by Mynx, Sienna
“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.” Fabiana walked into the parlor. He turned and forced a smile. Seeing her did help. She was the only ray of hope in the sea of shit he found himself swimming in. He drew her into his arms and kissed her.
“Forgive me. I was on my way to find you.”
“Are you okay? You were gone when I woke this morning. And last night, you seemed stressed.”
Lorenzo wiped his jaw nervously. Her questions were wearing on his already frazzled nerves. He would normally never speak of his problems with a woman, but he desperately needed someone in his corner. “The day is ours. No more business. I plan to treasure you.” He brushed her lips with his. “Over and over and over again.” He felt her relax against him, and damn if she didn’t smell as beautiful as she looked. The woman was a dream. When he released her from another kiss, she held on to him.
“You need something, Lorenzo. I feel it. Trust me, talk to me. What is it?”
“I made a mistake once, and it cost me my soul.”
“Sweetheart.” She stroked the side of his face. “How?”
“I’m trying to fix it, Fabiana, but it may be too late.” Lorenzo sighed.
“I’ll help you Lorenzo, any way that I can.”
“You can’t.”
“Listen to me. You have a soul, it’s why I won’t stop believing in you.”
Giovanni walked into the parlor and stopped. He studied his cousin and Fabiana for a moment. Mira at his side, he kept his cool in check. Today at the lake he wasn’t waiting on his American bella. He was waiting on Lorenzo. “I need to speak with you.”
“Can it wait?” Lorenzo pressed a kiss to his woman’s neck. Her presence strengthened him more than he expected. He gazed down into her lovely face and reassured her with a smile. “Thank you.” He mouthed to her.
Lorenzo gave him a nod and then kissed Fabiana once more on the lips, before whispering something in her ear. She drifted from his arms and headed to Mira. The ladies gave them curious glances before they left. Giovanni drew both of the large doors shut for privacy. It was just after ten in the morning, and his cousin was on his second bottle of wine.
“What have I done now?” Lorenzo asked.
“Where were you?”
“Out.” he replied, taking a drink and then pouring another. Giovanni observed. Lorenzo glanced back after the answering silence. He lowered his glass. “No disrespect. I didn’t want to trouble you.”
Giovanni waited.
“Giuseppe Calderone has defied his father. He’s working with the Nigerians or the Albanians, not sure, but I do believe he’s started moving products through Genoa. I know you have meetings with Don Calderone during your visit. I wanted to make sure none of this could be tied to the family.”
“You’re lying.”
Lorenzo sucked in a tight breath through clenched teeth. “It’s the fucking truth. I need to be on top of it. Right? That’s what I do. That’s all I do in this family. Shovel shit to clear the path for the new Battaglia.”
“I know when you’re lying to me.”
“I lost Isabella’s. Francesco, the freak, is dead. This cripples me.” He slammed his hand against his chest. “I have my own aspirations cousin. My own! Now I have to figure how to begin from ashes. I was trying to get ahead of you. To prove to you that I’m trustworthy. My lead fell through. Giuseppe never showed.”
Earlier another meeting with Don Calderone came to a premature end. The old man was furious that his son missed the event. Lorenzo could be telling the truth. His gut churned. Something felt off.
“What have I done to have you treat me like the enemy? A mistake. The raid was not my fault. And if you say it was, fine. It’s still not my greatest sin.”
“Then confess. Tell me your sins. I’m ready to listen.”
Lorenzo paled.
“Nothing more to say?”
“My sin is being born to Isabella Battaglia. To being second in everything you and I do. I need you to recognize my place in this family. I need you to trust me.”
Giovanni grabbed Lorenzo by the face. “It’s the hand we were both dealt. It’s time for you to get over it. When Papa died and you brought me the Russian scum that pulled the trigger, I knew our brotherhood was destiny. But if I ever find out that you have betrayed me, I will treat you like an enemy. You are my blood. Capsici? I love you above all else, but never, ever, mistake that love for weakness.” Lorenzo grabbed his wrists, struggling against the crushing hold Giovanni applied. He forced his cousin’s head to lower and pressed a kiss to his brow. “You and me forever.” Giovanni released him. He stepped back with disgust. Before Lorenzo made him act on his suspicions, he walked out.
