by Amarie Avant
Once again, my mother has whisked away another love from my life, another chance at contentment. The happiness I could have known about the Giuglianos, about my father before her, about my nonna, evaporated the moment Salvatore ordered for us to travel home.
I have this sinking feeling that him determining that I was more like his version of Milo became my mom’s saving grace. The part of him that made me cower and cling to Evan was knowing he had the capability of murdering in a most peculiar way. The long, painful death he’d mapped out for Lolita reflected in his eyes as she spoke.
I just keep going back to the moments before Lolita arrived, and how humbled the Boss was when asking to meet his grandchild? Has Lolita truly taken that away from me, being that Sal released us? He’d transformed from a man eagerly jumping into my life, to a man who opted to set us all aside after all was said and done.
So maybe Lolita has cut ties between him and I, but the man towering before me, he is all mine.
Evan and I stand in the bathroom of his apartment. My ear snuggles against the taut plane of Evan’s chest. The echo of his heartbeat has bass and has a much needed calming effect. I don’t know the future as it pertains to my grandfather. Maybe I’ll never make a cannoli again. But I am confident in the present and the future with the strong man holding me.
I’m naked, and he’s fully clothed. I continue to concentrate on how his heart is beating boisterously loud into my ear. It’s as if his heart is declaring his love for me too.
“I love you, Evan,” I utter the words out loud for the first time. Wow. I never told Grayson I loved him, maybe I was waiting to save my love for someone my heart knew truly deserved it.
He bends down, smile on his chiseled face, and kisses my lips.
“Hey, just because I’ve got some making up to do, doesn’t mean you can’t say it back.” I jab him softly in the stomach.
“Oh fuck,” Evan groans.
My eyes widen. “Babe, what’s wrong?” I ask as mist from the bathtub fogs before us. He pulls his button out from his pants, and frowns all the while doing so. I help him unbutton his shirt. As I pull the linen shirt over one shoulder, Evan grimaces. He doesn’t make a peep, but I gasp. I reach down and touch the zigzagged scar over his abs.
“Oh, baby,” I say, tears prickling my eye ducts. “The other morning, I saw your pills… But I thought I was pregnant, and I left without checking on you.”
“Don’t cry, Reese. You are pregnant with my son.”
My fingers feather over, barely touching the tarnished skin. “What happened?”
“It wasn’t the other day that got me into this predicament. So it’s not what happened, it’s who. Salvatore and McGregor happened.”
“What?” I lick my lips, gazing at a thousand stitches along his golden skin.
“Your grandfather thought it would be wise to test my loyalty to you before he allowed me to see you.” Evan shrugs, “He somehow told your father’s old partner that you blamed him for Milo’s death. With McGregor’s past and how he’d been treated by the LAPD, the Union, and I’m prettysure people off the fucking streets, he went postal. Sal played him. I got a text from your phone.”
“My phone? I only called you the one time, you angrily argued about me coming home.” I place a hand to my forehead and groan, realizing Matteo had to be the culprit.
“Yeah, well when I went inside your place looking for you, McGregor took off on me.”
Moist air funnels through my lungs. “Oh boy, you’ve had a helluva time searching for me, haven’t you?”
“I killed McGregor, besides that, not too much of an issue.”
“You, you killed McGregor for me?” My lips are sucked into my mouth; I bite on the soft flesh and think. “For me?”
“You’re mine, Reese.” Evan says, unbuckling his belt. “I saw him as a threat that needed to be extinguished.”
“Jamie and I murdered a man before.” I blurt. Evidently my heart craves full and utter transparency.
“When? How?”
“We were teens. The guy… he was one of my mom’s boyfriends, I guess she didn’t marry the truly disgusting pigs after all,” I turn toward the tub. Steam bellows in the air due to the rush of hot water. The tub is to the brink. I turn the spouts.
“Talk to me,” Evan is behind me in an instant. This is me running away from a hard conversation and he knows it.
Determining never to have another secret from this man, I turn around. His pants riding low on his narrowed hips. All bruised and banged up, my love for him grows stronger still.
