by S. W. Frank
“Cynthia.”
“Hi Cynthia, this here’s my date.”
“My name’s Selange, Cynthia and I need you to give me two shot glasses and your best vodka. I’m getting a tattoo later and I don’t want to feel anything but good.”
Cynthia’s painted lips stifled a grin. The handsome couple on a date. How cute. “Alright, on the rocks or not?”
Alfonzo reached in his pocket, unclipped two large bills and slid them across the shiny counter, “Let’s go easy. A bottle of your Zacapa. One bottle, no chasers. No shot glass, tumblers, por favore.”
Cynthia nodded, the woman’s date was smart, he opted to give her rum, much sweeter on the palette. Hot guy, too. She liked gentlemen and that one was sexy, one hundred percent handsome proof. She went to fetch the bottle and returned in less than a minute, sat the tumblers atop thin bamboo coasters, opened the bottle then left the couple to their drinks and assisted other customers bellying up to the bar.
The sizable tip from the hot guy in the tux went straight into her bra. Benjamin Franklin snuggled right on her breast like her hubby sleeping at home.
Alfonzo poured the dark brown, amber colored spirit, and an aroma of oak wafted to his nose. A very distinct odor not typically found in rum. He wanted her to have a super flavorful experience. He swiveled on the stool, nudged a glass to her and asked, “Ready?”
“Damn straight!” She downed the heavy sweet liquid and smiled. “This is good.”
Alfonzo leisurely drank as she poured more, filling the glass to the rim and he thought how amateur, but she’s the one getting inked, he wasn’t and he couldn’t wait.
Only three drinks and boom. His babe was falling apart, talking inappropriately, in other words super drunk. Alfonzo was relaxed but far from drunk. He helped Selange from the stool, “Tattoo or home?”
“You’re not squirming out on me...that’s not right…honey…I think I’m drunk.”
“You think?”
She stopped, blinked then passionately affirmed, “I’m toasted.”
“Yep, mujer. You are.” He held her by the waist and walked her over so they could say good-bye to his mom.
Maria and Bruno were sitting and laughing when they approached and his mother looked up, “Everything okay hijo?”
“We’re leaving mama, buenos noche.”
Selange chimed in, “Take care mama…bye mister hottie…take care of my second mom…alright now kids…have fun. I’m getting a tattoo…right here…”
Maria looked disapprovingly at Alfonzo when Selange pointed between her legs. “Good night Selange and hijo I will call tomorrow to check on her.”
“And I will call to make sure you get home safely mama,” he said while glaring at Bruno, “Adios.”
He steered Selange toward the door and once she reached the brisk air she stopped to inhale as if she’d been oxygen deprived, “Aaaahhh, that’s nice.”
“Okay babe, let’s keep moving.”
“My tattoo…did I get it already?” She lift the hem of her gown to check. Damn woman hiked the silk fabric right up to her thigh and he instantly covered her hand and tugged the dress down. Chica wanted to give everybody a show.
“Babe, there’s no tattoo.”
“What, why not, you promised?” Her gait was unsteady as she leaned on him like a savior, “Come on honey…I want it…” her mouth puckered, “please…please…please honeybunch…my babies daddy...my amor…fine ass thing you.” She giggled, “Papi...big daddy….I’ll be good.”
Lou hurried to his aid, “You need some help boss?”
Alfonzo laughed, “Nah, Lou. I’m good.” He had a tight hold, besides he thoroughly enjoyed hearing the inebriated woman talk. “Lou, did we pass a tattoo parlor?”
Selange’s diatribe of endearments continued, “You’re so cute…oh…no…wait…you’re hot…yep…you know it don’t you?”
“Yeah, it’s right over there.” Lou smiled as Selange’s voice trailed on.
“My lady wants a tattoo.”
Lou laughed, “Drunken sailors do it all the time.”
“They sure do.”
And that’s where they went. An all-night tattoo parlor with a lively group of drunken revelers getting everything from pledges to tribal; passing beers and laughing at their friends even Alfonzo got in on the fun.
