by Tillie Cole
She didn’t respond for several seconds, but then her arms slid around my waist and pulled me down to the bed. Flattening me to the mattress, hands on my shoulders, she straddled my waist, leaned down, and pressed her lips to mine. But the kiss was softer this time; she wasn’t letting me take her mouth aggressively like I had every time we’d kissed before… No, this chick was determined to make me feel, dredging up shit I’d buried down deep.
Breaking from the kiss, Aliyana put her hands on my cheeks and said, “You are worth your weight in gold, Elpi. You are someone, someone real special.”
My nostrils flared as I fought back a lump clogging up my throat. She had no fucking idea how much that meant to me. She was dead wrong. But still, those words fucking pierced me.
Shifting her legs off my waist, Aliyana jumped off the bed and wrapped a bed sheet around her chest. I didn’t move from my place on the bed, choosing to watch her as she walked about the room. Her inquisitive eyes drank in every part of my studio: my tool station, the area where I molded the clay templates of my sculptures, the desk that normally held my sketches… and finally, her eyes fixed on my current work in progress.
My stomach clenched as I watched her cautiously approach the nearly finished piece, her experienced curator eyes assessing every inch of it. And I saw every single emotion slide across her gaze: excitement, curiosity… then sadness, real gutting sadness.
As Aliyana circled the sculpture, she stopped when she reached the front, and I noted her mouth dropping open as the full effect of the sculpture came into view. Her eyes filled with water and she stepped closer to the finished young boy unsteadily holding a gun in his tiny hands, his unnaturally wide eyes crying blood and bullets. Then I watched as her gaze traveled to the twenty-something man behind him, holding the little boy’s gun arm steady, pushing him to fire.
The marble man wasn’t finished yet. His face wasn’t yet carved. I hadn’t quite brought myself to add his features. My features on that fucking guy I didn’t recognize as me no more, forcing his baby brother to kill…
I tensed, waiting for the damn storm of questions Aliyana would no doubt ask about its inspiration, but to my surprise, she simply wiped her eyes, not once glancing my way. Instead she moved to the far side of the room, to the big-ass piano Vin had sitting in here.
As Aliyana’s hand ran over the shiny black grand her head whipped round to me. “Is this yours?” she asked breathlessly.
“Vin’s,” I replied, my eyebrows furrowed with curiosity as I watched her stroke it like it was a precious stone.
Aliyana turned back to the piano and made her way to its front. She lifted the lid to reveal the keys. “It’s beautiful,” she admired in awe and looked to me again. “It’s a Steinway concert grand.”
Shuffling further forward on the bed, I rolled onto my side, my hand propping up my head. “You play?”
Aliyana nodded, still star struck by the damn piano, and laughed once. “I’ve played my whole life. My mama does too, and she taught me. But we only had a regular piano… nothing like this.” Aliyana sat on the piano stool and caressed the white and black ivories.
“The piano was my life when I was a kid. And I still love to play. Still love to get lost in the melody of my favorite piece.” Aliyana bent forward and inhaled, her face lighting up. “It’s gorgeous.”
I didn’t know what it was, maybe the passion and joy I saw dancing in her eyes, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her as she sat on that dusty leather stool covered only in a sheet, a sheet that we’d just fucked on. Her long hair was messy and fell loosely over her shoulder.
She looked like a painting.
Aliyana released both hands from the sheet, causing it to fall to her waist. I bit back a groan as her round tits were bared. But Aliyana didn’t notice me watching her. Instead, she flexed her hands, and with an excited smile pulling on her lips, she positioned her fingers above the keys.
I held my breath as the first note rang out, her eyes focused as she tested the sound, her feet shifting forward to press on the pedals.
Then, closing her eyes, a serene expression spread across her beautiful face. Aliyana began to play… perfectly play a piece of music like she was trained by Mozart or some shit. A piece of music that couldn’t have suited her, and her infectious attitude any better. The notes were laced with hope, love and joy… like a lullaby, but more powerful. The melodic notes made me feel like my life could get better. Because that’s what Aliyana did, she made me feel like my life could get better.
