by Lena Little
“Clear,” someone calls out and the black bag is pulled from my head. “Ma’am, an ambulance will be here in just a few minutes.”
“I’m fine. Where’s…?”
I look down at the floor and see Don Neto in a puddle of his own blood and Jake the same, about five feet away.
Lying on his back on the couch is Julian, trying to catch his breath.
“We don’t need an ambulance. Just let us go.”
“I’m afraid that can’t happen, Julian, and you know it. We’re going to need you to testify,” the uniformed officer says.
“I testify that I love this woman and that…”
And then he passes out.
11
Giulia
One month later
I roll over in bed and try and pry one of my eyes open.
“What time is it?” I ask aloud, quickly realizing Julian’s side of the bed is empty.
I reach for my phone and the first thing I notice is that it’s been moved slightly. He’s been looking through my social media again.
A smile takes over my face. A month ago I would have said you have to take the bad with the good, but now I realize it’s all good. Julian is as jealous as they come, and he snoops as well. But I don’t mind. I’m not trying to do anything behind his back and his snooping isn’t about catching me…that’s what took me a while to learn. He’s truly looking out for me, protecting me. I actually like that he doesn’t ask me for permission or trouble me with all the crazy thoughts that are just going on in his head. I just let him do his thing and thank my lucky stars I have a man whose whole world revolves around me and keeping me safe.
Which probably explains the sounds of construction coming from outside.
After a quick shower, I throw on a top and shorts and head out back. It’s been an interesting transition, living here in Bologna, Italy. Probably the strangest thing was finding out spaghetti bolognese isn’t really served in Bologna. It’s a thing only foreigners eat, which is kind of an inside joke. At least I’m learning a little more about the country day by day.
And I learned a lot more about Julian’s character when we left the U.S. He took a bullet to the shoulder, again from Jake, just before the Department of Homeland Security put bullets into both Don Neto and Jake for their role in trafficking women. Apparently, they were back at it again, unbeknownst to Julian. Julian said he’d never snitch on someone else, preferring to handle things himself, but when women were involved, and at-risk, he told them everything he knew from three years ago, and the information was enough to save almost one hundred women from three different continents.
As a nice little benefit, there were multiple rewards that Julian got for his role in unraveling the whole ball of yarn. He melted my heart when he donated a large majority of the money back to the women and the families affected, but he also made sure to set a small part aside for us, reminding me that family always comes first.
I couldn’t agree more.
The icing on the cake in this whole matter was that the plate in Julian’s arm from when Jake shot him a few years ago, actually impeded the most recent bullet. The doctors opened him up and were able to remove the plate, and the new bullet, and Julian is on the mend, looking at a full recovery. In the meantime, Jake won’t be working on his aim ever again, nor will his father.
As I reach the back yard I’m shocked to find men in polo shirts with Ducati logos bringing in a whole assortment of tools.
“What’s this?”
“Since you’re not able to continue your education to become a mechanic at college back home, I figured I could homeschool you, here in our new home.”
I run and jump in his arms, looking at all the tools and manuals that the guys from Ducati have brought over. Julian gives one of them a nod and he pats Julian on the back before they disappear into a Ducati van and pull away from our house.
“You built me my own workstation?”
“It’s not done yet, but yes. You’ll be able to pursue your dream as a mechanic here.”
“In the back yard with fresh air and the best instructor in the world.”
“About that.” He swallows hard and then places my feet on the ground and takes my hand before leading me inside the garage area he’s constructing. “I’ll be your day-to-day instructor, but there will also be some instructors from Ducati coming by when you have questions that I might not be familiar with.”
“Female instructors?”
“The best instructors, no matter if they’re men or women.”
I gasp. “You’re going to let other men in the house to work with me?”
“I’m committed to doing whatever it takes to make all your dreams come true. But yes…I’ll be having a talk with anyone who enters our house, so they understand the very severe repercussions they face if they do anything other than make you happy, or if their hands come off their tools and start to wander. That’s a good plan, actually,” he ponders. “I could put wrist monitoring bracelets on them while they’re here.”
“Julian!” I protest, slapping him on the arm, but he’s clearly serious. I pause, taking in the moment before getting serious. “You know, I don’t mind your jealousy. I really don’t. I know you’re a very task-oriented analytical guy so I have something to run by you.”
“You can’t change my mind about anything or convince me to stop being jealous. It’s how I am with you, and how I’ll be with our children.”
“I know, but just hear me out. You call your motorcycle ‘she’. Do I get jealous? No, because I know it’s an object and I’m a person, and you love me more than you enjoy your bike. Heck, I like bikes too, but I love you.”
“I’ve actually been thinking about this.”
“You have?”
“Yes. A lot. It doesn’t make so much sense for me to be jealous of other men. Sure, some were born with more cash in their bank accounts, achieved higher levels of education, have connections in all forms of business and the government, and so on. But what do all those men have in common?”
“I-I don’t know.” I shrug.
