“Is there nothing about when or where?”
“No, there is no data. They wouldn’t put all those information in one message. Sure they have other ways.”
“Okay, thank you very much!”
She sighed under the shower; leaning her hands on the wall, she let the water slip on her, closing her eyes, trying to clear up her mind and understand. She had to wait Alessandro’s personal file. She watched the hot tub. If only she had more time…. But now Carlo had to be on his way. She had to hurry!
Chiara wore a short skirt, boots, a tank and a jacket, that revealed her bare skin of the waist. Carlo whistled: “Wow!”
He opened her door and got her into his car:
“I’ll be the most envied man in the whole restaurant!”
She smiled:
“Stop it! By the way, I’m very hungry. I hope this restaurant is as good as you told me!”
“I’m hungry too!” Hu turned, staring at her. His gaze lingered all over her body, revealing a hidden message in his words. Chiara clenched his fists, pretending not to understand the double meaning. Indeed, she touched the radio:
“Can I turn up the volume, Carlo?”
“Of course you can! We’re almost there. I reserved a booth; good for intimacy!”
She nodded, looking at the car and observing the seats. Carlo touched her leg and she gasped. Her skirt had risen up; she gritted her teeth. Luckily, Carlo was bringing the car to the park.
Chiara looked around; the local was Arab-style; the walls were full of pictures. She saw immediately the photo of Amina and other guys. Some of them were certainly Italian. She saw images of a group of girls; some of them were very young. The label under said “Amina and the girls”. She saw the portrait of two Italian girls; the one on the left had long hair with green tips; the other girl’s hair tips were blue; she tried to figure out where they took the pictures; the background of the pics resembled to the area where she had seen Ale pick up the brown case.
She smiled, greeting everyone; she watched every entrance, every window, and every customer. She followed Carlo to the booth; there were soft lightning and floor pillows. It was a very intimate and comfortable location. She sat down, smiling.
The dinner was quiet, despite of the several jokes of Carlo. She kept pretending not to understand. The dinner came to end. It was inevitable and obvious. Chiara sat back, taking a deep breath. She wasn’t surprised when Carlo leaned toward her and whispered:
“You look so beautiful, my goodness! I couldn’t help it. I just have though of your legs for the whole evening.”
Carlo touched her face, then his hand slid down on her cleavage. Chiara breathed, closing her eyes, as he moved away her shirt. She finished drinking the glass of cola, swallowing the last sip. He attracted her against him, whispering:
“You’re beautiful.”
Carlo’s lips came down on hers, before she could reply. She felt his desire – it was powerful – pressed against her belly. She asked for it, flirting with him to get information, provoking him, accepting his invitation to drink. She let his hand touched her back, closing eyes, analysing sensation, trying to isolate herself. She had to get his confidence. She had to understand and how to know. She felt her body shivered, but they were different from those she felt with Alessandro. She felt like transported into another dimension, as he went down with his lips on her throat. When she kissed him, she felt the cold air on her bare skin. He pulled out the shirt, raising his face and staring at her:
“Chiara… are you in?”
She stared at him, stroking his face with a gentle touch, lingering on his lips. Her heart was still too calm; nevertheless, she nodded.
“Yes… Carlo, yes.” They lied together on the carpet. His hands slipped under her skirt, lowering the hinge. She touched his chest and kissed him. Suddenly, she felt cold and shivering. Her teeth banged against each other. She pushed away him, gently.
“Wait, Carlo… I… can’t.” She saw a gleam in his eyes. His manhood was throbbing and pressing against the cloth of his boxer. She had not realized that he had pulled out his pants. She sat up on the carpet, leaning against the fluffy pillows, putting a hand to her throat to calm the trembling.
“Chiara, what is happening? I thought…”
“Sorry, I thought too, but I can’t. Not here, come on. We are in a restaurant. We have a uniform!”
Carlo stared puzzled at her:
“No, we don’t wear the uniform. This place is intimate. Nobody will enter!”
“I don’t dare to go further, Carlo. I’ll go back home over the conference. I don’t feel ready to go over with you. I’d rather know you better.” She stared at him, waiting for his comment. He sighed and smiled.
“Okay, as you wish. I need a moment to calm down.”
She smiled and nodded:
“No problem. I feel a worm, Carlo. But, really, I can’t…” She approached him, thinking how she had not problems to go over – and not just once – with Alessandro, while with Carlo she had stopped.
“Carlo, do you want to tell me about your work, or your family? I really need to move my mind to other things. This whole situation is grotesque!”
Carlo nodded, hugging her tenderly.
“What do you want to know, Chiara?”
“What do you know about those terrorist threats? What does Amina think about this story? Maybe, if she attends people of her country, she could have heard something.”
Carlo clouded:
“Yes, I did. She’s not used to the Islamic community. However, there has been a climate of suspicion and waiting at the HQ for months, since this meeting was announced. We know what happens to the various G8 and so on. You’ll know even more than me!”
She breathed, still feeling her burn skin. She couldn’t understand why.
Chapter 23
“Ferrari! Your colleague is snooping at Jamby’s Restaurant. I would go and see if I were you!”