I had no idea why, but this piece of music she was playing, started to bring tears to my eyes, like a motherfucking pussy. It was like she was telling me with song how she felt about me… about us… about what we’d just done.
I focused on Aliyana playing that music, her facial expressions changing with every new section: from happy to sad, from tearful to complete adoration. I’d never seen anyone look like they belonged somewhere as much she did on the stool in front of that piano, playing the most fucking beautiful piece of music I’d ever heard.
I was completely wrapped up in everything that was her. Her long, slim fingers slowed to play a quieter, less complicated section of the song, her head swaying from side to side, lost in the notes. At that sight, something seized my body, ran like lava through my blood. A thing I hadn’t dared let myself feel for… I didn’t honestly know if I ever had felt it before…
Hope.
Being with Aliyana like this… her accepting soul only seeing me for me and not my past, a fucking unwarranted blind faith… she filled me with hope.
Lei era speranza… She was hope. La mia luce… my light.
It reminded me of what my mamma would hope for me when the gang had me deep in its clutches. I’d kiss her good-bye, heading out to meet Gio and my crew as Mamma lay unmoving in her small bed, her ALS keeping her body hostage. She’d watch me with those huge sad eyes, eyes that prayed for our lives to be better, and she’d brokenly whisper, Io prego perché tu possa trovare la tua luce, mio figlio smarrito… I pray you find your light, my lost son…
My heart beat faster as the memory invaded my mind, constricting my chest. Aliyana’s fingers slowed as if she could sense I was fucking falling apart inside, the sweet sounding melody gradually coming to it’s close.
Something inside me took over, and unable to stop myself, I slid off the bed and silently crossed the room. I moved to stand behind Aliyana just as her fingers on one hand danced over the higher keys of the piano, the final high-pitched note hanging in the air.
Before she’d even had a chance to move her hands from the keys and her bare feet from the pedals, I took her chin in my hand from behind, turning her face to press her lips against mine. The pressure in my chest disappeared as soon as her sweet taste entered my mouth.
Shocked at my action, Aliyana moaned into my mouth, her arm rising up to wrap round my neck. Without breaking the kiss, I hooked my arm around her waist and lifted her off the stool, her back flush against my front. I walked us forward just a few steps to the side of the piano, our tongues still clashing. Unable to wait any longer, I leaned her forward to press her stomach against the cold wood of the grand, still keeping her lips on mine. Hooking her right leg over the inside of my elbow, I raised it enough to open up her pussy, and in one steady push, slid my cock deep inside her. I wasn’t rushing this. I wasn’t fucking her now… It was something more… because she was more…
Aliyana slipped her mouth from mine as she quietly cried out my name. “Elpi…”
Slowly gliding up my arm, her free hand lay on top of mine over her stomach. As I rocked within her, my thighs burning from the feel, Aliyana lifted my hand and entwined her fingers within mine.
Dragging in a breath at the feel of her small hand squeezing mine so gently had me fighting to not drop to my knees and fucking beg her to never leave this room. We didn’t need the world outside. We had this room. We had just her and me in this room.
When Aliyana glanced back to meet my ey
es, I paused inside her and stared right back. There was no music playing to drown everything out, no words said to break the silence… It was the most intense and meaningful moment of my life. Here, deep inside this woman who only knew the man I was now, not the unfeeling bastard I was before, was my more.
I’d never once thought that I deserved a second chance, never wanted one. As far as I was concerned, I deserved to spend the rest of my life miserable for what I’d done. But here, deep inside the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, the woman who just got me, I was bartering with God to let me keep her… just for a while… to keep feeling… this… whatever this was…
“Tu sei bella…” You are beautiful, I whispered and noticed Aliyana’s eyes glisten. She careened forward and pressed a brief kiss on my lips, then tilted her head to the side, urging me to kiss down her neck. My hips started rocking again, Aliyana lightly panting with every drawn-out thrust.
