by Frank, S. W.
Selange tried to wiggle loose and met hard resistance. He clutched her waist so tight she thought he’d lost his mind, for real, not to mention her ass in the skimpy lace panties was on full display. Selange stopped moving. The side of her cheek pancaked his chest and the erratic beating which echoed from his ribcage, caused her worry. He was hurting, he had to be. Everything he was doing was to numb the pain and this made her sad. She closed her eyes tight, trying to think of a way to reach him. “Alfonzo, honey, I got you. It’s okay.” She whispered.
His hands cupped her face, brought it up a fraction and searched for something in it. He massaged her cheekbones with his thumbs in a circular motion. “Babe, I need you so damn bad, my demons are back.”
She cried in her soul at this confession. They both required a soul-renovation. They were in hell without each other and tonight she was stronger and would pull him out. She nodded sadly. “I’m here, honey. Let’s fight them off together. You and me, like old times, remember?”
His mouth formed a familiar sideways grin, “Yeah.” Then he brought her face down and his mouth sealed hers and the kiss was of liquor and wine. She tried not to think of his guests, instead she focused on him. Her initial thoughts were to back-out, run for the door, loving him wasn’t a spectator sport, yet she was shut-in hell with him and those watching from the outskirts were shadows of their sins. Weakness, carnal cravings, mistrust, disloyalty are what brought them into Satan’s hole and the fuel of wine gave it a firmer hold. Alfonzo had constructed walls around his pain, aside from the loss of his marriage; he’d lost a good friend. He and Vincent were tight, geez, they were like brothers, always cracking on each other and…
The emotional toll became too great. She closed it out. Closed out everything and decided she’d endure the flames if it brought him comfort. His hands were hot coals, scorching through her clothes and the kiss so damn hard it overpowered her, leaving her breathless. The pace at which he moved gave her no room to squirm loose. He held her steadfast, slipping his tongue deep into her mouth and she was forced to suck it dry of the bitter champagne until she too became dizzy with intoxication or died from suffocation. He flexed forward, hiking her dress up over her head, breaking the kiss to do it then tossed it in the air. The garment flapped like a flag blowing in the wind and in a swirl of fuchsia it floated to the floor. He was relentless in his quest to strip her bare and with the hands of an expert unclasped her bra. It remained cushioned between the swell of soft breasts and a hard chest. The barrier’s came down, they were being stripped away, layer by layer and at some point she felt another pair of hands yanking free her lace panties. The hands could only be the spectator’s, wanting to join the intimate game. But, Selange had no predisposition for women; she preferred the hard, firm anatomy of a man. Her legs closed discouraging any feminine exploration and she slid up on Alfonzo’s body. He saw her eyes, smiled at her displeasure and she frowned at his wicked teasing. He dared her to chicken out and she considered it. She was strictly a dick-chick and by no means would he or anyone else convince her otherwise.
“Scratch me.” He said.
“What?”
“Scratch me,” he repeated lifting her wrist and she flopped back down to him. He took her fingers and raked them across his chest leaving a red angry mark. Tiny pin-pricks of blood peeped out from his skin and the crazy sonovabitch chuckled. It’s as if he sobered from the infliction of pain. “Shit, I thought I was fucking dreaming.”
“You’re crazy…I’m leaving, enjoy your party. I don’t do orgies.”
He rubbed her throat and kissed it, grunting like a hungry animal in heat, she was rolled beneath him, pinned by his mouth, forcing her head to recline as he kissed away her protest. The heat generated by his body covered her and the muscled torso and limbs were a shield from any female exploration. He had answered and shut-out the women. His body language making it clear this was an exclusive one-on-one contact sport. They were welcome to sit on the sidelines and watch or go play elsewhere.
His mouth was a seal, preventing conversation. He spoke through the intensity of his kiss and removed his boxers without breaking the seal. His warm hands gripped her under the knees to drag her down and she stared at him with innocent girl eyes wanting him, yet afraid he’d take what he wanted then discard her in the dawn. She wanted to cry, because she loved him and didn’t know what else to do but give in.
