Gio

by Kenya Wright

  “Like I could live in this tub with you washing my hair forever.”

  “It wouldn’t be a bad way to spend the rest of my life, playing with these curls.” He lathered my hair some more and then rinsed it out again. “Can I offer another bit of knowledge?”

  “Of course.”

  “We’re not all that bad. And sometimes when two musicians get together, it can be harmonious. You both get the process and understand the ups and downs of this industry.”

  “That sounds amazing. If I could get that, it would be awesome.”

  “However, you do have to focus.”

  “I try to be disciplined.”

  “You should. You’re almost there. You’ll be a star soon.” He finished washing my hair, but instead of his fingers leaving me, the tips brushed down to my cheeks and stopped at my lips. “But, don’t work too hard without playing a little.”

  I opened my eyes and I was lost again, gazing into an abyss of blue. It was like being in the center of a tornado, only I didn’t know if the wind was going to wreak havoc.

  He touched my bottom lip before dragging his hands away. His voice shifted to decadent and full of need, smooth and traveling straight to my toes. “And anytime you need to play, you may find that you’ll never have to look too far.”

  My whole body stiffened. He leaned forward so close I could feel the warmth of his breath cutting through the steam. I knew that if I looked at him, his face would be mere inches from mine.

  He licked his lips, rose from the tub, and ran his fingers through his hair. I could see his dick pressing against the front of his jeans, big and ready to bust out.

  He blew out a long breath. “I’ll be right back.”

  All I could squeak out was, “Okay.”

  “I’ll get you one of my shirts to put on for now.”

  I almost mentioned my suitcase of clothes that I was sure was already in the house, but I left it alone, wanting to feel anything of him on me.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  Chapter 8

  Giovanni

  Music is

  a safe kind of high.

  ~Jimi Hendrix

  In my dream, her voice whispered against me as she climaxed, her wetness pouring over my cock. The tip throbbed as I pumped, ready to load her with cum, with all of me. My heart. My soul.

  Simone could have it all.

  We fucked in a field of lilies and shadows. Moonlight bathed our naked bodies. Cool wind brushed my flesh.

  I balanced myself on top of her so I wouldn’t crush her into the bed.

  “Don’t stop.” She clung to my arms, moaning my name. “Gio.”

  My strokes shifted into deeper and longer movements, pushing us further into ecstasy.

  I was so close to emptying a load of hot cum into that sweet pussy—so warm and wet, hugging my length. Her sex pulsed. My blood raced.

  I gritted my teeth not ready to stop, but knowing I was so damn close to erupting inside her.

  And she was so ripe. I couldn’t catch my breath.

  She hit me with those pleading eyes wrapped in passion. “Is this just about sex?”

  “No, Simone, this is about so much more.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.” And then I came inside of her, spurting that white liquid all over that sweet pussy.

  Fuck. Fuck.

  Ecstasy vibrated through to my bones. My teeth clattered. Our flesh broke apart as we gripped each other, still bucking and rocking into each other. Rays of light spilled out of our skin. Her eyes bled light too, almost blinding me. And then I could no longer see anything either, just this clear brightness.

  Still, the orgasms ripped us apart.

  Still, we moaned and groaned into each other.

  Still, it was everything as we exploded, detonating, burning into white hot flames.

  I woke up, shivering with desire. The room was dark, only a little light peeled through the curtains. Across from me, Simone slept in my bed, bundled in tons of blue furs.

  After her bath, I’d returned to my chair and nodded off while watching her. Yawning, I checked my watch.

  Six in the morning.

  I leaned back in my chair and cracked my neck. It ached, but it didn’t matter. I enjoyed having Simone in my bedroom. After the bath, she’d eaten a little and fell back to sleep. I could’ve gone to play with my trains or hang out in the studio, but all I wanted to do was watch her sleep.

  This is going to get out of hand.

  Even from across the room, I didn’t feel like I was close enough to her.

