by Marlene Hill
She looked up surprised. A little frown creased her brow. “But I want to. I want to taste you, love you this way. Lord knows you’ve tasted me. We are talking about some sort of partnership, aren’t we?”
“Hope so.”
“Well then, it’s only fair for me to have my way this time, right?”
“Right,” he sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillow.
“I’m not an expert at this, but I think I can figure it out as I go,” she said letting her tongue flatten along the underside of his stiff penis.
“You’re doing… just… fine,” he gasped sounding short of breath.
A glistening drop leaked out, and her tongue curled around it. She liked the taste and his special scent. What was it? She ran her hands gently over his shaft that pulsed with heat. She closed her mouth over the head and half sucked and half tickled.
“One problem with you tasting me,” Chuck panted, as he raised his head again, “once I explode, we have to wait. With you, we can keep on going.”
“Hmmm,” she said. “Are we in a hurry?”
Not waiting for an answer, she continued, and he was past stopping her.
“Micina, climb on. I’m close. So close.”
“In a sec.”
Then he did exactly what she wanted. He erupted into her mouth. She swallowed as much of his primal offering as possible and grabbed up a bath towel to catch the rest. Her heart was pounding, and she was pleased with herself. Anise! His special scent was anise. Immediately, he began to caress her. She stopped him. “Take your moment, Chuck. I’ll be here.”
They lay together a long time, dozing. Then he roused and knew exactly how to give her the most pleasure. They made love again until they were both sated and content to fall asleep in each other’s arms. An evening meal had been forgotten.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Pronto,” Chuck said coming out of a deep sleep.
“Hey man, sorry to call so early, but . . .” Chuck slipped out of bed and crossed the hall.
A short time later, Giulia woke to the smell of coffee.
She cinched the belt of a robe she’d left behind and followed her nose. “Do I smell freshly brewed coffee?”
“Perceptive of you,” he said and wrapped his arms around her. She lifted his Tee-shirt, insinuating her nose into his chest hair to inhale his scent again. She’d never get enough and her tongue skated across a nipple.
“Hey, we don’t have time for that and breakfast too.”
“Why? What’s the hurry? Do you have to go back to the post?”
“No. We are going to the airport to meet Tom, an old comrade. Need to be there in ninety minutes.”
He told her about Tomasz Makowska. He spelled the name and said Tom’s Polish name was pronounced Tomahsh. He was coming in for a couple of nights on his way from a weather conference at CERN. With his Ph.D. in Atmospheric Physics, Tom was a specialist in meteorology and global weather patterns. Tom had also begun his education at the Air Force Academy, and they’d met in Special Ops training. But when time came for re-upping, Tom had opted out. His wife had given him an ultimatum.
“Now, though, he and Teri aren’t together anymore. Anyway, I want him to meet you. We can show him the Venice we both adore.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you’d rather spend catch-up time alone?”
“I’d like to have you with me—sort of show you off—if you would?”
“I can’t wear the clothes I wore yesterday, they’re in bad shape.” And she thought of the bad shape her emotions had been while wearing them.
“No problem. I’m hiring a taxi to pick him up anyway. Let’s have a quick breakfast. Then we’ll zip over to your place, you can change, and we’ll make it in time.”
Giulia hurried to take a quick shower and when she came back into the kitchen to grab a piece of toast before dressing, Chuck said, “Have a quick question for you.”
“What is it?”
“Have you gone back on the pill?”
“No. Why?”
“Earlier I noticed the patch on your hip was gone. I admit, though, I wasn’t all that lucid at the time.”
Giulia reached under her robe and felt for the patch, first one side of her hip and then the other. “It’s not there. I have no idea when it came off. I’ll be right back.”
Chuck took a cup down and poured steaming coffee into it for her.
“No sign of it,” she said when she came back. “Don’t know when it came off. When we stop at my place, I’ll put on another one to start a new cycle. It should be fine because the hormones stay in my body for a while.”
He handed her the coffee. “How’s the patch different from pills?”
