But his need to feel her breasts in his mouth caused him to pull her down further so that his mouth and her breasts could connect. And the connection was as electrifying as his penis in her pussy. They both felt the spark.
Trina especially began to moan when Reno sucked her. She was feeling the heat from her top and her bottom. And she rode him harder. She rode him so hard that she began to have a hard, thunderous orgasm.
It was so thunderous that Reno began to cum too. He stopped sucking her breasts, grabbed her by the catch of her ass, and took over the stroking. She was now still, and his cock was pounding into her.
She cried out as he pounded her.
He clenched his entire body as he showered her with his love deep inside of her. His cream shot out and spilled all over her. If Trina had not been on birth control, she was convinced they would have had a child every time they came like this. Because they were cumming hard. They were gelling only the way longtime lovers could. And Reno, whose sexual appetite was massive, kept pounding her.
When he finally had his full, and finally had filled her beyond her capacity to hold all of his cum, his strokes began to ease.
But he kept holding her, and kept stroking her with achingly slow, occasional strokes, until they both had forgotten about Gianni Drake, about Jimmy’s mess, about that carnival ride from hell and anything or anybody else, and fell asleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
After the weekend, on Monday morning, Reno left his Vegas estate to head to the PaLargio on the Strip. But on his way, he stopped his Porsche at the curb in front of his favorite sidewalk fruit stand, and got out of the car. In his tailored suit and shades, he walked up to the stand, grabbed a juicy peach, and reached into his pocket to pay.
“How are you, Reno?” Poker Lansky, the owner, said.
“I’m good,” Reno said, handing him a buck. “But I hear you aren’t.”
Poker looked at Reno. He should have known he didn’t just stop by, not on a work day. He didn’t usually see Reno until the weekend. “You heard that, hun?”
“I heard somebody’s trying to put you out of business.” Reno knew Poker’s business. And it had little to do with selling fruit. The fruit stand was a front. His main enterprise was being the eyes and ears for casino guys like Reno. He was their man on the street. He was on Reno’s payroll, and on the payroll of many of the other casino owners in town, just like their other employees. And like Reno’s other employees, he looked out for him.
Poker glanced around, and then leaned forward. “They wanna shut me down, Reno.”
Reno looked at him. “Who?” he asked.
“Some joker I don’t even know. They call him Deeve Carney.”
Reno frowned. “Who the fuck is that?”
“I don’t know! I told you I don’t even know the guy.”
“He showed his face around here?” Reno asked.
“Yeah. Some punk bastard,” Poker said. “He said I can talk all I want now. Give all the 411 I want. But when it all goes down I was to keep my trap shut or I won’t have a trap to shut.”
Reno was confused. “When what goes down?” he asked. “What was he talking about?”
Poker shook his head. “Damn if I know. But something’s up. I don’t know what. But something’s up.”
“Did he mention anybody by name? Me, for instance?”
“No,” Poker said. “He just directed all of his threats at me.”
“And why didn’t you come to me with this information, Poke?”
“Because I got this,” Poker said. “Because I wish that joker would try to shut me down. I told him that. I told him he come for me he’s gonna have a war on his hands.”
Reno hated it when weaklings like Poker threw around threats and then expected powerhouses like him to clean up their mess. “What did he say?” he asked.
“He said nothing. He just laughed and walked away as if I was kidding around.”
Reno’s mind was reeling with possibilities. Then he wiped the peach off on his suit and took a big bite. “When did this guy first started harassing you?” he asked.
“A few days ago. That’s why I was surprised you found out so fast. I was gonna tell you when I saw you again. But I’m a big boy, Reno. I can fight my battles.”
Reno noticed a familiar face. “Then fight’em, motherfucker,” he said almost absently as he looked toward the sidewalk café next door to Poker’s stand.
Poker smiled. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “We go way back, Reno.”
