Nothing Else But You

by Elle Wright

  “Hey. Ivy League. What’s the rush?”

  He opened her door. “Get in the car.”

  “In a hurry to get home?”

  He nodded. Once.

  Code keyed in. Car parked. Up the stairs. Opened the front door. Natalia closed it, and he was on her. Pushed against the door, he leaned into her, his hands flat against the wood, his mouth on hers taking, tangling, moaning, sucking her tongue, biting her lips, licking her neck, nipping her lobe.

  Mine.

  His hands went between them, he unzipped her jeans, pushed his fingers down until he hit the wet heat of her. Not enough. He reached around to his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, fished out a condom, ripped it open, got his jeans to his knees, rolled on the condom, yanked down her jeans and waited the long seconds it took her to step out of them, then he lifted her until her legs were wrapped around his waist.

  He fucked her against the door, his heart thundering with the breakneck pace of his pistoning hips. She screamed his name when she came. That’s right, baby, no one else but me. Then he shuffled them over to the couch, pulled out, turned her around and bent her over the arm of the sofa.

  He toed off his Nike’s, stepped out of his jeans, got on his knees, and ate her out. She came again, and he kept at her. She begged, “Too much,” and he thought, not nearly enough.

  He stuck his fingers into her dripping pussy and dragged the moisture to her hole, then pushed two fingers in while massaging the globe of her ass. When he’d stretched her, he stood and pushed the head of his dick into her hole, waited, then pushed in farther. He reached around and pressed her clit between his thumb and forefinger as he sank all the way into her.

  Goddamn. So fucking tight. They’d talked about how neither of them had ever done this, but wanted to. Tonight he was claiming all of her. His. Forever. Slowly, he slid back then pushed in, the friction so intense he knew he wouldn’t last. He pinched her clit, let it go, pinched it again, and fucked her with slow, steady strokes. She screamed into the cushion, “Gio. Gio. Gio,” and that was it. He leaned over her back and pushed his face into the hair at her neck as his balls pulled up into his body and he came like a fucking bullet train.

  When he stopped panting in her ear, he lifted himself off her and pulled out slowly. She righted herself and turned, half sitting on the arm of the couch as she pushed her hair out of her flushed face.

  “Tomorrow, I’m going to introduce you to another guy I met here.”

  He busted out laughing.

  Mr. and Mrs. B’s house

  Fiddler’s Rest

  Natalia

  “Can I help you with anything, Mrs. B?”

  “No, dear. I’ve got it well in hand.”

  Natalia nodded and went into the family room where Ethan, Mr. B, and Gio were watching the BoSox play the San Francisco Giants. Bottom of the sixth, tie game. She sat next to Gio on the couch, but kept it PG. A few minutes later Mrs. B called them into dinner.

  Ethan seemed grateful they were there. All the attention and questions were off him. Mrs. B started on Gio before he finished his salad.

  “So how did you and Mirabelle meet?”

  Gio smiled. “Divine intervention.”

  “Oh, in church?”

  Natalia bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

  “No, ma’am. Through The Letter Club.”

  “Pardon me?”

  Natalia jumped in so her man could eat. Poor guy was always starving. “The Letter Club is similar to the old pen pal concept, except you’re anonymous. This way there’s no judging or pressure. You get to meet different kinds of people, and you can choose who you answer. Everything goes through the Club. You mail your letter to them and they mail it to the intended recipient. Every member has a number. That’s how the right letter goes to the correct person.”

  “What a clever idea.” Mrs. B looked intrigued. “Anyone can do it?”

  “Sure,” Natalia replied. “I joined to make friends because I was in a new place.”

  Gio patted his mouth with his napkin. “I joined because I don’t do social media. Too much fake stuff out there. I wanted to meet people who wanted to take the time to get to know someone in a retro kind of way.”

  “How do you know they’re not BS-ing you like they do on social media?” Ethan asked.

  Mrs. B tsked. “Not everyone is a terrorist.”

