Dirty Secrets

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Dirty Secrets Page 4

by Drummond, Lonaire


  She asked although she already knew the answer.

  “They want to name their first born child after me, or they wish to end my life with a bullet to the head.” he said.

  “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for people losing their livelihoods.”

  “I’m not. Their employers are the ones to blame. I just clean up the mess. What do you do?”

  “I am…..was an executive assistant. Have you ever heard of Corentini Inc, more specifically, Corentini toilet paper.”

  “What happened?”

  “I quit. My boss didn’t appreciate me. I let my job destroy me.”

  “And you came here to celebrate?”

  “Not quite. St. Lucia chose me.” she said just as Basil stopped at the botanical gardens.

  “The botanical gardens boasts a large variety of trees on its property such as coconut, cocoa, mahogany, and cedar trees. There are flowers and shrubs from around the tropical world planted here for your enjoyment,” Basil said.

  Adele felt as if she was looking through a kaleidoscope. There were rows upon rows of Bougainvilleas, but the violet flowers were Adele’s favorites. The yellow and red Heliconia’s resembled tiny fire balls. St. Lucia’s national flowers, La Rose and the La Marguerite, both captured the spirit of the island. The red of the rose symbolized the hot Caribbean sun and the Marguerite, signified St. Lucia’s resiliency.

  “There’s so much beauty here,” Adele said.

  “I agree,” Ambrogio said.

  Adele hoped he was referring to her instead of flowers. They ate some conch fritters and sampled coconut water at a roadside snack shack and then headed off to the mineral baths.

  “The mineral baths have healing powers,” Basil said.

  “I wanted to bring Felicità to the baths,” Ambrogio said.

  “You believe in old wive’s tales?” Adele asked.

  “The folklore cultivates hope. I believe she will get well.”

  The tour ended at a restaurant named Martha’s Tables, the best food on the island, according to Basil. Family owned and situated in front of the family residence, it’s electric green décor and burgundy plastic patio tables gave the establishment a rustic down home appeal.

  “I always come here when I’m in St. Lucia for business. It reminds me of Trattorie in Italy. The people are warm and the food is benissimo.” Ambrogio held his fingers together and planted a kiss on them.

  Ambrogio, Adele, and even Basil had no qualms about participating in the sinful food orgy on display at Martha’s Tables. They dined on spicy jerk pork, fish in Creole sauce, fish cakes, lobster, cod, pasta and rice. Adele balanced a mountainous formation of food on her plate, shocking Ambrogio.

  “The lady likes to eat,” he said.

  “I like a lot of things.”

  “Are you offering something?”

  “When I offer something of interest to you, you’ll know.” She picked up her fork and mined into her plate.

  Chapter 10

  Ambrogio and Adele returned to their hotel tired and stuffed tighter than a turkey on Thanksgiving. It had taken a sizable tip for Basil to leave without Adele’s number, a price Ambrogio was more than willing to pay.

  “I have one last surprise,” he said.

  “What’s up those tailored sleeves of yours?”

  “It’s in my room.”

  “There’s a surprise for me…in your room? Come to my room, we’ll only watch a movie is guy code for I’m gonna try to nail you,” Adele said.

  “If I wanted to make love to you, I would just say so. Come.” Ambrogio extended his arm.

  “Fine.”

  They climbed several flights of stairs and then negotiated a path leading to Ambrogio’s cottage. It was on the highest point in the property at one thousand feet above sea level. Face to face with the grandiosity of Ambrogio’s cottage, Adele thought the term “mini mansion” more accurately described the property.

  Mere wood floors gave way to rock and marble where the cottage would be exposed to the elements. The cottage’s fourth wall, the ocean, clapped and bowed as the sun answered its final curtain call for the day. Ambrogio helped Adele climb into a swing hanging over his infinity pool. They sipped spiced pear punch while the darkness chased the rest of the sun away from the sky.

  “This is your cottage? Adele asked, astonished by the view.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t it. Every time I come here, the hotel takes considerable pains to decorate it differently, hence the nautical beach theme.”

