Now she’s looking confused again. What settles it, I know she’s thinking. “What are you saying?” she asks me.
“I’m saying,” I say to her, “that nothing else has worked. Maybe it’s about time we give love a shot. Before our asses are too old to care.”
She laughs. Which makes me smile. And then she does something very sweet. She moves closer to me, and kisses me on my lips. It’s a sweet kiss. A simple kiss. But what it does to me is anything but.
Her lips on mine awakens those same feelings in me I felt the first time we kissed. And just as she’s ending her sweet, simple kiss, I’m beginning my passionate kiss. I pull her into my arms, closer to me, and kiss this woman like kissing is a rare gem heading for extinction, and I, and I alone, can keep it alive.
I rub her soft hair; I wrap my legs around her legs, as I’m kissing her. Her mouth. Her lips. Her taste is driving me wild! And as soon as she gets over the shock of my sudden aggressiveness, and starts returning my kiss with almost as much fervor as I’m giving to her, I’m a man ready to shoot the moon. I want this woman so badly I can’t contain my emotions. I put on a condom, and move on top of her.
I’m about to fuck the shit out of her. And it’s not going to be any I don’t care fuck, either. Not with this prize I have beneath me. Because I do care. There’s no more denying that shit. I care about this woman. And I’m about to go down on her in a way that shows her just how much I care.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
He’s between my legs eating me, and I have my fingers dug into his hair trying to make sure he doesn’t stop. I’ve never been with a man who knew how to give me head the way I want it, but Bobby knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s going down on me like he’s a professional at this shit, and I’m just enjoying his expertise.
First, he did my breasts. And when he was sucking and squeezing them, I thought that was all I was gonna need. I can go home satisfied on the strength of his breast-fucking alone.
But man, oh man, was I wrong. Because when he moved down between my legs, and started mouth-fucking me there, I was through dealing. I was throwing in my cards and conceding the victory to Bobby. He beats them all. The way his tongue licks my clitoris. The way his mouth caresses my walls. The way his tongue slips between my folds and slide slowly up and down and then pushes in so deep that it feels as if he’s electrifying me. That’s how Bobby does it. That’s why, during this entire time, I’m almost about to cum.
That’s also why, when his mouth moves away, I feel empty again.
Until he moves further up on top of me, and his mouth is replaced by his penis. Never thought I could be dick-whipped in this lifetime. I’ve never been that girl. Until I met up with Bobby’s dick.
It’s big, which isn’t new to me. Most of the guys I fooled with had size going on. But Bobby’s dick isn’t so much wide as it is long. Which means it’s penetrating the hell out of me. Just when I think it’s in as far as it can go, it keeps going in even further. And I’m squirming and scratching Bobby’s back because I’ve never had anybody go that far up in me. But that’s exactly where he is: deep in me. Deep down in me. And I know I can’t hold back my orgasm much longer.
And I can’t hold it back when Bobby starts fucking me. It’s the deepest fuck I’ve ever had, and it feels so damn good that I’m holding onto his body as my whole body is shaking to his pounding.
Bobby is fucking the shit out of me. There’s no other way to say it. He’s laying it on me like it’s never been laid on me before. And I can’t hold back. I cum so hard I feel my heart palpitating. I cum so hard Bobby looks at me with his big, gorgeous, hooded eyes, and says I’m about to make him cum, and he cums too.
But the fact that we’re cumming doesn’t slow him down. If anything, it speeds him up. And he’s fucking me like there’s no tomorrow and I’m enjoying his fuck like there’s no tonight. The bed is bouncing, and we’re bouncing on top of it. Fucking our brains out. Until I’m cumming again. And he’s still cumming. And I’m wondering if he’s taking Viagra shit or some other drug to keep it going this long.
But it’s no drug. It’s just Bobby. He knows his way around a bedroom, as they say. And he knows his way around my body.
