Below the Belt

by Sidney Halston

  “Seriously? I thought everyone who lived in these backward-ass small towns did that sorta shit.”

  He grabbed the cup and gulped down its contents, slamming the empty cup on the table. “Coño! I’ve had to drink every time. I can’t believe none of you guys have done that.”

  “I don’t even think there are cows in Tarpon Springs,” Jack said, still laughing. Even Cain snorted.

  “You suck at this game, burro,” Francesca said.

  “Hey! I know what a burro is,” Tony protested.

  “What’s that?” Violet asked.

  “A donkey,” Tony replied.

  “More like an ass,” Francesca said.

  “I warned you, woman. One more and it’s my turn to play.”

  Chrissy, who Francesca noticed had been watching her and Tony closely, cut in. “It’s my turn again.”

  “Babe, I haven’t gone yet and neither has…well, almost anyone else.”

  “Hush!” Chrissy waved her hand at Jack. “I’m going again. I have a good one.” Her words were starting to slur a little. “I’ve never wanted to kiss Tony.”

  “What the fuck? I would hope not!” Jack exclaimed, but Chrissy ignored him, leaning forward to see what Francesca would do, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. When Francesca didn’t make a move, Chrissy huffed, “Shit! I thought you were into each other. Damn it.”

  “You guys spend all day verbally effing each other. I was sure something was going on too,” Jessica added.

  “With us? No way,” Francesca said incredulously, and refilled her cup to the brim. “You’re crazy.”

  “What’s crazy is that you’re being all twitchy, and more uptight than usual,” Tony said in a serious tone.

  Jessica and Chrissy were looking at each other as if they were having a silent exchange. “Okay, okay. My turn, my turn.” Jessica was jumping up and down. Jack and Slade rolled their eyes.

  “I’ve never wanted to kiss Francesca,” Jessica said, sounding very sure of herself. She high-fived Chrissy, and then they both turned their attention to Tony. Tony didn’t hesitate in downing his drink.

  “You see what I just did there, cariño? It’s called being honest. I know you’ve wanted to kiss me,” Tony said. “Just a little while ago, outside—”

  Francesca threw a cushion at him, effectively shutting him up. “Stop it.”

  “Francesca,” Tony said in a stern voice.

  Francesca’s face was getting redder and she was fidgeting with her cup. “Can you please stop it?” she said to Tony.

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop being all…” She flailed her arms around. “Sexual. Stop it.” She stood up. This conversation was making her very uncomfortable.

  “I’m not being sesual,” Tony replied.

  “Dude, you keep forgetting those x’s. Sesual? No wonder she doesn’t want to kiss you,” Slade joked.

  “Jour just jealous,” Tony shot back, exaggerating his accent. “Women love a man with an accent. Isn’t that right, ladies?”

  Jessica, Chrissy, and Violet all giggled and nodded, but Francesca was already up and walking away. “Be right back. Going to tidy up a bit,” she said over her shoulder, her voice sounding strange.

  “Yeah, an accent, not a speech impediment, brother,” Slade said.

  But Tony ignored him, instead focusing on the woman who was avoiding the conversation. Why was she always so agitated around him? Weren’t they past all of this already?

  Chapter 5

  Tony stood, grabbed some of the empty plates and glasses, and followed Francesca into the kitchen. She was rinsing some cups by the sink and didn’t notice him approaching. One thing was for sure: the woman was skittish around him. It was subtle and he was sure no one else noticed, but he did. She blushed when he was around—oh, she didn’t turn beet red, but her skin would definitely flush. She would chew her lower lip, avoid eye contact, and be an overall huge pain in his ass—more than usual.

  The woman had a temper and a fiery personality, and he loved to provoke her, mostly because he thought it was all playful flirting; it was never with the intention of making her feel uncomfortable or truly angry. He just felt a need to rile her up to get a rise out of her. Sorta like foreplay. But now he wasn’t so sure. This time she actually seemed genuinely…hurt?

