by SJ Molloy
I love that man with every fucking heartbeat, but he gave my parents some grief and worry over the years. Very mischievous, and he wonders where that boy of his, A-Jay, gets his spirit from.
Armando has always been a rule breaker and so different from the rest of us. When he dated Sarah, she managed to settle him and keep him out of trouble … Sarah being simple living, plain, and down to earth, was the polar opposite of Armando, but they work.
My mamma idolises Sarah because she keeps Armando in line. She treats and accepts both Sarah and Kate like her own daughters. She only ever wants to see us boys happy and in love. It seems to be her mission in life.
Fuck … I bet I am a big disappointment.
It is mind baffling how four children from the same family are so different. Orianna, the youngest of our family, she is a fucking heart roaster. A complete fucking heart attack on a plate. I really do not know how my papa allowed her to do half the things she did and slept at night.
Maybe that is just it … he does not know what she gets up to. She is similar to Armando in nature, spirited, yet the two of them fight like cats and fucking dogs, then make up two seconds later.
Orianna … she is my closest. I love all my siblings dearly, but she is my weakness. I am not sure if it comes from my papa’s influence about treating women right and drilling into us to love one another and look out for her.
I love her for her waywardness, skittishness, and diva-ness, but most importantly I respect her the most and we have the tightest bond between all four of us. She just does not realise it yet because she is still immature, but my little sister will be the death of me, and fuck, does she push my buttons at times.
I think Savio is overly protective of her, Armando is too passive … like a friend, casual and relaxed, but I … I just get her and I will do anything for her. Even if that means sticking up for her when she is acting like an almighty childish bitch.
She is my sister … I love her. I will never let anyone harm her. At times, yeah, she needs a good kick up the ass. I can say that, but I would set a torch to any fucker who ever dared say it about her.
Marco and Orianna have had some mighty tiffs over the years. I thought at one point Marco was interested in her and wanted to be with her when he was grieving after losing Adela. I put an almighty stop to that. No fucking way was I having my best mate and my baby sister involved. Too fucking weird. Well, it was when we were younger … That would have been a big deal to me then.
It was painfully obvious it would never work. Anna … she is a live cannon. Marco is different. He was grieving from his mamma’s death, Adela’s death, and Orianna was desperate for male attention. It would be the darkest domes of Hell, if I had let her take advantage of Marco when he was at his weakest.
Not to mention that is not what I want for my sister, a rebound fuck or relationship for that matter. If only she matured and settled down, I would be delighted. Fuck … talk about double standards. My brothers say the exact same thing about me.
“I met someone. A woman yesterday in the club, and I cannot get her out of my fucking mind. She is … fuck, I think she might be my …” I struggle to meet Marco’s eyes because he will see right through me.
“You like this woman? Not like the others?” he asks inquisitively while his left eye twitches. He has always had that. It twitches when he concentrates.
“I mean I am infatuated by her and I do not even know her.” I pick up some peanuts and throw them in my mouth.
“You think she is your breath-stealer?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.
“I know she is my breath-stealer. Fuck, I literally could not get in enough air. She fucking took it all from my lungs and left me gasping like a fucking dog,” I say, taking a slow sip of beer.
“Jesus … she is this special?” He scratches a finger below that twitching eye of his.
“Yes … more than that. She is the most precious, special woman I have ever laid eyes on. I just could not get enough of her, nor do I think I ever will get enough of her. Marco, I am telling you, I have never felt like this before. Shit, I swear I would do anything right here and now just to get her attention.” I lean forward, vying for his approval or encouragement.
“Hold on … are you telling me, the famous Italian lover … commonly known as the Italian Stallion, the genius of all things charm and romance never got this woman’s attention?” He laughs with an impish smirk.
“Fuck off. I never got the opportunity to charm her as you put it. She was treating my back. Not really the ideal opportunity to seduce the girl.” I throw him an almighty scowl.