“Tell me,” he urges.
“Oh, Evan, I never want to hide a thing from you. There’s a war raging in my heart and my mind. I don’t even know what just got into me to mention this, since I promised Jamie I’d never tell, even after Riker, he said he didn’t mind—”
“Reese, stop going off on a tangent. Tell me.”
“Mom had gotten mad at her boyfriend for something or the other. She was always temperamental. She’d gone out with her sister. I was home, dumb as I am, listening to earphones, I’m usually smarter when my mom gets into fights, being that certain folks like to use me as a form of retaliation, I run quicker than she does. But not that day,” I shrug.
“Tangent.”
“Alright. The creep let himself into my locked bedroom. He offered me the chance to give him a blowjob, even had a crumply Jefferson in his hand as payment. He took my hard ‘no’ for a soft ‘yes’, and the fucker slugged me in the mouth.” My gander flits away from Evan, he’s angry at the words I’m saying. Do I sound cheap for telling such truths?
Shoving a hand through my tangled tresses, I continue, “Jamie was on his way by. I had forgotten he wanted to see this new Liam Neeson movie. Jamie must have heard and bashed his lights out with a lamp. Jamie didn’t mean to hit the bastard so hard, but … we took the guy’s body across the street. Honestly, I lived in the hood, so it wasn’t too hard to nudge his lifeless body in the right direction. We made it look like…”
“A gang initiation,” we say together.
Evan’s hand grazes the back of my neck, his eyes close and he breathes in the hair at the crown of my head as he sometimes does. “I fucking hate your mother, Reese. There, the truth’s out. I had to say it.”
“I had a feeling. Not many people like her. I’m sorry, I’m sorry she is with your father.”
“He’ll grow the fuck up one day, hopefully sooner rather than later.”
“Yeah, I hope it’s sooner.” I glance away, and then I tell the truth, “I don’t want her bullshit and the dynamics of their relationship to ruin what we have, Evan. That’s happened before with friends of mine. Sheesh, what am I saying? I don’t like her most times either, her love is suffocating.”
“Nobody will come between you and I, not even you. I haven’t allowed your misconceptions to ruin us, so I refuse to let anybody else do it.” Evan holds me at arm’s length.
I expect him to question Lolita’s love for me period. But he doesn’t, and for now, I have no energy to give a shit about her so-called love either. Perhaps, we will never speak again. I believe with Evan, I’m strong enough. I rock onto the balls of my feet and kiss his lips. “Your love is life, Tino.”
He laughs. “So you’re gonna start calling me Tino?”
“Occasionally, you’re turning into a bad boy, not the anal cop I met in a disgusting dive bar, not at all. Now, I was going to order you to the tub before it gets cold, but I believe we should cleanse you another way.”
“No, I need your goodness to clean me. Just let out a lot of the water, Reese. Long as it doesn’t touch my stitches I’m good.” Evan pulls his pants down. His cock is molded to his briefs and I gulp. He takes those off, and my mouth fills with liquid lust. Sheesh, him roughing up my body is the antidote for the day, yet the scar traveling over his skin has me hesitant about trying my luck.
Evan gets into the tub first, he sits on the second to the top ledge, the water laps at sturdy legs and thigh
s, but doesn’t rise any higher. Though I could use an entire body soak, I kneel onto the ground and cleanse him first with a sponge.
“Get in here,” he growls.
I chuckle. There’s room enough but I’m clumsy.
Evan massages his cock as I step a leg over his hips and then plant both feet on either side of him.
“I’m tired, Reese, get to work,” his hazel eyes sparkle a forbidden sin as he nods toward his cock.
“Okay, babe, no heavy lifting for you.”
I bow down near his calves, bend over, and let my tongue dip out to taste the very tip of his strong, curved crown. The most addictive cocaine seems to be infused in my bloodstream as his thickness widens my mouth. My jaw slackens so more of his slick, hard dick can be accommodated.
“Babe, come here, let me see how wet my pussy is.”
