“What do you think?”
“Of this place?”
He nods.
“I love it.” I pause. “But I need to use the restroom after the long ride.”
“It’s just around the corner of the building.”
I go to the bathroom to freshen up but when I come back I freeze in my tracks, slowly moving back behind the edge of the building, keeping my face behind one of the big white stones that make it up as I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
A woman in a red dress is practically on top of Stefano, as she’s impossibly close to him, leaning in, which puts her torso above his lap. He’s not having it, and he’s not allowing it, but he’s not standing, yelling, or anything like that either.
She points down at him with a single finger as if she’s scolding a child. He says nothing, remaining calm, yet he’s allowing her to treat him like this…and in public.
I can barely believe it and have no idea where she came from, until she reaches for the serving tray on the other table and almost drops it on his table, the coffee cups rattling and some of the coffee spilling out over the top.
She goes to slap him, but he catches her forearm and pulls her in close.
Is he going to…kiss her?
He doesn’t, instead just staring into her eyes and holding her deep stare before he says something through gritted teeth.
She pulls back and he releases her. Straightening out her dress she quickly moves to go back into the coffee shop but she spots me.
“Oh no.” I dart my head back, but know it’s too late. I’ve been caught.
My heart racing, my palms sweating, I step out from the side of the building and she’s walking right at me, yelling at me now.
“Speak in English around Sloane,” he says, as if he’s already told her my name.
She keeps freaking out in Italian. I’m not sure if she’s speaking more with her hands or her mouth, but both are going a mile a minute.
Finally she just stomps and huffs off back inside.
I make my way to my seat and Stefano apologizes for her behavior.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. She’s just angry.”
“Is that your…girlfriend.”
“No,” he says.
I’m not totally satisfied with his one word answer. Seconds ago a buxom brunette that’s the spitting image of a young Monica Bellucci was clearly angry at him. Angry in the way of a scorned lover who saw her new…competition? Is that what I am? Is this what this is?
And what was up with that old guy greeting Stefano like he was the end all be all? Is that her dad, or maybe her grandfather, wanting Stefano back in this girl’s life?
Hard to say, and Stefano’s not saying anything else as he tips back his double espresso.
Suddenly that cappuccino I was so looking forward to isn’t looking so good.
I stab at it with the little spoon, but eventually just release the spoon and stare off into the distance.
“You don’t like the coffee.”
“I still have energy from the ride, so I probably don’t need caffeine.”
“You’ll need it to explore the city today. That and lunch.”
“I’ll wait, and to be honest I’m not sure if I want to explore this city. I’ve seen enough.”
Stefano downs his coffee in one gulp and stands. “Let’s go then.”
He reaches for my hand, but I just march off back toward the bike, climbing on the beast myself before realizing that’s going to make it hard for him to get on…to swing that tree trunk of a leg of his over.
But he does.
And he doesn’t say anything else into the mic on the ride back.
Nothing about what happened, the scenery, or us…or just who that absolutely stunning woman was…the one who seemed like she had a very vested interest in whatever relationship she has with him.
CHAPTER 22
Sloane
We arrive back in Palermo at the villa and I’m still not sure if Stefano is angry about the girl or about me.
“Stefano? Talk to me.” I say as he helps me off the bike and then just casually walks into the house.
“About what?”
“About what? About what happened.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Exactly!” I fume. “We had some sort of day lined up and some sort of surprise and now we’re back here. I have a feeling that whatever was planned is no longer.”
“That’s right,” he says going inside.
“Uh!” I exhale hard and follow him in.
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“Let’s go,” he says, turning right around and holding the door open for me so I can step right back outside.
We walk down to the vineyard, and I follow Stefano right through a row.
“You know how long these grapes have been here?”
“No.”
“Hundreds of years. Hundreds. That’s what makes them so amazing. That’s what gives them the taste. These plants have seen centuries of sun, rain, the moon, everything. They say nothing and see everything, kind of like me and my nature.”
He continues walking, dragging his hand along the vines until he stops. Picks one grape and puts it in front of my mouth.
“Not right now.”
“Take it. Try it.”
I reach for it, refusing to eat it from his fingers, and then put it in my mouth.
“And?” he asks.