  “Who do you have to know to get a cottage with a view like this?”

  “You know me.”

  “Thanks for making me go on the tour. It was amazing.”

  Left to her own devices, Adele would have just fallen asleep on the beach while reading a trashy romance novel.

  “You’re welcome.”

  An awkward silence settled in between them.

  “I should be going now,” she said.

  She rose quickly, intent on following through on her words only to be greeted by dizziness, courtesy of the potent rum punch.

  “Why are you so abrupt?”

  “My old boss was the mayor of Abrupt Town. I guess it has rubbed off on me.”

  “Stay a little longer.”

  “Why?” Adele asked.

  “Why not?”

  “Don’t answer my question with another question,” she said.

  “Are you scared of me, Adele?”

  She looked at him for a long time before she responded. The chains on the swing creaked in anticipation of her answer.

  “You intimidate me.”

  “What’s intimidating about me?” Ambrogio asked.

  “Your general way of being, I guess. You have no respect for my personal space or boundaries. You say whatever is on your mind, damn the consequences. You’re confident and just plain sexy. I’m waiting for a mean girl to peak her head around a corner and tell me there is no way someone like you could be interested in me,” she said.

  “Come here.”

  “I’m leaving.” She dismounted the swing clumsily and headed for an exit.

  “Stop running.” Ambrogio reached out for her.

  He followed Adele into the kitchen and grabbed her body from behind. Once she stopped squirming, he turned her around and pulled her into the hard plains of his body. The ice clattered when he took her glass out of her hands.

  “Don’t,” Adele said.

  His touch felt like running under the fire hydrant on a steamy summer day, it refreshed and left a chill running throughout her body. They stood nose to nose, breathing in time with each other’s desire. Then Ambrogio did the unthinkable: he devoured Adele’s mouth. Her resistance prompted him to grab the back of her neck, stopping her movements entirely.

  He sucked on her bottom lip for a few beats and then let go, but the assault on her senses had just begun. His second method of attack, light kisses dusted against her face, gave him an unfair advantage. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her in for another kiss. This new position had Adele balancing on her tip-toes in an effort to gain more access to his mouth. Never in her life, had she been kissed so deeply.

  Still connected to Ambrogio’s lips, Adele walked backwards until she felt the edge of the kitchen counter graze her back. A fuse lit by Ambrogio’s mouth traveled down to her hardened nipples, before the fire settled in her stomach, turning it upside down. Her drink still in his hand, Ambrogio wreaked more havoc on her with his skillful tongue, the fuse finally ignited in her core, a pair of wet panties the casualty of his ruthless attack.

  Ambrogio broke the kiss long enough to discard the drink and grab her by the waist. In one effortless motion, he hoisted her onto the countertop and stepped inside the inviting space between her legs. For round two of his attack, he latched onto her neck, suckling and biting until she palmed his head.

  “I want more.” Adele felt the length of his erection rub against her leg.

  He nodded and reached for her thighs. His tou
ch was deliberate but gentle. Adele whimpered into his mouth to demonstrate her eagerness. He massaged her inner thigh. Adele wasn’t ready when Ambrogio grasped her mons through her underwear.

  Her hips undulated against his touch when he moved her panties to the side, tracing the outline of her lips before a thick digit plunged into her flesh. She gasped and opened her eyes to find him studying her. The emerald in them had returned from this morning, but with a darker edge.

  “I want to lick you here.” His ministrations inside her warmth continued.

  When he inserted another finger, Adele groaned from a mixture of pleasure and pain. Without warning, he removed his fingers from her and pulled at her lace panties until they ripped. The torn remnants tossed aside. Exposure to the cool marble on the counter temporarily cooled the fire raging between her legs.

  “Ambrogio.”

  “No talking, Cara,”

  She never liked receiving orders, yet at his command her wetness leaked onto the countertop. To her surprise licked her arousal off the counter.

  “I never let anything go to waste,” Ambrogio said when he was done.