“Not much. Both release certain hormones for three weeks and not for one week—to simulate a woman’s normal cycle. Some programs use blank pills for the fourth week. Makes it easier to take one every day rather than remember to stop and start again. With the patch, you wear it three weeks and leave it off one week.”
“That makes sense.” He looked at his watch. “Can you be ready in ten minutes?”
“Fifteen?” she asked.
* * *
When Giulia saw the tall, blond man lift his bag from the moving carousel, she flinched. She remembered him from the last escort service she’d worked for. In fact, he’d requested her on his second visit. Both times he’d been a total gentleman and made no sexual overtures.
The two big men embraced and pounded each other on the back. “Hey weather man, what’s comin’ at us this year?” Chuck quipped.
Here it comes for me, she thought. No more luxury to debate with myself. He’d know it all today. She straightened her spine and inhaled deeply.
Chuck reached over and pulled her under his arm. “Tom, I want you to meet the most important person in my life, Giulia Cavinato.”
Tom turned to her smiling and stuck out his hand to shake hers then leaned in to look into her eyes. “Don’t I know you?” he said.
She nodded. “You knew me as Juliette back in Eugene. When I was your escort, I had two brown eyes.”
“Ohhh yes. Have to say, I like ’em better this way. I requested you when I went back to hear Dr. Goswami, the ‘guru’ physicist. You live here now?”
Chuck’s mouth was hanging open. “Escort?”
“Yes.” Giulia looked straight at Chuck but couldn’t quite stop tears from welling in her eyes. “I worked for an Escort Service that catered mostly to visiting scholars. After all, the University was the main industry in Eugene.”
“I see,” Chuck said.
Obviously he didn’t. Most people assume an escort service is a cover for prostitutes. Mostly they’re right. Who’d believe a company that did not condone sexual encounters? One look at Chuck’s face and she knew it was over.
“Well,” Chuck said, and swallowed as if his throat was closing on him. Then he seemed to recover and hustled them to their waiting taxi. They climbed in and sped across the lagoon. The two men chatted but Giulia couldn’t hear them. The roar of the boat’s engine and slap of the waves covered their conversation. She was sitting across from them and could barely see them because the sun glared off the water behind them and directly into her eyes. She needed to distance herself anyway. She sighed. Strange how life works. The action she’d taken to get here, was now the reason for her despair.
When they dropped Tom at the side of the Hotel Gritti Palace on the Grand Canal, he said, “Soon as I’m settled in, I’ll call. We can take that long walk you mentioned.”
While the taxi backed again into the Grand Canal, Giulia said, “You can drop me at Ca’ Rezzonico, I’ll walk from there.”
Chuck moved forward to give the pilot instructions. But soon it was clear, they weren’t stopping at Rezzonico. Giulia started to go forward, Chuck held her back. “You’re not escaping so easily, Micina.”
“From the look on your face at the airport, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had dumped me straight into the lagoon.”
; “You think? As I remember, we didn’t finish our talk last night about apartments.” He sighed. “Now we have more to wade through.”
She assumed he meant wading through more of her shit but was too much of a gentleman to voice it. After passing Rezzonico, the water taxi continued following the curve of the backward S up the Grand Canal, aiming toward the Rialto. Just before reaching the bridge, the boat slowed and dipped left into Rio della Madonnetta, slid under a low bridge coming from Campo San Polo, turned right onto Rio di San Cassiano and swerved to stop in front of Chuck’s place. For the pilot, it’d be a quick trip onto the last of the S where, in no time, he’d be in front of the train station waiting for the next fare.
Chuck’s having a hard time. Although I was only arm candy, I had sold myself. Tom might defend her, but Chuck would assume he was saying what he thought Chuck wanted to hear. No doubt, Chuck’s pride had been crushed to think she had fucked Tom, not to mention countless others.
He took her arm and tugged her—gently as always—into the building and up to his apartment. Neither said a word. When they entered, he led her to the living room couch where he sat beside her. “Got a couple questions.”
