Unconventional

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Unconventional Page 5

by Avery Aster


  “Amore, I’m fine. I got this,” I reassured him. Regardless, on the inside I still vacillated.

  Even if Jemma agreed to our new terms for the future, did I really want to be in a relationship where I had to resort to something like this to get what I wanted? Rubbing my temples, I couldn’t answer my own question. That scared me more than abducting her.

  I had to look at the bright side. Overall, it was going to be an easy trip. I mean, who wouldn’t want to go to those exotic locations? The only place I’d visited other than Italy was America.

  There was only one problem: Jemma. She had no clue we were about to kidnap her. Apparently, Massimo Tittoni hadn’t accepted her resignation and told her to get back to work after she’d tried to quit. A few days later, Lex had then pulled Luigi and I into a private meeting where they video-conferenced in Taddy and Blake.

  Taddy had declared, “Honey, pack your fucking bags. You’re going on a vacation.”

  “It’s more than a holiday, Miss Thing. It’s a sexual safari,” Blake had spoken over her.

  A sexual safari. Have you ever heard of such a thing?

  I’m game! Six weeks of lovemaking with my Jemma and Luigi is more than any one man could ask for.

  “My darlings, I’m home!” Jemma shouted up the stairs.

  “Here we go. Let me get her some wine.” I gave Luigi a nod and headed for the bar on the mezzanine level. I need a glass too. A little Chianti might take the edge off for what we’re about to do.

  Abduction.

  A Pretty Mess

  “One night, over too many glasses of red wine, Jemma had told me that when she modeled, people looked up to her. They thought she was beautiful. Blessed, even. Doors got held open. People went out of their way to smile in her direction. She never got ignored. Looking back, Jemma said she’d taken it all for granted. She thought her looks would always be there. She never expected her face to age or her body to get sick. I told her those things don’t matter. It’s her heart and the love she has for Luigi and Rocco which will carry her through the rest of her life. She’d agreed, but I don’t know at the time if she fully understood what I’d meant. Money will come and go. Popularity fades. But love, true love, never dies.” —Lex Easton, wife, mother, and Manhattanite.

  Dim All the Lights, Rocco

  Jemma

  Up in the air

  A noise over the intercom woke me.

  Then over the speaker, the pilot’s voice crackled. “We’re clear to land at Berlin Tegel Airport. Please, fasten your seatbelts.”

  Germany?

  WTF…“Luigi!” I shouted, ripping the sleeping mask off my face. “Rocco!”

  “Our captive is awake,” one of them stated huskily in my direction.

  “Why in the hell are we going to Berlin?” Pressing the back of my neck against the headrest, I inhaled deeply through my dry mouth and tried to make sense of what the pilot had just said.

  Allowing my eyes to focus, I blinked a few times. I had been having the most fabulous dream. In it, I’d gone to New York City to work with my girl, Lex. Jemma Couture’s reputation had turned itself around, everyone had forgotten all about Death Star Galactica, and my new designs were a smashing success. We were back in business.

  But that was just a fantasy…

  Because there I sat on the Tittoni jet, the royal family crest etched nicely along the ivory leather seats. Dimly lit, the floor glowed from the corners, creating shadows skittered about. As a kid, I’d ridden on that plane around the world with Massimo, taking us wherever our curiosity desired. The Middle East, Asia, Africa—we’d been everywhere.

  Luigi sat before me, the corners of his mouth curled up into a grin.

  At his side, biting his nails nervously, was Rocco.

  “Dolce, we’re not going to New York City,” Luigi stated.

  In a huff, I raked my nails through my hair, scratching the crown of my scalp. For whatever reason it became itchy when I got nervous.

  “We’re going on what Brill, Inc. has dubbed as a ‘sexual safari’,” Luigi declared, handing me a red folder stacked with papers along with a glass of mineral water. “It’s to inspire your upcoming fashion designs to save your career—”

  “And our relationship,” Rocco added.

  I frowned back at them before taking a sip from the glass, glancing down at the papers.

  Labeled: Sexual Safari. Trying not to gulp my beverage, I scanned the pages. It detailed the cities we were to visit and for how long. Apparently each city had a theme.