It appeared to be Gemma Jones-Gabrini, his cousin Sal’s wife, with another man. They were sitting at a table outside the café, sipping their drinks and laughing and talking. Reno pulled his shades further down on his nose and glanced at them over the top rim. When he was certain it was indeed Gemma, he forgot about Poker and made his way toward the café.
“See you around, Reno!” Poker yelled after him. Reno threw up his hand, but kept walking.
He was practically upon them when Gemma bothered to look away from the guy she was talking with and up at Reno. She smiled her big, bright white smile and stood up. That smile, against her smooth black skin, and that tall, statuesque body of hers, always gave Reno a rise. She was stunning, he thought.
“Reno!” she said gaily and opened her arms. She and Reno hugged, and Reno gave her a kiss.
“What are you doing here?” she asked when they stopped embracing.
Reno showed her the peach. “What are you doing here?” he asked her, but he was looking entirely at her table mate. It was usually Sal messing up in their marriage, not Gemma.
“Business meeting,” Gemma said, sitting back down. “This is Cortez Wilson.” The black man stood up and shook Reno’s hand. “He’s one of our newest franchisees. He can’t make the meetings we have scheduled later this week, so he came to Vegas so that I could fill him in personally.”
But Reno was perplexed. “One of your franchisees?” he asked. “You mean for your law firm?”
Gemma smiled. “I wish. No, for Champagne’s.” Champagne’s was a high-end clothing store owned by Gemma and Reno’s wife Trina. Then Gemma realized something profound. “You know, right?” she asked.
He didn’t know, but he wasn’t telling her that. “How many is it now?” he asked.
“Thirty so far,” Gemma said. “But we hope to have twenty more on board by the end of the year. Fifty in all. I know, we’re crazy, right?”
Reno smiled. Inwardly he was seething. “Your words,” he said.
Gemma and Cortez laughed.
Then Reno, out of the corner of his eye, saw the vehicle approaching. It wasn’t that it was an unusual automobile. It wasn’t. But it was creeping along. It had tinted windows. Poker Lansky was already being threatened. Reno always had a target on his back. There were too many factors. Reno was not a man to take any chances. He kept his eyes trained on that car.
And when the tinted window began to roll down, and he saw just the very tip of a rifle, he sprang into action. “Get down, Poke!” he yelled with all he had, and then dived over the table, knocking Gemma and her associate down to the ground as gunfire erupted. He didn’t know if they were shooting at him, at Poker, at Gemma, or at some random in the area. But he covered Gemma with his body the same way he knew Sal, in this same situation, would cover Trina.
But whomever the gunman was targeting, it ended so fast Reno had only just pulled out his own weapon. When he heard the sound of screeching tires speeding off, he got up. Gemma and her associate were not hit. But Poker Lansky was.
Reno ran to his side, saw that the bullet wounds were too much and he was already dead, and then jumped back into his Porsche and took off after the getaway car.
He drove through the streets of Vegas like a man searching for his mortal enemy. He saw the car turn a corner two blocks up, and turned the corner one block up. He was going to cut him off at the pass. But by the time he arrived at the end of the street, the car had already blown through that intersectio
n and was long gone. Reno had lost him. He angrily hit his steering wheel. The person who killed Poker might have had nothing to do with Gianni Drake’s sudden reemergence in Reno’s life. But he didn’t know. That was the bad part. He just didn’t know!
CHAPTER TWELVE
The store hadn’t opened yet when Reno knocked on its door. Trina was behind the counter along with Oprah, her young store manager, when they looked up and saw him outside. Most of the salesclerks were already there too, getting their stations together, and one of them, Jameila, headed for the door.
“I’ve got it,” Oprah said, stopping Jameila, and went and opened the door herself.
“Good morning, Mr. Gabrini,” Oprah said happily as Reno walked in.
“Hey, Ope, how you doing?”
“Good. Come on in!”
Reno was still reeling from Poker’s death as he made his way toward the back counter. Poker was a lot of things, but he didn’t deserve what he got. He didn’t deserve to be gunned down like that.