“None of them have you, and that’s why they should all be jealous of me. And you’re why I’m the luckiest man on the face of the earth.”
“That might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said.” I feel emotions overtake me and my eyes begin to water.
“I hope you’re ready for me to one-up it because I’ve got something even better to say…to ask you. Something I had with me when I brought back that darn sandwich but then we got sidetracked for a month. Well, I’m all healed up and we’re where we were meant to be, where we are supposed to start our family. And I’m not waiting anymore.” He pauses. “Because now I’m going to make everyone else in this great big world really jealous.”
“How so?”
He drops to a knee and pulls out what looks like a super tiny miniature toolbox from his pocket, but when he flips the top open there are no tools inside…only a ring.
“Oh. My. God.”
“A princess cut, for my princess.” He lines it up with my shaking finger. “Baby Girl, I want to fill you with all my babies, boys, and girls, here in our new home, Italy, for the rest of our lives and into eternity. I want to work on motorcycles with you by my side. I want to learn how to make pasta for our family. I want to discover yachting so I can take our family to Capri. I want to at least understand the basics of fashion, so we can go to Milan and I can dress you in anything you want. And one day, when we’re old and grey, and we’ve left this home to start another because we’ve outgrown it with our great big family, we’ll sit under the Tuscan sun, sipping wine and espressos as we watch our grandkids running through the fields of the estate that we built together. And we’re not just going to build it with stone and wood and glass, but with the most important things…the sounds of children’s laughter, the sound of their little feet as they run all over the house and out into the fields, tracking dirt into the house, but we will never get mad at them because i
t’s the feet of our offspring, born of our blood, and just like the grapes we will tend to our blood, will be a part of our new home, our new country…because this life, this everything, will be ours. And just like the grapes we plant, they all start from one seed…the maternal seed that springs life and expands, giving us the joy of life…which I only found, when I found you.” He places his other hand on my stomach, almost willing a baby, or twins, or even triplets like he said a month ago, to start growing there. “Will you marry me so we can start living out this dream…together?”
“Yes,” I say softly, wiping away the tears as he slides the ring on my finger…a perfect fit.
He scoops me up and carries me into the garage that’s a work-in-progress, carrying me over the threshold. “Can you put me down gently?”
“Absolutely, but why did you specifically say the word gently.”
I motion to the floor and he slowly lowers my feet and I take a step back, needing to see his expression. “Because I’ve got something to say too…I’m pregnant.”
“Are you serious?”
“With triplets.”
“I knew it! I fucking knew it. And now this. I love you more than anything in this whole wide world,” he says, rushing at me to grab me and hoist me up but stopping just short and then looking at me and smiling. “Gently…that’s going to take some getting used to.”
“We’ve got all our lives because this is just the start.”
“It sure is, Princess,” he says, wrapping me up in a gentle hug. I melt into his chest, knowing I’ve found my home, my Daddy, my everything…because my jealous man does everything he can to make other women jealous of me…without even knowing he’s doing it.
It’s not a competition but I can confidently say I have the best man in the world…for me. And it’s his jealous streak that I’ve come to love because it shows me just how passionate he is, and how much he cares.
“I love you, Little Girl.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
Epilogue
Julian
Five years later
“There she is. There’s mommy,” I point as Julius, Jovani, and Justo’s eyes follow my finger toward the race team garage pits at the MotoGP race here in Mugello, Italy.
The boys wave to their mother who waves right back.
I press the earpiece to my ear and listen in to my live feed coming from Giula’s team. “Great race out there today guys. Giulia, your adjustment on the chassis mid-race made all the difference.” My eyes dart to the driver who does a wheelie as he closes out his victory lap.
“Dad, can we have gelato?” the boys ask, almost in unison. I nod to Isabella, our nanny and she quickly scoops our boys up and off my lap and escorts them toward the concession stands. I waste no time jumping the railing, moving right past the race security official and heading down onto the track.
Champagne corks pop as Giulia’s Lamborghini team celebrate another win. One of the other mechanics offers me a bottle, but I wave him off. I maneuver past all the men, who serve to remind me that she’s the only female on the team, and I’m very aware of it every second of every day.
Beelining it right to my wife she stretches out her arms in a hug and I waste no time wrapping her up.
“Your change made all the difference. You showed the world yet again that you’re the best,” I commend.
“But you know what I’ll never show them?” she adds, taking a step back and grabbing me by the hand, pulling me into a corner of the garage that no one can see. She knows my jealousy is on overdrive right now. All these guys want to drink, party and chase women after a big victory…and my woman is the closest to them all right now. Granted, I’ve taken them all aside, all of them, and had a little talk with each of them, a tire iron firmly pressed against their windpipes, letting them know I’m not fucking around when it comes to Giulia. She’s my queen and any other man in this world can at best be her jester, or more likely a peasant. No one challenges the king, or they’ll find their head cut off real damn quick.
And so far no one has ever done anything to test me, but I’m still not taking any chances.
“What will you never show them?” I ask.
“That I was getting all hot and sweaty for you all through the race…Daddy.”