****
The night ended too soon. Mira joined him for another walk under the moon. She shared some of her life with him. How she struggled in New York, why she thinks Italia would be so different. And like a gentleman he walked her to her room and bid her goodnight.
Giovanni closed his eyes. Lorenzo’s words returned to the center of his thoughts. Could he have something to do with Giuseppe Calderone’s disappearing act? Possibly. But to have done so and not tell him caused Giovanni even more concern. His cousin would never be foolish enough to weaken their bond and family this way unless there was something he had to cover up. He would never force his hand. And Giovanni could never face his father on judgment day and tell him he executed his cousin for such a betrayal. It would prove him weak and pathetic as his enemies believed his Irish blood mixed in with his Sicilian had made him. He exhaled noisily. Lying upon the bedcovers with his ankles crossed, hands behind his head, and Danny-boy, his gun, resting over to his left, he couldn’t summon sleep.
What about her?
At the base of his throat a pulse beat and swelled as though his heart had lodged itself there. What about me? The sweetest voice whispered in his ear. She eased over him, her hot channel pressed down hard on the sweltering tightness that was his groin. And she was nude. Her lovely breasts were a man’s size, each more than a mouthful but a perfect fit for his hands. She raised her arms above her head and rolled her hips. The slender line of her flat belly under her heaving breasts made him rise for the occasion. He took her breast as a babe would, and she stroked the back of his head with a soft caress. That’s right sweetie, I’m here for you. Giovanni sat up. He had drifted to sleep. His hand went to his erection, pointed north in his pajama pants. He groaned.
No sex? Bullshit. He was out of the bed and crossing the room to the door in nothing but black drawstring pajama pants. He stepped into the silent dark hall. The man seated outside was wide-awake. He averted his gaze when Giovanni emerged. It was a good thing because he did nothing to conceal his erection. Mira’s door was closed. Touching the knob sent a charge of lust through him and dismissed any doubts he should wait for an invitation. The knob turned in his hand softly, and he found it unlocked. A smile spread over his lips, and he felt the tension in his chest relax. Quiet and careful, he pushed it open slowly then slipped inside. The bed swallowed her, as did the coverlet tucked around her form. She slept on her side. Her hair was behind a checkered silk scarf; the slender strawberry red strap of her camisole could be seen half lowered on her shoulder.
It was only a dream. She hadn’t come to him as she did the night before. He should turn and let her sleep. Honor her wish to court her, earn the right to be in her bed. He sucked down a breath and willed himself to do so but couldn’t move. He felt trapped between his raw need to have her and his desire to win her trust and heart. It again dawned on him the power women could wield over a man. His father was no saint. His father’s crimes against his mother were unforgiveable. Still deep in his core he understood the madness that made his father snatch his mother from her world and keep her with him always. Slowly he untied the knot of his drawstring and loosened the waistband to his pajama pants. They dropped to his feet. He eased back the coverlet and slipped in bed with her. Mira didn’t stir. She remained on her side with her ba
ck to him. Why did she cover her lovely thick hair under a scarf for sleeping?
His lips brushed her shoulder. She responded by scooting back, directly into him. He felt her stiffen with recognition. Wiping her eyes she turned and blinked at him in the dark.
“What’s going on? Giovanni?”
Giovanni brushed his lips across her mouth and spoke three words: “I need you.”
He needs me? Mira tried to rise but he was easing over her. She was awake, her thighs parting, and his lips brushing hers, then her neck and lower. She pushed at his shoulders with her hands, but he was unmovable. His face lifted from staring at her body in the camisole beneath him, and those eyes of his impaled her. She softened to his touch, relaxed. “Something wrong?”
“Ti penso sempre.”