  In the bath this morning, she’d further trapped me. I hadn’t touched her too much, but as I helped her, my fingertips tasted that soft skin. It was as smooth as the most expensive silk. I yearned to caress her, but I had to take this slow. I’d invited her here for business. I hadn’t intended on needing her for more than songs. However, if I was being truthful with myself, I’d always craved more.

  Ever since I heard that first song, she’d had my cock’s attention.

  As she slept in my bed, I studied Simone some more, wishing I could come closer and inhale her enchanting scent. Those black curls twisted and wound around like corkscrews, all black and glossy like ebony.

  Washing her hair had been the best moment of this year. I’d never done it before. Something about that moment said I could...and that I should. Something said that I should spoil her. Something said that I should care for her on all levels, not just her career, but physically and emotionally.

  Something said that she was mine.

  Mine?

  I shook my head and rubbed my face with both hands, not used to this feeling. I’d just been on my own last week and now...I couldn’t think of ever being alone in my bedroom, in this house, in my life, again.

  So independent, even hurt and not at her best, she stalked through my mind like a lioness. After the bath, I’d put my shirt on her, wanting my scent on that body. Her lovely legs had stuck out from the bottom of my shirt—thick thighs, curvy hips, fat ass. Her stiff nipples poked in front of the shirt as I helped her to bed. Those full breasts had me thinking twisted thoughts of her nursing me, spilling milk down my lips and chin as she rode me.

  She never asked for shorts or panties. We both knew she had nothing but beauty between those thighs…bare ecstasy. Had she been taunting me a little? That had been the question going through my mind as I watched her fall asleep.

  She’s not taunting you. She’s weak right now. Leave it alone.

  I rose from the chair, left the room, and headed downstairs. Neither one of us had eaten much this morning. We’d had that crazy night. Both of us needed sleep more than food.

  Now, I’m starving. I bet she will be hungry too.

  I figured the whole staff was knocked out. They’d helped me get Simone warm for several hours. The doctor had come through and left with a fat check that must’ve weighed his pockets down. He’d been so grateful he said he’d return through her stay to check up on her.

  My phone bounced in my pocket as I headed downstairs.

  I should call Mom and Dad. I forgot to check on them during Christmas. Simone had all my attention.

  I glanced at my phone. There were tons of missed calls, mainly from Ru and Midnight. I’d never let them know that Simone was okay and she didn’t charge her phone, so they probably thought she was still lost.

  I stopped at the second floor and texted Midnight.

  ME: She’s fine. She’s at my house.

  MIDNIGHT: It’s about time!

  ME: I was busy.

  MIDNIGHT: Clearly. Glad she’s fine. We should talk later.

  ME: Cool.

  For Ru, I figured it would be smarter to call him. He’d been just as worried as I was.

  The phone rang several times and then went to voice mail.

  “Hey, Ru,” I said. “I just wanted to let you know that Simone is fine. She had a small car accident, but we got to her. She’s walking and talking. I even had the
doctor come by to check on her. Call me later.”

  I hung up, hoping that was enough to ease his mind.

  Chatter came from the kitchen as I made my way there. Classical music played in the background. I walked through the double doors and the entire staff paused from what they were doing. One of the servants dropped her fork into a bowl of raw eggs.

  David hurried to me, still buttoning his shirt. “So, sorry, we had no idea you were up again. We’re just getting ready for tomorrow’s big dinner.”

  “No worries.” I held my hand up. “I’d actually just come down to grab Simone something.”

  David nodded. “Okay, sir. What would you like? We can bring it up to—”

  “Oh no. I can take it up myself.”

  Chef Judy exchanged looks with one of her helpers.

  David leaned forward and whispered, “You want to take the tray up yourself, sir?”

  “Yes.” I shrugged. “Is it crazy?”

  “Oh, no, sir.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “It wouldn’t be weird, right?”

