Suddenly, Marco lifted me from him and all but carried me to the sofa, setting me down as he stood and finished undressing. He peeled his shirt from his arms after pulling his tie from his neck. Then he removed his undershirt, his shoes, socks and trousers. Under his briefs, his thick manhood strained and much to my delight he removed those and set it free. Marco was amazing, muscular, defined and athletic. The beautiful Cuban man with the dark, penetrating eyes loomed over me as I reclined. We both felt the desperation, saw it the other’s eyes and we gave in to our yearning.
Marco’s arms supported his torso as his hardness pressed against my velvet folds. He stared into my eyes as I reached down, guiding Marco into me. He pushed, parting my petals and with only the faintest resistance his shaft plunged into me and filled me with its girth. I moaned as Marco began to thrust. My legs and arms wrapped about Marco, pulling him to me. His hard body pressed against my soft figure, as he made love to me. He kissed and nuzzled my neck as we rocked together as one, our passion taking control.
Suddenly, I felt a surge of pleasure well up and I climaxed. Marco lifted his head and watched as I writhed beneath him. I fought the urge but it was too strong. I screamed out as Marco drove into me. He brought me to several more wondrous orgasms, each more intense and more satisfying than the last and then he erupted. He attempted to pull from me but I was having none of it. I pulled him in deep with my legs as Marco filled me with his love. After a moment, he shuddered and sighed.
“You are exactly the woman I hoped when I met you, Nancy. So beautiful and sensual. In your presence, I feel like a man,” he told me. I giggled, still high from our lovemaking.
“You make me feel beautiful and sexy, Marco,” I replied echoing his compliment. I pulled him on top of me and we kissed. He remained there within me, his shaft still hard and beating along with his heart. “Can you do that again?” I asked playfully. Marco raised an eyebrow and smiled a wicked little grin.
“For you, anything,” he replied and winked at me. I giggled as he began to thrust again but soon my laughter turned to cries of ecstasy as we made love long into the night.
~~~
~5~
I was left spent and tingly, my head spinning. After we indulged our desires, Marco and I relaxed on the sofa. Marco sat sideways leaning against the corner as I reclined between his legs against his chest. We sipped rum as Marco puffed his cigar and we talked. We spoke of nothing of import, avoiding my situation, politics and such in favor of lighter topics. I learned about Marco’s life in Havana and I painted a clearer picture of my youth in America.
Marco grew up in a family that owned his cigar factory and the associated tobacco fields. They were wealthy by anyone’s standards but they worked hard to maintain that and shared their good fortune freely. With Cuba’s ever changing political landscape, life was hard when Marco was a boy but improving for many. And so Marco worked in his family’s fields and in their factory as a boy, learning the tobacco trade and the art of cigar production. As a teenager he learned the business side of his family’s art and when he demonstrated a particularly keen understanding, his father put him in charge.
Since then, Fernandez Cigars had become one of Cuba’s most respected brands and Marco had opened up new markets around the world. Marco lived and breathed his family’s business and his hard work and business sense had allowed his parents to retire in relative luxury. Now, they lived in America. His single-minded determination left little time for other pursuits but Marco loved his business and had no regrets. On the other hand, my young life was much less interesting.
I didn’t grow up poor but we weren’t wealthy either. After World War II, my father returned home from duty aboard a ship in the Pacific to his wife and young daughter and found work in his chosen profession, teaching. We made due. Like my mother, I turned from a thin little girl into a rather plump young woman. I wanted to look more like the actresses in the movies I saw at the theater, but it wasn’t in my character. I was round and full-bodied and there was little I could do to change that.
“I don’t mind your figure,” Marco told me after I told him about my desire to look like a movie star.
“Yes, I’ve learned that,” I said playfully.
“I find myself drawn to women like you. I find a woman such as you so much more interesting,” Marco told me.
“I’m glad you do,” I replied and turned my head to kiss Marco. The faint taste of rum and tobacco on his lips was somehow intoxicating.
“I do not want you working in that club any longer, Nancy,” Marco said suddenly. I shifted between his legs to regard him.
