Samuel didn’t answer. His mouth and body pounced on me, pushing me back onto the bed. He kissed me hard. I shut my eyes tightly, allowing the kiss to become all pure sensation inside. We began to kiss more and more, rolling around the bed as we did.
“Let me please you,” Samuel whispered into my ear. “I want to hear you come because of me.”
“Yes, and yes some more. But let me,” I reached for his pants. Samuel gripped onto my hand and stopped me.
“No, you tonight. I need to hear you. It does crazy things to me when I hear you come.”
I lifted my hand away as he requested, and put it instead into his thick black wavy hair, allowing him to do what he wanted to do. His hand slipped under my panties and found me, extremely wet and ready. I moved my hips towards him, eagerly wanting him. His fingers found me and began rubbing all around my opening, making me even wetter and more excited. I moaned and pulled at Samuel’s shirt. “Put them in,” I panted harshly, and Samuel put both fingers in, which instantly eased some of my tension. He began to tease me, drawing them in and out, listening to my breathing change as he did; taking note of the pressure and force which made my breathing increase as even more moans escaped from my lips. Samuel found the rhythm that made my whole body come alive, and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I moaned his name loudly, finding my release. Samuel kissed my cheek as he watched me close my eyes, relishing in the satisfaction he had given me with his hand.
“I love that I’m the only man who has done this to you. I love that I’m so many of your firsts.”
I opened my eyes and gazed hungrily at him. My hands moved up and down his chest. “Do you want another first tonight? I’m ready if you are.”
Samuel kissed my lips and then my forehead. “Soon Len. Soon.”
He moved so he lay on his back on my bed and I took up position laying on his chest. He began stroking my hair, and I moved my hand so it sat under his shirt, on his stomach.
Samuel’s eyes darted to the stack of envelopes on my side table. “More letters from Josh?”
I nodded. “I’ve told you he is my best friend haven’t I?”
Samuel stopped stroking my hair. “Len, do I have to worry about this guy? I mean, he isn’t in love with you, is he?”
I swallowed, and snuggled in tighter against Samuel. “He’s my best friend Samuel.” I didn’t want to have to explain my friendship any further. It was deep and intense, and I needed it like I needed air. Samuel had to respect and accept that.
The mood shifted, and everything became quiet. Samuel was immersed in thought. He did this often when he got lost in thinking about things close to his heart. Samuel wasn’t very emotional on the surface, but I could tell when he was thinking about serious matters.
“Does it bother you Len? That I’m a Voltaggio?” he asked, as his hands began stroke my hair again. His mind had wandered off to us and the longevity of our relationship. It was a road my mind often took as well.
I didn’t want to talk about it, but I knew why it was always on our minds. “Samuel, you of all people should know that a name doesn’t define you, and it shouldn’t effect what we have right now.”
He squirmed a bit as I said the words, and I could tell he wasn’t convinced. “But I’m like your Dad. I know how much that bothers you. You hate what he does and how he does it.”
I thought about what I’d seen in Samuel, how in three months he had shown me so many layers to his persona, none of which were anything like my Dad. Deep down, I believed Samuel was like me in the sense that he was put into a position where respect and loyalty for family came first, and his own happiness came second. When you are brought up that way, you don’t question your actions until something happens that makes you want to. Samuel had found another kind of direction to take that was different to his Dad, and he wanted to take it, he just didn’t know how.
“Yes, but you are different. I know you’ve been trying to get out but you can’t. I understand. I do. You don’t want to be like your Dad or mine. You would never hurt me or anyone I care about.”
His arms stopped stroking as he listened to me reassure him. “You really believe that Len?”
I trusted my instinct and my instinct told me that Samuel was different. “Yes. I watch you as much as you watch me. I see you Samuel.”
“I hope so.” His voice was low and tentative.
I couldn’t bear the melancholy any more. I didn’t want to think about why we were wrong for each other and what could break us up. I was already very aware of all the things working against us. I needed to stop Samuel dwelling on his thoughts about who he was. I knew he was worried about what I thought about him, and he worried it would push us apart. It amazed me how vulnerable he could be sometimes, especially when he was perceived as such a strong masculine enforcer in his family circle. You can never tell what is underneath with some people. Samuel was a good example of the phrase, ‘never judge a book by its cover’. If you were to look at him, you would probably see a very strong and muscular, womanizing meathead, but underneath that exterior, was a deep and dark sensitivity and emotion that was looking for something more. I loved that I was the lucky one who got to see it. It made me want to make him smile, any way I could.
“Sam...u…el,” I said as sweetly as I could sound. He could tell I wanted something. His eyes shot up to my voice that was already laced with mischief. His mood immediately brightened. He enjoyed playtime.
“Hmmm, yes...” he drew out with that rough yet smooth voice of his.
“Did you bring Cherry over tonight?” I got up so I could sit next to him.
He grinned at me. “I did.” His eyes glistened in the moonlight as I then straddled him on the bed, swaying my hips.
“I was wondering...” My hands started to rub his chest, already coaxing him to give me the answer I wanted.