She couldn’t speak. Her mouth was dry. She now understood when people said their mouth felt full of cotton. Should she give him a list of reasons why what happened years ago had nothing to do with today? She waited, determined not to shed a tear. There’d been enough of those lately.
“Did you fuck Tom?”
“No!”
“That’s what he said. Why do I want to believe you?”
“Because it’s true.”
“Was that creep in Corte Sconta a visiting professor?” he asked with the beginnings of a sneer on his lips.
“No.” Then Giulia collapsed back into herself, thinking, what’s the use?
But then Chuck’s voice softened as if he were trying to pull back from his inquisitorial stance. Maybe he was trying to believe her.
“Talk to me, Giulia. Tell me your story.”
“May I get a glass of water first?”
He nodded and watched her move as she went toward the kitchen. She was wearing that same swirly skirt she’d worn when they’d gone to Sconta with Marc and Marlowe. No boots today, but pale, sexy leather sandals. And with that turquoise top showing a hint of her breasts… God help me, he thought.
She came back with two glasses of cool water. They both drank deeply. Anxiety was thirsty work.
“Okay,” she said. “You know about the dream I’ve had since I was seven.”
He nodded.
She told of working as a waitress before and during undergrad school. It was stressful and didn’t pay much. She received small stipends for graduate work and tutored in Italian but needed more work. Needed the kind of work that wouldn’t take so much energy. For a few hours here and there in the evenings, when her brain was used up anyway, escort work paid much more than waiting tables.
She stopped.
He said nothing but listened in that focused way that left no room for subterfuge. She wasn’t trying to prevaricate anyway. Like lancing that boil on her heel once when she couldn’t afford to go to a doctor, she just wanted to get it all out—pain and all.
“And?” he said.
Giulia described the first service she’d joined with its two levels of pay. He seemed fascinated. She sat up straighter—feeling hopeful—and continued to explain how it worked, wanting him to sympathize.
“Some men signed agreements for Level A—no sex—but a few always thought the rules didn’t apply to them. I had trouble with a couple. One was that horrible man at the restaurant. He was the only time I’d forgotten to wear my brown lens. Soon after him, I quit. Later I heard of a different service that offered only companionship and strictly stated no sex.”
“An escort service offering no sex?”
“Yes. It was called Unique Escort Service. They catered to visitors coming to university conferences who wanted arm candy. It was like the A Level I mentioned. And it paid much more than waitressing.”
“No doubt even visiting dignitaries tried to break the rules, huh?”
“A few. But by then, I was pretty well tuned to recognize them quickly.”
“I just bet you were,” he said.
She heard a snarl in his voice. Her hopes had been high for a few moments, but when she heard that tone, she knew it was over. She couldn’t continue without his trust.
“I sense there’s nothing more I can say.” She started to get up to leave.
The phone rang. Chuck took her hand and tugged her back down.
“Good,” he said into the receiver. “My place is difficult to find. We’ll come to you. What room? Four ten? See you soon.”
“Chuck?”
“Yeah,” he said as he closed his phone.
“You don’t want me along. I’ll bow out rather than go through a charade for Tom’s sake. He’ll understand. He’s a good man.”
“He is that.”
“I’ll pick up a couple things and be out of your. . . life.”
“Giulia?”
She turned back to face him. His eyes were drawn together and a crease of what looked like pain formed between his brows. “Do you want out?”
She took a deep breath and stood as tall as she could. “If you can’t trust me?” She exhaled and felt her body deflate. “Yes.”
He ran his hand through his hair and heaved a sigh. “It’s your past, I know. But it’s a lot to process. I wish,” his voice sounded hoarse, “Lord, I wish you’d told me sooner.”
She nodded crumpling and sat on an ottoman across from the couch. “It’s been weighing on me—”
“I often wondered. From the first, I’ve known a barrier hid part of you. Kept hoping it would come down.”
“Well, it came with a crash today,” she said in a thready voice.
