Avarice

by S. W. Frank

  The unconscious action brought a low groan and he held tighter to his shaft as it began pulsing. Nah, sorry, he thought. Sleep sex is better than jerking off. He turned on his side with Selange’s lips attached to his chest. He inserted a leg between hers; grateful she was pantiless beneath her camisole. He embraced her to pull her slightly forward and with accuracy pushed within her and held there. His hand held her neck, as the throbbing pleasure took over. Damn, even in sleep she was moist and snug. Where strength came from, he wasn’t sure but it must’ve been the stored reserves because he came alive inside her wetness. Electrical stimulation, shit that’s what happened because now he had rolled on top, kissing her throat, lifting the flimsy material and then she awakened.

  A weary smile was the greeting initially but then hard squeezes on his shaft were notification she was good to go. Well, that and her verbal response, “Ummm, oh honey thank you very much.”

  “Mucho gracias nena.”

  Then she kissed his neck. He didn’t want to breathe in her face or give her any lingering germs from his human Petrie Dish of a tongue, but she started a goddamn blaze when she stretched her neck to kiss his mouth. She was determined to contract his germs and he pulled back. “Babe…ummm…no.”

  She bowed forward eagerly, rubbing his ass and his torso hovered above her chest with stiff arms locked in place. “Roll over,” she commanded.

  The smile broadened when she twisted with him as he went on his back. The chica rode him hard and suctioned in his seminal fluid like a pussy drunk.

  “Shit…babe!” he cursed when she reversed her body to form a sixty-nine.

  “I wonder if my pussy can catch a cold if I suck you down here.” Then she put her mouth around the tip of his penis and the feast began.

  Alfonzo gripped her thighs as he tongued her clit, sucked honey and mango flesh grunting pleasurably at Selange’s action. The chica worked her mouth up and down his staff letting her tongue slide like a stripper on a pole until his ejaculate was a geyser of cum and she swallowed it all.

  Nourishment is what Alfonzo received in mass doses from Selange’s vaginal liquid supplements. He drank from her lips accepting her carnal offerings.

  Can chocha catch a cold?

  See, how someone can plant a seed and the roots take hold?

  Well, if her twat got sick, he’d nurse it back to health with plenty of fluids and warm tongue. He smiled, ah, sex is rejuvenation. After they had their fill, they crashed hugging and wouldn’t have heard anything coming through the door…that’s how tired they were.

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

   

   

   

   

  Sergio rolled over in bed. Music played in the background. He must have forgotten to turn off the stereo and the singing crept in to shorten his sleep. His mouth hung open spilling a line of drool that had attached to his face. He wiped his cheek and mouth. His eyes opened in the darkened room to see the illuminated numbers on the clock which read 12:02 a.m.

  He sat up rubbing his hand down his hairless chest which glistened with sweat. The conversation with Lucia came to mind. “I am pregnant Sergio,” she told him a few days ago.

  He’d taken Alfonzo’s advice a while back and stepped to Matteo and the dude wasn’t pleased. He warned Sergio. “Hurt my sister and I will not be forgiving.”

  Sergio grimaced, he was torn. On the one hand he really dug Lucia but on the flip side having a baby this early in their relationship added a pressure he couldn’t handle. He hadn’t spoken to Lucia in days, not because he was mad or anything but it’d taken that long for reality to sink in. Matteo would have his ass on a platter if he didn’t marry Lucia. He had old-fashioned values, which Sergio gauged by the way he spoke about honor and duty. Last night he called his sister and told her he was having a kid. Tanya was congratulatory and probably more excited about the prospect of becoming an aunt than he was about being father. Being a father wasn’t the problem, he just didn’t know if what he felt for Lucia was love or lust. He cared about her a lot, more than any woman he’d been with but things were moving so fast his head was swimming.

  He stood, stretched and then shuffled out the door for an early morning breakfast. His feet stopped the moment he came around the corridor. Seated in the living room, flanked by a pair of brolic henchmen was Matteo.