  Gio stuffed a roll in his face to keep from laughing.

  “Actually,” Natalia answered Ethan, “you don’t. I’ve gotten some really weird letters, and some that seemed on the level, but I didn’t think we’d click. I had no idea if Gio was telling the truth, but as I got to know him, I figured either he was who he seemed to be, or he was a great liar. No different than meeting someone at a club or a party.”

  “True,” Ethan said.

  “How long before you met in person?” Mrs. B asked.

  “Nearly six months,” Natalia replied.

  “Well.” Mrs. B was getting ready to make a pronouncement, and everyone at the table knew her well enough to let her talk. Heads down, they all kept right on eating. Twenty minutes later, she wrapped up with, “…and that’s why courting should come back in style.”

  Gio leaned back and patted his stomach. “My girl told me you are a great cook, Mrs. B. She didn’t exaggerate.”

  Mrs. B flushed and waved her hand in front of her face. “Why thank you, Gio. I hope you have room for dessert.”

  “After a few minutes, I think I could squeeze in a slice of something.”

  Mrs. B patted the table with both hands. “I’ll clear the dishes and we’ll get coffee and cake on the table in a little while.”

  When Natalia, Gio, and Ethan got up to help, Mrs. B shooed them into the family room, and that’s when Natalia saw her chance. “Mrs. B. Would you mind if I show Gio the greenhouse?”

  “Go ahead, dear. A little walk will help move things around for dessert.”

  Before Ethan put his ass in one of the easy chairs, Natalia leaned in and said, “Don’t freak when you hear what I tell your mother next, but I need you to come with us.”

  Ethan’s sharp eyes held hers, and then he nodded.

  “Mrs. B, I’m stealing Ethan. I’m going to try to convince him to meet a girlfriend of mine.”

  The woman came into the family room in a flash and pointed to Ethan with a dishtowel in her outstretched hand. “You go with her and listen to what she has to say.”

  Ethan played his part. “Okay, Mom.”

  The three of them left through the side door. Natalia waited until they were inside the greenhouse before she began speaking. She leaned against Mrs. B’s long wooden potting table, Gio right beside her, and Ethan stood opposite them, arms crossed over his chest, his legs about two feet apart.

  “My real name is Natalia Surkis.” Ethan blinked. Not even an eye squint. Yep. She picked the right guy. “My mother, Inna, escaped a sex trafficker in the Ukraine. I was born here, but she remained undocumented until she married my stepfather, a US citizen, when I was nine. He was a horrible man who abused her and stole money from the trucking company he worked for. He was sent to prison where he was killed. His name was Vasyl Demko. His father, Ivan Demko, is a gangster in Providence, Rhode Island, where I lived until about a year ago when he threatened me after my mother died. I came here using a fake identity to hide from him. Ivan Demko and everyone who works for him are undocumented.”

  Ethan looked at his wicked cool cowboy boots for a few beats. “Okay. Let’s go through this again. You answer all my questions. Truthfully. Got it?”

  “Yep.”

  Ethan pulled out his phone and turned on the recorder.

  Mrs. B came to get them forty-five minutes later. “Coffee’s hot and dessert is on the table.”

  “We’ll be there in two minutes, Mom.”

  She smiled, probably thinking Natalia had made headway with Ethan. Mrs. B was a woman on a mission. “Okay. Don’t lollygag.” Off she went, looking as happy as a future mother of
the groom.

  “Like I said, I’m going to write this up and send it to you for your signature as an official witness statement. If there needs to be any changes, you call me and let me know and we’ll make the corrections. Once the ball gets rolling, you’re going to have a contact at the FBI. I don’t know who that will be, but I’m out of it. Not my area, and even if it was, there’d be a conflict of interest given your relationship with my family.”

  “I understand.”

  Ethan looked at Gio and spoke to him for the first time since they’d come into the greenhouse. “You’re his son.”

  Gio nodded.

  “He know?”

  “If he does, it’s not from me.”

  “He going to be a problem?”

  “No.”