“Yeeeeees!” His grin was crooked as he listened to me moan between my teeth. I pushed my body up against him, and I felt him getting aroused.
“Can I take her for a spin tonight?” I continued my rubbing up against his body. Cherry was Samuel’s Mustang. His ‘hot-as-fuck’ Mustang which very few people were allowed to drive. On our first outing together we listened to Cherry Bomb by the Runaways on full volume as we sped around the city, and after that, I took it upon myself to name her. Samuel didn’t mind. He thought it was a fitting name. I think at the time he hoped to pop my cherry too.
“Do you think you can handle my stick?” he joked. Samuel had a dirty mind, and when he let it show, I liked it. I wasn’t a complete angel and enjoyed a bit of naughty banter.
“I can handle your stick.” My hand slipped into Samuel’s pants and I began stroking him.
Samuel closed his eyes at the sensation of my hand around him, stroking him and making him harder. He opened his eyes and moaned, “I love you.”
My hand froze mid-stroke. Love?
“I’m sorry?” I asked, shocked that he had said those three words and that he had chosen this moment to say them. Samuel looked at me like he had been caught out and that the words had left his body without his control.
He looked at me with a pained expression as he realized what he just said.
I started to laugh because my hand was still in his pants.
“What’s so funny?” he asked. He looked like a wounded animal now, his face forlorn and disappointed.
“You just told me you love me,” I pointed out.
“Yes,” he said, not understanding the humor in the situation.
“While I have my hand down your pants.” I pointed downwards, and both our heads looked down to where I was still holding him tightly.
We lifted our heads and Samuel then laughed too. “Oh, I just fucked that up didn’t I?”
I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. It just surprised me.” I took my hand from his pants, very slowly and rested it on his waist.
“OK,” I said, and swallowed.
“OK, what?” He looked confused again.
“OK, now say it.” I smiled sweetly at Samuel who returned the same look. He understood what I meant. Now it was just us in the moonlight, holding each other, and staring into each other’s eyes. This was our moment.
Samuel’s chest heaved as he drew in the courage he needed to say those words again. “Lenorah Rossi, I love you.”
I half laughed and excitedly said back to him, “Samuel Voltaggio, I love you too.”
Not a second of hesitation.
We pulled into a deep embrace and held each other, knowing we had just crossed the line into something very complicated and dangerous. Our declaration now changed everything. We had just turned a corner down the road to something very scary and unknown because we had fallen in love. We both knew of the looming consequences, but we had just decided it was worth the risk. I whimpered up against his shirt as I buried my head on his chest near his heart.
Samuel pulled me away so he could look at me. “Don’t be sad Len. This is one of the best moments of my life.”
I nodded and met his gaze. “Me too Samuel, and that’s the sad thing. What the hell are we going to do?”
Samuel pulled me up against his chest again. “We are going to fight to stay together, that’s what we will do.”
Chapter 13
Interpretations
~ ~ ~
Thank goodness for Tess staying at the apartment. Things between Clint and I were icy cold when we returned home the previous night from the Garden Gala with Tess in tow. Clint left for work very early the following morning to catch up on a few things even though it was still the weekend. I lay in bed pretending to sleep thinking he would be very angry and distant with me, but I felt his lips brush against my forehead as he made his way out the door.
I arose a couple of hours later to find Tess already seated in our kitchen, sipping on a espresso. I moved my long black hair that was hiding my face behind my ears, and pulled up a stool next to her. I then, very purposely and dramatically, let my head flop onto the bench in between my two arms, moaning loudly as I did.
Tess laughed at me. “Soooooooooo,” she drew out the sound, as I lifted my head, knowing she was about to make some sarcastic comment. “Seems some things haven’t changed. I take it that was your ex-fiancé stirring the pot last night?”
I moaned again as I straightened my back. “Seriously what is wrong with me Tess? I just want to be normal, and have a normal life in a normal relationship. You know, nine to five work, movies, dinners, holidays at the parents’ house. You know all that regular stuff. And instead I’ve got a mafia ex-fiancé trying to come between me and my secret society affiliated boyfriend who spends his nights at a fucking burlesque bar, being hit on by whores in a place that drugs its patrons.”
Tess convulsed forward, spitting out what espresso she had left in her mouth. “Whoa! Back up. I didn’t understand anything past burlesque bar, whores and drugs, although that does sound like a fun combination!”
“Tessssssssss!” I hissed, not pleased.
She tilted her head and shrugged. “What can I say? I get up to crazy things in Europe. But seriously, you lost me after boyfriend.”
I sighed heavily and then rested my head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ve got lots to fill you in about.”
Tess raised her eyebrows as she took another sip of her espresso. “Sounds like I turned up at the right time then.”
I did feel relief having Tess here with me. Since we met, our friendship had continued to grow and get deeper. I trusted her and I loved that she was so upfront with me. She wasn’t afraid to be honest, even if some of the things she said were inappropriate, I liked that about her. Actually, I loved it. I wanted the odd sense of humor, boldness and truth she brought to the friendship. It calmed me and could quickly make me smile. I shifted a little closer to Tess as she continued to pat my head. I was so happy she was finally here. Friendship is good for the soul. My soul then pinched me. I had been completely self-absorbed. “Damn I’m an awful friend. How was your flight? How is work? How long are you here for?”