“I don’t have a choice, Marco,” I said. I believed he understood the situation, at least enough to know what the consequences might be, but maybe I hadn’t made myself clear.
“There is always a choice and I have just made it. You will not work there again and I will ensure that you will be safe,” Marco assured me without giving me any details.
“Marco, I owe Tony almost two thousand dollars. He won’t let me go without settling the debt,” I reminded Marco.
“We will see, Nancy, we will see,” was all Marco said. I sighed, afraid Marco didn’t know what he was getting into but I had the feeling he could still do what he said. Marco told me the night we first met that he would move heaven and earth to possess what he wanted. I was sure now that he wanted me and I had no doubt that he would indeed do whatever it took to have me. I just didn’t know how.
“I trust you. I’m just afraid,” I said. Marco stroked my face, his cigar wedged between his teeth.
“Come to my bed and tomorrow I will show you,” Marco offered.
“All right. I can do that,” I said letting the matter drop. Marco pulled the cigar from his teeth and he kissed me. We retired to his bedroom and we laid together with Marco’s arm draped over me but I was too worried to fall asleep right away. I hoped Marco knew what he was doing. I was excited too. I couldn’t deny that the prospect of being free of Tony and my debt was appealing. I just hoped I wasn’t getting my hopes up only have them dashed. I hoped that Marco knew what he was doing. I couldn’t live with myself if he was hurt, or worse, acting on my behalf.
~~~
The following morning, Marco took me home to dress and then we went to breakfast, coffee with milk and Cuban bread toasted and buttered. Marco was in a white seersucker suit and a white fedora. I was in a plain dress and short heels. I resisted the urge to pry from Marco his intent but after we ate, I couldn’t take it any longer. “Marco, what do you plan to do?” I asked him.
“Speak with a business associate,” was all he said but then added, “Trust me.” I accepted the answer though I didn’t like it. Soon, however, we pulled up to the Hotel Nacional and a valet greeted us at the curb.
“Buenos dias, Señor Fernandez,” the valet greeted us, then added, “Señorita,” and tipped his cap. Marco handed the young man his keys and then shook the valet’s hand leaving him with several pesos. Marco offered me his arm and we walked towards the front door where the doorman greeted him by name too. Marco carried a cigar box under his arm that he had brought with him. I looked up at Marco as we were ushered inside the grand hotel by the cheerful doorman and he smiled back amused by my reaction as he removed his hat. I suppose Marco was well known in Havana since cigars were such a big part of the culture.
We approached the concierge desk where an older man, an American greeted us. “Ah, Señor Fernandez. What brings you to the National Hotel today?” he asked us calling the hotel by the name Americans knew it.
“Is Mr. Lansky in?” Marco asked. I looked at Marco, my eyes wide. Did he mean Meyer Lanksy, Lucky Luciano’s right hand man, the head of the American mob in Cuba? Marco only smiled with a hint of mischief on his face as I stared at him in disbelief.
“Let me see if he is available, Señor Fernandez. And guest?” The concierge replied. He had an unmistakable accent, just like Tony’s. This man was from New Jersey or New York as well.
“Ye
s, this is Miss Cartwright,” Marco told him and the concierge turned to go. His jacket opened as he did and I clearly saw the shoulder holster and gun he wore. Marco was indeed referring to Meyer Lansky.
“Marco, do you know who you’re meeting? Do you know who he is?” I asked quietly.
“Of course. Havana is my home. I am a businessman,” he told me as if meeting with the mobster was simply a matter of course.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” I said frustrated by Marco’s seeming lack of concern.
“Trust me, Nancy,” he told me yet again. I took a deep breath as the concierge returned.
“Mr. Lansky will see you, Señor Fernandez. He’s in his office,” the man told us.
“Gracias,” Marco replied and led me to the hotel’s elevators. The elevator man greeted Marco by name also. He was another mobster, in a pinstriped suit with a crooked nose and no neck.