  He’d seen her pissed off with other people; hell, on more than one occasion at the Academy, he’d been on the receiving end of that anger. But she’d never blushed or avoided contact with others. In fact, he was sure she could go head-to-head with anyone without batting an eye. She was a tigress. But he got to see a different side of her when he riled her up. It was subtle, but it was there. Yes, she was still a tigress, but somehow she was a fidgety mess of a tigress. More like a scared pussy cat. Speaking of pussy…

  “I’m thinking you’re scared of the hurricane,” he whispered in her ear.

  She jumped and dropped the plate she was holding. Water and soap splattered all over the place. “Holy fuck!” She turned, her eyes wide and her hand over her heart. “You scared the shit out of me.” He was standing so close to her, he could feel the rise and fall of her chest on his.

  “You don’t need to be scared of the storm, cariño.”

  She pushed him away with her sudsy hands. “I’m not scared.”

  “You sure ’bout that?” He smiled. It was what he was known for, that crooked smile. That’s what got the women swooning. “You ran in here all twitchy.”

  “Stop saying that! I’m not twitchy!” She squared her shoulders and crossed her arms over her ample chest.

  “Oh, really?” He cocked one eyebrow and ran a finger down her cheek. She flinched, then stepped aside and out of his reach.

  “Okay, so I get that you don’t like to be put on the spot in front of the others, but you’re going to stand here and tell me you don’t want to kiss me?”

  “We’re back to that?” she asked.

  “Yes. We’re back to that, and we’ll keep going back to that until you just accept it. I can be very relentless when I want something, and I want to kiss you again.”

  “Well, I don’t want to kiss you.”

  “Liar,” he said. “Yesterday you wanted more, and today, outside, you definitely looked like you wanted to kiss me. In fact, I bet if we hadn’t been interrupted we’d still be panting from all the—”

  “Would you stop that!” She tried to move away, but he didn’t let her. “Stop talking like that. I don’t like it. It makes me uncomfortable. Before that night with you I hadn’t had sex in eight years!” she hissed. As soon as she said it, her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth.

  He stepped back and didn’t say anything for far too long.

  “Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that. Just forget I said it,” she muttered.

  “Did you say you hadn’t slept with a man in eight years?” He ran his hands through his hair and down his face. “Why didn’t you say anything? Jesus, Francesca, I feel like an asshole.” He paced around the kitchen saying things in Spanish she didn’t understand. “That explains why you were so tight. I could’ve hurt you. Damn it!” His hands were fisted by his sides.

  She turned and went back to the dishes. “It’s not a big deal. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…well, that’s why sex talk makes me uncomfortable. I’m not used to it, is all. But don’t worry about it. Just forget I said anything.”

  He let out a deep breath and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Francesca. So sorry. Our first time shouldn’t have happened that way.” He leaned in close. “I had no idea. You’re so sexy. How is that even possible? Eight years?”

  She groaned. “Just forget it. Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Can I kiss you?”

  She looked surprised at his change of subject, but she stood her ground. “No.” Her obvious discomfort made him feel even more assured, and quite frankly it turned him on. “Cariño,” he whispered, ignoring her answer, leaning closer to her now. “Let me try again, t
ake you the way I should’ve taken you. You want me to kiss you, don’t you? I’ll be soft this time.”

  She shook her head. She seemed so nervous he was afraid she would actually cry.

  He held her chin and tipped her head up. Her eyes were wide but she didn’t push him away. “I want to know what you’re thinking.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I’m…I don’t know…I can’t think straight.” She straightened her spine, but it wasn’t convincing.

  He leaned down. “Are you ready?”

  She whispered breathlessly, “Ready for what?”

  “I’m going to kiss you now.” He moved closer. “You can stop me.”

  She was like a scared kitten that might claw him if he made a too-sudden movement. He had to play this delicately. He gently moved her hair away from her shoulders and softly cupped the sides of her neck. He could feel her pulse under his grip. His lips were a mere breath away, and he noticed her throat moving as she tried to swallow.

  He kissed one cheekbone first, then the other one.