  “You are a very deep sleeper,” Matteo said as he uncrossed his legs and then rose.

  Sergio’s stomach churned. Damn, how did Matteo get pass security? He chucked the question in the trash, it was stupid. “I was tired.”

  Matteo smoothed his sleeves. His eyes traveled from the quality material to Sergio. “I have spoken with my sister; apparently you have not taken her calls.”

  Sergio rocked from side to side. The nervousness got the best of him. “I’ve had a lot going on. I planned to call her today.”

  Matteo frowned. “She has told me she is having a bambino and you did not take the news well, is that true?”

  “Nah, I’m alright.”

  Matteo walked forward to study Sergio’s face. He saw the lie. “My mother is a devout Catholic in many respects. On the topic of children she believes a couple should be married. Our family has gone through many difficult times with the loss of my father. I do not intend for her to endure further heartache.” He wrapped his fingers around Sergio’s neck and began to squeeze. “You will marry Lucia immediately, capisce?”

  Sergio’s nostrils flared.  He choked out an answer, “I’m not marrying anybody unless I’m good and ready.”

  The men with Matteo scurried over and halted at his side. The pressure to Sergio’s neck relaxed when Matteo withdrew his hand. He smirked as Sergio rubbed his neck. Matteo nodded and a fist bounced Sergio’s body off the wall. Matteo waited for him to stand upright. “Is that your position?”

  “I make my own decisions you sonovabitch!”

  A fist struck Sergio in the face and he fell sideways to the carpet.

  “Is that your position?” Matteo asked again as Sergio stood with shaky legs.

  “Whatever decision I make is between me and Lucia, not you.”

  Maybe, he shouldn’t have spoken. The second the words flew out his mouth another strike landed right in his stomach and it felt like dejá vu all over again.

  First Chip.

  Then Giuseppe.

  And now Matteo.

  Who next the boogie man?

  Matteo stared at the fallen youth. “A lovely Christmas present would be news of a wedding. Anything less will bring out my black suit.”

  Sergio rest his head against the wall as the men stepped over his legs to exit. He ran his tongue over his teeth to ensure they were all there and they were. After a few minutes of, “Damn this sucks.”

  Sergio stood on wobbly legs to retrieve his cell from atop the dresser in the bedroom. He hated to wake Alfonzo but that sonovabitch Matteo had lost his mind. When Alfonzo’s cell rang and on the second buzzing he heard Giuseppe’s voice bellow, “You call for mio fratello at this hour?”

  Sergio stomped his bare foot. Damn, Alfonzo must have redirected his calls. “Um…”

  “Speak Sergio…did you receive a visit from Matteo, eh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ho and you cry to Alfonzo like a bambino, yes?”

  “You know what Giuseppe; I didn’t call to speak to you. I didn’t even know you had your ass in Puerto Rico. Put Alfonzo on the phone!”

  “I cannot, he is asleep. Buona notte Sergio. Cry and when you have finished, grow balls and speak to me of your troubles. You may visit at my brother’s home when you do, capisce?”

  “Oh shut the fuck up Giuseppe, I’m sick of your bullshit!”

  The silence which followed was thick and frightening. Maybe, he should’ve held that comment in, Sergio then considered but it was too late, the wo
rds were blurted out without thinking.

  Giuseppe’s bass rumbled the phone. “Open the door when I arrive. If you do not I will find you and snap your puny neck!”

  The phone went dead and Sergio punched the wall. “Shit, not again!”

  In less than twenty minutes there was an impatient pounding at the door and Sergio knew Giuseppe was still pissed. He wondered why the doorman kept letting people in the building, scared prick! Hell, they probably gave him a stare and dared him to stop them. Sergio thought about Alfonzo’s words to demand his respect. He inhaled, turned the doorknob and let the sonovabitch in.

  Massive muscles, bare shoulders and clad in only pajama bottoms is how Giuseppe arrived. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt or shoes, so incensed at Sergio’s remark he’d leaped out of bed and summoned one of Alfonzo’s drivers to bring him to his cousin’s upscale apartment in downtown Bayamón.