Alfonzo had her legs, putting them around his waist, wasting little time in claiming what he needed. Selange would not understand, it was hard for him to articulate the overwhelming craving for her. The longing overtook him and he was helpless to control its force. When he pushed inside of her, his intent was to pillage and satiate his need. The all-consuming invasion caused her vaginal walls to spasm and her cervix elongated to accept him and she came in such a fluid rush she surprised herself. She didn’t realize how ravenous her longing for Alfonzo truly was until this hour. He knead and squeezed her buttocks as the circular strokes occurring below caused her to whimper from carnal joy.
In the rotating flames of a fiery heat, he spread her legs then flexed them to her chest, rolling and pumping into her depths as his weight sent her knees colliding with her breasts. He had her in his clutches, and the escape route had closed. He completely occupied every inch of her, leaving her but one choice, to grip him using her vaginal muscles until he slipped away then came back with explosive surges that made her vibrate. The consummation left no doubt he planned to possess every part of her and leave her no air to breathe.
Alfonzo maneuvered her body into a half-twist, and had one of her legs high on his side, the other flat on the seating. He put his leg to the floor to use as a brace and this time glided in and out with rigid control, protracting with deliberate intent, letting air fan the creamy fluids coating his shaft and the position brought an intense stimulation of every nerve ending in her body, sending her arms out blindly to hold onto something, anything to bring her back down to earth.
Goddamn Kelly, I really can’t feel my legs…no shit, her mind screamed in response to the sexy song playing in the background.
This was the first time in months Alfonzo wasn’t concerned with protection and he became intentionally selfish. Making love to Selange gave him an adrenalin rush. The high he got greater than any drug or drink. Tonight he deliberately held her accountable for breaking her vows and reneging on a marital pact to have lots of kids. Tonight she’d pay up; he meant to ensure it with every stroke and semen pouring from his body. Nico would never have his woman –as long as he lived!
Alfonzo was intent on recouping everything she’d taken by reclaiming it with sexual stealth. She gripped the edge of the chaise when he turned her over and she moaned with every delicious stroke when he re-entered from the backdoor. Alfonzo covered her spine and she felt the heat of his liquored breath fanning it and moaned when the tip of his shaft touched her G-spot causing her to liquefy.
He withdrew from her moist cavern, turning her around to him and showed the women the power of a man’s kiss. Selange’s head tilt back from the force and he cupped the back of her scalp with one strong hand in demonstration. He dominated her with ease. They were knee to knee facing each other and he bent low to suckle each milky breast, squeezing with the folds of his mouth around her nipple for sustenance and delighting in the way she pushed further to him without request. He stimulated the vaginal folds of her skin, caressing between her thighs with his hand, causing a pleasurable friction that propelled her closer like a moth to a flame. With this unspoken demand he countered and reclined on his back bringing her down over him. “Beso mi.”
She extended her arms on the side of his head and did ad he asked. She kissed him with longing and it was her apology for acting a damn fool. It was sugar to his brain, a much needed fix. Then she worked the kisses in an uneven pattern down his torso, licking and lovingly planting special Selange kisses to the healed scars. His eyes closed, under the loving care she displayed and his heart seized then somersaulted
into frenzy when his love’s mouth drew him in. She orally pleased him and the explosive aftershocks were like the impact of a bullet, the force was that great. He tousled her hair as she worked him so damn good he fired back in return. Whatever, the spectators were doing, he didn’t hear. The music was their bodies, everything else became silent. It was him and his love existing in a world no one else was supposed to enter. This place had been sacred, but she’d opened it with her act of sacrilege and allowed others to enter and pilfer it. However, her tenderness began to blast away the boulders in his mind and the crap stored there started tumbling down. An avalanche of rocks broke away from his brain and he his head felt light and his vision became restored. Right now, he could see so damn clear. He loved this goddamn woman. Period. End of story!
