Over the next few days I noticed the same dark sedan with tinted windows following me. I had become so afraid, I turned to sleeping pills to get a few hours of rest on the days I had to work.
On Friday, my first free day of the week, I spent my time watching the black sedan parked across the street from my apartment building. At around 5 P.M., it drove off and didn’t return. I was finally able to breathe easily.
In the evening, my friend called and asked me out. She said she had been invited to another friend’s birthday party and needed a plus one. I tried to decline but ended up giving into her insistence again.
I dressed up, put some makeup on so I would look decent enough and took a deep breath before venturing outside. It felt like I was doing something I shouldn't.
Once on the sidewalk, I looked both ways to make sure no one was watching me. I didn't see anything suspicious so I turned North and headed towards my meeting place.
I haven't even gotten to the end of the block before I saw the black sedan again. I felt my knees go weak, my limbs growing cold and heavy with fear. At first, I was unable to move but soon I found myself in full sprint back to my apartment building.
I almost sprained my ankle a couple of times, trying to skip several steps at a time in my race to safety. I locked my door and considered blocking the entrance with the couch, to make sure the door couldn't be broken from the outside but decided against it because it turned out to be too heavy. When my friend called to ask about my whereabouts, I had to lie about having gotten some terrible cramps to get out of joining her that night.
The incident had scared me so badly, I avoided going out the entire next week unless it was absolutely necessary. I had only left the house to get to work and shopped online for groceries.
The following Friday, my friend called again, with an invitation to the opening of a new club she wanted to see. It was supposed to be a venue where indie bands would play monthly.
I lied about having caught a cold but she didn't believe me. With the promise to never forgive me, she hang up. I felt both bad about upsetting my friend and guilty for the fact that I was hiding my situation from her.
Tomorrow it was Saturday again, my usual day off, so I skipped the sleeping pills. I decided to relax my mind with some bad TV.
I settled on my old couch and started flipping through channels. There was nothing worth watching, I needed something else to occupy my mind. “Maybe I should eat something,” I thought and rose.
Mac and cheese sounded just perfect; I didn't feel like making anything fancy. Just as I checked how the casserole was coming along, someone rang my doorbell.
“Who could it be?” I wondered. Through the peephole I could only see a figure wearing a dark suit, but it was enough to send me in full panic mode.
“I know you’re home, Miss Knight,” the figure spoke and I thought I recognized Aldo’s voice. He knew my name? “Come on, open the door.”
“What do you want?” I dared to ask. I didn’t tell anyone about your business. And I have no intention of doing it.”
“I know. Please, open the door.”
“Or what? Isn’t it enough I live in terror every day? Now you want to invade my home too?”
I felt helpless because I knew I will have to let him inside eventually. He had the power and I was just another victim to frighten.
“I’m sorry for that. If you’d open the door I would like to apologize properly.”
What?
“What do you really want?”
“I told you. I want to apologize.”
I didn’t know what to do and he seemed to sense my indecision. I saw him step back and raise his hand. “Oh, God, he’s gonna shoot me,” I thought before seeing he was showing me an ornate bottle of something.
“See?” he asked and I felt stupid.
I unlocked the door and noticed my fingers were shaking uncontrollably. What if I was wrong?
He paused a second before stepping inside, leaving a discrete trial of musky cologne behind. I followed him into the tiny living room and immediately felt embarrassed for the smell of my humble mac and cheese that permeated the air.
“Something smells delicious,” he remarked and started for the kitchen. I was stunned by his boldness. “Oh, you’re not, by any chance, making mac and cheese, are you?”
I nodded.
“I love comfort food.”
Should I invite him to stay? I cleared my throat.
“Would you like some?”
“I couldn’t impose.”
“You wouldn’t,” I insisted, unsure of why there were sounds coming out of my mouth when I was sure I had just told my brain to stop talking.
“Are you sure? Because I would love to have some of your deliciously smelling macaroni.” He even winked.
I smiled weakly, cursing to myself. He stepped closer to me, a bit too close, and raised the bottle.
“Where should I put this?”
His scent went straight to my head and I struggled to reply. “Umm, the counter is fine. Would you... would you like a glass?”
He chuckled. “Allow me.”
He seemed to be such a gentleman for a mobster. I walked across the kitchen and took out two stem glasses. He had already magically found a bottle opener and was now ready to serve what looked like Italian wine.