  “You sure about that? She’s yours.”

  “He’s been known to let law enforcement handle things.”

  “I heard the locals took care of your sister’s matter. Gotta say, we were surprised.”

  Gio grinned. “He likes to do that.”

  Ethan nodded and gave Gio a half smile. “I had a feeling.”

  They left the greenhouse and had three-layer carrot cake with whipped vanilla frosting for dessert. There were no leftovers to take home.

  Later, lying in bed, Natalia resting on her elbow on Gio’s chest, she said, “Would you have preferred to let your father handle this?” He shook his head. “When you were dealing with Sofia and Amy, you said your grandmother would have told you to go to your father.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t spend a lot of time with her, but my impression, she wouldn’t care for what your father does.”

  “Ah, well, she’s old school.”

  “That means the man rules.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Hardly. The woman rules the house, the kids, and controls the ebb and flow of the family. She also rules her husband. But it’s behind closed doors. She doesn’t speak against him in front of the family, and never in public. They can squabble. I’ve heard all sorts of great stories about how my nonna and nonno used to yell at each other in the market. But that was their form of banter. An acceptable way to communicate and blow off steam. But everyone knew it came from a place of love.”

  “I can see that.”

  “As for her daughter, my mom, this is the way it goes. If a girl or woman falls for a guy that her family knows is bad, they try to talk her out of it.”

  “Did your grandparents try to talk your mother out of marrying your father?”

  “I have no idea. If had to guess, no. By the time he met her, he’d had enough legitimate businesses that they would have thought he was respectable. As for other stuff, I can’t believe they liked it, but it was a familiar way of life to them.”

  “They worked so hard in that market. I’d think it would have rubbed them wrong.”

  “Maybe it did, but they never said anything in front of me. She’s lived with us for years, and I’ve seen the way she is with my father. She respects him and loves how he treats her daughter and grandchildren. Like I said, old school. The thinking is if the girl marries a guy they didn’t want her to, once the deed is done, they don’t talk against him out of respect for her and the marriage. If he hurts her, he’s taught a lesson.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It’s very eye for an eye. If the husband hit her, her brothers, or if she doesn’t have any, cousins or uncles, beat the shit out of him. No one says anything more about it. Life goes on. Lesson learned. If he hurts her again.” He shrugged. “Depending on the family, the guy disappears, or she’s taken to a place he can’t find her.”

  “You mean years ago.”

  “Then. And now.”

  “Holy shit. That’s draconian.”

  He raised a brow. “Says the woman who sent a man to prison for something he didn’t do.”

  “Well, he deserved it for what he did do.”

  “Because he did it to your mother.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I get it, and it’s the way I was raised. It’s sangue. Blood. Famiglia.”

  “Is it what you’d do?”

  “I prefer to let the system do its thing. That fuck who hit my sister and shot Theresa is in prison and breathing because my father knew too many eyes were watching what he would do. Believe me, no one cried over that prick. My guess, he’s not real popular where he’s living now.”

  “But.”

  “But. If someone hurt our daughter the way Sofia was hurt, I can’t guarantee I’ll be rational.” She began to twist her fingers. “Aw, baby.” He pulled her up until she was totally on top of him and kissed her long and sweet.

  “Girls’ club violation. You make me melt.”

  “Man card revocation. You own my heart.”

  Ten weeks later

  Gusk’s Hardware Store

  Fiddler’s Rest

  Gio

  He had one week before he had to go back to Brown, and Gio had moved way past antsy to full-blown anxious. Agent Templeton hadn’t called in twelve days, and Gio would not leave unless he knew Natalia was safe. He was beginning to think of calling his father. How’s that for a one-eighty.

  Initially, everything had gone smoothly. Natalia had signed the witness statement and two days later Agent Templeton had contacted them. They’d met her in the Boise FBI office, and she explained the protocol going forward. Once a week she called to give them vague progress updates, mostly indicating things were moving in the right direction. Now, radio silence, and Gio was about to jump out of his skin. He’d argued that they should call her to find out what was wrong, but Natalia had said the FBI would call when they had something to tell them. How she’d remained so calm escaped him.