“Thirteenth floor, por favor,” Marco asked. Like most hotels, there was no actual thirteenth floor. Instead the man pushed an unmarked button. It must’ve been some kind of code. We rode silently up to the penthouse were the elevator operator opened the doors to let us out. Marco nodded as we walked past and the man nodded in return. The room we entered was lavish with large windows overlooking the city, the sea and Morro Castle, the old fortress across the harbor. The furnishings were all European, the walls covered in rich wood paneling.
“Señor Fernandez,” a man greeted us, another mobster in a dark suit but this one held a tommy gun with a big, round magazine.
“Mel, nice to see you. I’m here to speak with Mr. Lansky,” Marco replied.
“Yeah sure. Who’s the dame?” Mel asked but not out of curiosity. He was doing his job, assuring Mr. Lansky was protected.
“Miss Cartwright, she is with me,” Marco replied. Mel looked me up and down and then moved towards Marco.
“Sorry, I gotta check,” Mel said.
“I understand,” Marco replied and Mel frisked Marco, even reaching into his jacket to feel for a weapon. Marco opened the cigar box too so the man, Mel, could see what was inside. I, however, could not see the contents.
“You’re good,” Mel said, satisfied that Marco wasn’t carrying a weapon. I guess he assumed I wasn’t either because he didn’t ask to search me, thankfully. I guess even mobsters, most of them anyway, had some measure of respect for women. He led us to double wooden doors and opened one of them. “Mr. Lansky, Marco Fernandez to see you,” Mel announced and then ushered us into an expansive office that overlooked the Caribbean. Behind a large oak desk sat a man who stood to greet us.
“Marco, I haven’t seen you in a while,” the man said. He was tall and thin, middle-aged with dark hair that he wore slicked back and a large nose.
“Meyer, so nice to see you. I trust you are well,” Marco replied. I was surprised Marco called him by his first name as if they were close friends.
“I might survive. You?” Meyer Lansky replied casually.
“Very good, thank you. I’d like you to meet Nancy. She is one of your employees, I believe,” Marco said as Meyer approached and shook Marco’s hand. Then Meyer took my hand and kissed it. I wasn’t sure what to think. This man seemed like a gentleman now but I knew what he really was.
“Nice to meet you,” he told me and then offered us chairs in front of his desk. That’s when I noticed the two large men framing the double doors we had just entered. I stared for a moment. “Don’t let the boys disturb you, Nancy. Their usually harmless,” Meyer told me. They didn’t look harmless, each carrying a machine gun like the man that had let us in.
“All right,” I said and sat down as Meyer took his seat behind the desk. I tried not to let my nerves show but I’m not sure I was successful.
“So, what brings the great Marco Fernandez to the Hotel Nacional?” Meyer asked.
“Nancy, as a matter of fact,” Marco replied.
“Is that so? She’s your girl?” Meyer asked as much as stated. I looked at Marco wondering what he might say.
“Yes, and she has a problem. She works for a man named Tony at the Aunt Nena Club. I understand she owes him a debt,” Marco explained.
“Is that so? What do you want me to do about that?” Meyer said looking at me and raising an eyebrow. I know what he was thinking. He assumed I was a prostitute.
“I am troubled by the working conditions she is subject to,” Marco told Meyer. They were speaking diplomatically, saying more than their words might indicate.
“That’s a rough line of work, Marco. Things happen,” Meyer told him.
“I can assure you, Nancy is not engaged in that line of work. That is the problem. This Tony has given her...an ultimatum. Nancy’s sensibilities will not allow her to do what he demands. I fear he might harm her,” Marco said. He seemed to abandon the double speak. Meyer nodded knowingly.
“And you don’t want your girl, or rather her employment, to come to bad end. I can understand and I can appreciate your concerns. Let me get Tony in here and we can see if we can’t work something out,” Meyer said and nodded at the men flanking the doors. One left, to go fetch Tony I assumed. I didn’t want to see him even though Marco was here and I was sure he would protect me.
“Thank you, Meyer. That’s all I can ask. In the meantime, please accept this gift,” Marco offered and set the cigar box on the desk and slid it towards Meyer Lansky. The mobster pulled the box across the desk and left it sitting in front of himself.