There she lie, his silly can’t drink for shit woman in an expensive ball gown hiked up to her waist. The shapely long legs open and giving the tattoo artist an introduction to satin and lace with Alfonzo’s cautious eyes on the man, making sure he didn’t botch the job.
Every buzzing of the needle as it etched across her lovely skin received an, “Ooh-ooh-ooh,” from Selange’s lips as if she were giving birth.
The tiny picture of a beehive marked:ALFONZO’S HONEY, started to take shape and the drippings she wanted going toward her sweetness were perfect liquid shaped spots.
She did the, “Oooh-oooh-oooh,” sound and every time Alfonzo heard it his smile widened. She was losing the bet big-time. When the buzzing instrument descended closer to the lateral area near her pubic mound, the panting ooh’s increased in volume.
Bow-tie loosened, jacket clutched in his arm, beer in hand, he chuckled.
‘Anything breaking the skin near the pelvic line hurts like hell woman and I warnedyou, didn’t I?’
Of course, liquor numbs the effect a bit but her stubborn ass was sobering up quick on the last design. He could tell by the contortion of her face and the loud shrieking of, “Oh My God that hurts!”
Alfonzo battled the urge to find humor in her pain but goddammit, it didn’t work and he bent over spilling some of his beer and howling with mirth at the woman he desperately wanted as his wife.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Thanks I had a wonderful time,” Maria said from the vestibule.
It was three in the morning; the faint sounds of sirens in the distance were the backdrop music after one of the best evenings she had in forever. Bruno had been a perfect gentleman all night and she decided to invite him in for coffee. He accepted and took a seat on the sofa.
She removed her shawl and shoes then busied herself in the kitchen, pulling down cups, fussing nervously to herself, wondering whether she’d made a mistake inviting Bruno in at this late hour.
She ran water into the kettle, turned on the burner and stood there trying to collect her thoughts on how to proceed. Then she felt a presence, smelled familiar masculine cologne and a warm breath at her neck. She did not need to turn; it could only be one man. Firm hands settled on her hips, and the mouth on her neck made her gasp not in fear but excitement. There were no words to explain the sensation burning her like the flickering flame.
Bruno massaged her breasts as his mouth grew bolder and traipsed the slope of her neck to the edge of her bare shoulder. He whispered, “Bella,” then spun her around to face him and Maria did not protest when his mouth crushed hers in the most passionate kiss it almost caused her knees to go limp.
The moan in her throat caused him to pull away and she breathed in air. “Bruno.”
He reached around her and shut the burner off, “I have wanted to kiss you for over thirty years Maria.” He cupped her face, “Now I want more than a kiss, I want you,” and then his mouth covered hers in ardent want.
The touches on her skin of a man after Luzo burned imprints into her skin and she tensed, uncertain, utterly afraid. He slowed, took her hands, kissed her fingers and stepped back. “Are you afraid?”
Her doe eyes did not lie, “Yes.”
“Afraid of me or getting hurt?”
“Both.”
“I will never hurt you Maria, never!”
Maria’s fingers went to her throat to grasp her beads but they wer
e not there. They were in her purse. “You can’t promise that. You’re a man.”
“And there is no man you trust?”
Maria considered the question, “My son.”
“I want to earn your trust. How do I do that Maria, tell me?”
She had no answer and sighed, “It’s been so long since I’ve trusted anyone Bruno. Luzo hurt me with his lies and it hasn’t been easy to forget the foolishness of my heart.”
“And what keeps you warm at night, is it regret?”
This question surprised Maria and she frowned. “Having faith is a comfort, it warms me.”
His hand traced the contours of her arm, “Let me keep you warm, let me comfort you and show you the beauty of loving again. I am not Luzo, my secrets I’ve revealed. It is how much I wanted you and still want you now.”
She was nervous and stuttered. “Bruno…I…I…”
He took her hand and led her from the kitchen into the hallway. He did not release her hand until he found her bedroom and they were inside the neat confines of her sanctuary. The place no man ventured except this once.