  Moscow: Opulence.

  Mmm. Luxury feels good on me.

  Paris: Romance.

  Ohhh…I do love France.

  Beirut: Forbidden.

  Yesss! Anything illicit and I’m on it.

  Ibiza: Beach.

  Favoloso. I could work on my tan.

  “Six weeks,” I grumbled. The gas from the sparkling water came up through my nose, and it burned. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Sì,” Luigi confirmed, crossing his arms over his suddenly puffed-out chest. The man was huge, there was no denying that.

  “Why Berlin?” Taking a shallow breath, the jet reeked of tuberose and champagne. Then I realized Taddy had used it last.

  “Underground sex clubs. Kink play. Blake and Taddy wanted us to start out naughty, and Lex and Massimo approved. They figured it would get the press talking the quickest. Then we’ll play up romance and love later on our journey.”

  “The Manhattanites do love their debauchery, don’t they?” Rolling my eyes, I understood the work thing. Even after Massimo had offered me my old job back, he’d urged me to still take a vacation.

  He’d said, “Jemma, you need to feel life again. You are the light for so many people around you. We need to you to shine bright like a diamond.”

  What. Ever. I’d told him, “Shine bright, my ass! I’m not a Rihanna song which can be played for your amusement.”

  Regardless, Massimo was poignant and intuitive. He had a way with words which always tugged at my heartstrings. Like a big brother to me, I respected him almost as much as Luigi and Rocco. He’d given me my start in fashion, and later he’d granted me the royal thumbs-up when I’d announced my poly relationship. In our social circle, many people had turned their noses up over my choice to love openly and freely with Luigi and Rocco. Not Massimo.

  My career was in trouble, and he and Lex knew that. Honestly, I wasn’t inspired to start the next collection. Wasn’t that horrible? Self-esteem wise, I hadn’t recovered from the low blow of Death Star Galactica. It frickin’ tanked.

  But…my relationship with Luigi and Rocco …was fine.

  Wasn’t it?

  Defensively, I gaped at them. They’d played pranks on me in the past, but kidnapping me? That was a new one. I had to give my boyfriends credit: they hit the mark on originality. And extra points for keeping this a secret. Usually Rocco blabbed about everything, like what Luigi had bought us for Christmas. He could never manage to keep his beautiful trap shut.

  Mortified, I asked, “Does everyone know we’re doing this?”

  “Sì, it was the Manhattanites’ idea, remember?” Rocco gloated.

  “The media has been alerted.” Luigi gave him a smile. “They’ll be following us at every destination. We’ll have a mini-press conference when we land this plane.”

  The temptation to punch both of them became strong. I wasn’t their media prop.

  “You’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me!” Was I ready to talk to the press about our sexscapade? Jesus. I hadn’t felt sexy in ages, not since before I’d gotten sick. It was hard to be vivacious when you just wanted to cry.

  “That’s all I need is for my padre to see we’re going on some fuck-fest. He’ll think I did this to throw it in his face.”

  “No, he won’t,” Rocco comforted.

  “That’s how his mind works. Always worried about what people will think of us, he has so much Fereti family pride it drives me bonkers.”

  “Do yo
u really care what he thinks?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know…”

  I didn’t care what the hell other people thought about me. However, I did care greatly how I felt about myself, and sexy wasn’t it. Often, it seemed like I was half the woman I once was. Unable to bare children. Unable to promise any man a future. ‘Sexy’ was the last word on my mind when I looked in the mirror.

  “Don’t you want to get our passion back?” Rocco asked.

  “Up ‘til a few days ago, I hadn’t realized we’d lost it,” I replied.

  Blake and Lex’s words danced in my head, haunting me. “You used to be a sex goddess. You gave off pheromones which turned most men and some women on.”

  “To hell with my padre’s assumptions!”

  Me worrying about what he thought was no different than him caring over what other people did. Right? I wanted to at least try and get back on what Blake had called the ‘sex bike’. I had to.

  “We’re going to have fun,” Luigi persuaded.