  “No.” David formed his mouth into a smile. “It would actually be...hmmm. What’s a good term?”

  “Romantic.” Judy grinned.

  David appeared uncomfortable as he nodded.

  “But not creepy, right?” I asked. “Dad used to bring Mom breakfast in bed. Of course, Simone and I aren’t...we’re not together. I just want to do something nice for her. She had a rough night. She’s safe, but it was still an accident. She still could’ve died out there, had we all not been on guard.”

  David nodded again. “Very true, sir.”

  “So, I just want her to get as many good memories in these days to wash away any unease that came from that situation.”

  Judy’s face brightened as she clapped. “I could make something special.”

  “Good. I’ll wait over here, if that’s not a big deal.” I walked over to the seat by the island counter.

  Everyone continued their duties, glancing at me every now and then with odd expressions. They shut off the music and didn’t finish their conversation. An uneasy silence fell over the space.

  I disrupted the quiet. “I wanted to thank you all for helping me with Simone. That was amazing. You all worked hard, brought your knowledge to the situation, and basically saved her.”

  They turned to me at once, all appearing happy with what I’d said.

  “And,” I cleared my throat, “I realized that all this time I’ve been surrounded by these amazing people who spend their days taking care of me, and I don’t know much about them. So, from time to time, we should sort of hang together.”

  Judy glanced at David as he stood there with his mouth open.

  “Well, I won’t force myself on you all.”

  “Of course, sir.” David blinked his eyes several times. “We’re just...not accustomed to the people we serve wanting to get to know us better.”

  “I can see that, but let’s change it. We all live here together and from your work last night, I want you all with me for as long as possible.” I pointed to the radio. “Who was listening to Mozart?”

  Judy raised her hand. “I’m a fan of classical.”

  “Me too. Let’s get back to the music. You can’t have a good day without a beautiful song.”

  One of the staff giggled as she turned it on.

  “Okay.” I rubbed my hands together. “Let’s play a game. I tell you one thing about me that you may not know and then each person says something too. Jason and I would do this at parties. Are you all game?”

  All the women nodded with smiles, while David shrugged.

  “Okay. I’ll start,” I said. “When I was a kid, I dreamed of being a train conductor for the Polar Express. I wanted my job to be delivering letters to Santa.”

  A few giggled at the confession and told their own stories. The whole time, Judy did her thing in the kitchen, filling the space with lovely aromas—the savory simmer of sausage, the sweet fragrance of freshly squeezed lemonade, and the scent of homemade biscuits baking in the oven.

  After an hour, I’d learned a lot and had sampled some of Judy’s yummy treats. I knew that her servants were twins, Tammy and Tina. Both hoped to be private chefs one day, but were afraid that their dreams would separate them. To my shock, David had been from a long line of butlers. He couldn’t think of a time where any of the men in his family didn’t serve celebrities and royalty. He’d tracked his family tree and found that his ancestors had served King Louis IV.

  All their stories captivated me more than any of the television shows and movies I’d seen in the past months. I made it a point right then that I would go bother them every now and then and talk more.

  When Judy finished breakfast, she showed me how to decorate a nice tray for Simone. We worked together—I fumbled around, more in her way, than helping—but the whole staff had a blast, chuckling with each one of my slip-ups.

  She’d found this lovely silver tray with flowers carved into the handle and vines outlining it. We took our time finding the right pattern of china. At that point, David sat down and shook his head at us, smiling the whole time as we attempted to do his job.

  The twins came up with adding a vase. I’d picked a big bulky one. David shook his head, removed it, and placed a smaller one in the right corner.

  “There’s an art to service,” he said as he pulled out a newly ironed linen napkin, folded it, and placed it on the tray as if he was dancing in a ballet. “There’s a beauty to this.” He placed only the finest roses in the vase with the brightest blooms. “And as you put each item on there, you keep positive thoughts. Each item holds your energy. So, think positively.”