He walked to the bed and sat on the edge of it, his eyes on Maria. “Sit with me.”
Her feet moved slowly as if in a trance. The holy figure with his head bowed seemed to watch her approach from its place on the wall overlooking her bed. The votive candle sitting next to prayer beads on the night stand were symbols of her faith and caused her to pause.
Bruno smiled and the words, “You are beautiful. A woman as special as you are deserves to be loved,” flowed from his mouth in a seductive caress.
Maria reached the bed and sat stiffly and placed shaky hands on her lap, praying silently, asking forgiveness for wanting to be touched and adored and to feel the power of Bruno’s passion. When he put his hand on her knee and leaned to her she tensed. He was patient and kissed her slow. In the exploration he shifted and she felt the clasp unleash at her spine and her dress was brought down from her shoulders. Bruno’s actions were smooth as water, undressing her with ease. Trailing kisses on her body as he did so. The path of the kisses were going down and he was kneeling at her feet, removing her shoes, then kissing her toes with adoring pecks. He stood upright, staring down like a giant tower, admiring her naked flesh. The dress was at her waist and instinctively under his gaze she crossed her arms over her breasts.
“Do not cover yourself; there is nothing shameful in nudity. In the Garden of Eden a man and woman were naked, and they knew not shame. We are in that place you and I, Eden is in the mind.”
Bruno stepped out of his shoes. He smiled as he removed his suit and cloth by cloth she watched each one drop to the floor. His body was powerfully built, the beauty of a mature man who takes care of himself. Firm and strong, lovely to her eyes and glorious to behold. The sculpted man’s desire was evident by the prominence of his staff. It was erect and aimed in her direction. The size of it took her aback. He was quite large and fear resurfaced. Luzo she could not recall his girth, it was too long ago.
In the span of her indecision and fear, Bruno returned to the bed and the dress was tugged away. Maria sighed, resigned to her lustful soul. She devoted her life to her son and her faith. In this hour of the morning she wanted Bruno DeMarco to bring her carnal pleasure. Her desire surged and instead of damnation, she became alive when his fingers caressed, cajoled and loosened the feminine folds of dormant flesh. The sparks were lit the moment the tip of his corona contacted with her highly sensitive skin. A sensual kiss of sorts is what it was prior to him delving without further hesitation to a secret chamber she’d locked away after Luzo stole her trust with his deceptive heart.
Tonight it’s Bruno whose charm and patience reignited the flame shining light in the dark. Maria muttered, “Dios…oh…oh…”
The firmness of his staff threw wide her partitions and she let him in. Her resolve collapsed and with it came a profuse apology to her God for feeling such pleasure and rejoicing in what Luzo awakened many years ago when he caused her to sin. But, Bruno was not Luzo. He was a widower, not pledged to another woman and she was wiser and could no longer deny the wondrous titillation.
“Dios lo siento per eso es bueno perdóname oh sí sí Bruno Dios es bueno.”
Bruno had assuaged her fears and took possession of her body and sent the trepidation away and reminded her of the carnal pleasures of the flesh. He helped her rediscover Maria, the sensual woman within and gave her back what another man took.
Trust and tenderness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ariana leaned over the sink, feeling woozy. She awakened to find Nico gone and a note on the nightstand saying he had business to attend to and probably wouldn’t be back until next week. Their arrangement had gone on for almost two months. He practically bunked at her apartment every night since.
Today was Saturday, the boys were with her parents and she didn’t expect him to leave at the crack of dawn. She should have known not to expect anything from Nico, permanency wasn’t his middle name. Tomorrow was her parent’s Golden Anniversary and she had hoped he’d stay put this once…just once for her, for the kids.
Gosh, her entire family was heading to Long Island for the celebration and she so wanted Nico there.
She rinsed her face with cold water, hoping the slight dizziness passed but it stayed when she trudged into the kitchen to boil water for tea. It stayed after she called to say good morning to the boys and then worry began to set in.