The translation was simple. He’s always thinking of me. He said it on their walk. He said it again when he walked her to her room. And God, help her but it was true. She was always thinking of him. “I can hold you—” Her voice faded when she felt the blunt tip of his desire press in on her. She bowed her back to lower her pelvis and slow down the momentum building between them. “Wait,” she pleaded. Her nipple escaped from the front of her camisole into his mouth. “Mmm,” she moaned.
He entered her with one strong thrust. His thickness filled her to capacity. She rolled her hips in response and felt a coiling tension tighten and cinch the inner walls of her tummy. She breathed deeply while he flexed his knees, thrusting in a faster rhythm. Mira bit down on her lip, squeezing her eyes shut from the pleasure tickling up through her pelvis. Giovanni held onto her hip and directed the way she responded, and matched what pleased them both.
Melting warmth drew him deeper. His teeth ground together as he flexed and pumped his hips rapidly to drive himself deeper into her. Her channel hotly fit him like a wet glove, which got tighter and tighter. There was no stopping. He knew he was a demanding lover. He’d had girlfriends in the past complain about his appetite. She never did. His breathing harsh against her ear, he quickened his pace and prayed she’d forgive his rough manner. He dropped his head and bit her shoulder to hold on. Her flesh was soft and sweet in his mouth; he balled his fists tight to keep from hurting her and breaking skin. His balls were so tight now they ached, as did every muscle in the back of his thighs, buttocks, and along his pelvis.
“Oh!” She cried out, and he summoned more control. Slowing his thrusts to push her closer to bliss and not the frenzied madness swirling in his head, everything shattered, including him.
Giovanni’s face was pressed into the pillow to the side of her head. He struggled to summon his breath. She soothed him by running both hands up and down his back.
“Giovanni,” she wheezed.
Immediately, he shifted his weight. Giovanni, however, couldn’t release her nor escape the warmth they generated under the covers. This was the closest he’d been to heaven in a long time. The beautiful woman in his arms smiled up at him. Her scarf slipped back to reveal the natural wavy texture of the roots of her hair. He touched her face and kissed the tiny mole to the left of her nose on her cheek. “You amaze me. I could stay like this. Forever.”
“Mmm, me too,” she agreed. She elevated her hips a bit beneath him. Reluctant, but concerned over her discomfort, he withdrew, semi-erect, and dropped over to his left side. Mira’s hand went to the bruise on her shoulder, and he felt a pang of regret.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
She smiled and shook her head no, and then bolted right up. “Dammit, we didn’t use protection.”
Giovanni reached and grabbed the scarf to pull it free of her hair. He tossed it to the floor. “Why do you wear this?”
Without a word, she escaped the bed and hurried to her bathroom. Unlike his room, her drapes were open. Moonlight bathed over her flawless body when she escaped him. He had only a glimpse of the lush curve of her backside. Touching himself under the covers, he wished his dick could get hard again, but this time she had drained him dry. He listened as water ran until his lids felt heavy with fatigue. The exhaustion of the day returned, and he felt himself slip under its pull.
“Giovanni?”
A warm wet cloth wiped over his dick. He squinted up at her. She wore a robe and again tied her hair down in a silk scarf. Mira completed her task then folded the rag and set it aside. “Come to me.” He reached for her before she fully turned away. She joined him under the covers without resistance.
“Are you okay? Earlier, things got a bit intense,” she said, her voice meek, almost shy of the hard edged woman she liked to portray. Giovanni didn’t answer. He really was in no mood to talk. Instead he brought her body to his and curled around her curves until his leg was over her thighs and his face was buried in the sweet cushion of her breasts. She said a few more things. Talked of how an ex-lover never made her feel this desired, things he catalogued for future reference. After listening and enjoying the melody of her voice and rapidly beating heart, he grunted a response. Sleep had never been this welcomed.
