“Good to have you back, Pete.”
“I reckon so,” he smiled, standing up and scooting over to the sofa wearing nothing but his socks.
◆◆◆
“I’m going to have to be off in a short while, but I’ll be back tomorrow ‘n’ I’ll be here for a few weeks, like I said before.”
“Mi casa es tu casa.”
“Mighty kind of you to say,” and Pete patted the space next to him on the sofa to invite Lucy to lie on her own furniture. The man sure was making himself comfortable early on.
Lucy followed Pete’s instruction and draped herself over him, still both naked, but she grabbed her dressing gown off the floor and sprawled it over them like a blanket.
“Will be good to have a man about the place,” she whispered, putting her hand on his dick again and giving it a playful squeeze.
“Enough of that young lady,” replied Pete and he took her hand away from his groin and dropped it on his stomach. “I need to keep some of my Samson strength for work tomorrow. But after that we can play all day long if ya like.”
“Ooh, sounds like fun!”
“It’ll be a fucking blast, baby. A fucking blast.”
Pete flipped the TV back on with the remote control and they ogled the moving pictures before them until Pete glanced at his watch and saw the time.
“Why don’t you finish what you wanted to start a while back,” he said and put his hand round the back of Lucy’s neck and pushed and encouraged her head down his body. When she finally got the message and pulled off the dressing gown so’s she could get to his dick, Pete let go of her neck and let her get on with her work.
Five minutes later, Lucy realized getting him to come a third time in less than an hour was no mean feat. She licked her finger and found his ass crack and pushed her finger inside. A minute later he was in the throes of ecstasy - or at least it sure sounded like he was - and she swallowed a smattering of sperm. Enough to keep him happy for a while.
Then he put his clothes back on and kissed her on the lips for the first time that afternoon.
“See ya tomorrow.”
“Bye, lover man.”
◆◆◆
As Pete walked out of the trailer, Lucy wrapped the dressing gown back over herself to keep warm and wondered how long Pete was actually planning on staying. Great to have a man to fuck at home, but all this while and he still couldn’t string a sentence together to call his own, let alone hold a conversation.
Pete kept just under the speed limit all the way back to Glen Burnie. When he arrived in the yard, he parked his car right into the back corner and pulled a large piece of tarpaulin over it, so any eyes looking into the yard would have zero chance of seeing his usual wheels hanging around without him.
He checked his vehicle one last time, hit the head and then hit the sack. With an early start tomorrow - much earlier than he was used to - he knew he had to get some rest. But he also knew there would be very little chance for a sleep over the next couple of days and he would be running on adrenaline and not much else. He double checked he had some smokes for the next two days, a couple of packs would see him good, and then he drank four glasses of water. Ten minutes later he needed a piss but at least he knew his body was rehydrating and was going to put him in a good place in the morning. There was nothing worse on the day of a job than having chapped lips and losing focus just because your throat was dry.
Pete set an alarm clock and lay down on his bed with his arms behind his head, acting as an extra pillow. He thought about the logistics for tomorrow. How he and Brian had planted enough gas in the Econoline to burn the whole of Atlanta down, with enough to spare at the barn to torch that place to kingdom come.
He ran through which car was where and who was driving in what direction and all that felt fine too. Then he thought about the C4 and Mary Lou driving that convertible through rush hour traffic and dropping off those little bundles of joy from the shopping bag he’d provided. He’d put the timers together himself so he knew they’d go off on cue.
All that remained was the job itself - the one piece he had no control over. But he had sufficient faith in Frank to execute that piece of the job well. He had a history with safes and the man was a stand-up guy if the stories about his last robbery partner were anything to believe. Even if it wasn’t true that he’d pushed him off a twentieth floor building, there was no smoke without fire. He clearly had the balls for people to believe he’d done it. And that was good enough for Pete. Then he fell asleep, snoring loudly.
41
Mary Lou put the phone down on Carter. Jesus Christ! He wanted her to be part of his bank robbery. He wanted her to be there to help him rob from Frank Senior and, more to the point, he wanted her to help him rob the money from Frank.
Head spin. No chance to think. Heading into a panic. Stay calm, goddamn you. Mary Lou sat still for a second. She could feel the tension in her spine and noticed her free hand had embedded its finger nails into the seat of the sofa. She let go of the cushion and remembered to breathe.
Decision time.
Carter’s last two words span round her like a shiny ball running around a roulette wheel until it finally came to rest inside her head.
Decision time.
Frank was someone you could trust and was strong and handsome and had dreams, but if she didn’t turn up tomorrow morning and let Carter into her car then Carter was a dead man and she would have killed him.
But if she did just that she’d have Frank and Frank Senior - and the rest of the boys - chasing her down until they found her and no matter how close she was to Frank, Mary Lou knew between Frank Senior and Pete alone, she would have the most painful, disgusting last few hours any woman could imagine on this earth.
Mary Lou glanced at the clock hanging on the living room wall and realized she needed to leave this place. She went through one very last time to check she hadn’t left anything of hers lying around in the back of the wardrobe or at the bottom of the drawers. One pair of panties discovered, she walked out of their trysting place and locked the door behind her.