  “I’m not good at this,” she admitted.

  “At what?” He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Last night’s kiss was perfect.”

  “At this.” That got his attention. He wasn’t sure what she meant. At kissing? At relationships? At what?

  The woman was sex personified. He’d never met anyone who oozed so much sensuality. Her tight little suits, her sexy-as-hell body, the confident way she carried herself…What the hell did she mean? He wanted to ask, but the urge to feel his mouth against hers dominated his thoughts more than whatever she was saying. He knew he was being an asshole for not digging deeper, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her plump lips.

  “Cariño.” He moved down and kissed the corner of her mouth. She gasped and her lips parted. He took the opportunity to lightly trace his tongue along the seam of her lip, but she didn’t respond other than to close her eyes and grip his wrists. It was the least passionate kiss he’d ever had, yet he’d never felt so impacted by a kiss in his life. There was so much emotion behind it that even though there was no collision of tongues, no flushed bodies, no sense of urgency, he wanted to pick her up and carry her to her room. He wanted to show her how impossible it was for her to be bad at anything as far as he was concerned. She was just too sexy, too beautiful, too self-assured.

  He pulled away and looked at her. To his surprise, she looked at him for a second before saying, “Fuck it.” She fisted his hair and drew him to her, her lips crashing toward his.

  At first she seemed apprehensive, but when one arm wrapped around her waist and held her close, her back arched and she placed a hand on his chest. He could practically hear her internal debate. Should she push him away or pull closer? The hand on his chest pushed slightly against him as he slowly deepened the kiss. She was participating, but not fully. Then the same hand slowly closed into a fist, taking part of his shirt with it, hauling him closer, her tongue breaching his lips. She tasted so good, like wine and cookies. Intoxicating. His grip constricted around her waist, bringing her completely flush against him, and the other hand gripped the back of her neck. And when she whimpered quietly into his mouth, it took all the resolve he had not to rip her clothes off her and feast on every inch of her body right on her kitchen table.

  —

  What the hell had gotten into her? She was practically dry-humping Tony in her kitchen with a room full of people in the other room. But she couldn’t help it—she was too drunk on emotions to think straight. Damn!

  He felt so good. But then he pulled her closer and she felt his hardness pressed against her, and the whole situation scared the shit out of her. When was the last time she had felt this way? She pulled back, startling him and herself in the process. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, avoiding his hooded eyes.

  He took a predatory step toward her, and she held her arm up. She needed distance.

  “What happened?” he asked in a deep voice.

  “That was—” She shook her head. “This was a mistake. I’ve already told you, I don’t want a relationship. I was able to handle one night, but that kiss didn’t say ‘one night’ to me. It didn’t say ‘fun.’ It screamed ‘complicated’ and ‘messy.’ I have too many things going on. This is a mistake,” she repeated, as if she was trying to convince herself.

  “Didn’t feel like a mistake.” He reached for her face and touched her hot cheek with the back of his palm. Her stupid, traitorous body should’ve understood the gravity of the situation and flinched or moved away. Instead, her eyes closed and she leaned into his caress.

  At a loud bang coming from the other room, their eyes widened, and they jerked out of their lustful haze. They ran out of the kitchen to find Chrissy and Jessica in a panic while Jack, Slade, Cain, and Violet stood by the sliding door that led to the backyard. The dogs were all barking in their carriers frantically. Cain was arguing with Violet and asking her to go to the other end of the room with the rest of the women, but Violet was not budging.

  “What was that noise?” Francesca asked.

  “Something must’ve hit one of the plywood boards and cracked it,” Jack said, pointing to the glass door. “See right there? I think it’ll be okay, but the winds are really picking up now.”

  The men were standing close to the sliding door, trying to determine whether they should go out and repair it. Violet and Francesca were standing a bit away, careful not to get too close just in case the plywood suddenly blew away.