  Not done tormenting Adele, he rolled his tongue leisurely over her clitoris. Adele bucked and moan against the sensation. He then licked a figure eight into her center several times. The torturous way he avoided her clit during each pass drove Adele crazy.

  Adele had never been one to watch, but the shock of Ambrogio’s tongue suckling on her propelled her body upward. Relentless, Ambrogio alternated between slow licks, grazing her clit with his teeth.

  A scream, ripped from the bottom of her belly, tore through her as she rode her orgasm out on his tongue. Just when Adele thought she would die from the pleasure, he let her clit go. He reached for her abandoned glass, scavenged an ice cube from it and placed it into his mouth.

  With a smile, he hooked his arms around her thighs and went back to work. His frosted tongue lapped at Adele’s bud, lifting her off of the table. She grasped his hair and rode out her first orgasm.

  “More, please.” She pushed his face deeper into her sex.

  He answered by blowing on her clit, making it plump up even more with desire. With the aid of another ice cube, Ambrogio spread her legs and proceeded to fuck her tunnel with his cold tongue. Adele’s limbs went numb.

  The only thing securing her to this earth was Ambrogio holding her hand while she came down from another orgasm.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Are we going to fuck now?”

  Her legs were still splayed open on the countertop. He kissed her hand, closed her legs and helped her sit up.

  “Animals fuck. When I make love to you, I will say the words. You will know it’s coming.” He helped her down from the kitchen counter.

  “Oh.” Adele was disappointed.

  “I have found the one way to stop your incessant chattering.”

  “Very funny.” Adele laughed too, but mostly out of embarrassment.

  “I like it when you laugh. It should happen more often.” Ambrogio moved a sweat-drenched strand of hair out of her face.

  “So, what now?”

  “Let me walk you back to your cottage,” he said

  “No, I’m fine.” She needed to be out of his line of sight. He had short circuited her neurons.

  “I insist.” Ambrogio took her hand and linked it with his. At her cottage, they kissed again, although it lacked the intensity of their kisses before, the touch of his lips against hers weakened her resolve.

  Once she was safely behind her cottage doors, she asked herself, “What did I just do?”

  Chapter 11

  Too wired to sleep, Adele lay in bed trying to process what just happened with Ambrogio. Every time she thought of his head between her legs, she felt his phantom licks against her. The sex pangs had Adele hornier than she has ever been in her entire life.

  Ambrogio had dangled his penis in front of her, just out of reach. She was still amazed at just how much she wanted to mount him. Besides fleeting romances with her battery operated boyfriend, she never saw much action down under. Alleging abandonment, her vagina had packed up and left without a forwarding address—until tonight.

  She gave up on sleep and dialed her friend’s number instead, hoping to post bail on her Robynne-less prison sentence. Three failed attempts prompted Adele to change her tactics. This time, Adele left a message she was sure Robynne would respond to.

  “I just had a one night stand.” Adele counted to herself, stopped at the number three, and before she could put her phone down, it rang.

  “You popped your one night stand cherry?” Robynne asked.

  “So, you’re not mad at me anymore?”

  “I’m still mad, but I’m sending my anger on sabbatical so I can get the scoop. Spill it,” Robynne said.

  “Technically, it wasn’t a one night stand.”

  “I knew you concocted this fictional fly-by-night fuck to get me to call you. The girl who cried one night stand. I can’t believe you would stoop so low. I’m hanging up,” Robynne said.

  “He went down on me…does that count?”

  “I’m listening,” Robynne said.

  “It was amazing.”

  “It’s about time. The sex gods owed you one. Remember the guy who almost gave you a hysterectomy with his stubble a few years ago?” Robynne said.

  “Don’t remind me. I couldn’t sit straight for days. This guy is arrogant, demanding, a little rude, but the “I’m Italian” thing, and his GQ model looks make up for it,” Adele said.

  “He’s Italian? You went from batting zero to the major leagues in a matter of hours,” Robynne said.

  “What’s with the baseball reference?” Adele knew Robynne hated sports.

  “CT took me to a Yankee’s game,” Robynne said.