  Nodding in agreement, I realized I could do this. Clearly, I didn’t have much of a choice anyway. A part of me was scared to be alone with my boyfriends. Crazy, right?

  “Don’t you trust us?” asked Rocco.

  “Of course I do.”

  It’s just that I don’t want to get all emotional and deep. Not now. I have to save my career. However, another part of me really wanted to try for them, and for myself.

  “I want to be beautiful again. It’s been so long.”

  “Dolce, you already are and always have been,” Rocco complimented firmly.

  “Grazie.” Feeling a warming sense of love come over me, I basked in his words for a moment.

  The jet’s engine shifted, and we hovered over the city’s lights.

  Peering out the small egg-shaped window next to me, I noticed Berlin’s tallest building, the Fernsehturm, also known as the television tower.

  A steel structure, isolated high above the rest of the city’s buildings. Considering it was one of the tallest structures in Europe, it appeared seemingly unromantic. Much like myself, it reminded me of just how miserable I’d been in recent months.

  As someone who had been told over and over again to be happy and celebrate my victory of kicking the Big C, why did a part of me, deep down inside, still want to die? Could my boyfriends tell what was going on in my mind? That I still worried the cancer would come back? I feared that the most. Just when everything in my life would go well, I’d get sick again. Although the doctors had said the chances of that happening were slim, it was still probable. I hadn’t hit the five-year mark yet. Then I’d be free and clear, able to say I was done with cancer.

  “Was it that bad between us that you two had to resort to this?”

  They both nodded in my direction.

  Jesus.

  Rocco stood and came over. Tightening the seatbelt around my waist, he lulled, “We’re doing this because we love you and…you didn’t give us much choice.” He kissed me on the forehead then returned to his seat.

  Defensive, I laughed sarcastically, but inside I was seething.

  The jet hit an air pocket, and we bounced. Needing to eat, I was getting queasy.

  “So once we land, we chat up the press, and go to a sex club?”

  “Sì. Maybe it’ll inspire you to use rubber or latex in your next collection,” Luigi replied matter-of-factly.

  “And you think BDSM will get my juices flowing?”

  “It might help, dolce.”

  Undoing my seatbelt, I got to my feet and strutted over to them. I had heard enough of their malarkey, and kinky crap wasn’t going to make me feel fabulous. Hands on each hip, my mouth hung slightly open for a minute, thinking of exactly how I should phrase my rebuttal.

  They both glared at my breasts.

  Hmmm. The excitement of the kidnapping, combined with the altitude, talk of BDSM, and the cabin’s air conditioning had caused my adrenaline to soar, and I guess my nipples to become erect.

  Rocco grinned. “Nice to see you’re getting your sensitivity back, dolce.”

  Luigi licked his full lips almost as if he’d seen dinner.

  “Grazie,” I said softly. Gently, I glided my hands over them. Feeling my mounds tighten, indeed they seemed more alive than they had in the past year, that was for sure. Surprised and starting to get turned on, a tingle started up the back of my spine, my neck, on up to my scalp. I loved when my boyfriends stared at me with that dominating gaze in their eyes. Like two hawks watching their prey, they were going to pounce on me at any minute.

  But they didn’t. They just sat there.

  I wish they’d jump my bones. For the first time in I couldn’t remember how long, I wanted them to fuck the shit out of me on the damn plane. I needed Luigi deep inside me. Just the mere penetration of him between my legs caused my body to uncontrollably spasm. Knowing what buttons to push, he made me come so fast, like he literally just flipped my clit as a switch and bam! I would come. Over and over again, too.

  And while Luigi would thrust himself deep inside me, Rocco’s tongue usually licked every square inch of my body, bathing me with his love. He could butterfly-kiss the nape of my neck, suckle on my breasts, and eat my pussy like no other man I’d ever met. My bello enjoyed eating me out, drinking every last drop. He was the best at it.

  A soft gasp of excitement expelled between my lips. The notion of us having sex on the plane made my cunt muscles contract.

  Nevertheless, if we were going to do it, then we would have to do it right. Jemma Fereti’s way or the highway. After all, that was how I rolled.