Because when all of the sensations finally roll through my body over and over until there’s no more rolling they can do, and Bobby’s dick finally stops pounding me, he collapses down on me. And I’m no longer happy. I’m scared to death. Happiness is when you feel good about a brand-new relationship. It’s about the possibility that you just might have found your soul mate.
But when you barely know a guy, and is already feeling that he could be the one, it’s scary as a motherfuck. Because you’re already beginning to invest. You’re already taking the little savings you have in that bank called your heart and turning it over. And if you’re wrong, you’re broke.
If I’m wrong, I’m broken. Because too many other men have chipped away at my heart before. There’s precious little left to be chipped away. If Bobby fumbles it, and breaks it too, I don’t think I’ll have anything left.
That’s scary.
For a woman like me, who wants to finally be right about a good man so bad, that’s some scary shit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I’m following her home. She didn’t want me to do it. She came up with every excuse in the book for me not to do it. But I wouldn’t hear of it. We made decisions tonight. We made the decision to be a couple, and to see where this road might lead us. And I don’t even know where she lives? This woman whose now my woman? Oh hell no. I wasn’t trying to hear any of her excuses tonight.
And that car she’s driving. That’s got to go! It might be her pride and joy. It might be the last semblance of independence she has. But it’s still got to go. She’s my woman now. Not just some random female in Jericho. She’s the woman of a Sinatra. Of the mayor of this town. My woman. I can do her better than that.
But like I said, I’ve got to take it slow and easy with Rain. Or I’ll scare her off.
And I’ve also got to be smart about all of this too. I can’t let my lower head do the thinking for my upper head. I call Gerard.
“I need you to get Rasta to run a background for me.”
“Cool,” Gerard says over the phone. “On who?”
“Renita Hopson.”
“Re-ni-ta Hopson.” He’s writing her name down. “Who’s she? A new hire? You didn’t mention anything about hiring somebody new. I told you before, Bobby, as your chief of staff, you’ve got to let them come through my office first so we can vet their asses right.”
“She’s not a new hire.”
“Then who is she?”
When I don’t respond, he gets it.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll get her name to Rasta right now. Anything special he’s to look for?”
“No. Nothing special. I doubt if he finds anything at all. But just in case.”
“I’m glad, if this woman is to be a part of your life during the campaign, that you’re checking her out. We can’t put anything past Capecchi, or anybody else for that matter. I’ll get your boy right on it.”
“Any word on Laura?” I ask him.
“Still nothing. If Capecchi’s hiding her, he’s doing a great job of it. But we’re still on it. I’ll let you know as soon as something turns up.”
I end the call just as Rain turns onto this long road that leads to a part of town I’m familiar with. When I used to work for my old man as his property manager, I used to evict quite a few tenants from some houses back this way. But I remember this area as a straight-up ghetto. With trailer park trash all over the place, and a government-subsidized housing project nearby. And violence like it’s nobody’s business. I sure hope she’s taking a shortcut. I sure hope she’s not living in this hellhole.
But as she passes the trailer park, and passes the housing project, I’m feeling better. She’s still in a shitty part of town, but at least not in those shitholes.
But as I’m following her to her h
ouse, I’m mainly thinking, not so much about where she’s living or what she’s driving, but about us. And how we came together in a special way tonight. That was, hands down, the best sex I’d ever had. I never felt that way before. This woman did things to my body that had me in a place that I didn’t know I could come back from. It was just that magnificent. And the way she tasted. I’m throbbing just thinking about it. Where had she been all my life?
But I know. I’m getting ahead of myself. I just met her. I haven’t even met her son yet, at least not formally. What if he can’t stand me? What if he hates my guts so much that he tells his mother he’d kill himself if I had anything more to do with him? Where would that leave us? She’s obviously a very selfless, devoted mother. I saw that with my own two eyes in the Hub. I can’t imagine her staying with a man that her son despised, no matter how she felt about him.
