Wild Knights

by Blaise Kilgallen

  Anthony Lupo motioned with a palsied hand that seemed to say "so-so" and pointed to a chair next to him. "Did Angelina get you something to drink?"

  "It's coming," Evan replied. "Can I get you something?"

  "Eh? Maybe some anisette." His voice rasped through the air-conditioned room like sandpaper on raw wood. "Only a little bit." He measured the amount he wanted with his thumb and index finger.

  Just then, Angelina bustled in with an open bottle of Budweiser(r) and a pilsner glass. "My uncle would like some anisette, Angelina."

  She did the honors and left the men alone, saying supper would be ready soon.

  As he sipped the potent liqueur, Tony suffered a bout of coughing, but he held up a restraining hand until he recovered.

  "Basta!" he cursed. "Can't even swallow nowadays!"

  Not sure how to answer, Evan kept quiet.

  The noisy roar from the TV broke in.

  "What's the score, Uncle? I had the game on the radio but they must've scored by now."

  "Damn Yankees are behind six to seven," his uncle growled. "That squint-eyed Oriental shoulda been pulled off the mound after the third inning." He clicked the set off, dropping the remote on a nearby table. Tony tapped Evan on the forearm. "I need a favor from you," he said without breaking stride in the gruff voice that had shaken up the nervous system of plenty of men during his uncle's prime years.

  "What favor?"

  "It's about your father."

  Something jolted through Evan's chest like a knife plunging into his heart. His father had been killed in a local mob war 25 years ago. Evan never forgot that night, how his father had been carried into their home on a quiet residential street in Nutley, and dumped bleeding and almost dead, by two thugs Evan never saw again. He had been very young when it happened, but he could still hear his mother's frenzied screams echoing throughout the house. Uncle Tony had had the incident squelched, and Lorenzo had been buried quietly. Neighbors believed he'd succumbed to a heart attack. Within a month, the house in Nutley had been sold, and Evan and his mother had moved in with Rose's brother-in-law.

  Evan shook his head. "What about my father?" he asked.

  "I vowed never to forget..." Tony coughed again, his wheezing too loud in Evan's ears. "What those bastards did to him. Now it's our turn."

  "Uncle, that was 25 years ago..."

  "I never forget."

  "But..."

  His uncle dribbled the rest of anisette down his throat. "Come. First we eat, then we talk." He grabbed the wheels of his chair, spun himself around, and rolled toward the dining room across the hall, leaving Evan to follow him.

  * * * *

  Menstrual cramps woke Carla at the same time the alarm clock buzzed on Monday morning. She sat up in bed, slightly confused, wondering why the room was so dim and why the shades were pulled down. Is today Monday and yesterday was Sunday and...?

  Oh God!

  Carla quickly checked her sheets. Her period. She groaned in relief. You can't get pregnant when you have your period, can you? She'd better check fertile days with somebody who knew something about getting pregnant. She never had reason to worry, because she hadn't been screwing with anyone until ... holy Hannah, everything seems so hazy this morning, she wasn't a bit sure. The last thing she needed was to get pregnant at her age.

  Yesterday seemed a memory buried in the past, almost lost in the realm of fantasy, until she'd noticed twinges of discomfort between her thighs. Flinging her legs over the side of the mattress, Carla stood, suddenly realizing why her window shades were down. The windows of the two-story house next door faced her house and...

  Oh God, she and Evan had been stark naked. Anyone could have looked into her bedroom. She shuddered at the thought. Carla hurried to the bathroom, everything coming back to her in flashes of vivid Technicolor. She calmed down when she jumped into the shower and had more time to think. A lot of what she remembered happily took a load off of her mind. She felt better already.

  She recalled that her stud used a condom. Phew!

  And...

  I did it. I got fucked yesterday!

  * * * *

  Evan wasn't at the Spa on Monday, but Tara, true to her word, returned on Tuesday.

  "Sonny Ruggiero and me eloped over the weekend, Carla," she said, her face glowing with enthusiasm as she entered the assistants' rec room. "I thought my father was going to kill me."

