And she ran. She ran up one of the dual staircases, and then down the other one. Sal was quick too, but he couldn’t outrun her. But the more he ran after her, and saw that tight ass bounce beneath her tight skirt; and the more he saw her big breasts bounce with every step down, the less he tried to overtake her. It wasn’t the fun of it for him, but the view of it. He started enjoying the view.
But the longer she bested him; the longer she ran from room to room downstairs and eventually out onto the grounds, his mood changed. The competitiveness overtook his lustfulness, and he began to overtake her.
By the time they were back inside the empty home, running into the kitchen from the patio, he finally grabbed her so hard from behind that both of them crashed against the massive marble-top center island.
Gemma’s back was to Sal, and his pants-clad dick was ramming into her skirt-clad ass, but he had her now. He had her in a squeezing bear hug. She tried to wiggle free, but he was far too strong and she was far too giddy.
But Sal was serious now. “You think this shit funny?” he asked her as he pressed harder against her, flung up her skirt, and placed his hand inside of her panties so deftly that it seemed like one fluid motion.
But Gemma was still laughing. She was overjoyed. “It is funny!” she proclaimed. “Old man like you trying to do the split!”
He took his fingers and pinched her pussy. She screamed. “Think it’s funny now?” he asked her.
And that one move, more than any other, changed the mood for Gemma. Because after he pinched her, he started massaging her. She had never been able to resist Sal’s touch, and tonight was no exception. Just as filled with giddiness as she was, she was now filled with sensuality. And just as competitive as he was, he was now lusting after her. He wanted her right here and right now. Alone. In their new home.
And he took her.
He took his free hand from around her and turned her face as far toward him as he could turn it, and he began kissing her as he massaged her. Her eyes were closed as he kissed her, and he stared at her dark and lovely face. What always made it special for Sal was the fact that it was Gemma. Her toughness, her intellect, her sweetness: all were turn-ons for Sal. And her body. No woman could match it. Her kiss always felt more sensual to him. Her pussy always felt more silky to him. He fucked women all his life. Fucked some until they nearly passed out. But it wasn’t just animalistic when he was with Gemma. It was soulful. It was deeper than deep.
And that was what he wanted now: to go deep down on her.
He backed off, and removed her skirt and her panties, and then her blouse and bra too. As she turned around, her breasts bouncing with the turn, he began undressing himself. By the time he stepped out of his briefs, revealing his ultra-serious erection, they both were naked and beyond ready.
He lifted her and laid her lengthwise onto the wide center island. His plan was to immediately get on top of her. But his breath caught when he saw her beautiful black body on that countertop: her taut breasts; her flat stomach; her long, slender legs. And when he opened those legs, and saw that silky sweetness, he knew his dick would have to wait a little longer.
He slid her down, horizontally, toward the edge of the countertop, and with his own body waiting at the edge, he moved in between her legs. And began to lick her.
Her chest lifted off of the counter with his very first lick. It felt like a spark of electricity to her. When his tongue began to move in deeper, and she felt his movement on every ridge of her pussy, her breathing became labored. But when he opened her folds as wide as they could be opened, and he began to eat her, she thought she was going to faint.
She screamed with a kind of unbridled joy as he ate her with a gusto that wasn’t pretending to be a tease. It was the real thing. He wasn’t going easy or soft. He was going hard. And Gemma’s body was reacting to his hardness with a hard scream, with a guttural release of elation of her own.
He looked up at her. He was already sweating. He was already breathing especially hard. “Ready?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she said, her voice even more breathless than his.
“Get in place for me,” he ordered her. And she moved her body back up onto the countertop. As soon as she did, as soon as she was back in place, he didn’t waste another second. He got on top of her, put his dick inside of her, and began to fuck her long, slow, and hard.