  When the door swung open he seized Sergio by the throat and thrust him against the wall causing it to rattle. At Giuseppe’s back was only a picture on the wall outside the hall. He didn’t need an army to deal with Sergio, in fact, his son Carlo could probably whip Sergio’s ass with his thumb. His face hovered above the belligerent younger man as he snorted like an enraged bull. “Vaffanculo, eh you smart mouth punk?”

  Sergio grappled with Giuseppe’s wrist attempting to loosen the hold but found resistance. “Let go!” he gurgled.

  Giuseppe slapped Sergio’s bruised face several times before releasing the vice that had begun to cause oxygen deprivation. “You fail to match your bold words. Matteo beats you and whimper like a frightened kitten. You are pitiful!”

  Sergio rubbed his throat, his jaw worked angrily from side to side. His eyes glowered at Giuseppe’s smug look. “What the fuck was I supposed to do, shoot Matteo and the other guys with guns?”

  “Does Matteo have one bruise?”

  Sergio rolled his eyes. “Like I said, he had these guys with him and…”

  A scoff sounded. “Ah, it is evident by the long reply he does not.”

  Sergio sucked his teeth. “No, he doesn’t because I didn’t fight the man.  I wasn’t trying to get shot in the head. I know when I’m outnumbered.”

  There was a sympathetic expression from Giuseppe as he stared at Vincent’s son. No wonder Nico chose to train Tony. Sergio was not equipped to be an enforcer. There are many men who fear harm, thus do nothing when set upon. The ways of the Giacanti was fight to the death, fight and show no fear. Never submit and be willing to die for a cause. Family, self-preservation and respect are such grounds. Giuseppe walked away from the youth, found his kitchen and peered inside the fridge and took out a beer. He popped the can, guzzled the frothy liquid down and then slammed the aluminum to the counter crushing it like an accordion with a pound of his fist. “You shame your father…you shame me…you shame yourself Sergio and I am sick of it!” he scowled when Sergio appeared at the entry.

  “Why because I’m not a crazy motherfucker who goes around beating up people…or…blowing their heads off because they piss me off…huh?”

  “When you are docile…fearful…you see crazy in someone like me.” Giuseppe closed the gap to stand directly in front of Sergio. “I am not afraid of death, but it is the fearful clinging with tentative fingers to life that are among the first to die. Respeta mio cugino is a code that our breed must live by. Any man who does not give you respect sees you as weak, capisce?”

  The impact of Giuseppe’s words caused Sergio to look away for a minute. He became teary eyed at hearing the truth about himself.  For years he wanted respect but in the ‘hood he got none. Brothers tested his ass all day long. It’s true he couldn’t fight, not like Giuseppe or the others and that’s why he avoided confrontations with fists. He knew he’d lose, sometimes though …he won. “Then what’s the point Giuseppe, if I aint shit, then why should I try anymore?”

  “The little ones have lied to their Uncle,” Giuseppe responded.

  “Huh?”

  “They said my English is better.”

  “It is.”

  Giuseppe palmed the back of Sergio’s head like a father. “Then cazzo you lack comprehension. I will speak plainly since you are somewhat of a simpleton.” He smirked and squeezed Sergio’s scalp. “You are a Giacanti. The son of a respected man in our family. Killing is not the only way to have respect, knowing your worth and reminding men such as Matteo of your importance does not require a gun.”

  Sergio nodded. “He wants me to marry Lucia because she’s pregnant.”

  Giuseppe did not blink at the news. He and Lucia were done. “And what are your views on marriage?”

  “I don’t know.” Sergio was unable to articulate his thoughts. He really had a thing for Lucia. He just wasn’t sure if he was cut out for a permanent commitment. Becoming a father was scary enough. What if he fucked up? An unhealthy childhood is what he had. Not to mention he didn’t have any positive male model in his life. All he had were put-downs; arguments with his mother’s lovers and abuse were lullabies at night. It wasn’t until he spent time around Alfonzo and witnessed what family is supposed to be about that he realized the paradigm he’d accepted was wrong. Couples can be devoted, disagree respectfully without loud arguments or any form of domestic abuse. He learned a lot about fatherhood, love and brotherhood through observation just being with his cousin. Frankly, he was scared shitless he’d fall short!