She unzips her fire-retardant suit to reveal nothing underneath. “What the… You were naked the entire race?”
She nods frantically. “I knew we’d win and I didn’t want to waste any time celebrating after.”
“I want these people to all leave so it can be just the two of us. I don’t want any other man looking at you, seeing you like this. Ever.”
“I’ve got a better idea. Instead of trying to hide from them why don’t you show them who I belong to.”
“And make them jealous instead of me?” I smirk.
“Fight fire with fire, right?”
“And you know these flames burn white hot when it comes to you.”
I grab her and pin her against an oversized toolbox, the drawers shaking.
“Those grease monkeys want to fuck my princess.”
“They do Teddy Bear. Show them who the king is. Show them who Princess belongs to.”
I spin her around and yank down my pants.
“Mine,” I growl, lining the tip of my cock up with her entrance as I slap her ass hard for making Daddy even more jealous. My possessiveness shoots through my veins like a drug, hitting my bloodstream and filing me with rage, anger, and the desire to fuck my woman into next week. And the best part? She knows it, which is why she likes to get me all fired up. She knows my adrenaline filled turbo fucks are going to just be that much more savage and intense.
“Who do you belong to, Baby Girl?” I ask, grabbing her chin from behind and lifting her head up. “Answer me.” My voice is a guttural groan that resonates through my entire body and sends goosebumps up and down my woman’s back.
“I think I need more convincing,” she torments.
“Bad Girl!” I scold, slapping her ass hard.
She yelps and quickly quips with, “Thank you, sir. Can I have another?”
I’m happy to oblige and do so immediately, making sure my palm doesn’t land in the exact same place as before. I want her globes red and with a little sting to remind her who her Daddy is. I’m not out to hurt her or damage my precious doll.
“I barely felt that last one,” she challenges.
“Is that right?” I grab her throat, careful to avoid her carotid artery, and give her a light squeeze and she responds by moaning into my palm.
“Spread your legs wider, Little Girl,” I bite out, massaging her throat. “You’ve made Daddy jealous and now I’m going to see to it that you come right here in the garage, yelling out my name so everyone knows exactly who you belong to.”
“Everything okay back there?” a voice calls out and I snap my head back and growl like a full-grown feral animal that’s just been caged. “Get the fuck outta here. Leave us alone.”
“Sorry,” the pit crew member says and quickly makes himself disappear.
I grab her waist with one hand and keep my other around her neck. “I know how wet that makes you, Sugar. I can feel your sweetness coating my cock. That horny little pussy of yours is so ripe and ready. It knows it’s the property of one man and one man only. Me. Now…are you ready for me to pound you harder than any tool in this entire damn garage?”
“Yes, Daddy. Pound me with your thick cock. Fuck me hard and make me scream to show all these boys who the real man is.”
In one move my hips thrust forward and I enter her dripping hole with my throbbing flesh. My body slams into her hard to the point she puts both hands out against the toolbox, trying to find some sort of balance, something to support the force that is barreling into her from behind. But in an attempt to stop herself from leaving her feet, she grabs ahold of the steel and I thrust in the same moment, and it falls to the side with a loud thud.
“Oh fuck!” I moan. “I’m gonna come.”
“Come, Daddy.”
“Come, Baby Girl.”
Just as I erupt I feel her pussy clamp down around me like a vice grip, my balls unloading inside her as her sweet cunt comes all over my cock.
“Julian! Daddy!” she cries and we’re immediately greeted with cheers and whistling.
I cock my head back to see her team is accepting the first place trophy, and the fans are clapping for the rider, not us. When I look back I see she’s seeing exactly what I’m seeing, and we both laugh as I lean forward and rest my body on her torso.
“You’re going to break me in half,” she teases.
“That’s the idea. One of these days.”
“Because then there would be two of me to please. All. The. Time.”
“I’ll pass on that.”
“Really?” she says in complete surprise, straightening back up. I pull my cock out of her, the fucker so sensitive I can barely get it back in my pants, as she zips up her garage suit.
“Yep. I’m a one woman kinda guy, and when you’ve found the best one in the world, that’s more than you’ll ever need.”
“Awww.” She comes in for a hug and I pull her in even tighter.
“What did the kids think of the race?” she asks.
“Same thing I did. Their mom is incredible, best ever, amazing.”
Her head comes off my chest. “But still not quite as good as gelato?”
“How’d you know that’s where they went?”
“Because they’re kids. After five years I’ve pretty much got them figured out.”
“Know what I’ll never figure out?”
“What’s that?”
“How I was so lucky to find you and also why we don’t have even more kids yet.”
“My career, Julian.”
“Our career, because everything in our house begins and ends with—“
“Mommy!” the boys yell, Isabella, trying to keep up with them, bringing up the rear.
“Hey guys!” my wife shouts, dropping to her knees so our little men can all give her a hug. And as soon as they do the big man, me, puts my arms around the whole lot. That’s what I do, watch over my flock…because they’re mine. Always.