Gemma wrapped her arms around him as he made passionate love to her. His penis was in a rhythm as soon as it entered her, moving in and out of her womanhood with the mastery of a Bolshoi ballet, and the fluidness of oil. He floated inside of her. He made her feel that everywhere his dick slid, it was hitting her special place. It was a rhythm all his own. It was a feeling he gave her that no man ever could. A feeling of control, and danger, and excitement all rolled into every stroke he took. It was his rhythm. And he stayed in that rhythm the entire time he fucked her.
Sal held her face with his hands and kissed her on the mouth as he did her. He was heady with sensuality. He was moving his body all over her, and sliding his dick deep inside of her, and kissing the sides of her face, her ears, her mouth again so hard that she could barely breathe.
They were alone in their new home. Alone in their new palace. Enjoying the sound of their music. Their love music. His balls slapped the bottom of her ass like the sound of the drum. His pre-cum mixed with her vaginal juices like the bass of a guitar. And when they came it was like cymbals in their ears. It stopped the show cold.
He rammed into her and began to jerk. She lifted up against him and began to throb. Their movements stopped, but the sound of those cymbals still rang in their ears. Because they were cumming in a way they had never cum before. It wasn’t just the feeling of the cum, but the emotions behind that feeling. This was their new home. This was their new life. This was them together. They came long, and they came hard.
But later, when Sal drove Gemma’s BMW onto the driveway of her home, he felt as if his peace was about to be shattered. It wasn’t just that an SUV was parked on the driveway. Although that was surprising too.
“Expecting somebody?” he asked Gemma as he stopped beside the SUV.
“No,” Gemma replied. “You know I’m not.” Then she saw them on her porch. “Mom and Dad?”
“Your parents? Where?”
“There,” Gemma said, motioning toward her porch.
Sal looked too. And his heart began to pound. “Oh, Lord,” he said, as he placed the car in Park. “What now?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sal turned off the ignition, got out of the car, and walked around to the passenger side of Gemma’s car. He had a bad feeling about this unexpected visit. It wasn’t going to be pleasant. Maybe that former field director for the FBI, that new found friend of Rodney Jones, had told Gemma’s father about Sal’s detention yesterday. “The FBI picked Sal Gabrini up,” that ex-agent might have told Gemma’s old man. And already he was here. Ready, Sal believed, to put a stop to what he probably viewed as a farce of an engagement.
“What’s wrong with you?” Gemma asked as he helped her out of the car.
And just like that, Sal felt defensive. “Whatta you mean what’s wrong with me?”
“Why are you looking like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like a man in the electric chair, Sal. All nervous like that!”
“What nervous?” Sal placed his hand in the small of her back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t get nervous.”
Gemma didn’t respond to that. Because she knew him.
And she was right. Sal wasn’t as nervous as a man on death row, he was beyond that man’s nervousness. Because he knew these parents of Gemma’s held the wildcard. They could come with an ultimatum. Gemma had to dump him as her potential husband, they could say, or they’d dump her as a daughter. No child of theirs, they could declare, was marrying a thug like Sal.
By the time they stepped onto the porch, Sal was downright terrified.
“Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?” Gemma asked her parents in a way that sounded almost suspicious to Sal. Which was heartbreaking too. In the past, whenever she used to see her parents, she would be thrilled to see them. She would be overjoyed. But now she was suspicious of their motives?
Rodney and Cassie Jones were sitting on their daughter’s front porch. It hurt both of them a little bit to see her reaction to their presence, but they both understood it.
“We came to see you,” Rodney said. “And Sal.”
Sal hated to hear that. He really did. But he didn’t delay. He went to Gemma’s front door and unlocked it. So that they could at least go inside. So that this confrontation would not be broadcast.
And as soon as they got settled down in Gemma’s small living room, with Gemma and her parents on the sofa, and Sal seated in the flanking chair, Sal had made up his mind. But his instincts told him to wait. To hear the man out. To hear Rodney’s ultimatum, and then give his own.
But at first there was nothing but silence. As if nobody really wanted to go there. But Sal maintained his cool. He had to hear what he was up against first, before he could even began to set the man straight. And his patience paid off. Rodney got the ball rolling. Rodney started talking.