I lifted my head up and off her shoulder, now wanting to hear anything and everything about her time in Europe.
“Whoa Norah, so many questions all at once. Hmmm, let’s see if I can do this. Well, work flew me here business class so it wasn’t that bad. My job is exciting and tiring, but I still find time to go out and mingle.” Tess smirked at that. “And I’m only here until Saturday morning.”
“So you’ll be here for my birthday Friday?” My face lit up. Clint and Josh had a party to attend on Friday night for the Lappell at Kyser Harkin’s penthouse and had arranged for us to come as guests. I couldn’t think of anything better than the four of us celebrating my birthday together. It felt like a dream come true. I was actually looking forward to the evening. It was more because of the company I would be keeping, and even though it was a Lappell party, it would still be drinks and dancing with my closest friends.
“Yes but I have to leave very early the next morning. I have to catch the red eye to London.”
I went round to where Tess was seated and put my arm around her shoulder. “I’m just happy you are here for my birthday. We will drink, dance and get up to mischief.”
Tess went quiet as she finished her espresso, not showing as much enthusiasm as I hoped she would about us all going out. When she finished, she got up and put the little espresso cup in the kitchen sink. She turned and looked around the apartment. “So Norah, you going to show me what you’ve been working on? You told me you’ve been preparing for your next show. I would love to see what you’ve put together.”
I smiled at Tess. She was always very supportive when it came to my art. She could see me in my art and I loved her feedback about what she saw. It was a way of showing her who I was inside, without having to talk about it. “I have a work space not too far from here. You want to come and see what pieces I’ve done so far?”
Tess nodded very enthusiastically, showing a lot more keenness than she did about going out on Friday night. We both showered and put on jeans and blouses and took a cab to a nearby building that housed various open-style work spaces. I had one of the top rooms that had large glass windows, allowing a lot of natural sunlight to come through. It had higher than normal ceilings which was one of the reasons I selected it as my work space. My canvases were each double in size from my last show, so I needed the extra height on the walls to put together my displays.
“Wow, this is your work space.” Tess looked around impressed by the size and layout of the room. It was a huge step-up from my paint room back in Morewell.
“Yep. As you can see, I still have a lot of drop sheets that are covering the place. Am still painting the same way - you know, naked.” Tess laughed. As we walked around the room, I also showed her my brush sets on another table. “I’ve also incorporated some brush strokes with some pieces to give it more dimension. I like incorporating the two styles. I feel it brings together my wild side versus my controlled one.”
Tess looked back and forth, and all around the room. “What, no music?” She looked at me puzzled.
I walked over to a table with a series of paint tubes and tins and picked up a small black remote. “I’m a little more high tech now. Got speakers set up in all corners of the space that are hooked up to a laptop in a small closed off room over there.” I pointed to a small office linked to the room. “I just hit a button, and I’m surrounded by the rock gods.”
“Nice!” Tess said, taking note of the speakers on the walls. Her eyes returned to some of the canvases I had set up in three spots on the floor.
“So, tell me what your new show is all about?” she asked, walking over to the first set.
“Well I’ve really pushed myself for this show. I’m doing twelve supersized wall canvases and then grouping them into three groups of four. Each group of four canvases will be assembled like a box containing three walls and a roof so the person can experience all the movement of the paintings from all different angles. It will b
e like walking into a small room surrounded by art. I’ve created a three-dimensional emotional experience with three kinds of emotional journeys.”
“Looks incredible.” Tess walked back and forth between the three sets of canvases. “It’s interesting that you’ve created three collections Norah, each representing a different emotional connection to you.”
“I suppose,” I said, wondering why it was piquing her interest like that. I felt a double meaning was being thrown at me, but couldn’t pick it.
Tess stopped in front of the first collection. “Well, this collection has hues of orange, yellow and reds. The flow is calm, sedated and moves away from the eye. It’s like a calming good-bye, a serene farewell.”
She then walked over to the second group. “And this one with the green, black and gray. They are very chaotic, like a disturbed mind. Confusion. Worry. Uncertainty. They’re all over the place.”
I watched Tess as she then went over to the third lot of canvases. “Then there are these. Pink, blues, white and cream. They feel spirited and uplifting. The colors flow smoothly and passionately. It gives me a sense of hope, like the future.”
I stood next to Tess, thinking about her words, wondering what she was trying to get at, if she was in fact trying to imply something I hadn’t seen myself.
“Well, I do appreciate your interpretations and what each collection could mean Tess.”
“Or who they might each mean...” she slipped in under her breath, but I had heard it. No mistaking her implication now.
“Pardon?” I asked her.
“Oh nothing. Let’s talk about your birthday shall we?” Tess quickly changed the subject. She didn’t normally act so vague, so I was left wondering why she didn’t just say what she really meant. She looked distracted as she fiddled with a compartment inside her shoulder bag. When she finally found what she was looking for, she turned her attention back to me.
Pieces of Truth Page 11