  “Okay, boys. Let’s be kinky in Berlin. But you’ll play by my rules,” I bossed and managed to hold it together. “I want Rocco to top Luigi, once and for all. I’ll…watch.”

  On his feet in a flash, Luigi lifted me over his shoulder. I always felt small in his arms.

  “Put me down.” I became both excited and aggravated.

  “No, dolce,” he insisted with a returning impatience, carrying me back to my seat. Buckling me in, his face leaned down, glaring at me. Spicy and sweet, I could smell the masculine energy coming off him. I could get drunk just by the very taste of him.

  Rocco came up behind him, a suggestion of annoyance hovering in his eyes.

  “You will play by our rules.” Luigi’s voice was calm, gaze steady. Clearly in control. I found a perverse pleasure in this challenge. “Or not only will you be out of a job, but you will also be out of this relazione.”

  “What did you just say?” Overwhelmed by a moment of panic about our relationship coming to an end, my arousal came to a screeching halt. Heart lurching into my throat, I grappled with the consequences of what we were about to embark upon. This could either be a fresh new start for us or…not.

  “Dolce, this is it.” Luigi boldly met my eyes. “For the next six weeks, you either do as we say—every city, every act of love—or we’re out of here.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Too stunned to cry, I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs, but all I could manage was a whisper.

  The end? How can they talk like this?

  “Try us.” Vexation evident, he gritted his teeth.

  “Dolce, although I love the idea of Luigi bottoming for me, and I will add it to my wish list, we’re done playing by your rules.” Rocco’s hoarse voice broke my concentration to argue further. It sounded as if it was hard for him to speak to me like that, but by the flushed crimson hue on his cheeks, apparently he thought it was necessary. Usually he was good at keeping the peace between us. Obviously, he’s on Luigi’s team today.

  “Damn. I’m outnumbered.”

  The longer we’d been together, the harder it would be to get my way in our relationship, but that was probably true of any union which goes on for more than five or so years.

  Shaking my head, I could tell by the confident appearance on their faces something had crawled up their hawt asses and gotten stuck: determination.

  “From here on out, you
will follow our rules.” Luigi’s tongue was heavy with dominance, and it turned me on. Feeling a quake in my pussy, I crossed my legs and clenched my thighs tight. They hadn’t asked for my submission in ages, not since before I’d gotten sick. To be honest, I missed it, because I enjoyed submitting to them. Since my diagnosis, they’d both resigned their alpha ways, becoming beta males.

  Yawn-o-rama.

  Had I lost my respect for them in the process? No. Not exactly. But I tended to like my men better when they were both a lot more alpha. When they’d fight over who fucked me next, not whine. Who didn’t?

  “And what are these rules?” In defiance, I tossed my hair back.

  With rushed words, Rocco replied quickly, “Monogamy, for starters.” He leaned his face into mine, as if he was going to kiss me. “Last month, we each had our physicals and got a clean bill of health. There’s no reason why the three of us need to use condoms anymore. Let’s be exclusive.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “Aside from me and Rocco, have you been with anyone else in recent months?”

  Merda! I shook my head. I can barely keep up in bed with these two let alone have the energy for a third man in my life.

  “Bueno, neither have we,” he admitted. “Not since the day we met you.”

  “You haven’t?” Realizing they’d both been faithful, my eyes stung with tears. Even while I’d been ill, and later in recovery, they never strayed. I’d given them permission over and over again to go out, have fun, and to sex it up with others who could satiate them. Wiping my face, I stared at them in astonishment. Over the last year, I knew I’d failed them. Not only in the way of sex, but intimacy, as well.

  On the inside, way down deep, where my heart beat and my soul laid itself to sleep at night, I often felt…dead. But I didn’t have the courage to share that with them, nor could I muster a thank you for staying faithful. Shocked, I was speechless.

  Suddenly, I could hear the wheels on the jet come down. We lowered, getting in line with the tarmac.

  “I can understand your hesitation about marriage and starting a family. However, if you can’t at least agree to be ours, and only ours, then we might as well go back to Milano.” Rocco rounded his shoulders.

 

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