Fresh and re-energized Mira turned over with a smile on her face. She reached for her lover to find he had already gone. Her eyes flipped open. It was becoming a nasty habit. Here one minute and gone the next. She shook her head and expelled a deep frustrated breath. A sharp sting ripped through her left shoulder and she touched the tenderness. Things had gotten out of hand with them last night. He kept apologizing through the night for the bite. Though the pain was numb and not really too discomforting, the desperation in his lovemaking made her worry. The knocking at her door drew her attention. She soon realized it was the knocking that brought her out of her sleep. She covered herself and sat up on her pillows.
“Come in.”
“Morning sleepy head.”
“Morning,” she yawned.
“Get up,” Fabiana said. She waved car keys in front of her. “The men had a meeting this morning, so I have the keys to the Spider. It’s cuter than the Ferrari. Let’s go have some fun.”
“No Fabiana, I’m exhausted.” Mira rolled away.
“Giovanni said you were.”
Mira frowned. She looked back over her shoulder at her grinning friend. Fabiana nodded. “He told me to let you sleep in. Oh and get this. He announces that we’re going to his villa in Sorrento. You’re okay with this?”
“The man sure does think he knows what I want,” she rolled her eyes.
“Uh oh, somebody is a grumpy puss!” Fabiana teased.
“Where is he gone to now? Every night he’s here, but I swear the man must be allergic to the sun because once it’s up he’s gone.” She snapped her finger. “Just like that.”
Fabiana shrugged. “He had one of his goons wake up Lorenzo over an hour ago and demand he get dressed to come with him.”
Mira gave up. She sat back on to her pillows and removed her headscarf. “Oh.”
“Come on girl! If we’re leaving today, let’s go out and have a bit of fun.” Fabiana stopped at the side of the bed and picked up her tossed aside camisole. “Unless you’re too tired for fun?”
Mira snatched the garment from her, suppressing a smile.
“Would you please leave? I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour.”
“Mira? What happened to your shoulder?” Fabiana asked.
Instinctively, her hand shot up to cover the bruise. “Nothing. Nothing.”
“That’s not nothing, let me see.” Fabiana reached and snatched her hand down. She leaned in closer to inspect it. “Well, it looks like a hickey, but it… does it hurt?”
Mira sighed. “No. We had sex, and things got a bit rough.”
“Rough sex?” Fabiana nose wrinkled.
Quickly, Mira tried to cover. “I’m fine. Giovanni is a bit much to handle when he’s worked up. It wasn’t intentional.”
Fabiana stared at her for a moment, and Mira held her breath waiting. Her friend smiled. “If you’re cool with it, then okay. Now c’mon and get dressed. I can’t wait to get behind this car.” She waved the keys
and walked out.
Mira released the breath she held and dropped back onto the pillows. Last night he was in pain and sought solace within her arms; she knew that. Touching her shoulder, she wondered about the dark side of her lover and wanted to know what tormented him. A softer memory surfaced. She remembered his kiss and smiled. She thought she was dreaming, but she was almost certain he kissed her this morning before he left.
****
Giovanni sat silently next to Lorenzo. The car held the curvy road that sloped upward into the mountains. It was a wet slick morning; the countryside glistened from the remnants of a fresh rain. His gaze remained trained on the passing landscape. He didn’t know what possessed him last night. His hand clenched into a fist. He should have more control over his emotions, over himself. He closed his eyes and remembered how she held him. How soft and sweet her breath was against his chest when she slept in his arms. And the way she made love to him, tamed him. He had to get a grip on his desires for her. He couldn’t trust it to last.
“I wanted to be included.” Lorenzo’s voice was tight and hoarse, demolishing his thoughts. He opened his eyes and glanced over at his cousin.
“I think it best you and Giuseppe explain what ties you have.”
“Giuseppe? Ties? We have none.”
“Then there should be no problem with you facing him today?” Giovanni asked with a raised brow.
Lorenzo shook his head. “I can’t stand the runt.”
“Are you sure cousin? Now is the time to tell me anything you have now. I don’t want any surprises. Do you understand? Don’t let me walk into this meeting unprepared.”