◆◆◆
When she got back to her apartment, Mary Lou got some food ready. Everything needed to be normal. Everything needed to be calm because Frank would be tense enough the night before a job and she was tense enough for the two of them. But after all these months with Carter, and countless times with countless men before, Mary Lou knew how to hide what she was really thinking and feeling from him.
She started cooking, guessing Frank would be back before long and, indeed, she caught sight of him from the kitchen window and put their steaks on.
A moment later, Frank appeared at the door.
“Hey, you!” Mary Lou smiled back at him and came over and kissed him on the mouth, one hand round the back of his neck, the other on his side. She was wearing a blue tee shirt and a short red skirt that revealed a lot of her thighs. And an apron because she was still cooking.
The onions, garlic and ketchup sauce had been on the go for a while and was nicely sizzling, waiting to be a mattress for the beef. And now they were only minutes away from eating.
Frank took out crockery and cutlery and laid the table in their small apartment. He squeezed her butt as he grabbed a couple of glasses from the cupboard and poured a glass of red wine each, knowing this was the most they’d be drinking tonight.
Seven minutes later, both steaks were on plates, the potatoes had been drained and the carrots had been strained too. Frank and Mary Lou sat opposite each other, holding hands and Frank made a toast:
“To you, babe. None of this would have been possible without you.” He raised his glass and Mary Lou clinked hers against his. She pushed her hair behind one ear and smiled.
“Thanks, hon’, but it was the both of us. Not just me.”
Now it was Frank’s turn to smile. He leant forward and kissed her hand and then he let go and picked up his cutlery.
“Fit for a King. Thank you.”
“D
a nada.”
◆◆◆
To begin with, they ate in silence, allowing the taste of each streaky mouthful to linger on their tongues, savoring the textures and the mix of flavors. Then they started talking about what happened in their days and how each had got ready for tomorrow. Mary Lou provided a circumspect summary omitting much of her later interactions with Carter.
When it came to the point in his day when he met up with Uncle Frankie, Mary Lou stopped in her tracks, her hands frozen in front of her. Frank quickly moved on to his return and hiding the jalopy in the parking lot. As soon as he had done so, Mary Lou relaxed again and carried on eating. One way or another, his uncle was going to have to pay for what he had done and that time was coming soon.
He and Mary Lou kept on chatting, talking about anything and everything apart from Tuesday, the next day. They both knew it was there, looming large on the horizon and neither wanted to talk about it. They were just enjoying each other’s company. Each other’s presence.
After they’d done the washing up - he’d rinsed while she dried - they moved onto the couch and the talk had continued. Mary Lou made sure Frank and she were as relaxed as they could be given the job was the next morning and how she was feeling inside. Frank didn’t appear to notice, mainly because he was wrapped up in his own thoughts about the job, repeating and repeating every possible nuance of events that could occur in the morning.
By around ten, they were getting tired and, at the back of his mind, Frank knew they had an early start and a long day ahead of them. He wanted to get to it as soon as possible. Tuesday was the day when his dreams would unfold into reality.
Mary Lou moved close to him, leaning her head on his shoulder and he casually placed his hand on her upper leg, where the hem of her flimsy skirt met the flesh of her thigh. Although he thought about it, he didn’t stroke her leg or move his hand up to her panties. He just let it rest there, doing nothing but providing reassurance about tomorrow and companionship during this evening.
Frank knew no matter how comfortable they were right now in this moment, Tuesday was coming hurtling into view, so he stood up, took Mary Lou’s hand and walked her into the bedroom.
◆◆◆
The conversation carried on when they were naked in bed. Frank took off all his clothes before they got under the covers and Mary Lou mirrored him. He managed to get in bed first, so he had the pleasure of watching her pull her tee shirt over her head and witness her breasts rise and fall, cosseted by her bra. Then she shimmied out of her skirt and Frank stared at her red panties, which matched the bra. Mary Lou looked down on the ground and saw Frank’s shorts and she smiled at him, with a slightly dirty grin. She shrugged and undid the fastening of her bra and pushed her panties down so she stood before him totally naked. He stared at her nipples and then at her rose. And then just below the rose at her perfect triangle of a bush.
She got into bed and they were silent with Mary Lou’s hand resting on Frank’s balls and his hand occasionally stroking her rose.
She felt his fingers burrow past her pubes and idly touch her groin. Casually, absentminded. Mary Lou let her thumb gently, slowly stroke his helmet to return the favor. If nothing else, this took her mind off everything playing out in her brain.
After a few minutes the tingles in her rose kicked off. Without increasing the speed of his finger movements, Frank massaged her until one finger slipped inside and she felt a judder up and down her spine. Mary Lou let out a slight, almost audible moan and Frank carried on as she opened her legs ever so slightly to accommodate his searching finger, which by now was moving in and out in quite a noticeable manner.
Her thumb was still on his dick but her fingers were now clasped round his shaft, squeezing slightly and mimicking his in-and-out finger with her own up-and-down motion. Neither said a word as they kept on with this gentle teasing for another five minutes or so; both their breathing much heavier by now. Thoughts of tomorrow gone from their minds as they lived inside this moment. This isolated moment of trust and pleasure.