  “Humph!”

  “What’s the damn humph about?”

  “She will make a good wife, no?”

  “But will I make a good husband?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Many men do not make good husbands; most women are not easy to please.” He released Sergio’s head. The affection Sergio had yet to observe finally shone through in the sparkly blue irises. “I shamed Lucia once. Do not duplicate my actions Sergio. Lucia is a sweet woman. Her faith in love was lost and I believe you have assisted in restoring it. Respect can also be gained by overcoming fear to do what is right, capisce?”

  “Yeah…I do.”

  “Bene…bene…now who are you?”

  “A Giacanti.”

  “I do not believe. The eyes reveal the truth. Who are you mio cugino?”

  “Sergio. I’m a crazy motherfucking Giacanti!”

  “Bene…I believe because you believe. Now, do not shame yourself again…do not shame our family. When next you meet Matteo, punch him hard. He will not dare kill you out of respect for this family. You will find I do not lie!”

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

   

   

   

   

  Tony put away his coat and tossed his key on the table. The hum of the fridge blended with the silence and he figured Tiffany was asleep. He tried to be quiet as he went to see if she’d left out food and of course she did.

  He’d sat after warming up the fish and rice; poured hot sauce on the stuff for an added kick before tasting it and blew fire because he used too much. Tiffany had already seasoned the hell out of the trawl with finely chopped jalapenos he hadn’t seen. That woman ate the hot peppers whole and must’ve thought everybody did apparently. All-in-all, when his mouth adjusted to the spice the meal was delicious.

  As he ate, he thought about having to tell Alfonzo about what he witnessed tonight. Damn, there’s too much wrong on the world when even family can’t do right. He’d seen Alfonzo’s generosity, saw the man’s effort to lift brothers up, and it didn’t make any sense that Domingo would stab him in the back. Was there a coincidence that he would get involved in the drug trade and out of all the men to do business, why Don Vecchio?

  No, Tony had a bad feeling
; Domingo was being used by Don Vecchio to get to Alfonzo. No genius I.Q is required to see where this was going. 

  Maybe the aroma is what caused Tiffany to wake, who knows but she sauntered to the kitchen table in skimpy shorts with a bra for a shirt in the warm apartment and sat opposite him. Tony hadn’t shared the news that he decided to take Alfonzo up on his offer and relocate. Mainly because he was scared in a way she’d let him go to Italy alone and in his heart he prepared for it.

  “Late night again?” she asked rubbing her eye and pulling on a single eyelash that poked her socket.

  “Yeah.”

  “You could’ve called.”

  He finished off the beer, the beverage of choice with a meal at night. For some reason it helped him sleep. “I did, it went to your voice mail.”

  Her lips went slack. “Oh.”

  He stood, took the dishes to the sink and washed each one slowly, as he struggled with what to say. The timing would never be right, there’s always a reason to delay what the heart doesn’t want to voice to avoid getting hurt. “I’m taking a new position that requires a move.” There he said it!

  “Tony, is this new position in Alfonzo’s company?”

  “Yes,” he turned around after placing the dishes in the rack and leaned against the sink. “It’s an increase in salary.” He shrugged. “I also need a change of scenery. I’m hoping you plan to come with me.”

  Tiffany stared at her hand; the finger adorned with the engagement ring he’d given her almost a year ago but had yet to set a date. “Is this a permanent move?”

  “Maybe.”

  “So, am I supposed to stay engaged indefinitely while you cater to your career?”

  Tony crossed his arms. “That’s why I’m asking you to come with me, we move together. We can always set a date for the wedding after we’ve settled in. Sweetheart, we’ve been fine without a legal paper and I don’t see why we have to rush anything.”