Three of Diamonds (Hamden Series)

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Three of Diamonds (Hamden Series) Page 4

by W. Ferraro


  “You don’t mind? I miss my princess. Who would have thought someone so small could have me wrapped around her little finger so easily. I’m starting to feel guilty for giving Kara so much of my attention and so little to Nancy.” He said as he stared off into space, no doubt to think of his girls at home.

  “Hey, Nancy knows she is your number one girl over the age of one month.” Lola said giving his husky arm a shove and a wink of her eye.

  Filling the last couple of orders to the regulars who closed the place down, she looked across the room, and was once again snared into a pair of ocean blue eyes.

  Oh God! He is still here!

  Suddenly, Lola could feel his eyes on her no matter what she busied herself with. She went to stack and fill the condiment containers with their freshly washed lids. She found herself looking up through her lashes and he was there, staring again.

  He just sat there, statue still, at one of the high pub tables, sipping at his scotch. Lola continued to busy herself with stocking and cleaning.

  “Hey Lola, how’d you do tonight with tips?” Cal asked in his signature raspy voice. He was a kind old gruff of a man that looked like any loveable grandfather. His preference for flannel-checkered shirts made the comparison even more truthful. The rainbow suspenders he fancied, never matched but was constant, just as his unshaven face and kind smile.

  Throwing the cloth she was using to wipe and polish the bar top, she put her hands on her ample hips and said sassily, “Oh I think I made a few bucks.”

  “I’m sure more than a few, Peaches!” Cal tapped his large fist on the bar and walked over to the table Lola had gone out of her way to avoid looking at for the last thirty minutes.

  After finishing wiping everything down, now that everyone had left, she took a quick peak toward the only two men left in the room. They were deep in conversation, so she once again took the offered opportunity and decided to call it a night.

  She was lost in the maze. The flourishing and impenetrable vines that separated one path from another were as high as she could see. The sky above was bright; she must be outside, but there were no sounds of nature or life. A thick curtain-like hazy fog would sweep in but then vanish as soon as it came. When the fog came on her, she couldn’t see the path directly in front of her. The hedge was the only thing that gave her any sort of direction when the heavy mist shrouded her. The green vines were lush with small delicate flowers of pink and purples hues, while others were wicker-like with viciously sharp thorns, eager for blood. The satin of her flowing gown became a victim of the thorns. There was no rhyme or reason to the changing of soft green to dehydrated brown, but it changed nevertheless.

  She started to run trying to find the exit, but the faster she ran, the path just stretched on that much further. She could hear his pursuit. He was getting closer. She began looking for a turn or bend that would help put additional distance between them. There was nothing. Only vines. Vines which thwarted her options of escape along with the comfort of safety. She kept going, even though every muscle in her body begged for mercy. She finally came to an opening that offered a choice of three paths. Looking over her shoulder, she took the one on the left and ran, for the first time, feeling that she would make her escape. Too soon, he sounded like he was right upon her. What did he want? She could hear him calling for her, chanting for her to seek him. She was over-come with fear. Fear to protect herself, fear to not become his prey, along with something else, some sort of feeling she was hesitant to explore. She shuffled along quietly hoping her bare feet would enhance her stealth. With the rapid beating of her heart, her eyes found it harder and harder to register any sound other than her own pulse hammering. There he was, just on the other side of the growth of greenery. She stayed as silent as she could, and hoped her thundering pulse would not give her location away.

  “I can smell you.” He exhaled in a husky sensual whisper.

  Oh No! She bit her lower lip to stop herself from crying out.

  “Your smell draws me to you. Do you know that? You could never elude me for long; your essence exposes you to my senses.” He breathed, but for as quiet as it was, he might as well have been using an amplifier. His voice echoed off every surface.

  He extended his arm through the herbaceous border, where the thorns should have shredded through his skin; instead, they pulled back, offering a curtain of opening. His large hand grabbed onto her hip in a grip that froze her movement. He stepped through the opening and aligned his front to her back. With her hair swept to the side it allowed easy access to her neck. He placed his lips at the sensitive base, and let his tongue lick her sweet skin bringing her palatable flavor into his mouth.