  He’d created a masterpiece, setting silverware here and there along with condiments. Judy made a spinach quiche with sausage. There was a bowl of fruit on the right, a tiny cup of tea on the left. Homemade biscuits melted under butter and jam.

  “Thank you, everybody.” I headed off with the tray.

  David followed. “I just want to make sure it makes it there and if I can help with anything else.”

  “Sounds good.” I grinned and thought of something. “By the way, I would like you to put some fresh flowers in the studio.”

  “Roses?”

  “Yes, and any other flower you can find. Call a florist and buy it all.”

  “Everything?”

  “Yes. Poinsettias. Sunflowers. Daisies. The whole lot.”

  “O-kay.”

  “Do you think they’d deliver it by tomorrow?”

  “Definitely.”

  “There we go. Let’s make it happen.” I gave him a wicked grin he didn’t understand.

  Ru could bring Simone a fresh set of flowers, but I would give her the whole damn garden—anything—to make her smile.

  We made it to my bedroom, although the stairs had been a bit of an obstacle. When I thought of all the times David had carried my food up to me, I felt guilty. His work wasn’t simple at all. He deserved a good bonus to start the new year.

  Once I approached my bedroom, David opened the door a crack, bowed, and left me to Simone.

  “Thanks again,” I called over my shoulder.

  “No problem, sir.” And then he stopped and looked at me. “This is a good thing.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes.” He gave me a knowing smile and left.

  I nudged the door open further with my foot and walked in. Simone rolled over and slowly opened her eyes.

  “Good Evening.” I set the tray down on my nightstand. “How did you sleep?”

  “That was probably the best sleep I’ve ever had. I usually pass out on my couch with a keyboard weighing down my legs.”

  “Workaholic.”

  “At times.” Her eyes widened as she drank in the tray.

  “This is your breakfast. I wasn’t sure if you had any allergies.”

  “No allergies. I eat pretty much everything but octopus and brains.”

  I smirked. “That’s
my type of eater.”

  Shock flashed across her face. “This looks amazing.”

  “You’ll have to think the chef later. Her name is Judy.”

  “I definitely will.” She sat up. “Can I eat here on the bed or—”

  “Go ahead. My bed is your bed.”

  She giggled.

  “What’s so funny?” I gave her a wicked grin. “You don’t want the comforts of my bed?”

  “I do. I just shouldn’t get used to it.”

  “Why not?”

  She took a piece of her biscuit, nibbled, and groaned with joy. “Because I won’t be sleeping here the whole time. In fact, you’ll have your bed tonight. I’m in good health. I feel amazing, like I went to a spa retreat for several days. I can go to the room you have set for me.”

  Disappointment hit me. I didn’t want her to leave my bed, but I didn’t have any good excuse to keep her in there.

  “Hmmm.” I sat down next to her. She unfolded the napkin, placed the tray on her legs, and sampled the quiche.

  “Wow.”

  “I had some too. Judy is showing off her culinary skills today.”

  “I could eat this for the rest of my life and be fine.”

  “Good. I’ll make sure she makes this tomorrow.” And not able to let her thoughts of moving go, I said, “You should stay here another night.”

  In between bites, she mumbled, “Where?”

  “In my bed.”

  She swallowed and stared at me.

  “I know you feel fine, but you’re still weak and I want to take care of you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “But, I worry about your neck, Mr. Ferraro.”

  “My neck is fine. The chair is comfortable. And...”

  “And?” she whispered.

  “And I enjoy watching you sleep. It’s comforting.”

  “Do I snore?”

  “No. You just peacefully lay there. It relaxes me.”

  She didn’t return to eating. “Okay. Maybe another night would be okay.”

  “It would.” I decided not to push for more days. Tomorrow was another day to get her to stay in my bed again.

  “Will we be working tomorrow?” she asked, all business.

  “I’ll show you the studio, but we don’t have to start writing. We have plenty of time.”