“Lost your balls or what? What happened to Mr. I. Take. What. I. Want? Not like you, Lucca the Lover. You losing it?” he asks playfully. I am ready to jump across that that table and give him a square punch in the fucking jaw.
“Shut up. She was shy. What was I supposed to do, jump her in her clinic?” I scoff.
“Never stopped you before, Lucca my friend. Maybe she just was not attracted to you,” he adds before signalling the bartender for one more round. I consider it because it was a first and a new experience being knocked back, but then I remember the chemistry between us.
Her body hummed and glowed when she touched me, her lips quivered when I touched her face, and when I stared into her big luscious eyes, they became a big gooey pool of tempting chocolate. She liquefied before me. She felt it too. I know she did.
“She was. Trust me and take my word on it. She was attracted to me but she was reserved. Classy, subtle, elegant, a little nervous, but sweet as fucking sugar. Adorably sweet. I have never met anyone so delectable.” I tunnel my hands in my hair then scratch my neck.
“So you have it bad?”
“Real fucking bad. Christ … she is a walking, talking fucking goddess. I am not kidding you. How the fuck she does not have a boyfriend is beyond me. Not that I am complaining because it gives me a chance.” I accept my second beer from the bartender and slip him a nice tip.
“Lucca, I find it hard to believe that she did not take your bait if she was single. Because what single bella do you know that does not throw herself at you. Fuck, my point exactly … three o’clock. Two blondes, a redhead, and a sexy brunette staring right at you … right now … case closed.” I snap my head around towards the bar out of curiosity.
What the fuck! Sure enough four pretty ladies perch upon the bar, drinking an assortment of cocktails, give me the suggestive eye. All four of them? No, they must be interested in Marco as well. I fucking hope they are not on our flight.
Jesus … last year I would have died and gone to Heaven. Now … I could not give a flying fuck. Marco’s words ring in my ears, sexy brunette. A cold shiver running down my spine.
Lexi.
“Let’s just go. I do not want to miss the flight, and I fucking cannot stand the queuing,” I say, grabbing my laptop bag.
“You have not touched your beer. Are you not even going to buy the lovely ladies a pre-flight aperitif?” He stands up, sipping some of his beer.
“No. I do not care. Marco, I am serious. I am not picking up a woman in the airport, well not anymore. Let’s go, unless you want to indulge in one of them. If so, make sure you are not late for the flight.”
I feel heat singe my skin. Those eight greedy eyes pierce right through my back and a massive amount of pressure from Marco. I know exactly what he is doing. He is testing me.
It is not until we are sitting on the flight he says, “Okay, I believe you. You definitely have it bad if you were willing to knock back four stunning women back there in the airport lounge. If you are this serious about one girl, then I wish you all the luck in Europe. Finally, thank fuck for that. Maybe you will not be such a grouchy bastard if you actually manage to bang this new girl. Good luck,” he says, switching on his tablet.
“You can be such a dickhead sometimes, you know that?” I muffle, accepting a glass of water from the brunette flight attendant. Fuck … brunette, pretty but not in the same lea
gue as Lexi … nowhere even close. I just cannot stop thinking about running my hands through Lexi’s lustrous brown locks. I am fucking obsessed.
“Si, as you say. So when do you plan on swooning this woman?” he asks with a hint of sarcasm, shoving the in-flight magazine into the chair pocket.
“Yesterday,” I answer confidently, lip curling into a wicked grin while checking though some emails on my smart phone.
He does not need to answer. He knows I lost my man-card yesterday. The minute her soft pretty little hands touched my skin … I was taken. I am on a mission and I am hers. All of me.
Part one: Lussuria ~ Lucca’s Words
“Lussuria ~ Chapter Nine: Fears Resurrected”
Chapter 3
Fate, Feel, and Forever
When we arrive in Firenze airport, I smile taking in the familiar surroundings. Switching on my phone, a mass of emails and messages come through. We grab our luggage and find Paulo, one of our childhood friends who works for my parents and grandparents. He normally is the appointed driver used by both family businesses between the two villas, so Suzanne has arranged for him to pick us up.