  The air seized in her lungs while her blood boiled from the sensation. His strong fingers pressed gently but firmly around her hips, halting any sort of flight. This close, her aroma swirled around them making a pocket of pure erogenous decadence. He finally could touch her skin. She was pliable and full, like a woman should be. Her body curved and dipped in all the places it should. The satin of her gown flowed over her physique; clinging to her beauty and showcasing a sensual alter for which he planned to worship.

  “Don’t be afraid. This is for you, all for you.” He whispered against her skin.

  He slowly let the strap of her gown fall down her shoulder, leaving skin exposed for his lips. When he thoroughly touched every inch of one side, he moved to the next. She felt her skin become alive from his touch and her body began to beg for more. Her pulse continued to beat erratically, but somehow, it changed reason from fear to desire without her even knowing it.

  He lifted her easily and laid her down on a cushion of soft earth with a natural pillow of green, giving her body plushness and comfort as she looked at her aggressor. His body was fashioned as if carved from stone. His long torso was colored golden, as if it had not spent much time in the darkness. The definition of his muscles from his shoulders, down over his pectorals and beyond, were as if his creator was exceptionally gifted with a chisel. The light spray of hair that covered his chest and created a trail of happiness down below his navel and lower, looked soft and inviting. As his waist dipped inward, the muscles of his abdominals constricted, showing that much more of hard sexy male.

  She closed her eyes enjoying the feel of his perusal. Soon his fingers began their participation in the preparation of their tryst.

  “You are a beautiful goddess who deserves a humble servant, such as myself, to tend to your every desire.”

  She yearned to touch him but each pass she made with her hands, when they should have connected with him, just waved through warm air.

  He started at her toes and began a journey of kisses and licks up over her arch, past her calf, onward to her knee, her lush thigh and beyond. As soon as he reached the glory land, he left her to give the other leg the same sensual torture as the first.

  Her body began to prep for its connection to his. Those hands, lips, and tongue, were weaving a web of arousal that she never wanted to break from. Her body responded with moisture and want.

  “Who are you?” She breathed. She watched as a smile as bright as the “big bang” overtook his face and he lowered those soft warm lips to her exposed hip again.

  “You know who I am. Your body knows my touch. Your body knows my scent. Your body knows what only I can make you feel.” He said with his erotic and musical voice. He slowly and sensually crawled up her body so that his lips were now only a scant few inches from hers.

  For the first time, she looked into his eyes. Eyes that she would know anywhere. Their clear blue coloring that marked the gateway to his soul. The light brown lashes that surrounded the blue gems were full and long.

  She looked at him at length, trying to find answers where only clear blue pools looked back at her. How could this be? He looked at her as if they have been lovers for ages. His knowledge of her body’s wants indicated a vast amount of study time. She tried to push at him, but once again, her hand only touched warm air.


  “Don’t push me away. You know you want me here as much as I want you here.” He whispered, as warmth spread from his lips to her neck as they made contact.

  Her fear began to rise, escalating to panic quickly.

  His attempts to soothe her only increased her need to escape.

  “I need to leave. I need to get out of here.” She said, more to herself than to him. She levered up into a sitting position, quickly getting to her feet and running in the small circular space. Muttering to herself to find her way out, the panic began to strangle her, causing even her cries of despair to become lodged in her throat. She fought for air. Running her hands along the hedge, the circle was complete, no breaks or openings could be found. Here, there were no thorns, only plush greens and beautiful flower petals. She collapsed to the ground as the panic began to swallow her. Her loud sob broke free. She felt the fog surround her and soon there was no longer beauty in this earthy paradise, but rather, coldness, loneliness, and thorns. The thorns returned, glowing with their sharp points, waiting for the blood and flesh they thought was their bounty.