Aliyana tightened her grip around my neck, and with our entwined fingers holding tight, I built up speed, taking us further and further to the edge.
Minutes later, our damp skin scalding hot, Aliyana quietly moaned as she came. Her eyes fluttered closed and, after two more thrusts, I tucked my nose into her hair and came too.
“Elpi…” Aliyana murmured quietly, and I tightened my arm around her waist. I held her as close as I physically could. And Aliyana let me. Let me hold on to our connection without saying a word.
“What was that music you played?” I suddenly asked. “Just now, what was that?”
“Yiruma’s “Kiss the Rain,”” she answered breathlessly, her tired body sagging in my arms.
I committed the title of that song to memory. “Kiss the Rain.”
Pulling out of her, I scooped her up in my arms, only stopping to lift the sheet off the floor, and carried her back to my bed. As we lay down, Aliyana softly peppered kisses all over my face before resting her cheek affectionately on my chest.
“I’ve missed you, Elpi…” she whispered sleepily.
I squeezed her closer to my side, wishing I could tell her I’d missed her too. Instead, I curtly ordered, “You’re staying here tonight.”
Aliyana nuzzled into my chest and I felt the muscles in her cheeks pull into a smile. “From the first time I ever saw your angel sculpture, it seared my heart… I always knew if I could meet you in the flesh, your soul would do the same.”
The words she spoke might as well have been a fucking Hail Mary from God himself, a free pass for the fucked-up sins of my past. But that could never be true. I had to pay the piper. I’d ruined lives. Karma didn’t work this way, giving you everything you could dream of without paying some kind of price.
I pressed my cheek on the top of her head and closed my eyes.
It was the first time I’d slept right through the night without waking up to cold sweats and an unbearable anger killing me inside.
Chapter Eleven
Ally
As I woke to the bright sun filtering through the large windows of the studio, the rays lighting up his muscled naked body, it felt like I was caught in a dream.
Elpidio’s strong arms were still holding me close; he’d never let go all night. I treasured the touch of this closed off, tortured man, but felt a deep pit swell in my stomach.
What was he hiding about himself that was so terrible?
What was haunting his genius mind, pushing anyone away from getting too close? Warning me to stay away?
Lifting my fingers, I traced them gently over his rugged face, focusing my attention on the black crucifix which dominated his left cheek. The lines looked like he’d done it himself, the center of the cross seeming to cover something underneath.
Eyes following fingers, I ran them down his short, soft beard to his neck, tattoos covering every inch of skin. Unfamiliar symbols, images of Italy and cryptic words featured in most of the designs. These designs led to similar works on his chest, the centerpiece an intricate rosary falling to his sternum.
It was beautiful.
But on closer inspection, my eyebrows furrowed as I studied a number of slash scars and what looked like stab wounds on his abs and stomach.
They all looked bad, but none as painful-looking as the one on the back of his neck.
How the hell did he get them all?
I thought back to the numerous questions about his past which had gone unanswered: the tragic background to his sculptures, the tightly pristine made bed when I walked into the studio last night, the scars, and the fact he hadn’t been with a woman in years.
As I cast my eyes over his current sculpture, the boy with a gun, crying blood and bullet tears, one thought came to mind: Was he military? Was that why he was so closed off? So jaded by people… by life?
A loud beep sounded from across the room, the shrill noise waking Elpi, his dark sleepy eyes blinking open. I held my breath as he looked down. His eyebrows knitted together as if he was confused by seeing me sprawled across his chest. But when a hint of a smile hooked on the corner of his top lip, I felt a swarm of butterflies invade my stomach.
“Hi,” I whispered.
“Alright,” he whispered back in his sexy deep drawl. Leaning his mouth down to meet mine, our lips touched just as my cell sounded again.
Groaning at the interruption, I reared back. “I have to go,” I announced, reluctantly.
Elpi looked over to the large clock hanging on the far wall and nodded. His face darkened like a bad thought had run through his mind, but then it disappeared just as quickly as it came.