  Meanwhile, he’d been in studying mode. He’d applied for and gotten approval to double up on his last two weeks’ worth of assignments, and the college had allowed him to take the finals at Brown under the watchful eye of a proctor. If he was leaving on time, next Wednesday, tonight was his last class. He’d turned in all his Spanish assignments last night, and tonight he had to hand over everything to his bio professor.

  He checked his phone. Four p.m. Fuck.

  Stan came up the aisle and said, “Morton’s coming to pick up that paint at five.”

  “Okay. I’ll make sure everything is ready for him.”

  “See ya Monday.” Stan walked out the front door as Rita walked in.

  Waddled was more accurate. Rita had entered her last trimester, and she was huge. After the fourth of July – the town parade was like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting – Rita’s appetite kicked in and she became a human vacuum. She must have put on thirty pounds in the past few weeks.

  She lowered herself to the bench seat and Eddie came around from behind the cash register and sat next to her. Natalia had been right about him. Nicest guy in the world.

  “Can I say hello?” Eddie asked.

  Rita grabbed his hand and put it on top of her belly.

  “Wow. Big kick.”

  “I swear,” she looked down at her beach ball stomach, “this kid’s a gymnast. Somersaults all night and high kicks all day.”

  Eddie smiled. “The doctor said activity is a sign of good health.”

  “Shit. I’m eating enough. The kid should be healthy as a horse.”

  Gio chuckled. “When’s your next appointment?”

  “Tomorrow. The dads are picking me up at ten.”

  Gio’s phone went off, and he nearly shouted, “Finally.” Instead he said, “I gotta take this,” and went to find Natalia.

  “Hello,” he sort of whispered. “Can you wait a moment?”

  “Sure, Gio. I’ll wait.”

  Natalia was in the storeroom doing inventory. He pointed to the phone, and they went into the breakroom and locked the door.

  “Okay. Sorry about that.”

  “It’s fine. Hello, Natalia.”

  “Hi, Agent Templeton. Any news?”

  “Today at oh-nine hundred all seven Demko’s Dry Cleaner
s were raided along with Ivan Demko’s storage facilities, his home, and the homes of ten of his known associates. Twenty-eight individuals were taken into custody, and a significant amount of property was seized including guns, cash, and various electronics. All twenty-eight individuals are scheduled for arraignment tomorrow morning at the District Court in Providence. The AUSA has filed a lengthy indictment against Mr. Demko and his associates, including RICO violations. The AUSA will be asking that Mr. Demko be remanded without bail, which is the case for five members of his inner circle. I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know the status of the arraignments.”

  Natalia plopped down in a chair. “Wow. That was fast.”

  Agent Templeton cleared her throat. “In truth, not really. We’ve had an active, ongoing investigation of his operations for quite some time. It wasn’t until you proffered your witness statement providing previously unknown information that things began to move quickly.”

  Natalia gave Gio big eyes. “Will I have to testify?”

  “Unknown at this time. I’ll keep you updated on whether he and his associates will be prosecuted or deported.”

  “Okay. I guess we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “We shall. Until then.”

  The call disconnected.

  Natalia jumped up, walked around the table twice. Put her hands on her hips, shook her head, leaned against the sink, came around the table, walked right up to him, and put her head against his chest.

  “Holy shit,” she muttered.

  “Fuckin’ A,” he concurred.

  Later, after class, when they were on the couch, in what was becoming their favorite position to talk – his hand wrapped around her hair while her chin rested on her forearm, which was laid across his chest – he said, “We can live in apartment off campus, or store the furniture, except the bed. We’ll put it in your room, which will be next to the quad.”

  “I don’t want to take you away from your friends.”

  He chuckled. “You or them is not even a choice.”

  “If we can really swing a room next to the quad, or even on the same floor, then it’s not a me or them. You can have both.”