I watched him gracefully fill the glasses, unable to take my eyes off his slender fingers. I swallowed hard and forced myself to shift focus towards the oven. Dinner was ready.
“You can wait in the living room. It won’t be a minute,” I suggested.
“I could help, if you’d like.”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out his angle. What was he getting at?
“Pass me the plates, then.”
He did and I filled them with generous portions of mac and cheese. We set the table together and he brought the glasses to the living room as I was making sure nothing was out of order. “God, I hope he won’t see my bedroom tonight,” I thought, then mentally slapped myself. Why would he see my bedroom?
We ate in silence, mainly because he watched me with a look in his eyes that sent ripples through my body, making me unable to speak.
I was grateful when the meal was over. I could, at least, concentrate on doing something instead of bearing his gaze.
I proceeded to gather the plates and cutlery, still feeling his eyes on me. It made me so uncomfortable, I had to down my wine in one gulp. I chose to ignore the shame that tried to creep up on me, I had enough on my plate as it was.
“Are you alright?” He startled me when he spoke. I didn’t realize he had gotten so close to me and I dropped the forks. Instinctively, I bent to pick them up, move that sent my ass against his crotch.
The touch shocked me and I tried to stand. I ended up hitting my head on the edge of the table and losing my balance. He caught me in time and I found myself in his arms, staring at his defined lips.
When he parted them lustfully, I knew what was to come but I couldn’t pull back. He kissed me and I let him. I savored him for as long as he let me, before he ended the moment.
He let go of me and I stepped back, realizing what had just happened.
“Oh, My God,” I whispered, covering my mouth; his taste still lingered on my lips.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking away. “I shouldn’t have…”
My body wanted him like I had never wanted anyone before and it was a struggle for me not to wrap my arms around him. He looked up to check if I was alright and saw what my eyes were saying. He responded to my unspoken invitation, I didn’t even have time to think before he grabbed me and taking possession of my mouth once again.
I melted in his arms, responding to his every touch and soon I knew I had to have him.
We stumbled towards my bedroom and I fell onto the bed. He let me go and hurried to get rid of his jacket and shirt, throwing them on top of the other clothes that were already scattered on the floor. I started to pull my tank top off, but he took over.
He kissed every inch of my skin as he undressed me and I felt the need growing inside me. By the time he got to my leggings, I wanted him with all my being.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” I murmured and went for his belt.
“God, I want you. I. Want. You, Lydia,” he said, watching me as I trailed my fingers over his perfect skin. I looked up from where I was sitting. He planted a kiss on my lips before pulling me further onto the bed.
He laid on top of me, grinding his erection between my legs.
“God, you’re so wet,” he groaned in my ear and I shivered.
I trailed my hands up his back, to his thick hair, and lifted my hips, ready for him. He shared my hunger, he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I felt his hand go between us to adjust his cock at my entrance and gasped when he pushed inside.
“Fuck…” was all he could manage as he started moving. My body was already quivering in anticipation.
“Oh, Aldo,” I whispered and he kissed my lips like he wanted to drink my desire, to share into my pleasure.
His muscles contracted in sync with my body, as he fucked me slowly, making sure I got every last inch of him. I moved my hips against his, I wanted more.
And he gave me more. He moved faster, hitting my core in ways that set fireworks alight and I soon found myself on the brink of cumming.
“Oh, God, yes!” I signaled my climax; he thrusted deeper, watching my face as I neared blissful release. I had never orgasmed so fast before.
“Cum for me, baby,” he demanded and I bit my lip to suppress a scream.
He caressed my body with the tips of his fingers as I stiffened underneath him, my orgasm coming in powerful waves over me.
I felt him thrust one more time, hard, before he came too, his body covering mine, his lips whispering mingled words of lust into my ear.
*****
The next few weeks of my life had passed like a dream. I couldn’t believe the happiness I had been gifted with.
Aldo had visited me as often as his obligations had allowed and we had spent many a night of passion.
He liked to watch me cook, his eyes lighting up whenever I asked him to taste the food, like wanted to be involved in every small thing I did. I had grown accustomed to finding him home on some nights, either watching TV or napping like a child.
I loved the way we had become a couple. Neither of us had ever said anything about our future, we didn’t need to. It was all there, in the way we embraced and kissed, in the way he made me his, in the way we shared our moments of laughter, a stolen glance or the pleasure of just being together.