And how does she feel about me, I’m wondering, as she turns the corner. Is she as excited as I am about our new adventure, or is she scared like I am too? I’m deciding to put my heart out there, and see if she can take care of it. What if she’s fooling the shit out of me? What if she came to town just to wrangle herself a Sinatra? But if that’s the case, and it’s all an act, then I say bust out the Academy Awards and give one to Rain. She deserves it if she’s acting. Meryl Streep ain’t got nothing on her if she’s acting.
She’s not. Why I’m always so certain about her motives is crazy, but that’s how I feel. I’m not giving this a try with a woman I have doubts about. I’m giving this a try because I have no doubts about Rain. I might be wrong, and I sure hope I’m not, but I have no doubts.
But when she pulls up into the parking lot of some cheap motel on the outskirts of town, I’m floored. What the fuck is this? Trash everywhere. People hanging out on cars and drinking beer in public. Is this some joke?
Now I’m mad when I get out of my Mercedes. Rain gets out of her car too. But when she looks at me, I see the shame all over her face. That’s why she didn’t want me to come. It wasn’t because of her having to introduce me to her son too soon, as I thought it was. It was because of where she’s living. Which is probably all she can afford. And my arrogant, born-rich ass didn’t realize it.
But I’m still pissed. I can’t help it. The idea that she’s been living in these conditions when I could have easily helped her pisses me off. She knows I would have helped her. Hell, I helped her with a fucking car repair bill, why wouldn’t I help her with something far more important like a roof over her head? She’s ashamed, and I’m sorry about that, but I’m still too angry to appease it.
To her credit, though, she doesn’t try to explain it away or make excuses. We walk across the sidewalk to her motel room, she unlocks the door, and then she lets me in.
Her son is reclined in the recliner, fast asleep, with the TV blaring in front of him. It’s some sex movie sounds like. I know it is because, as soon as the young man hears the door close, he jumps awake. And then he nearly breaks his arm grabbing for the remote control.
“I was looking for the Disney channel,” he says to his mother. It’s laughable, and I would have surely laughed if I wasn’t so upset, but I am upset.
And he’s not fooling, Rain, either, because she goes to the TV and turn it off. “I told you about that HBO shit,” she says to him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says to her. Only his entire focus is now on me. “You must be the mayor,” he says to me.
“This is Mr. Sinatra,” Rain says to him. “Mayor Sinatra.”
“We’ve met before,” he says to his mother. “When we had that car wreck, remember, Ma?”
“I remember. Bobby, this is my son, Ayden.”
I stop being upset long enough to respond to the boy. I can’t afford to lose him right away. “Hello, Ayden,” I say to him. “How are you?”
He smiles. He’s a good-looking kid, with big, brown eyes. “I’m good. How are you?”
When he says that, I know he’s a good kid. He’s going to be a piece of cake. “I’m fine,” I say to him.
“We aren’t used to having the mayor of a whole town in our living room.”
When he refers to a motel room as his living room, my heart drops. This boy is very familiar with hard times.
“Get out of the chair,” Rain says to him, “and let Mr. Sinatra sit down.”
Ayden is about to move, but I stop him. “No need. Stay where you are.”
“You can’t stay?” he asks, like he’s disappointed.
“No,” I say to him. Then I look at Rain. “May I speak to you outside?”
Rain looks into my eyes like she knows I’m disappointed. But her look is defiant, like she thinks I’m blaming her, or like I’m disappointed in her. I am disappointed in her, but not for the reason she thinks.
“Whatever you need to say,” she says to me, her arms folded, “you can say it in front of my son. He’s thirteen. He can take it.”
“I can take it,” Ayden says too.
“Just don’t beat around the bush,” she says to me. “We’ve heard worse. It’s no big deal to us.”
She’s defensive as hell, as if all of that hope she had is about to be thrown out a window.
“You can’t stay here,” I say. “You’ve got to move.”
And it seems as if both of them, individually and collectively, let out a sigh of relief.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I know he’s pissed. It’s all over his face. And I expected him to say he can’t be with a woman who would have her child live like this, or some other words of criticism, but that’s not what he says. He says I have to move. Not that that’s good to hear, either. But it’s not a blanket condemnation like I expected. Like Ayden expected, too, if the relief on his face is any indication. We can handle this.