Alessandro swore; he jumped up, hanging up the phone. Damn. She was so nosy. And by the way, who was with her?
He parked his car in front of the restaurant, running down. He stood in the hallway: they were leaving the booth.
Alessandro stared at her; she was joking with Carlo. Carlo’s hands were on her shoulders, moving on her neck, on her throat. She tossed her head, laughing. He stood in the doorway; he was deciding if to go back, but he heard his name. She was looking at him. He stepped forward, stopping in front of them.
“I didn’t want to disturb!” He clenched his jaw, while she arched an eyebrow:
“Ferrari, don’t worry. We’re talking about the meeting!”
Alessandro clenched his jaw, looking Carlo:
“We need to talk. Detective, please, forgive us.”
Carlo blinked, puzzled:
“Ok, let’s go!”
Alessandro walked toward the garden:
“What the hell is there between Pilati and you?”
Carlo stared amazed at him:
“Ale, she is a beautiful woman. I like her. What’s the matter?”
“She is a detective of counterterrorism. She is here to work. If you distract her and she does a mess, we all get in trouble!”
Carlo looked puzzled at him. Alessandro exaggerated:
“What would Amina say?”
“Amina and I got separated. Anything she could say it’s not my business. What’s the matter? Are you jealous?”
Alessandro shook his head:
“No, I’m not. Torres is breathing down my neck. If she signals your misconduct…” He let his voice trail off. Carlo shook his head:
“Ale, you know. I’m a butterfly. But I like her so much!”
Alessandro clenched his jaw.
“I’ll give you some friendly advice. Leave her alone. Think of Amina.”
He inhaled, and then turned his gaze to her. Carlo shook his head, and he turned to her too. Alessandro gave him the latest admonishment to him:
“I need you at the HQ. Now!”<
br />
He stared at him:
“Now? Are you serious?”
“Yes, Carlo, I’m serious. Your last are full of holes. Torres wants them tomorrow.” Carlo sighed. It wasn’t the first time that he had to go back to the HQ to do his reports again. But it was the first time that he had to leave in the middle of a date, after a double pullback.
He stopped, staring at him:
“Excuse me, but… how did you find me?”
“I went to your house. You weren’t in, so I thought you came and visit Amina!” The lie came out easy.
Carlo moved away. Alessandro walked purposefully toward the booth, where Chiara had returned, intent on walking nervous.
“What’s up? What did you told to Carlo? He ran away like hell!”
“Nothing… Come with me!” He tried to touch her, ma she struggled:
“Where?”
“Just come! Carlo is gone. You came with him, I suppose. I’ll take you back.”
She shook her head:
“I’m not leaving. I’m here, and here I’ll stay. I’m not going with you! What kind of acting is this?”
“Carlo isn’t coming back. So you don’t have solutions. You can’t call a taxi at this time.”
He pushed her to the back of the restaurant, looking for a quiet area.
He watched her short skirt; her bare legs, her boots. Good grief: his heart was going a mile a minute. They reached the staff area.
“What have you come to do?”
“Dining, Alessandro!”
“As if, Chiara. What did you want to know from Carlo?”
“It’s not your business!”
“Do you think he is corrupt too? We’re all a bunch of corrupt, aren’t we?”
“Alessandro, stop!” He was furious. His eyes were like fire, his breath was heavy.
“I do my job, Alessandro!”
“What have you asked to Carlo? Did you make sex to him? Is that your job? Is that your way to get information?”
She slapped him. He stared at her, putting a hand oh his face, where she had hit him.
“I didn’t!”
“How can I trust you?” He stepped back. She stared into his eyes:
“You’re supposed to. I don’t care. And I’ll tell you more: if you don’t believe me, that’s your problem, not mine.”
“What did Carlo say?”
“This isn’t your business too, Ale!” She moved away; her heart was pounding. His scent tickled her nostrils, intoxicating and dazing. She felt his hand on her arm – she was on fire. She had to get away from him. The air was dense. Her heart was beating furiously in her chest. He shifted aside, allowing her to pass. Chiara stopped and turned back.
“I made no sex to Carlo!” She raised her hand, resting it on his chest. She came up to him, brushing his lips:
“You’re just jealous!”
He stared at her; his mouth was half open. She was so close, her hand on his chest…: he grabbed both her arms, and he slammed her back against the wall. He put her hands above her head and crossed her wrists, nailing them to the wall with just a hand:
“You should challenge me not, Chiara!”
“We both know I won’t stop”.
He kissed her violently; her lips opened and he put his tongue in her mouth. She kissed him back furiously, biting his lips every time she could.
Alessandro pressed his body against hers; he opened his belt and pulled down his jeans. Then he took of her tank and started kissing and licking her breasts. He bit her nipples and she pulled his hair; he licked her gently, then, and he touched her under her waist; the bare skin of her belly reacted when he drew circles on it with the tip of his tongue. Her chest rose and fell continuously. He stroked his boner against her. His hand slithered under her skirt and brushed gently her thighs. She opened her legs. He touched her cunt and she winced.