“Thanks to Tom. Were you ever going to tell me?”
“I tried. But one thing or another kept… No. That’s not true. It was me who kept waiting for the perfect time. I didn’t want to lose—”
“I don’t want to lose what we had either,” Chuck said leaning toward her.
“I should go to my place. Give you time to—maybe after Tom leaves—”
“No need for a charade. While Tom’s here, I want you with me.”
“I see,” she said. Her eyes were dull. Her shoulders sagged.
“No, you don’t. What I mean is, I want you with me while he’s here.”
“How is that different?”
“God, I don’t know. Let’s go.” He took her hand and pulled her up. “Maybe I’ll work it out.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Giulia had never been inside the famous Gritti Palazzo, former home of Andrea Gritti, one of the strongest doges, rulers, of old Venice. The silken lobby walls of the hotel shimmered with reflected light from the Grand Canal flowing outside the open door. On the back wall was an excellent copy of a portrait by Titian of Doge Gritti. It was mounted in an ornate gilt frame. From her only trip to the National Gallery in Washington, D. C., she recognized the doge’s proud, fierce face that oozed power.
A large bouquet sat on an ornate table beneath the portrait and hid the lower section of the painting. Would Titian hate having that display of flowers hide any part of his painting? From what Giulia had read about him, he wouldn’t care as long as he’d been paid. He was known for demanding and getting high sums for his portraits of important figures.
Ordinarily, this would have been a thrilling moment for her, but today was not ordinary. Her nerves were frayed. When Chuck and Giulia arrived at Tom’s door, he greeted them with hair damp from the shower. But its bright gold color was barely darkened, and his butterscotch-chocolate brown eyes shown with mischief. For a moment, Giulia was back to being twelve years old at summer camp when the first male she’d ever fantasized over was in charge of the waterfront. Bill Fear—a name engraved in her memory—was gloriously blond with the same teasing brown eyes. Bu
t he was seventeen and absolutely unattainable.
With a grandiose sweep of his arm, Tom welcomed them inside his sitting room which also had silken walls, a glittering chandelier suspended from a high ceiling and large, ornate chairs with bronze, velvet-covered cushions. He snagged Giulia’s hand and swept her to the open window that looked across to Santa Maria della Salute, Saint Mary of Health. The church, together with the former dogana, customs house, overlooked the most picturesque part of the basin and was probably the most photographed of all churches in Venice. To her, it was the most beautiful. Chuck came behind her and said, “What a view.”
Tom looked at Chuck and said, “Yes, she is.” Not one to dance around an issue, he said, “In my usual suave manner, guess I blundered into something, didn’t I? Sorry. Hope it won’t plague the two of you like Pandora’s box.”
“I do too,” Giulia and Chuck said almost simultaneously.
“That sounds hopeful,” Tom said, and his warm brown eyes almost twinkled. “You do know, don’t you, that when she let all the evils into the world, one thing was left lying in a dark corner of that box.”
Chuck and Giulia both seemed too stunned to respond.
“Hope. It was hope!” Silence prevailed. No one spoke. “Listen. You two aren’t obligated to cart me around. You need to be alone to sort things out. I’m a big boy. I can poke around Venice myself.”
“You can, but you won’t. We’ve talked some, and for my part, I could use a break to focus on something else. And you, ol’ buddy are it.” Turning to Giulia, Chuck said, “How about you, love?”
She nodded, speechless. Still shaken by the last two days’ events. Giulia felt as if she’d stepped off a wobbly roller coaster. Dashed to the bottom when Chuck hadn’t answered her calls. Carried to the highest peak by their passionate reunion last night. Then at the airport, the coaster had collapsed.
“I’ve never been to Torcello or to Cipriani’s famous restaurant on that island,” Tom said. “I tried to get a room at that little inn, but it was full. I’m on a generous expense account as you can see from these digs. God, I have to pinch myself. Me, a kid from Poland Street in Detroit in this palazzo on the Grand Canal,” and he spread his arms wide to the view again.