We drop Marco off at his father’s so he can catch up with him for a few days before coming over to Villa di Tartufi to attend to some work for me. I call my mamma and papa from the car, ask how they are, how the construction work is coming along, and agree to come over to visit them tomorrow. Depends on how much work I get done.
I know it is killing them both that I am not staying there for even one night on this trip, but they are full with guests because of the Jazz festival and the construction work is overtaking the residential part of the property. It makes sense I will stay at Nonna and Nonno’s villa because I have the full residential suite at my disposal.
I would like to visit my farmhouse and land while I am here as well, but it is in a secluded spot and unless I have guests with me it can be lonely. Sometimes, I love the solidarity and privacy of just being on my own, but other times I like to be around my family. Hey, I get spoiled by Nonna and Mamma, so there is no reason why I would not stay at one of their villas.
Excitement, familiarity, and nostalgia washes through me as we drive uphill to Villa di Tartufi to see my nonna and nonno. After giving Paulo a generous tip and asking all about his family, I stroll into the villa.
This villa holds wonderful authenticity, charm, and childhood memories and makes me smile. I search the lobby, library, lounge, and kitchen but cannot seem to find anyone. I smile thinking everything is as it should be.
Lazy siesta afternoons. Quiet, peaceful, and relaxing. Lunch cooking lessons long since passed and the sun is still hot. The guests with full stomachs after lunch will unwind, enjoying the tranquillity of the magical setting.
I pass a few holiday makers in the conservatory reading books, a young honeymoon couple perhaps, and head straight to the extension around the back of the property—the residential suites. As beautiful as ever, Nonna spritely jumps out of her chair and welcomes me with open arms.
“Lucca, Lucca, la mia amorevole nipote. Si è così bella da vedere. Abbiamo perso.” Nonna tells me it is good to see me, they missed me.
“Mi sei mancato troppo. Si, sono bellissime come sempre. Mi piace questo colore.” After kissing her, I hold her face in my palms and smile. I missed her, she looks beautiful, and I love that colour on her.
Nonno joins us both and greets me with the same loving enthusiasm as my grandmother. We often begin our chats in Italian and finish off speaking in English. After pouring some cold drinks and catching up, we take a walk and sit on their balcony. It gives Nonna an opportunity to ask all about her great-grandchildren.
I fill her in on Savio’s kids first, telling her about Roberta’s leading role in her nursery performance, then reach over and show her the photographs I have of her dressed as a cute little Alice standing next to a rabbit and a mad hatter. A little tear streaks her flawless age-perfect skin.
Next, I show her pictures of Emilio with Savio at his first ever football game. Scrolling through my photos, I find Armando’s son, A-Jay, covered in mud at his little sports day at nursery and the most adorable picture of baby Antonia sleeping on her papa’s chest.
Both my grandparents are proud of all the family and love nothing more than to hear and see how everyone is doing. They love skype calls too, but those can last for hours if Mamma gets involved in them and the kids get restless.
“So, can I use the usual suite if it is free?”
“Si, Si. Of course. It is empty. Actually, you were the last person in the family to use it on your previous trip. I will have supplies sent to the kitchen in the suite if you have work to do and do not want to join us for dinner,” Nonna says considerately.
They always make me feel at home here but give me space and privacy because they know how demanding my work can be at times. I can come and go, take care of myself when using the suite.
“Thanks, Nonna. I would like to join you tonight. It has been a while since we were together at meal times. Are you busy with guests?” I ask looking towards a stack of paperwork on Nonno’s desk.
“We are quiet, which means you get more of our attention. A mother and daughter, a honeymoon couple, and two new guests arrived today. They will have their first lesson tomorrow.” Nonna sounds enthusiastic. Mirth fills her eyes, tapping the tips of her fingers together in a pyramid. I love her passion. I love her eagerness. I love her energy.