He kissed her throat and her mouth; his finger was still inside her and rubbed, went slowly in and out. She shook violently, close to losing her control; he let her go and moved her skirt away. It fell to the ground. She was against the wall, her arms raised. She wore just boots and a tank. She was beautiful.
Her closed his eyes, trying not to think of feel anything. She moved her pelvis out and he sighed.
Chiara struggled out; she couldn’t move even if she wanted to touch him. His fingers took her so close to an orgasm that she wanted more. How did he make her wanting it so badly if she had no problem to stop when she was with Carlo?
She moved her hips and closed her eyes. He pressed against her and hissed:
“Look at me!”
His voice sounded harsh. Chiara opened wide her eyes and stared at him; his gaze was dark like the stormy sea. He penetrated her violently and let her hands free. She grabbed his shoulders and stabbed them with her nails. She bit him and he whispered:
“You awesome little snake!” He smiled and sank into her again and again, looking into her eyes.
They forgot everything but themselves; there was no mole, no internal affair, nothing else but her and him weaving together.
They came screaming; then, he leaned his forehead to hers, looking sweetly for her mouth. And Chiara thought there was just a possible definition for the kiss he was giving her: it was sweet and pure. A window on his soul she grasped for, praying for a moment she wasn’t totally wrong about him.
He slid out of her and lay still. She touched her head: her hair was totally a mess, her lips were turgid. She fixed her clothes and wore the skirt he had let to the ground. Then she lifted her chin.
Alessandro got close to her and leaned a hand out toward her face. He couldn’t and wouldn’t say anything else. His thumb slid on her lips and she licked it. He drew his hand back, quite shocked:
“I’m ready to play with you, as you play with me. Do you know that, ale?”
He took a step back:
“Let’s go!”
He opened the door. He crashed with a guy, who was coming: he looked at them surprised. Before he could say something, they had slipped down the hallway, toward the exit door. Chiara realized that she had to get in the car with him. She walked, stopping in front of the car.
He stared at her:
“Do you want to come or not?”
“Good heavens, Ale, you’re so hateful!”
“I’m not hateful! I’m in a rush! I want to go home and sleep!”
“Or do you want to home to call? To tell someone? How did you know where we were?”
He stared at her: she was too curious and aware. She went into the car. He noticed her skirt up on the legs, those legs that he had touching earlier; those contained the precious gift that he had perhaps caught too many times, much more than those who had planned and intended.
He turned his attention back to the road, while she remained silent. The air was filled with tension.
“Alessandro? May you please answer me?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. He kept his eyes on the road.
She was impatiently:
“What do you mean with that?”
“I’m not required to answer to your questions. You’re a guest. You’re a teacher, a colleague, but you’re not, in any way, authorized to question me. Do you want to report me?”
Her hand rested on his leg. He stiffened his muscles and clenched his jaw.
“Ale, give me a reason. I’m not going to report you. If you’re undercover, give me the number of your contact person. Let me check.”
He kept his eyes impenetrable:
“Would you trust me? If I give you a name and a number, would you trust me? Seriously? I don’t think so. Chiara, I’m not corrupt. This is the only thing I can tell you, besides the fact that I’m a working for counterterrorism. You probably asked for confirm.”
He just turned his eyes toward her. He thought: “My time is less and less, damn it!”
“No, probably I’m not. It would be a start, at least. I need something to tell my supervisors.”
“Tell the
truth. I’m not corrupt. Jamal is an informer!”
She shook her head:
“Give me a name! Give me the name of your contact person!”
“Bucci. Rosario Bucci!” He clenched his hands on the wheel. His eyes were fixed on the road: “We’re almost there.”
She leaned toward him. He inhaled sharply; she leaned to raise the temperature.
“Are you cold?”
“A little.” Alessandro raised his eyes on the rear-view, checking the road. He grabbed a jacket lying abandoned on the seat back of the car.
“Here! Mestre is cold at night and often foggy!”
She grabbed his coat, thanking him with a nod. She wrapped his coat on her body. The jacket was soaked with his scent. In the teeth of all logic, she felt her heart accelerate. She closed her eyes and imagined his hands, his lips. Good heavens, what was happening to her? She sighed with relief, when he parked the car under her hotel:
“Here we are!”
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Chiara?”
She stood – one of her foot was already out of the car – just turning to him:
“I know you have should but…”
“I’ll send a report tomorrow. I’ll write that Jamal seems to be an informant. In a few days, there’ll be the meeting. I need something more! I’ll call this Bucci and ask him about you!”
She slammed the door with an angrily snap. Suddenly, she regretted that she was unbalance. She turned to him: he was stood still in the car:
“The same applies to me, Ale. Nobody must know who I really am!”
He nodded slowly. He stood still until she was in. He didn’t see the lights in her room. He couldn’t understand if it was all right. A few minutes later, the lights were on. He breathed a sigh of relief. He stayed in the car for half an hour and verified that everything was in order. He started slowly the car and went to the HQ. It was just before the start of his shift.
Chapter 24
Carlo was in the office, his head bent over the paper he was compiling, when Alessandro entered:
UNDER THE CLOAK Page 10