  Tara helped herself to coffee from the coffee maker and turned with a happy smile toward Carla. "I told mom and dad that I was going to Atlantic City with Kerry and Melody. You know how Italian parents love big weddings. Well, Sonny and me, we decided to go and do it on the sly. If my parents want to give me a party later, that's okay. But I'd rather they give us money so we can get a nice place to live. Right now, I'm living with Sonny in Jersey City."

  "Oh, Tara, are you sure that was the wisest thing to do?" Nevertheless, Carla hugged her tight. She was very fond of all the girls she worked with. They had been very nice to her on her birthday. She'd give Tara a little shower for her elopement.

  "It's done, Carla, and I'm so happy. I love the big hunk so much."

  Carla could tell by the way Tara's eyes sparkled, and how her cheeks warmed when she thought about her Italian boyfriend. "I can tell you're going to be very happy, Tara. Best wishes for a long, happy life."

  Melody, Pat, Kerry, and Sissy entered the room for break, talking and laughing a mile a minute. Carla and the girls started work at 8:00 a.m., but usually stopped for coffee at 9:30.

  "Did you do it, Tara?" Melody asked her friend, eyes bright with curiosity.

  "Yup!" Tara held out her left hand with a gold band on her third finger.

  "Whoopee!" The girls squealed in unison. "Tara! That's super! When? Where'd you go?"

  "To Caesar's. Atlantic City. It's fab!" Grinning, Tara swallowed another sip of coffee. "Except I didn't see much of the place or the gambling because ... well, you know." The girls ogled her and laughed. "I've been flat on my back for two days," Tara finished with a giggle.

  "Did you get to eat?"

  "Room service. Can you believe that? And it was scrumptious ... almost as scrumptious as Sonny!" Tara eyed the white bakery box sitting on the small table ringed with plastic chairs. "I didn't have any breakfast, because he..."

  The rest of the girls kept up the teasing, all of them happy for Tara.

  Carla saw the look on the rest of their faces. None of the others were even engaged, simply on-and-off-dating with no one special. She kept thoughts of her own weekend of sex to herself.

  Fabulous indeed!

  Evan didn't show up to dig in the garden on Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. For some unorthodox reason, Carla felt hurt. He didn't even call. But then, why should he? He'd announced he would be her Stud for a Night, and he certainly had done his duty. So well that Carla had still been a little sore even by Wednesday.

  After work on Friday, Carla stopped for Chinese food and rented a movie she wanted to see. Cleo pestered her when she arrived home, twining around her ankles, until Carla gave the cat a big dish of canned food. Then she went through her mail while she ate. It was still light after she finished, so she took a short stroll around her yard, picked dead blossoms from the marigolds, geraniums, and petunias, and pulled a few weeds. She came inside a little later and settled down in the big wingchair to watch the movie on her VCR.

  Sitting in that chair brought back vivid memories of what she did with Evan just a few days ago. Carla curled her body into the cushions, closed her eyes, and tried to emulate his touches, his kisses, his arms wrapped around her. But imagination could only do so much. She still wanted the real thing.

  Better forget it, Carla, she reminded herself. It was only a one-night stand as far as he was concerned. You won't see him again. Sexy males like Evan Lupo have other fish to fry. They don't hang around long. Squelch those thoughts and put him out of your crazy 37-year-old mind!

  Telling herself to forget him, Carla focused her attentio
n on the movie, a comedy. Cleo crawled onto her lap and made herself comfortable, purring like a contented motor. After the movie was over, Carla closed up the house and went up to her bedroom.

  She was brushing her hair when the phone rang, startling her.

  Who the heck can that be? Nobody calls me at this hour. Was something wrong at the Spa? Worried, she picked up the phone, tension evident in her voice.

  "Hello?"

  "Good. You're still awake."

  "Evan?"

  "Yup. I just finished tonight's performance." His words hung in the warm night air.

  She wasn't sure how she should reply, so she said nothing. Was that the reason he called? Was she supposed to invite him over? She waited, trying to make up her mind. Should she or shouldn't she?

  Then he put her out of her misery.

  "Carla, pack a small bag. I'll pick you up early tomorrow morning. How's about eight?"

  "Wha--t?" She almost choked. "What are you talking about?"

  "I switched with Raoul Bendora. He's taking my place tomorrow night. You and me are going to Atlantic City for the weekend, so get your cute ass in gear and be ready."

  "Wha-t? Are you crazy?"

