fudge. I need to call Jacob to let him know I'm here.” I slap my hands over my mouth.
"Fudge?” He says and hands me a large towel. I wrap it around myself and follow him to the large open space of the loft. Each section has a distinct space but it is visible from one end to the next. “Here, I'll call him."
Henry speaks to him briefly then hands me the phone. I open my suitcase as I listen to music and loud people in the background and barely hear him explain how he is at a party for the studio and he wished we could both be there. Someone distracts him momentarily and I take the opportunity to pull on a night shirt. Henry for his part finds another blanket to replace the one on the floor. He double checks his locks and settles into bed. I pull on a pair of pajama shorts and crawl in bed. We both listen to the phone.
"Tell him to call when he has time to talk to you not to everyone else.” Henry gives me a look of disgust.
I am tired, doubly so after the nights events so I tell Jacob. He is sad in his reply but he hangs up warning us both to behave and not to do anything he wouldn't do. He also reminds Henry to give me what he sent before saying, “Have fun, pretend you're a rock-star."
I think about those words for two minutes then think of nothing else as Henry pulls me towards him. I turn, placing my back to his front and my feet on his shins. The rough hair tickles my feet; the warm skin feels fabulous
to my toes. He sucks in breath at first touch but doesn't pull away from them. “I told you."
"I miss your cold feet too.” He says in English then whispers something in Italian I don't understand. I vow to find a dictionary tomorrow.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Rock Star
If living like a rock star means waking up alone to a note and a key then consider me famous. Henry slipped out early in the morning. I must have been dead to the world. Worse—I slept so hard I actually drooled on his pillow! I apparently cannot control any of my bodily fluids in Italy.
I think back to last night. I know from research that what comes out in a g-spot orgasm isn't urine it's a totally separate fluid. I just didn't think I could do that!
I pull on jeans and a t-shirt. I take care of my morning routine and slide my feet into some comfortable walking sandals. I pick up the credit card Jacob sent me. The envelope said to eat to my hearts content, and shop till it popped. I don't know how much is on the pre-paid card, I do know that I won't be testing its limits.
I walk outside and I am faced with beauty. My eyes are covered with sunglasses and I push them up on my head just to take in the magnificence of Rome without anything between me and the city. I fold the written directions that were on the desk. The whole thing was in Italian, and aside from a few numbers, I didn't understand a word. I imagine Henry left it for me in the event that I get lost. I tuck the paper in my bag and head down the stairs.
I walk, I stare, I gawk, I stop and take notes.
I am in love.
I am in love with the greatness, the old buildings, the people, God everything they say sounds so poetic, so sensual. I am sure it is something like can I take your order, but to my ears, it sounds like, make love to me.
I don't talk to many people. I point, say thank you, and nod a great deal when I buy something.
And so far all I have bought is food. I bought gelato, first thing in the morning! Ice cream for breakfast! I am not ashamed to say that there have been two more places; I have stopped to get gelato. It so happens there are a variety of flavors I would never have tried otherwise. I ask the man to give me his favorite and he understands. I have tried pistachio twice! It was awesome both times. I walk and walk and eventually I look at my watch and realize I have been gone for six hours. I worry that Henry may be home, probably worried that I am lost. I think I know my way back but unfortunately, so many things look the same when you backtrack. Especially when I realize I wasn't paying the best attention to my route so much as the sights.