  “You willingly went to a sport event. You must really be in love.”

  ‘I am.”

  Adele was happy for her friend. Robynne’s divorce last year from “The Deadbeat” left her emotionally unavailable and off the market until she met CT at Corentini.

  “So, when are you going to see him again?”

  “I’m not. He’s way too intense for me,” Adele said.

  “Getting some tongue play is great, but it’s kind of like going to the movies and leaving after the previews. You need to get your monies worth.”

  “Logically where can this quasi relationship go? I’m only here for five more days. I don’t even know where he lives,” Adele said.

  “Stop trying to plan everything. Have some fun. You’re entitled to it.”

  “I guess,” Adele said.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Ambrogio Argentero.”

  “Did you Google him?”

  “No computers or TV’s here,” Adele said.

  “Don’t worry, Robynne is on the job.”

  “Thanks Robynne. I’m sorry about this St. Lucia thing.”

  “Save your apologies. Let me borrow your black Prada heels.”

  “Fine.”

  The talk with Robynne made Adele feel better. She would take her advice and just have fun, but at this very moment, Adele needed to take a cold shower. She washed her herself under the stars, wondering if she could take the open-air shower home with her. Invigorated, restored and sexy, she decided to let Ambrogio catch her.

  The next morning a more confident Adele emerged from her room in a Tangerine-colored maxi dress. It made her glow under the sunlight. She inhaled the fresh sea-side air and prayed she had enough guts to follow through with her plan.

  The white string bikini she bought in the hotel boutique left little to the imagination. Glad her daily 4:45 a.m. workouts were about to pay off, Adele opted to avoid a belly-bloating breakfast, and sought out to cast her net instead, the earlier the better. There was no answer at Ambrogio’s, so she walked over to Felicità’s cottage where her intended victim, Ambrogio, answered the door looking edible.

  “Buon Giorno, Adele.” Ambrogio
kissed both of Adele’s cheeks.

  “I wanted to see if you and Felicità wanted to accompany me to the Anse Chastnet Beach,” Adele asked.

  “The black-sand beaches? I don’t think my grandmother is feeling up to it.”

  Adele fixed her mouth to object when Felicità pulled the door open. “Ci piacerebbe andare la spiagga con te.”

  She wore an ankle length, black and red sun dress. She was a fit woman. Her skin still had its elasticity despite her age. The dress exposed her toned arms and a healthy portion of her décolletage. Felcità could bring about the envy of women half her age. Her bouts of forgetfulness were the only indication of her advanced years.

  “Nonna, non penso che andare la spiaggia sia un buon idea,” Ambrogio said.

  “Smetti trattarmi come una bambina. Ho settantuno anni, posso rendere le mie decisioni,” Felicità said.

  “Sono spiacente, nonna,” Ambrogio said.

  Adele found his behavior a bit strange, but she chalked it up to a worried grandson trying to protect his grandmother. She was happy to have witnessed Ambrogio’s verbal spanking. At seventy-one, she had earned the right to make her own decisions, even though Adele didn’t think she looked a day over forty-five. Adele took Felicità’s arm and guided her down the pathway towards guest services with Ambrogio, and Marissa, Felicita’s nurse in tow.

  I ordered some snacks for our little trip,” Adele said.

  She hoped her happiness would be infectious, but it did little to change Ambrogio’s mood.

  Adele arranged for Yanice to pick them up. Felicità insisted on sitting in the front seat next to Yanice, leaving Ambrogio, Adele and the nurse in the back of the cab. Ambrogio barely said two words to Adele since she greeted him in Felicità’s cottage earlier.

  He spent a majority of the car ride either on the phone talking business or staring out the window. Adele took the opportunity to bathe in his appearance, letting it wash over her. On one of her many trips down his body, she noticed he had a tattoo of a strange flower on his ankle. She leaned in for a better look only for Ambrogio to catch her ogling him.

  “I see you took my advice,” Yanice said.

  “Yes, I’m trying to have fun, but some people are making it very hard,” Adele said.

 

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