  As she slowly began to rock herself, trying to find a way to keep the darkness at bay, she could see his form. He no longer was the God-like statue but just a dark silhouette. Still, as he stepped closer to cast his shadow over her small huddled form, she was, once again, consumed by warmth. No light emitted from him. There was no echo of the previous feelings of want or desire, just warmth to keep the coldness from overtaking her.

  “You are at the center, the only way out is if I choose to let you find the exit.” He said in a deeper voice that had lost all sensual and erotic rhythm. The voice that spoke now was detached, almost menacing.

  “Please, please, let me go. Just let me go. And forget.” The last part of her plea was the most demanding of all her words.

  “I don’t know if I can.” He spoke, once again in his sweet sensual voice.

  “Please, I beg of you, sir.” The God-like man was back as well as the beauty and warmth of their private paradise.

  He held out his hand and lifted her to her feet once again, wrapping his arms around her. Her fear diminished, almost as if her body was telling her it was safe from harm.

  He lowered his lips toward her wanting mouth. His warm sweet breath blew over her face, extinguishing the last of her unease. Right before his lips were to touch hers, he spoke, “Lola! Hey Lola, you awake?”

  Why did his voice change? Pulling back slightly to look at him, she watched as his smile remained and his gaze tried to absorb her entire being. Thinking she was once again losing her mind, she tried to relax.

  “Hey, you ok? Lola! Come on, I want to watch TV!” She knew that voice, but it was not the singsong one of the God, or even the dark demon’s, which followed her into the darkness.

  “What did you say?” she asked the beautiful man who held her. His beautiful face looked at her and she watched as his lips moved to the beat of someone else’s words.

  “Come on, I’m missing the beginning of my show. Wake up, Lola!”

  Lola’s eyes flew open. She was no longer surrounded by plants, healthy or dead. She looked around at the stark cream-colored walls, the mismatched second hand lamps and furnishings. She was home in her apartment. She gave her head a shake, thinking it would make her recollection of the dream make more sense. She then looked up to the brown eyes that she knew so well.

  “Finally, you are awake. Can I have some Captain Crunch?” asked by one of the only people Lola cared about.

  “Of course you can, I’ll get it for you.” As she pulled herself off her bed, otherwise known as the couch, she took the few steps that separated the small living room from the even smaller kitchen. She stretched trying to get her muscles to relax out of their current feeling. Lola went about making Boyd’s cereal, trying to wonder what she possibly ingested that could cause her to have such a strange dream. She brought the full bowl over to the couch, to the expectant hands. When she walked back to put the cereal box away, her memory sparked, causing her to remember what would create such a dream.

  Adonis! She saw Adonis, in the flesh, without his mask.

  “So what do you want to do today, Buddy-Boyd?” Lola asked the unmoving form from his spot on the end of the sofa.

  “I want to go to Aaron’s. David is going to be there today and he said he would help me shoot baskets.” Boyd answered not taking his eyes off the current commercial for the newest video game.

  Oh, here we go again. Every day it’s the same thing. Go to Aaron’s. Lola was grateful for the help the center gave them, especially Aimee. But, every time Boyd would go there, it was murder getting him to leave.

  When they first moved to Hamden, Boyd’s school gave them all the info about Aaron’s Place. A Center built and run for the sole purpose of supplying kids with all forms of special needs, a place to be comfortable being themselves. It was a full time housing facility with all sorts of activities, programs, and adventure trips. The founder of Aaron’s Place, a very rich widow by the name of Evelyn Cooper, formed the organization because her son, Aaron, did not feel comfortable enough anywhere to socialize as other kids do. Mrs. Cooper made it her charge to give as many children with special needs as she could, the same experiences other kids had. Her motto, “Kids need to be kids, regardless of their hurdles,” became and still is the mission statement of Aaron’s Place. When Mrs. Cooper’s son passed, she continued her work at Aaron’s Place, until her death. Her life’s work continues, as she left a very hefty trust fund behind that is used to fund Aaron’s Place.