Reno had urged Gemma not to tell Trina about the incident. At least not until he had a chance to tell her. She agreed. Besides, Poker Lansky was the least of his problems at this point.
Trina was behind the counter, working feverishly on the computer. “Hey, babe,” she said, without looking away from the computer screen. “What’s up?”
“I just witnessed a drive-by,” he said.
Trina was surprised. She looked at him. “You were there? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Reno responded. “I wasn’t the target.”
“Who was?”
“Some fruit stand vendor got it between the eyes. But everybody was okay. Gemma was in the area too.”
“Gemma?” Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Like I said, that vendor was the target.”
Trina studied him. “You knew the vendor?”
Reno nodded.
“Are you sure it wasn’t you---”
“I’m positive, Tree. Some guy’s been shaking him down. He told me so himself. This was just a part of that.”
“And you’re sure you’re okay?”
But Reno, his shades on the top of his head, didn’t come to Champagne’s to discuss Poker Lansky. He had his men on the case, searching for Deeve Carney and anybody else who might be involved. There was nothing more to be done in that situation. But Trina’s situation? That was a different story. “I’m not here about that,” he said.
Trina studied him. “Then what are you here about?” she asked.
“Thirty franchises,” he said. “How’s that for a start?”
“We’re lending our name and concept,” she said, “and we get paid for it. Monthly checks. It’s a win-win, Reno. A win for me and Gemma, and a win for our franchisees. There’s no downside to this for us.”
Reno couldn’t believe she said that. “No downside? You’re about to open fifty different stores bearing your name, shit I knew nothing about, and there’s no downside?”
Some of the salesclerks looked over and smiled when Reno used profanity.
“Let the show begin,” Jameila whispered to two other clerks, and they sniggered. Even Oprah, who had every right to be behind that counter taking care of store business, stayed clear of Reno and his sometimes volcanic temper. She hurried over to the salesclerks, to help with labeling.
But Reno didn’t care what they saw or heard or what they were doing. This was his wife going down this black hole. All he knew was that he had to save her from herself.
Trina could see his anguish too. She sought to reassure him. “This isn’t like you think it is,” she tried to explain. “When you opened the PaLargio East for Jimmy to run, and your PaLargio South hotels in those southern states, you owned all of those. We won’t own any of the stores,” she continued. “We’re own the name and the concept. And get paid very handsome royalties for that. Gemma, who’s a great lawyer as you know since you were the first in our family to use her talents, handled all of the paperwork. It’s a great business move, Reno.”
“Great my ass,” Reno responded. “It’s a burden you’re not going to take on right now. If you own the name and those fuckers fuck up, you’ll get sued too. Did Gemma mention that part? You think the corporate office will be harmless in a lawsuit? If Gem’s telling you that bullshit she needs to get her ass back to law school.”
“Careful, Reno.”
“Careful my ass, Trina. I know business better than both of you put together. I owned the PaLargio when you were still a waitress at Boyzie’s. I have to protect your interest. Sal is always out of town and he might let Gemma do whatever the fuck she wants to do, but I’m not Sal. You’re mine. And you will not be trying to run Champagne’s, help run the PaLargio, and, by the way, run fifty more franchises to boot! You’re stretched too thin already, Trina. How many times do I have to tell you that? Now you want to take on fifty times more stress?” Reno shook his head. “Not gonna happen.”
“It’s already done, Reno.”
“Then undo it,” Reno said.
Trina frowned. “What do you mean undo it? It’s done. We signed the contracts. It’s done.”
“Then turn your interest over to Gemma.”
“And let her get all the money for herself?”
“Why do you keep going on about money? You’re my wife. Money is not an issue! What the fuck you care about making more money? I have enough. Trust me.”
Trina shook her head. “It’s not about the money, okay? It’s about you allowing me to run my business.”
“You’ll run it alright. You’ll run this store, and the store inside the PaLargio. That’s it. That’s all. All that other shit you conveniently forgot to mention to me? That’s over. You aren’t participating.”