She crawled over him and widened her thighs to receive him and when she flowed like silk atop him, he gripped her soft hips mesmerized by her beauty. He grunt in Spanish, lifting his pelvis and she bounced in the air at each impact. He wanted her liquid sugar and sought to satisfy his sweet tooth at her expense. Selange hovered low like a jockey to grip his shoulders or get thrown off by the rapid pace in which he moved. He’d stored his passions for so long, it’s in the intimacy of their lovemaking, she received the force of it. Her raspy cry of ecstasy came with as much force as the orgasmic blasts sending fluid love straight to her epicenter as he burst through the gate in a climatic finish. Only then did she let go. She was panting and trembling, raining over him in a waterfall.
Once the heat of their bodies cooled and the tremors subsided she slid up then slapped his face, “You asshole!”
He grinned and she slapped the grin away. The third never happened because he was upright with her wrists high and a black scowl warning, she’d made her point. He was an asshole. Got it!
“What the fuck are you looking at, get the hell out of here you stupid bitches!” She shouted at his female guests.
Alfonzo swiveled his head to see the women scampering into their clothes. He’d forgotten they were there. He didn’t let go of her wrists, heck no and sat pulling her down on his lap. She tucked her head in the crook of his shoulder crying from humiliation. Hey, he didn’t understand what she was so ashamed about. Big deal, they had an audience, shit, her performance was stellar. He sighed, Selange was perplexing, and an adulterous prude seemed a contradictory term. She had a fierce spirit one minute and the next she cried like a baby. Damn, he missed her silly ass. He rubbed her wild hair and listened to her whimpering. Maybe, he went too far. She’d come to his hell and rescued him from it. He required a savior and she walked through that door, endured his debauchery then dragged him through the burning flames.
Her resolve hadn’t faltered the entire time, except here at the end. Warm tears rolled down his shoulder joining the moisture already clinging to his skin. He told the women in Spanish to hurry and leave. He needed privacy. He put his arms around her waist, watching the women gathering the last of their belongings and winked as they blew him kisses as they backed out the door. Michelina and Daniela were sexy lesbians with an arsenal of games –but the nonsense was done. He didn’t want the crap anymore; he wanted the crybaby-fierce adulterous prude in his arms.
He wouldn’t share his body or his heart with anyone, again. They belonged to Selange. He frowned when she sniffled and he took a finger and brushed aside the hair from her cheek. “Hey, babe come on look at me.”
“No, I can hear fine. I don’t need to look at you. You humiliated me. I don’t do this type of stuff, you know that and you got your kicks at my expense. I hope your whore friends liked the show.”
“I’m sure they didn’t,” he chuckled, not adding they would have preferred to lick her instead of watching him fuck. He wasn’t the main attraction, that’s for sure and those two were into being in the act. Had she liked women, they would have given her the S.T.A.R treatment. Yeah, it was their acronym for Sex That Ass Right. Except, he’d shown what a man’s version of the S.T.A.R treatment looked like.
He gave Selange his undivided attention, “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to do that.”
She wiped her face with the back of her hand, “I came here to talk to you about our legal problems. I’m scared as hell about going to jail.”
He soothed her, “You’re not going to jail; they’re trying to make me nervous.”
‘What if I am arrested?”
“You’ll be out in less than 72 hours, if I have to bust you out myself.”
“I’m scared. The kids need me.”
He pushed her chin up with a finger to view her face, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she answered unequivocally.
“I have this under control. But, if babe, somebody wants to send me a message through you, my lawyers will rip open their asses; let ‘em try it.”
She nodded.
He raised his knee with her on it, “Now, let’s talk about us. Do you still love this asshole?”
She didn’t lie. “You know I do.”
He grinned and his eyes lit up, “How about we do this relationship over, sólo nosotros esta vez, me siento?”
“Alfonzo, are you sure? Nico and the babies come with the deal. He’s the father.”
His eyes dimmed then became a fiery blue, “Look, it’s not going to be a joyful situation between me and that sonovabitch and you’ll need to accept that’s the way it is. But, the kids, they’re loved already. How can I not love Vincent and Angelina?”
She hiccupped a cry, “I know…oh, God, I’m sorry for putting you in this predicament. On the blood of my mother I’ll never hurt you like that again. I’m sorry I did this to our family and I plan to make it right by loving you to death.”