“It’s delicious. I’m not sure if this makes sense at all, but it’s kind of…fiery. It’s like a lit match on your tongue.”
“Exactly, and you didn’t even know that’s how we market it. See, that’s the thing about us Italians…we’re fiery. And that goes double for the life I chose, or the life that chose me.”
“And that woman that was all up on you earlier today looking like a lover scorned.”
“A lover scorned?” he repeats, before laughing so hard his hand finds his belly. “That’s what this is about?”
“I don’t know because you won’t tell me.”
“I was trying to introduce you to her, but she heard from Lorenzo that I made a scene last night.”
“Lorenzo?”
“The child.”
My head cocks back. Why would a child tell her anything?
“I see the look on your face, but you’re not connecting the dots.”
“What dots, and why was she so angry at me?”
“Because, she said who am I to point fingers at her for her life choices when I’m making the same mistake, her words not mine, as she did.”
“What mistake?”
“She thinks you are too young, just as she is.”
“Too young for what? Can you please just tell me plainly what you’re trying to say?”
“She is my sister, the lover of Giorgio, and Lorenzo’s mother.”
I pull back.
“I was furious when Giorgio said he wanted to separate after Lorenzo was born. I wanted to put him in the ground, but my sister told me she still loved him and she’d find a way to work it out. She pleaded with me, failing to realize that that’s his way, but still…she is my sister and I must respect her and give her the time she needs. Just like I respect your father even though he made a bad decision with his gambling choices.”
I’d almost forgot all about dad, but he just had to bring him up.
“So she’s the up-and-coming actress?”
“Yes, and that was always her dream so I made it happen, telling her to be careful of those snakes in Rome that make movies. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen to her…for some Roman hotshot, our equivalent of your Hollywood hotshot, to tell her everything she wanted to hear just to get in her pants.”
I say nothing.
“Blood is thicker than water and if he doesn’t make the right choice about his child soon I will have to do what I have to do, regardless of my sister’s wishes. There’s only so much time a man can have before he
reveals that he’s just like a leopard and his spots will never change.”
“And what exactly does it mean when you do what you do?”
“I think you know,” he says moving closer to me.
“What are you waiting on then?” I say, still trying to understand exactly what’s going on despite Stefano’s intimidating presence, although his look is more lustful than anything else. Those eyes are burning with hunger and damn if it doesn’t distract my thoughts…or make me lose them all together.
“Because I think he knows about my parents.”
“Where are your parents?”
“Killed in a helicopter crash…on a sunny day almost five years ago now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Whoever killed them is going to be sorry. That’s who’s sorry.”
“It wasn’t an accident?”
“I don’t believe in accidents when it comes to the world we live in. I’m surrounded by the most cold-blooded, calculated, manipulative killers on the planet. If for one second you think that something might have happened by chance, well, that’s the first second you not only question the world around you but that others start questioning just how much time you have left to live. You show weakness, and you’re through.”
“So when your parent’s died you didn’t show any emotion?”
“Show, none. Feel, yes. And I immediately got to work trying to find out who was behind it. That’s also when Julia went to Rome. It gave me more time to think alone, and it was good to get her mind off things. Unfortunately it landed her right in Giorgio’s hands.”
“But isn’t your sister about my age? How could she have a baby Lorenzo’s age?”
“She’s twenty-five, she just looks younger.”
“And what about Giorgio?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“I mean, why do you think he knows?”
“Because his family also made his wishes come true years ago, sending him to be the next great Italian actor…the next Marcello Mastroianni.”
“So his family is…”
“Yes, connected. Just like mine. And the death of my parents only strengthens his family at this time. Not only that he insisted that my sister stay in Rome with him that day. She was also supposed to be taking that tour of Tuscany with my parents, but Giorgio was adamant that she not to go.”
“You think he knew?”
“He knew something, and that something is what I intend to find out…and make him pay for it.”
I’ve just learned more about Stefano in the last three minutes than I have since I met him.
“You always make people pay, don’t you?”
“If they’ve done me wrong I must. If you allow them to do something to you and you don’t hit back ten times harder then they are most likely going to do it again and again and again and again.”
“What about my dad?”
“What about him?”
“Once his debt is cleared are you going to make him pay some more?”