I fucking love her.
Love her like no tomorrow.
“Maurizio or Annalisa?” I ask.
“Maurizio tomorrow,” they both say, nodding with certainty. It gives me an opportunity to ask how my cousin Annalisa is. Leaving them to prepare dinner, I grab the keys to the suite, steal a bowl of cinnamon gelato out of the freezer in the main kitchen, and head upstairs to dump my things. I can bet my life on it Nonna had Maurizio prepare the gelato especially for my arrival.
I unpack, throw some fitness clothes on, and hit the gym. I am not planning on overdoing it with impact because I am worried about triggering my back pain, but I do want to do some muscular strength and endurance exercises. My back actually has never felt better.
Lexi. Beautiful Lexi. Sweet … shy … special Lexi.
I pause looking out into the sprawling green hills, wondering what she is doing in Tuscany at this exact moment. Is she in a hotel in the city or in the hills, a medieval town or by the coast? I wonder if she is strolling along the cobbled streets of Firenze or drinking wine at a vineyard. I cannot believe I am obsessing over someone I do not know and have just met. But my mind is consumed by visions and thoughts of her.
Trying to clear my mind, I throw myself into my fitness regime until I work to failure and my muscles fatigue. It feels great to expel tension, especially when I am not getting any ass and cannot fuck my energy away. Exercise is the next best thing. It gives me a release, not quite the one that makes me feel fucking marvellous and soar to the skies … but it helps.
I know enough females here in the region who I could gladly hook up with for a quick mindless fuck, but something has shifted inside me. Ever since I saw Lexi yesterday, I feel a weird sense of belonging, as if I am already taken. Even if the best ass and tits were flaunting in my face right now, it still would do nothing for me or satisfy me. I want her.
Taken. I feel as if she has already taken me because I want and need her so much. Not just in the physical sense but in every sense. Well yes … of course I do want her body, all of it. How could I not? The lust that has got a hold of me since I walked into her clinic is seizing my body and thoughts like a fucking vice.
But as much as I lust for her body, I also crave her gentleness … sweetness, and I want to know everything in that precious little mind of hers. What makes her tick? Not only would Lexi be the perfect lover for me, she would definitely be a great friend … a soul mate because she seems so pure and down to Earth.
My instincts tell me I would have it all with her … lover and soul mate,
and that is what I need. I need it all and I need to give it all.
Showered, dressed, I make my way down to the lounge. I am introduced to the honeymoon couple. I catch up with Stefano, Maria, Allegra, and then Maurizio joins us briefly when he has a handle on everything in the kitchen. He mentions he is looking forward to starting a new block tomorrow with the guests.
We hear Nonna welcome them. “Ah, there they come now,” Maurizio says, turning around.
HOLY SHIT! My body freezes, staring back at me with big eyes is Lexi. Fuck! The wind has been knocked out me yet again. Not only does she look breathtaking in a floaty pink dress, she looks scared … fear all across her face. She is alarmed. Fuck, fuck … fuck!
She drops her champagne flute. An obvious noisy smash fills the room, regardless of the Andrea Bocelli music blaring through the speakers. The entire room stares in her direction. Shit! I have never been as surprised, shocked, entranced, and amazed all at the one time.
My mind races with excitement, but when I stare into her eyes filling up with tears, my mind almost crumbles. My heart breaks and my whole body droops with deflated energy. She is not impressed and does not look happy to see me.
I pause because I am simply lost for words. I do not know what to say or do because she is upset. I silently tell her with my eyes and hope she hears me.
I am so glad you are here.
You do not know how much I have been thinking about you.
You look beautiful.
Why are you angry?
Why are you scared?
Please do not be sacred or upset.
She is not focusing. She cannot read me, and I do not think she understood because her eyes brim with tears in an emotional outburst. She slaps her hand over her mouth, apologies to Nonno, then runs away. Fuck! She is running away. Jesus Christ. What have I done to this girl that would make her run away?
Jasmine.