“Well, you better ‘cause I have this crazy obsession with you and nothing I did got rid of it. I guess it really is do or die for us.”
“Yep.”
He cupped her face, “Babe, as soon as this legal stuff is over, we’re getting married and I’m not letting anybody get in between us. You –are more than enough for me and I don’t want you to ever doubt it. You have to be with me one hundred percent going forward. If you have something that’s bothering you, come to me, if I’m being a shit, shout at me, but don’t go behind my back and stab me. Don’t, okay?”
“I swear I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.”
He put his forehead to hers, “And for crying out loud, limit the drinks, you get vicious with that mouth, for real.”
“If you limit yours.”
“I will, no doubt.” He held her arms, “Let’s keep this relationship on the down-low babe. I don’t want anybody coming after you to get to me. If I were the D.A. it’d look like fraud to me, too.”
“I guess it will.”
“I’ll stay here, we’ll hook-up don’t worry about that, but for now we’ll just keep quiet for a while. Do you think you can do that?”
When she smiled it was breathtaking, “Seriously, me, keep a secret?”
It’s then a roar of laughter bellowed from somewhere deep as if it’d been waiting to come out for decades. He laughed so damn hard he choked. Fucking-A, she could keep a secret, she’d kept a far more sinister one!
CHAPTER NINE
The plane from Indonesia landed at JFK airport at exactly five fifty three on Monday morning. The woman with the carry-on luggage and professional camera emerged from the terminal and caught a cab to Manhattan. The ride was faster than usual due to the early morning hour and she arrived near the South Street Seaport before seven. She made her way down the pier thinking how unbelievably empty it was compared to other ports she’d visited around the world. Uptight, anal Americans were so frightened of their own shadows they monitored the biggest transport systems, yet failed miserably in surveillance of the ports.
Yei, could have taken a connection flight to Miami or points south but this would leave a traceable itinerary. Her business for the most part was in New York. The hotel room there had its check-in, a woman fitting her description who b
y now was traveling up the elevator to her room for a week sight-seeing excursion. She’d take copious pictures for the travel magazine and upload them each day with an article for publication in the Indonesian travel magazine, Perji. The stand-in was fully compensated and Yei wasn’t concerned with blowing her cover because her American cousin Lila was a far better writer and they looked enough alike to fool people. She’d used Lila in the past and everything went smoothly. This time would be no different.
In her business, Yei trusted no one, except Lila. They were family and the money Yei received kept many of them out of poverty. They were loyal and dependency was the gun that assured they remained so.
“Good morning miss,” the sun-burned Captain greeted when she climbed on to the chartered boat.
“Morning.”
“We’re ready as soon as you get settled in down below.”
“Thank you.”
She carefully descended the narrow steps to the cramped cabin and put her bag in the overhead bunk and lay down on the firm cot. She closed her eyes and slept the entire voyage. There wasn’t a need for small talk, she despised talkative people. The Captain was paid to get her to Washington, D.C. He received payment already, and conversation wasn’t included in the compensation.
****
Nico waited at a nearby table, sipping on his mocha latté. This place didn’t serve herbal teas. It was a coffee shop. He’d changed the drop-off spot at the last minute, testing the contact, watching from his new location the deli across the street. He could see everything through the window, even the man walking with the brown bag tucked under his arm who just entered the deli. Nico scanned the streets, seeing if he was tailed, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He never dealt with this guy before and newbies well, were too green to even know if they were under surveillance. He called the cell number and the man answered. Nico gave him an instruction, “Order a bagel and coffee then ask to use the bathroom. Pay first, though then I want you to go inside the restroom, open the window and sit the bag there.” Nico instructed as he got to his feet and exited the coffee shop. He didn’t cross the street yet, he had to watch the cars. He did it easily in the dark shades without being obvious. He traveled to the corner then crossed the street with the other pedestrians still clutching the cell to his ear. He heard the man order as told then Nico added, “Ask to use the bathroom, now.”