It felt right.
I did, however, noticed something was tainting his joy. His smile had become smaller, his eyes had lost some of their spark and he suddenly needed to hold me longer in his arms.
One night, after we had dinner, I wrapped my arms around him as he stood in front of the window, and asked:
“What is it, baby?”
“What is what?”
“You seem upset lately. Did something happen?”
He turned to me, a smile on his face that I could see he faked.
“No, my love. Everything is in order. I love you, that’s all.”
“You what?” I asked and pulled away.
What he had just said?
He seemed to be taken aback by my reaction. I looked into his eyes to make sure he told the truth.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just sprung it on you like that,” he retracted.
“No,” I wouldn’t have it. “You sprung it just the right way. I just never thought you felt this way too.”
“Too?”
I nodded, tears prickling my eyes. “What?” he pressed, a grin starting to form on his lips.
“I love you too,” I mumbled, too emotional to speak clearly.
“Oh, my love.” He lifted me in his arms and pinned me against the wall. “I love you so much. I don’t deserve you, but I can’t help it. I just love you.”
“What do you mean you don’t deserve me?”
My words seemed to have brought him to reality. He pulled back.
I understood it was a subject he wasn't comfortable disclosing yet. It hurt, but I wanted to give him the space he needed, I wanted him to trust me. When he tried to pull farther away, I held onto his arms and looked him in the eyes, trying to share the warmth I had to give.
“What does ‘Aldo’ mean?” I asked, changing the subject.
He looked surprised and grateful for my decision.
“It’s just a name. It comes from -”
“Aldobrandino,” I remembered.
“Yeah. It means ‘little old sword’. Do you know Italian?”
I giggled but his phone rang before I could answer.
“Pronto,” he said, frowning. “What is it, Matteo?”
I took a few steps back, looking for something to do so it wouldn’t seem like I was snooping.
“I can’t talk right now,” I heard him say between gritted teeth. “He what?”
His expression turned serious and I couldn't look away. Something wrong seemed to have happened.
“Cavolo!” he cursed, stealing a glance at me. I looked away. “Look, I can't talk right now. Tell The Spider we need his services again. I’ll call you.”
He hung up and I tried to look busy fumbling through a stack of old magazines.
“I’m sorry, love.”
“It’s no problem. You could’ve talked, I was just about to… make some coffee.” I didn't want him to put his business on hold, especially when it looked to be this important.
“No, it’s alright. I’m sorry you had to hear that… sort of conversation.”
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t mean it like you were listening in. It’s just not something everyone can stomach.”
“Baby, I grew up in the hood. You have no idea what I can stomach,” I replied, my fists defensively balled to my sides.
His eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were a tough girl.”
He seemed amused, that familiar glint of mischief back in his eyes. His expression made me laugh.
“You never assumed?”
“What? That because you’re black, you had to have lived in the hood?”
When he put it like that, it did sound silly. I looked down, embarrassed for misjudging him.
“I thought that, you know, with your… friends’ predisposition to…” I tried to explain myself.
“You mean their racism?”
I nodded.
“Would I have loved you this much if I was a racist, my love?”
Something in his tone made me look at him. That sadness was back.
“What is it?” I asked again.
He tried to look away but I caught his face between my palms and forced his eyes back to me.
“Tell me, baby,” I encouraged him.
“It’s nothing that you should concern yourself with,” he attempted to elude the question.
“If it makes you feel like this, it concerns me very much. Please, let me in, baby.”
I could see the struggle in his head. He seemed torn between keeping some bad news from me or lifting a weight off his chest. I chose for him:
“Tell me. You have to tell me if you say you love me.”
He grabbed my wrists and freed his face. “You won't like it, my love.”
“You don’t either. Why should I?”
He kissed me before confessing what I had already known.
“We cannot be seen together, my love.”
I nodded. “I knew as much.”
“You did?”
“Like I said, I have seen your friends’ attitude towards me. Is that what was bothering you?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “But it’s not all.”
“Oh?” I took his hand and pulled him towards the couch. “Come, sit here. Let’s talk about it.”
He laid on his back, his head on my lap. I massaged his head as
he spoke.
“My mother, she’s worse than all of them. I can deal with them, I’m their boss, but Mamma, she’s something else entirely.”
I didn’t say anything, leaving him space to think, to find his words.
Untamed Abduction: Alien Romance Collection Page 33