Frank added a second finger and she could feel more of his hand, his flesh, against the walls of her body. Felt so good. She moved her hand down his shaft and placed her fingers on his balls, gently stroking them and moving them around in her palm. This encouraged Frank, whose breathing went up a gear, and his fingers increased pace inside her. Now and again, she felt his fingertips pressing against her. The tingles were intense at this point, like her rose was screaming Hallelujah.
With her spare hand, Mary Lou squeezed a nipple, kneading her breast to increase the intensity of the whole sensation. Her head was filled with pleasure. Too intense.
She let go of her nipple and grabbed Frank’s hand to stop its movement. Just for a second.
“Wait,” she whispered and maneuvered herself so that they were lying head to toe: her mouth near his dick and his mouth, in turn, near her rose. She put her hand on his dick and licked his helmet once, coquettishly.
“Go on,” she whispered and Frank started licking too, both lying on their sides, both on the edge. Pure. Intense. Pleasure. For. What felt. Like an hour.
And then Frank came in her mouth and his tongue stopped moving inside her and it was over.
They lay still, facing each other for who knows how long, stroking and massaging the other until both could breathe normally again.
“Good night, babe.”
“Good night, Frank.”
“Game on.”
Frank licked his fingers, twisted the right way, rolled over to face the outside of the bed and was very quickly asleep. Mary Lou was nearly unconscious and the last thoughts she noticed before she went under was that, despite that being the deepest orgasm she had ever experienced, she’d be better off with Carter by the end of tomorrow. And then she too was asleep.
TUESDAY, JUNE 17
42
Frank Lagotti Senior woke up, not too sure where he was. Then he looked down at the red satin sheets and realized he hadn’t left the Kitkatt Club: there were three VIP rooms and, clearly, he was in one of them. He looked left and saw a girl’s head and recognized May and, beyond her, April. As he couldn’t get to sleep, he’d chosen partying to knock himself out instead.
The two whores were still unconscious, so he slapped May on the ass - just because she was the nearest - and Lagotti saw her eyes open wide real quick.
“Hey. Find some water in this goddamn place and then bring your ass back over here.”
May nodded and stretched her arms to help wake herself up, then she slid over Lagotti to get out of the oversized bed, found a towel to wrap around herself and left the room in bare feet.
When she returned, Lagotti was sitting up in bed, but April was still crashed out. He’d pulled the covers up over himself to keep warm to reveal April still had her underwear on. Maybe he hadn’t fucked her after all. Or maybe he had but hadn’t bothered to get her to undress first. Whatever.
Lagotti took the glass of water from May, who let the towel drop around her feet and clambered back into bed. He sipped the start of the glass to get some moisture back inside his mouth and then he glugged the remaining two-thirds straight down to quench his vodka thirst.
Only then did Lagotti pay any real attention to May’s body, whose firm round breasts had first caught his eye the previous night. He half thought of fucking her again and half thought of getting her to suck him off again. But he didn’t really want her to touch him anymore at all. He just liked the idea of ordering her about.
“Wake that bitch up,” he instructed May, “and lick her out until I get back.”
May shrugged and started to wake April by pushing the fabric of her panty’s crotch out of the way so she could get down to business. Meanwhile, Lagotti stumbled round the VIP room, put on his clothes and left the girls to it.
As soon as Frank Senior removed himself from the room, May stopped what she was doing and grabbed four of the five C-notes Lagotti had thrown down onto the bedside table. After all, April’s con
tribution was to dance near the bed while May had fucked him with every orifice she possessed. She’d earned her money that Monday night. April took the remaining C-note, found her hot pants where she’d thrown them on the floor and followed May out the room.
Lagotti pushed open the front doors of the Kitkatt Club, blinked and covered his eyes in what felt like the sharp brightness of the morning. In reality, of course, dawn was only a half hour old and the sun had hardly penetrated the daytime sky.
A cab pulled up right where he stood, he got in and went home to freshen up for the day ahead.
◆◆◆
As he opened the front door to his modest four-bedroom house on Tudsbury Road in Windsor Mill, due west of Baltimore itself, Lagotti heard his wife, Francesca pottering about in the kitchen. The clock had yet to strike eight, but she was already cooking the tomato sauce for tonight’s meal.
Fran was the mother of Lagotti’s three children, a fabulous cook and home maker. As his young bride, she’d been the pick of the crop, but now her good looks had receded inside her, leaving the husk of a smile and layers of fat to hide herself in. Frankie did love her but he had no sexual desire for her anymore.
They had found a comfortable way to share the same domestic space and that was all he really wanted out of her. He had his magazines and the Kitkatt Club to pander to any sexual gratification required and that worked out well for him because he got what he wanted and didn’t have to waste his time taking cute girls out for meals or pretending to listen to them as they told him about their lives. Fuck and done. Easy.
Lagotti strolled into the kitchen to get some breakfast and Fran was busy watching the sauce simmer away, adding a little of garlic here and some more onion there. She turned round with a start and smiled at her Frankie.
“Hi, love.”
“Heh.”
“Shall I put some coffee on for you?”
The Heist Page 21