“When we spoke to Gemma a couple days ago,” Rodney said, “she mentioned that you and she were going to close on a house today. Did you close?”
Sal nodded. “Yes,” he said. One of the happiest days of his life.
“I’ll bet it’s beautiful,” Cassie said with a smile that was warm, but strained.
Gemma nodded. “It is, Mom,” she replied. “Sal gives me the best.”
Rodney cleared his throat. “Which brings us to why we’re here,” he said. “I heard about the arrest.”
“He wasn’t charged with any crime,” Gemma pointed out.
“Oh, Gemma, don’t do that!” Rodney yelled. “He was arrested!”
“He was detained for questioning, but he wasn’t charged. Now that may be a distinction without a different to you, Dad, but it is a difference.”
Rodney ran his hand across his low-cut hair. “Okay,” he said. “He was detained. That sounds better for you?” Rodney calmed back down. “The point is,” he said, “it upset your mother and I in a very profound way.”
“It made us realize,” Cassie said, “the kind of life our little girl is going to be living from here on out.”
“It’s scary,” Rodney admitted. “I cannot pretend how terrified just the thought of it makes us. My daughter is involved with a man, is talking about marrying a man, with an FBI profile. With connections to the FBI.”
“Connections to the FBI?” Gemma asked as if she couldn’t believe her father. “What FBI connections? He was detained for questioning by the FBI, Dad. That’s all that happened yesterday.”
“But that’s not where his connections began,” Rodney said. “I know that! So stop trying to behave as if this stuff isn’t serious, because it is, Gemma Jones. It’s deadly serious!”
Rodney said those words and shook the room. He and Sal looked at each other. The two men who loved Gemma most in the world had a stare-down. Because they knew his words were true. Gemma and her mother may not have fully appreciated the seriousness, but Sal and Rodney absolutely did.
“Since you closed on a house together,” Rodney said, “I have to presume this marriage is still on.”
“It’s still on,” Sal responded, feeling even more defensive. “No devil in hell is going to stop it. We’re going to get married.”
Rodney nodded, still staring at Sal. “No matter how anybody else feels about it?”
“That’s right,” Sal said firmly. “In fact,” he added, “I have a confession to make.”
Rodney and Cassie looked at Sal with anxious eyes. What else, they wondered. Gemma was looking at Sal too. What more, she wondered.
“A confession?” Rodney asked. “What kind of confession?”
“I have to confess, Mr. Jones, that I lied to you.”
Gemma’s heart pounded. She looked at Sal. “You lied to him?”
“I lied to you,” Sal repeated, his eyes never leaving Rodney’s eyes.
Rodney exhaled. “And what is it that you lied about?”
“I told you that if you refused to continue to have a good relationship with Gemma, the marriage would be off. I wouldn’t marry her if her relationship with you suffered.”
“You said that,” Rodney said. “That’s right.”
“I lied,” Sal said. “I’m making Gemma Jones my wife.”
Gemma stared at him. Rodney and Cassie were riveted too.
“If you choose to end your relationship with her,” Sal continued, “it’ll be an awful thing. A painful thing for her on every level, I’m positive it will be. And she’ll probably hate me a little because of it.”
“Sal,” Gemma started, but Sal wasn’t backing down.
“She’ll hate me a little,” he said again. “But it won’t stop me from making her my family. She’s the one I want to be my wife. She’s the one I want to be the mother of my children. You undoubtedly came here to give her some ultimatum. You undoubtedly want to make it clear to her of your displeasure with a man like me. And if she was my daughter, I would probably be doing the same thing.”
It hurt Sal to admit it, but he admitted it.
“Look, Salvatore,” Rodney said, “I’m not trying to pile on you. But I have a duty to my daughter.”
“I understand that.”
“I have to tell it like it is in these matters. You have a past, and I’m not even sure if it’s completely passed yet. I have to protect my daughter.”