“No. He won’t be allowed to gamble with me again.”
“What if he uses different names or credit cards or anything like that?”
“I’ve taken steps to make sure he can’t and won’t.”
“What do you mean, won’t?” I swallow hard.
“I will not harm your father. He’s your flesh and blood and that means everything to me, no matter his past choices.”
“Why does he mean anything to you? Why does he matter?”
“Because we’ve been friends for years and more importantly, now, he matters to you, and you matter to me.”
He closes the distance between us and his lips come crashing down on mine just as the sky cracks with thunder and raindrops begin to fall.
CHAPTER 23
Stefano
Raindrops find my head and shoulders but it’s not nearly enough to cool me down.
I’m burning up for her.
Something about telling her more than I’ve ever told anyone in my life is more than I can handle. It’s not just the primal, physical, with this girl. It’s the mental connection too…even if it manifests itself in the physical.
All I know is we’re so together on every wavelength it’s scary.
Her body melts into mine, before we pull back, racing to get out of our clothes as the rain picks up to the point of pouring down over us.
She spins around and grabs a vine and instinctively I slap her ass with an open palm.
She grunts, yet pushes her ass into my palm as I knead her globe, squeezing her flesh damn near down to the bone.
“Spank me again,” she says, and she doesn’t have to wait long until my hand rises up and comes right back down.
Something in me clicks, and I grab one of our multi-generational vines, breaking it off and then flogging her lightly across the ass with it, eliciting moans.
“More.”
I run it up her back and across her shoulders gently before I pick up the pace on her ass, each time getting a bigger and bigger moan to the point I have to toss it to the side or I’m going to come right now, way too early.
I slide in behind her, mud forming underneath us, the front of my wet body slams into hers.
“I want to claim all of you.”
“Do it,” she demands.
I place one finger on her butthole, circling it before pressing on the tighter than tight little entrance. How I’m going to fit in there, and not blow my load immediately, is beyond me. But damn, I’m ready to find out.
It’s raining buckets now and nature’s lubrication is telling me what I have to do. Still, I spit on my cock, giving it the right kind of lube and then spit on the crown of my cock again before putting the tip right there.
“Breathe in, beautiful.” She does as she’s told, holding it. “Now exhale as you feel me enter you.”
I slide inside her and I swear my whole world flips upside down. My woman’s pussy was already unbelievably tight, virginal, and mine. And dammit if her asshole isn’t the same.
Mine.
I carefully work my way in and out, just a few inches, as one hand palms her ass and the other slides around and massages her clit, rubs up and down her folds and finally two fingers slide inside her.
I’m inside her in all ways and she’s inside my head, and every other part of me, forever.
“I’m gonna come,” she moans.
“Not until I says so,” feeling my own climax nearing.
“I…I…I can’t…”
“Not yet.”
But it’s no use. “Uh, uh…uh…” Her head spins around and she stares at me, her mouth open as her entire body convulses like she’s possessed.
And that’s exactly what she is, by me.
Her pussy latches onto my two fingers, milking them like together they’re my cock, while her backside does the same to my rod, sending me over the edge.
My hips buck and I unload, my knees going so damn weak they become numb.
She leans back into me, her knees also wobbly and we fall sideways into the now pit of mud between rows of grapes.
My dick inside her still, we both bust out laughing.
I run my fingertip in the mud and tap it on her nose.
“Hey!” she says, grabbing a handful and smearing it onto my chest.
Immediately it’s an all-out mud fight, and for the first time in forever I completely let go. No need to keep control of any part of myself. I just let loose like a kid and I feel free of this life for the first time in forever…here, at home in Italy, with my woman.
I sure hope she doesn’t think this is only the two and a half week arrangement we have. This is forever.
CHAPTER 24
Sloane
Over the next week Stefano and I are inseparable. He tells me all about his heritage and we spend hours upon hours talking about books and our favorite authors. He’s surprisingly well read, although nothing about him surprises me anymore. He’s read Italian authors such as Umberto Eco
, Dante, Niccolò Machiavelli and of course Mario Puzo. He even told me Puzo wrote the screenplay for the original Superman movie. I never would have guessed.
Dad's Italian Mafia Friend (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 109) Page 8