“Evan… I don’t think we should…”
“Now,” he commands.
My curvy thigh straddles over his hips, my knees bracing against the bottom of the tub.
“Mmmmm,” I moan. My womanhood sinks down onto Evan as I match his gaze. His eyes twinkle in amusement, he places his big muscular arms behind his head, and the bathtub has become his throne.
I smile, yet roll my eyes at how cocky he is being. While grinding on his shaft, I lean down and kiss his neck. Licking the semi-salty pulsation in Evan’s carotid artery, I imagine our hearts beat in harmony before I even realize I’m doing so.
“Fuckkkkk,” Evan says as I rub against his scar.
“Oh, oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t notice…” I pout and start to apologize profusely.
“You haven't apologized so much since we met.”
I smile weakly. “But…”
“Keep fucking me, Reese,” he growls. I position myself over his cock again. I shove my hair back with one hand, and grind against his shaft.
“This is what life is made for,” Evan takes a refreshing breath as I gyrate on him. My hips swivel around and his manhood finds solace in the deepest oceans of my walls.
“God, I love you, Evan,” I smile down at him. He reaches up and paws my damp breast. His thumb flicking over the hardened nub as my pussy continues to stroke ever so softly up and down his shaft.
Evan grips my hips; his biceps are large mounds of all muscle as he increases my friction. I begin to pant, squatting over him. My toes crunch beneath my feet and I orgasm. His finger flicks over my clit, my head falls back.
“Don’t fucking stop, Reese,” he orders.
My eyes close, perspiration dotted along my face. Evan slaps my hip and then grips my ass. I get back to work, my ass and hips swiveling as my walls glide over his cock.
His come squirts inside of me, in such a warm, tingling sensation that I start to quiver.
A few minutes later, I lean against my own side of the tub for a moment of rest, my thighs are warm from work. After cleansing him, and cleaning myself as best I can with the water so low, we get out of the bathtub.
I take pleasure in drying Evan’s muscular body with a plush towel. Nurturing him, mending his wounds, loving him has become my everything.
“You crying, Reese?” Evan tips my chin.
“I’m sorry, I’m not really crying.” I rub the back of my hand over tears.
“Babe, don’t cry, you make me want to go out and murder the first guy I see, I’d do anything to know how to take away your tears.”
“But I’m happy, Evan, these are happy tears.” I shake my head, and stop myself from laughing like a lunatic, “Okay, sheesh, no more friggen crying.”
He rubs a hand through my hair, grips the tresses at the nape of my neck and my chin extends upward. His mouth commands over mine, and it’s so hard kissing him for smiling.
We exit the bathroom, and I work the control panel for the electronic blinds. The sun is beaming into the floor to ceiling windows, and we need to rest.
“When I met you, Reese, I told you I wanted people to watch me fuck you,” he says, voice deep and consumed with sex.
My labia quivers. “Evan, you’re hurt, and do not need to exert yourself.”
“I took a few meds, Reese. Open the blinds.”
I press the button. “Okay, Evan, but…”
“But nothing. Stand against the wall, I want those rosy nipples plastered against the window. Not sure yet if I want to come in that beautiful mouth of yours, that soaking wet pussy, or voluptuous ass.”
Evan grips the back of my neck, my mouth opens wide, air condensing against the cool window. The city below is hustling and bustling with people, and the scene is a sight to behold. Evan steps forward and presses his erection against my ass. “Now watch all of Los Angeles envy the love I have for you…”
Epilogue
Reese
Eight Months Later
One day you’re gonna need me. I may not be there any longer… Those were the last words I had for my mom. She never did get around to apologizing. Out of the blue a few months after leaving my grandfather’s home, she called. She asked if I wanted to do lunch almost as if the time apart was the key ingredient to forgiveness. With a heavy heart, I offered my response because it’s true. I have only ever been her crutch.