“I understand that too. And I’m sure in your mind a serial killer is more suitable for your daughter than I am.”
Gemma’s heart broke. “Oh, Sal,” she said.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Rodney said.
“But it’s the same principle,” Sal said. “And you’d be right.”
Rodney frowned. “I’d be right?”
“I’m not a good man,” Sal admitted. “Gemma thinks I’m this prince, but I’m not. I’d have to work at being the frog.”
Gemma smiled, although she was pained too.
“I’m a ruthless man,” Sal went on. “I sometimes have to do things that . . . a good man shouldn’t have to do.”
Rodney waited for the but. None came from Sal.
“What are you saying?” Rodney asked him.
“I love your daughter and I have every intention of marrying her. Giving her back to you is not an option. She’s with me now. I’m her responsibility now. What you don’t know, what nobody seems to understand, is that I’ve had a heart transplant. And it’s in Gemma now.”
Cassie covered her mouth and fought back tears.
“There’s no turning back for me,” Sal said. “If Gemma will continue to want to be with me, she’s going to be with me. No matter what.”
“Good,” Cassie found herself saying.
Rodney and Gemma both, and Sal too, looked at her.
“Gemma,” Cassie said as she took her daughter’s hand, “your father used to dream that one day you’d marry this perfect man. And I mean perfect. He had to be an African-American. He had to have the right job and resume. He had to have the right college credentials and family background. And he had to be great looking on top of all of that.”
Gemma smiled. Sal and Rodney were staring at Cassie.
Cassie continued. “I went along with your father’s dream for you. I went along with it. But that was never my dream. I didn’t care about his race. I didn’t care if he was a banker or a baker. I didn’t care if he went to college or barely graduated high school, to tell you the truth. My dream for you was that he treated you right. My dream was that he loved you with all his heart and never cheated on you and never caused you a moment’s grief. He didn’t even have to be a good man in the way the world defined good. He just had to be good to you.”
Gemma placed her ar
m around her mother. Cassie looked at Sal. “You’re good to my daughter, Salvatore. Even a blind man can see that. You have my blessing. Marry her. Have your way with her. She’s yours.”
Sal stood to his feet, hurried to his future mother-in-law, and pulled her up and into a big bear hug. Gemma stood up too, smiling and crying at the same time. She rubbed her mother’s back.
Sal pulled back, and looked at Cassie. “Just so I’m sure I heard you right,” he said. “You said I have your blessing?”
Cassie smiled. “That’s exactly what I said. And I’m going to help with the preparations too. My youngest daughter is getting married in style. I’m excited!”
“Welcome to the club,” Sal said. “Sometimes I get so happy I have to slap myself. Cool it, Sal. Ease the hell up! I have to tell myself these things.”
Cassie laughed as Rodney stood up too. But instead of joining in with the gaiety, he headed for the front door. “I’ll wait for you outside,” he said to his wife.
But Gemma broke away from the others, and hurried behind her father. She caught up with him as he stepped outside and was walking toward the steps. She grabbed him by the arm, and turned him around.
“Why can’t you be happy for me, Daddy?” she asked him. She truly didn’t understand his reluctance. She truly didn’t understand his selfishness.
“I can’t deny what’s staring me in the face,” Rodney responded, the pain in his eyes.
“What’s staring you in the face? What is it?”
“Marrying that man,” he said, “may mean a death sentence for you, Gemma.”
“Yes,” Gemma said, nodding her head. “It may very well mean death for me. Sal is not your run-of-the-mill man. It could mean death. But I know it’ll mean life for me. The only life I want to live. I’m happy with Sal. I feel more protected with him than I would with a thousand bodyguards surrounding me. I’m asking you to be happy for me. I’m asking you to realize what kind of woman you raised and know that you didn’t raise her to be foolish. I know what I’m doing. I know what I want. I’m going for it, Dad. You with me, or not with me. But I’m going for it.”
Sal Gabrini 4: I'll Take You There (The Gabrini Men Series Book 7) Page 15