“Yes, I am,” Trina said boldly.
“I said you aren’t,” Reno said with equal boldness.
But Trina refused to back down. “I said I am,” she said.
Reno stared at her. They were at a crossroads. She said she was going to do something this dramatic, and had already started doing it, without his blessing. They were on the brink. He could feel it.
But then Trina took it a step too far. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said to him, “I have work to do.”
Reno looked at her as if he couldn’t believe it. Was she dismissing him? “If I will excuse you?” he asked. Then he nodded, his anger suddenly flared. “Yeah, I’ll excuse your ass alright. Come with me!” he said firmly and began heading toward the back stairs. When he glanced back and saw that Trina was not following him, he turned back around. “Now!” he yelled with such force that everybody in the store looked at him.
Oprah looked too. She knew how ornery Mr. Gabrini could be when he was in his feelings. And Trina, knowing Reno better than all of them, decided to follow him. She was highly pissed with him, but she also knew his limits. He gave her more liberties than any human being alive, but if she pushed him too far, he snapped. She hurried behind him.
When he got upstairs, in Trina’s office, and she walked in behind him, he slammed the door shut and then put her against that door. “You think you’re gonna defy me, Trina? You think you’re gonna disobey my direct order and there be no consequences?”
“I’m not trying to do anything to you, Reno,” Trina shot back. “This isn’t about you. This is about a business I’m trying to run.”
“Thirty new stores with your corporate name on them will be opening soon. Thirty new stores. And you didn’t even consult me about it? You didn’t even think I should know what’s going on?”
“When you opened all of those PaLargio South hotels, and PaLargio East hotels, did you consult me, Reno? Did you even think to consult me? No! Because you run the PaLargio, and I respect that.”
“You don’t respect jack if you pulled this shit on me,” Reno responded. “You should have told me, Tree!”
“So that what could happen? Hun, Reno? So that you could lay down the law and say you aren’t going to allow me to do it just li
ke you’re doing now? You never wanted me to have this place. You think it’s too much for me.”
“You’re a wife. You’re a mother. You’re in senior management in my organization. Hell yeah it’s too much! And now you’re going to add fifty more headaches on top of the ones you already have? You aren’t going through with this. I’m not letting you go through with this.”
Trina never wanted to go there, but she knew she had to. Reno had to understand! “You do not own me, Reno,” she said. “And you do not own this business. That’s why I did everything in my power to keep it separate from you when I first opened it because I knew you wouldn’t let me do half the things I wanted to do. I’m not defying your position in our household, Reno. I know you run our home. But the day I get to run the PaLargio the way I want to run it, is the day you get to run this. Your word is final at the PaLargio, and I accept that. And I do respect that, whether you believe it or not. And my word is final here. You don’t have to respect it. But you have got to accept it.”
Reno stared at her. She was still that feisty waitress he met at that strip joint all those years ago, and she still had that fight in her he loved. But there was more to it now. She was moving on. She was doing her own thing her own way and not even consulting him. And at that moment Reno realized a horrible truth: he was scared. He was losing Trina. He was losing his girl.
And without another word, he left.
“Reno!” Trina yelled after him. But he didn’t look back.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They came to him. That was the first thing that impressed Junna. The three biggest mob bosses in Vegas actually came down into the basement, or the bowels of the PaLargio Hotel and Casino as they called it, to meet with Reno Gabrini. And it wasn’t a fancy basement, either. It wasn’t even finished. But there they were, getting off of the freight elevator in their fancy suits and shoes and making their way through the damp, dank corridor that led into the main room. Junna wished he could take pictures, it was so amazing to him. There was Grazi Damone. And Koop Vitalis. And Aldo Savamino. And then, to top it all off as far as Junna was concerned, stepping off of the elevator was Salvatore Luciano Gabrini. Sal Gabrini.
Reno Gabrini: I'm Losing You Page 8