“Thank you, my friend,” Meyer replied and opened the box. His eyes told me, though just barely, that the box held more than cigars. “My favorite. You are very generous, my friend,” Meyer told Marco. It was money, I was sure of it. What was Marco doing?
“The least I could do for an old friend and associate,” Marco said. Just then, Tony came into the room. The big guard took up his position next to the door again as Tony came to the side of the desk and then noticed me.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” he asked.
“Watch your mouth,” one of the big men by the door warned. Tony glared at him for a moment but he looked away as the guard stared back with hard eyes. Tony turned to his boss, Meyer Lansky.
“Sorry, Mr. Lansky,” Tony said with as much deference and respect as I’d ever seen him give anyone.
“I see you know my new friend, Nancy. This is Marco Fernandez, a business associate and friend as well,” Meyer told Tony. Suddenly I was Meyer’s friend, no doubt because of Marco’s gift.
“Yeah, I’ve seen him around the club now and again. So what?” Tony asked, the respect he’d shown wearing thin now. Tony, however, held out a hand to shake Marco’s but Marco ignored the offer. Tony pulled his hand back, obviously angry at the snub.
“I understand Nancy works for you. That’s no longer the case,” Meyer told Tony. Tony’s face clouded with anger.
“The bitch owes me money. Two grand. That’s not peanuts, Meyer. She’s rude to my customers. She even slapped one the other night. We’ve got a contract and she’s not living up to it,” Tony explained hotly. I didn’t appreciate his version of things and I couldn’t help saying so.
“The customers you bring in are drunken louses. They stink and grope me like they own me. I’m not a whore and I never agreed to become one,” I shouted but Marco placed his hand on mine to keep me from saying more. I took comfort and strength from his gaze.
“You’re just lucky I only slapped you. I should have beaten you to a pulp, you ungrateful cow,” Tony said. Marco squeezed my hand but Meyer was fed up with Tony’s theatrics.
“You insult my friends? You hit her?” Meyer asked, calmly and without raising his voice but clearly insulted.
“I didn’t mean nothing by it. You know how it is, right? You gotta keep the girls in line,” Tony said, the anger drained from him. In fact, he was pleading suddenly.
“The Aunt Nena’s take has always fallen short. Now you mistreat my friends. I’ve lost confidence Tony,” Meyer said speaking diplomatically again but with a deep
er meaning that was evident to everyone in the room. I wasn’t Meyer’s so-called friend until just moments before but that didn’t seem to matter. Tony went white as Meyer glanced at the guards by the door.
“Mr. Lansky. I’ll do better. Look, I don’t need the two grand. I never meant to insult anyone. Please, Mr. Lansky,” Tony said, openly begging now. I wasn’t sure what was about to happen but I had a hard time feeling bad for Tony.
“Give Tony a tour of the harbor,” Meyer said. Tony turned as if he was going to run but the two men were already on him and he was no match for them. Tony struggled and shouted as they dragged him from the room. “Sorry about the trouble. My apologies, Nancy. I regret my associate’s actions,” Meyer told me.
“Thank you,” I said. Suddenly I realized what was going to happen to Tony. He wasn’t coming back. I think Meyer must have seen the horror on my face.
“Don’t blame yourself. Tony’s been digging a hole for himself for a long time,” he said trying to relieve me of the burden. It only helped marginally. Tony may have been a disappointing associate, as Meyer put it, but it was Marco’s gift that sealed his fate. I was sure of it. I only wondered if Marco knew what would happen when he decided to act on my behalf. Did Marco pay to have Tony killed?
“Meyer, Nancy and I appreciate your assistance in the matter. You are an honorable man and a good friend,” Marco said again speaking words that held a deeper meaning.
“Thank you for the generous gift. I hope I’ve been able to return the favor,” Meyer said and stood. Marco took my hand and we stood as well. Meyer came around his desk and shook Marco’s hand and then he took my shoulders and kissed my cheek.
“Gracias, mi amigo,” Marco said.
“Thank you, Mr. Lansky,” I added. Meyer frowned.
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