  Whenever Lola can help there, she does, because Aaron’s Place has been a Godsend for her and Boyd. Aimee, who is the Director at Aaron’s place, even helped Lola get their apartment. Boyd has grown quite fond of Aimee. Having her live across the hall, she always volunteers to sit with Boyd if Lola is working as well as taking him back and forth to the center for his activities. Which has been a help considering the number of jobs she has had to pick up to keep them afloat.

  “Come on Lola, please. Sebastian and Trevor are going to be there too.” Boyd said as he pleaded with his sister.

  Knowing she was going to cave, Lola found herself agreeing but saying firmly, “But when I say it is time to leave, you will not give me an argument. Right?”

  “Me argue with you, never?” Boyd said as he ran to his room to grab his stuff. Lola found herself laughing at his obvious sarcasm.

  Lola was just about to head out the door when her phone rang. Picking it up she was not surprised to hear her boss, David, at the Hawthorne asking her to come in earlier than her already scheduled five pm start.

  “Yeah, fine, David, I will be there at four.” Lola hung up the phone, all of a sudden getting a bad feeling of impending doom. Quickly shaking the thought from her head, she turned towards Boyd, who was trying to open a peppermint candy wrapper.

  Lola knew that Boyd liked being independent but some things were just difficult for him, particularly, dexterity with small objects.

  “Do you need some help?” she asked.

  “No, I can do it!” Boyd snapped. She waited patiently. Forty-five seconds later, Boyd handed her the candy, still in its wrapper. She opened it, handed him the candy ushering them out of their apartment and toward her jeep.

  They reached Aaron’s place ten minutes later. Without even a word, as soon as the jeep was in park, Boyd had the door open and was running for the door. Lola followed behind at a slower pace. She walked in and headed directly for Aimee’s office saying hello to the kids and adults she passed along the way. When she entered the office, she found Aimee on the phone. She smiled when Lola entered and held up her finger indicating she would be off in a minute. Lola took a seat in the chair opposite Aimee’s desk and watched as Aimee wrote vigorously on a scrap piece of paper.

  Lola admired Aimee Amico. She was an old soul in a young body. Her small body was endowed with large boobs and a trunk with just the right amount of junk. She was the type that if she ever woke up after a t
hirty-six hour bender, she would still look fresh and beautiful. The most alluring of all her qualities was the size of her heart; an angel sent to Earth. She knew every one of the kids enrolled in all the programs. If anyone in the community, not just the center, was having a problem, Aimee was the first one there doing whatever she could to help. She organized soup kitchens as well as community green days, a truly angelic soul.

  Aimee hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair letting out a large breath. She looked across her desk at her friend. Aimee quickly and repeatedly bounced her legs as if sprinting in place. If anyone would appreciate the phone call she just got, Lola would.

  “Guess who that was?” Aimee said, feeling like she was going to bounce right out of her seat.

  Lola laughed, “I have no idea, but I bet you’re going to tell me.” Lola smiled, as she too leaned back in her less than comfortable chair and put her left ankle up on her right knee.

  “You are damn right I’m going to tell you. That was the CFO of DiLorenzo & Associates. They are a big architectural firm with a local office in Minkton, as well as in Burlington and Albany. Any who, I’ve been putting out feelers for some backing for a new aquatic building and horse stable. Well, he said they would be interested in not only designing the buildings, but perhaps giving a large donation. All we have to do is host a dinner, give a tour with a couple of their local design teams, and consider using their name on one of the buildings.” Aimee stood and twirled around in euphoric joy with a smile that Lola was sure would be permanently tattooed on her face. Once again, Aimee began aggressively running in place. As Lola watched her, she couldn’t help but smile and think of the song Maniac, from Flashdance.

  Rising from her seat, Lola embraced her friend to show both the joy she felt at the news and to stop Aimee from bouncing out of her skin. “That is fabulous! Truly, Aimee. Anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

 

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