  Then the lights started flickering and the entire group stopped talking and looked up to the ceiling. Soon there would be no electricity. Francesca ran to the box full of flashlights and handed them out. The girls tried to turn on the television, but the cable was already out and there was only static on the screen. “Go see what it says on the radio, babe,” Slade instructed Jessica. “I brought the hurricane radio. It’s by our stuff. And can someone please shut the dogs up?” Jess nodded and walked across the room with Chrissy to turn on the radio and deal with the dogs.

  The group listened silently as the radio reported that the winds had reached upward of 120 miles per hour.

  Jessica was clinging to Slade, who whispered something in her ear and rubbed her back. “I think we’re going to crash. Try to get some sleep just in case tomorrow turns out to be a big day of cleaning up,” Slade said to Francesca. He began to unroll a couple of sleeping bags on the carpet in the living room.

  “Yes. Of course. Help yourselves to anything you need.”

  With one final flicker, the lights were gone. They all stood in her living room in pitch darkness until Violet turned on her flashlight, followed by everyone else. “I guess sleep is a good idea. Not like we can see anything anyway.”

  “You mind if I take a quick shower?” Tony asked Francesca. “Luckily I had my gym bag with extra clothes in the car.”

  “Sure. Chrissy is using the bathroom in the hall. You can use the one in my room. It’s the last door to the left.” He picked up his gym bag and walked away. Once everyone else seemed settled, Francesca went to her room and changed into a T-shirt and boxer shorts and climbed into her bed.

  It was not going to be easy to sleep with all the noise coming from outside, but she closed her eyes anyway. A few minutes later she felt the bed dip.

  “So…,” he said.

  Francesca turned around to look at Tony but couldn’t see much more than an outline sitting on the edge of her bed. “Yes?”

  “Where am I sleeping?”

  “Find a spot,” she answered.

  She felt his weight shift as he lifted himself off the bed, which was a relief. He couldn’t have possibly thought she was going to invite him to sleep on her—

  Suddenly a warm body brushed against hers. “What the hell, Tony?” She bolted up, bringing the covers to her neck, which was unnecessary—with no lights, he certainly couldn’t see anything.

  “You told me to find a spot. Here’s a spot. Come on, you don’t expect me to slee
p on the floor, do you? I didn’t bring a sleeping bag and I’m tired. I bet the rest of the guys took all the pillows and blankets you left for them, and you have this huge bed. Don’t be selfish, cariño. And don’t be such a bed hog. Move over.”

  She lay back down, moving over slightly, her back to him. “Since you helped me so much today, at the gym and then here, I’ll agree to let you sleep here. But stay on that side of the bed, buster.”

  “Aye aye, Captain.” She felt him move close, then his warm lips pressed quickly to her cheek in a sweet kiss. “Goodnight.”

  “Thanks for today, Tony. Really. Thank you.”

  “Yes, it was a very good kiss, wasn’t it? I should be thanking you.”

  She turned and hit him with a pillow. “I meant for helping me with the gym and my house. Not the kiss. We shall not speak of those kisses.”

  He laughed. “I’ll give you some time to process the inevitable. Because we’re going to kiss again. We’ll do a lot more. Let’s not pretend I’m the only one who wants a redo.”

  She groaned as she rolled over onto her side, her back to him. “Ugh. I can’t even think about whatever caveman nonsense you’re saying, because it’s getting so hot in here.”

  “I give you ten minutes before you’re naked,” he said.

  What? The gall! “You wish, buddy!” She fluffed her pillow and threw her head back on it.

  “At least topless,” he added. “You’ll see.”

  They didn’t speak for some time, both lost in their thoughts. The silence between the two was deafening even with the loud pounding outside from the wind and rain. Then she began to laugh. She didn’t want to, but the awkwardness of the situation made it impossible not to. She felt his body shake next to her as he began to laugh too.

  “This is weird,” she giggled.

  “What is? You and me in bed together? The hurricane?”

  “Everything,” she said, and they both laughed. Then the laughter slowly subsided and Tony moved closer.

  “You’re making me hot. Stay on your side.”

  “You always make me hot,” he muttered, his warm breath against her neck.