Pressing a final playful kiss on his hard abs, I rolled off the side of the bed, hissing as my bare feet hit the freezing cold tiled floor. As I moved to stand, Elpi’s hand caught my arm, causing me to glance back at him.
The conflict that played across his face confused me, but then on a reluctant sigh, he said, “Come back tonight.” It appeared to pain him to utter those words. My heart melted, knowing what displaying so much vulnerability must have cost him emotionally.
The butterflies in my stomach swooped and dipped again and, smiling, I nodded my head. “It’ll be late, though. I’m out with friends all day and most of the night.”
He threw me a curt nod, his face remaining unmoved and serious. Reaching out my hand, I threaded his fingers through mine. “I wish I didn’t have to go.”
As he squeezed my hands, I blushed. I knew that was him telling me he wished I didn’t have to go either.
Resenting having to attend the Seahawks' season opening game today, I forced myself to leave the bed and dress.
Elpi sat up on the bed, the sheet riding low on his hips as he lit up a cigarette and held it between his lips, looking like a darker, more disturbed version of James Dean.
He was living, breathing poetry. Not love poetry, but the poetry which tears out your heart, rips it to shreds, pushes it back into your chest, and makes you question what the hell just obliterated your soul?
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him as I pulled up my dress over my breasts, his man bun seductively awry, his ripped tattoo-covered abs tensing as his arm moved up and down to hold his cigarette as he inhaled. When he blew out the smoke, small lines etched round his eyes; the severe effect screamed danger. I was completely infatuated with this man.
Elpidio caught me staring as he scratched his nails over the skin on his broad chest. His eyes lit with blatant desire, and he flicked his chin. “Get the fuck outta here or you won’t be going nowhere.”
Exhaling a shuddering breath at his curt demand, I strode to the bed, where Elpi balanced the cigarette on his full bottom lip—an action that was beginning to destroy me at how damn sexy it was.
When I stopped a foot away, Elpi reached out his hand to grip my hips, then jerked me closer until I lay sprawled over his body. Releasing one of his hands, he moved his cigarette from his mouth and blew out the smoke, the thick cloud billowing past my face, the rich tobacco scent mixed with his natural musk eliciting a groan from the back of my throat.
“You’re fucking coming back tonight,” he growled, making sure I knew to obey his command. At the uncensored heat in his eyes, all I could do was nod in agreement as his hand on my hip trailed down to run a finger along the outline of my pussy.
Forcing myself to bite back a moan and walk away, I picked up my purse from the floor and headed out without looking back.
As I opened the door of the studio, I sharply sucked in breath, letting the cool air calm me down. As I exhaled, I tipped my head to the sky and laughed in happiness.
My heart felt alive. My soul felt… my soul felt… fused… melded to Elpidio’s. There was no explanation other than I understood there was a good man beneath all the tattoos and the barrier he deployed to keep people at arm's length. A good man whose soul smiled when I played my favorite piece of music on the piano, a piece that meant so much to my heart. He’d had to make love to me…
Fused.
Nothing else described this new sensation of completion within me.
Hearing my cell beep again, I growled at the interruption. Jogging to my car, I opened up my messages. There were two.
MOLLY: IT’S GAME DAY!!!
And again…
MOLLY: I’ve tried to call you three times, but there’s no response. And I noticed you didn’t come home last night… after you went to Elpidio’s… So I’m assuming things went well? YAY! But we need to leave in an hour if we’re to make the game. Rome would love you there.
I smiled as I read Molly’s last text and sent her quick response that I was on my way home. She was going to grill me for details. I just knew it.
*****
“Holy shit, Molls! How the other half live, hey?” I said, shaking my head at the opulence of the décor as Molly led the way into Rome’s private suite in the CenturyLink stadium. I walked to the floor-to-ceiling wall of glass offering a perfect view of the field and whistled low. It was amazing. From this position, we would have the best view of the game.
Typical Rome. Buying an expensive suite just so his pregnant wife would be safe and warm while he played.