She called the doctor’s office and was given an immediate appointment. Ariana wasn’t the chronically ill kind or intermittent sick type of woman. She had annual physicals, ate rather healthy and popped vitamins daily. Last month, a toothache turned to an abscess and she got that taken care of immediately. It was cleaned, filled and antibiotics put her right back in the healthy zone. So, persistent dizziness was definitely an abnormal symptom and a sign of something terribly wrong. She feared the worse. Her analytical brain found diseases to claim, brain tumor, heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes and any malady known to man were possibilities. But after a few tests and a once over from Doctor Bruckner, she walked out of his office with a diagnosis of pregnancy.
What the fuck?
On the walk home. Five long blocks she cried the entire way, getting stares and questions of concern from strangers which shocked her to no end because this was New York City where nobody gave a damn. Didn’t they say New Yorkers were rude and crass, so why were they concerned with an emotional wreck of a woman they never met?
She called Nico, oh yes she called the ex-husband, he played a role in this dilemma. He deserved to share some of her stress. Let him go about his killing day knowing there’s a surprise bundle on the way. Bet he’ll take a day off to process what it meant because something unexpected and long-term certainly messed with your head.
Their lives would change. For one, she was over 35 and with age the risks increase. Two, she lived in a small Manhattan apartment, three, she wasn’t the same young woman with loads of patience, stars in her eyes and ready to enter motherhood with fierce determination to be the best at it and to hell with needing a man. Raising children is hard, no lie. She did it with Nico in absentia eighty percent of the time, but there were days when she lay down crying, wanting his aid. Of course, she never told him that. Lawyers don’t show the weakness of their case. They work around the flaw and that’s what she did. She didn’t want Nico worried when he was out there. She wanted him safe and alive. So, she handled the business of child-rearing alone if that meant he’d live to see them grow. And the brave woman Nico believed she was, inside was terrified and on edge every day praying the father of her boys didn’t get killed.
With Nico around, spending time with the boys, doing things a father should and cooking, she liked it. She didn’t want to do this baby thing alone. Not this time…God not this time. She
was tired of being independent, a man to lean on felt pretty good.
She trudged on, cursing the false sense of security when taking contraception. Ha, what a joke. She was on this new one which claimed to be fully safe and 99% effective. I’m the 1%!
Christ, the gynecologist never warned her to use back-up contraception if she took antibiotics due to its potential to render oral contraception ineffective. If the woman did, she must’ve forgotten and Ari didn’t forget important details like that. These details a woman should know. Come on do a PSA on the shit, they do commercials on the effects of smoking and substance abuse; why not crap like this, huh?
Nico came on the line as she walked the last leg of the city block. Her building was right there. It towered into the sky like all the rest and she couldn’t wait to get there, climb in bed and have a sob fest. Damn, the boys were nearly grown and here she was pregnant by her ex.
“Ari, talk me to sweetheart.”
“Oh Nico…I’m devastated.”
“What happened?”
“Something huge is about to happen to me!”
“Hey, calm down and make sense so I can understand what’s going on.”
She stopped in her tracks. Her face became flushed. Did she smell hot dogs and pastrami? Ugh, the mixture of meats and pollution which were never offensive before suddenly made her nauseous and she puked in the middle of the sidewalk. The stares of pity and the, “Are you okay miss?” Had her retching even more. She waved the busybodies away, “I’m fine…please…back off… I’m just pregnant. Can’t a pregnant woman vomit in peace dammit?”
The worry turned to ‘ohpoorthing’ expressions and then they marched on.
“Ari, you’re what?” Nico exclaimed when she put the phone back to her ear and wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her favorite wool coat.
“Pregnant Nico. Oh Jesus, I’m pregnant after all these years.”
“I’ll be there in less than an hour.” Then he hung up.
Seriously, what would Nico’s return solve? Maybe, he’d take the baton and carry the fetus the distance. Wow, that’ll be cool. A stud like him with a huge belly feinding for ice-cream and other decadent foods would be a laugh. Ah, wishful thinking didn’t help. They were divorced, she was in the prime of her life, no intention of having more kids and look at her independent ass now.