Now, I'm seated on a stool, the stainless-steel counter before me is an organized bit of chaos. A subtle pain still lingers in my heart, a pain that only a mother could cause. But I take in the sight of my brand-new kitchen of The Flour Shoppe. It is bright yellow and airy. And I'm virtually alone on a Tuesday evening. Powder coats my fingers. It feels good and soothing and maybe, just maybe, it's actually the glass of non-alcoholic wine before me that has placed my mind in a mellow mood as I sway to the music.
Then I feel Jamie's presence as he exits the manager’s office, his new office.
“Jamie, turn it off and die,” I order, not even turning around as I sense him stepping toward the built-in radio system.
“I can't stand you and this damn music.” Jamie holds up an organic egg as I turn around as best as I can to give a smug grin.
At eight months and three weeks, the easiest thing for me to do is turn my head, though my nose has expanded and I suppose my wide lips are Evan's haven.
"This is my song," I say, "just go and leave me be."
He lingers, smile wavering. "I was on my way out the door, the driver should be outside; Chu has to go to Tokyo. Should I stay?"
My head cocks to the side, in mock offense. "Enjoy your trip. Boy, I can run my own bakery."
"But you look like you're about to pop, and what in the world are you making?"
My eyes narrow at the insult.
"Hey, those are your words not mine. Every day you either feel like popping, exploding... or combusting or whatever. And if I have to hear about those damn ankles, we're gonna have a problem."
Jamie straps his leather-studded satchel over his shoulder and appears the fashionable paperboy, vest and cap included. These days my only accessories involve me magically meandering out of the bed.
He asks, "So, whatcha making?"
"Nothing much and I'm just finishing up now," I shrug, "though this isn’t my first time getting busy in my own bakery, thank you very much."
My cell phone rings. I rub the flour onto my apron. A candid of Evan attempting to talk to a horse pops up as my screensaver. With our son on the way, and me in his ear joshing him about his fear of Flash, the gallant steed, Evan took me up on the offer to return to Santa Monica Mountain Range. Besides a good laugh on my part, Evan’s partner coincidentally called, saving the day.
Soon as I press connect, Evan orders. "I'm around the corner, Reese. Be ready when I get inside."
"Okay," I reply and hang up.
"Are you still going to dinner this evening? Why not dress up?" Jamie pitches a curled upper lip as his gander slithers over the purple and red striped maxi dress I'm donning. He always harps about me being in stripes equates to a catastrophe.
"Have you seen my..." I pause. Damn, but I do have tree trunks for ankles these days, but
Jamie just said I bitch about my ankles and my belly too much. I lift my glass and pretend it does the trick while downing the last bit of drink. "Whatever, you friggen bastard. When Evan gets here, I'll just tell him I'm too tired to go out."
"And if I carry you to dinner?" Another voice, entirely too manly for Jamie, speaks up.
I almost jump as I turn around. Sheesh, Evan is a wet dream. He's standing a few paces behind Jamie. Tailored slacks. A black dress shirt grazes rock-hard biceps and the two top buttons are undone, giving a glimpse of his chiseled chest.
I gulp. "Dude, you little stinker!"
"I had the feeling that you weren't getting ready to go, Reese." He steps over. The stool I'm sitting on extends high, yet Evan still glances down at me as he issues a rhetorical, “What did I say about you doing as told?"
Jamie arches an eyebrow. "Alpha mode," he mouths.
A warmth creeps up my cheeks. "Well, I didn’t have the chance to get ready, so whatever, Evan.”
He takes the flour off the counter and places it with the rest of the items and cocks his head to the designer Flour Shoppe box next to me.
Pursing my lips, I place the few baked goods into the box. Grab a silver, gauze ribbon and tie the box. Under my breath, I argue about how he just got off work and now is content bossing me around.
"Aren't the two of you so cute," Jamie says. "I'll walk you'll out... since this is goodbye until Chu and I get back."
For a moment suspicion makes my cheeks puff out in thought. Then, as I perfect the tie on the bow, I say, "Jamie how many times have I told you there is no such thing as goodbye?"
Evan helps me to my feet.
"I thought you were gonna carry me to the car?" I smirk.
"As you wish..."