“I plan to move,” I tell him, “as soon as I get up enough money.”
“No need to wait,” Bobby says. “There’s some vacant condos in my building. You can pick your choice. But you aren’t staying here.”
Condos in his building? Is he nuts? “I can’t afford to stay in your building!”
“Did I ask you if you could afford it? I own the fucking building, Rain! Why would I ask if you could afford it?”
He’s practically yelling at me. And that’s making me angry too. “Why are you yelling?”
“Why do you think!” he yells again.
“You’re acting like I’m making you live here too. I’m not asking you to live here!”
“But you live here!”
“Right!”
“No, hell no, that’s not right. You will not be living in this fucking hellhole!”
I’m stunned by his language. I could tell him to watch it in front of my son, but I’ve used worse and I’m no hypocrite. But I don’t get where his anger is coming from. He even looks embarrassed, like I’m putting his business on front street and he doesn’t like it. Only I’m not putting his shit on anything. He’s doing that. But maybe that’s why he’s embarrassed.
“Get your things,” he says to me. “Get Ayden’s things. And let’s go.”
Ayden jumps right up getting his things together. He’s not smiling. Bobby is too intense, and yells too much, for him to be too sure about this guy. But he knows a better opportunity when he hears one. I know it, too, but I need to know the terms.
“What will it cost me?” I ask Bobby.
It’s a loaded question, and Bobby knows it is. “Twenty-five bucks a month,” he says.
Now I’m staring at him. Is this guy for real? “I’m already paying you twenty-five a month for that car repair bill.”
“I know. So, we’re even. Get your things.”
Now I’m really mad. He must take me for some welfare case from way back. “I’m not staying in a luxury condo and paying nothing. Bobby, come on. You’re giving and giving to me.”
“Mom, just get your things,” Ayden’s saying. He doesn’t understand the ramifications. She just knows we’ve got a chance to get out of this rough pl
ace. He’s going for better.
But I understand the ramifications. I don’t like relying on other people, or depending on somebody else to take care of me. I’ve never had it in my life before, and asking me to start now is asking too much. “I’m always the one with her hand out, and I don’t like that,” I say to Bobby, despite what Ayden’s saying. “You’re always the one giving to me. What am I giving to you?”
Then Bobby look at me. And now I see that caring I saw in his eyes back at his place. I can see Ayden out of the corner of my eye, looking at him, too, wondering what in the world is he going to say in answer to my question.
What am I giving to you?
It’s hanging in the air like a pause button on a remote control. Eventually, there has to be a response.
And Bobby responds.
“Everything,” he says to me, and he says it like he really means that shit. “Get your things, Rain,” he also says. “We’ll pick up your car tomorrow. But tonight, you’re going with me.”
And it’s crazy as hell, but I don’t feel strange about it. We’ve shared a bed. We’ve spent half the night together. Not that that’s a big deal. For all of my life, it hasn’t been. But it feels like a big deal now. It all feels so different than all those times now.
I don’t have a clue where this is heading, but I know I need to find out. I’ve been running for so long, I’ve been hoping for so long, I’ve been disappointed so many times that if I don’t give Bobby a shot, a man who’s been nothing but kind to me and my child, who can I ever give a shot to?
I get my things. Ayden already has his. And we pile into Bobby’s Mercedes like two nervous, excited kids. And we head off, with Bobby steering the ship, to what I’m hoping and praying is our brand-new life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
We stand in the lobby of this beautiful building feeling like refugees as Bobby goes up to the front desk and ask for the key to the model unit. He’s carrying my suitcase with my life’s possessions inside of it, even though I tried to carry it myself. But it was like it was nuts to Bobby when I tried that. I guess he’s used to women who are used to men taking care of their every need. I’m used to just the opposite.
Bobby Sinatra: In All the Wrong Places (The Rags to Romance Series Book 1) Page 15