  "Probably, but--well, you and me haven't finished ... you know."

  "Is that right? Well, I'm not going to Atlantic City with you, Evan Lupo. You're nuts."

  "Aww, Carla, don't be such a stick-in-the-mud. You're only as old as you feel, you know. I'll bet you get younger by the minute when I do those things to you. Am I right?" His low chuckle over the phone line was wicked.

  I'm 10 years older than you, and a whole lot smarter. Going to Atlantic City with you is like taking a dumb dive into thin air without a parachute. I got my jollies last weekend. But dammit, I want it again, big and often.

  He continued in the face of her silence. "You like what we did the other night, didn't you? I sure did." When she didn't answer, he went on. "You want more of that, don't you? C'mon, Carla. I'm lonesome for you. Hot and ready. Really. That's why we're going to Atlantic City, to ... well, relax and enjoy ourselves. We might even get in a little gambling if you feel like it."

  "Evan, I don't even know you. Why should I take off on a weekend with someone I don't know anything about? It's cra..."

  "What do you want to know? Let's see. I haven't been arrested lately." She heard the deep laughter and almost melted. "I have a steady job. I'm healthy--and you know I'm good in bed. What else do you need to know?"

  He's right, she thought. What else do I need to know? Grab this little fling, Carla, the persistent inner voice in her head said, and enjoy. You've never even been to Atlantic City! You may not get another chance. He told you he'll be gone in a couple of weeks. You'll probably never see him again. Carpe diem, Carla...

  "Well..."

  He heard her hesitate and didn't give her a chance to back out. "Great. Eight tomorrow morning. See you then, Carla."

  "Wait..."

  But he hung up, just like when he made their first date.

  But the following afternoon, Sunday afternoon, had not been a real date. It had been an afternoon of unforgettable lust and lovemaking, one she'd never experienced before. And she had enjoyed every minute of it when she finally let herself go. He did crazy things inside her. Maybe it was because she was older now, although she wasn't too experienced. Maybe it was because lately her hormones had revved up, making her twitchy and needing a bigger release than masturbating would do for her. Probably it happens when a woman reaches the age of 35. He certainly taught her things she'd never felt before.

  Are you ready to let him show you more?

  Oh yeah! Her smart aleck conscience answered back, loud and clear. This might be the sexual ride of a lifetime!

  Making up her mind quickly, she no longer thought twice about spending two nights in bed with Evan Lupo.

  It'll be heavenly; it's gonna be twice as good. He's gonna be twice as good.

  Carla hopped out of bed and started packing.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Carla left Cleo enough dry food and water for the weekend, and when the doorbell rang, she was ready to go, her bag packed. She wore faded jeans and a T-top and brought a jacket along in case it became chilly or windy. She had showered, curled her hair, and put on eye makeup and lipstick. There was still a bit of glamour in her soul even at age 37.

  Thank goodness, her period had finished early yesterday. Just in time for the weekend.

  "Where are we staying?" she wanted to know.

  "Wherever you want. Do you like Caesar's? Or the Taj Mahal?"

  "I've never been to either, Evan. Either one is fine by me."

  He glanced over at her after she had climbed into the Caddy and got settled. She really was cute, with her hair all curly and bouncy on her shoulders. His gaze lingered on her T-shirt and he thought about those rosy nipples perking up under his tongue. He could get a hard-on just thinking about tasting her in more intimate places, gorging on her pussy, all slick and wet from his teeth and mouth. He would do that later. Right now, she looked like a teenager--a hot teenager--and he planned to turn up the heat when he romanced her in the hotel.

  "Can I turn on the radio? I didn't hear the news this morning."

  "Sure, what station?"

  "CBS is fine."

  You know, Carla thought, he's really quite nice. Big and dumb, probably, but what the heck. Then why was she was getting those weird new vibes from him? Sex was what he came for, and she understood that. After all, sex was what she wanted, too. Right?

  Don't get sentimental, Carla. It won't work.

  Why then did other ideas tumble around in her too-mature brain?

  Their trip down the Garden State Parkway took almost three hours. Evan didn't punish the speedometer; instead, he stayed below the 65-mile-an-hour speed limit. Their conversation was comfortable. He told her about his early years in Newark and surrounding towns, and how he came to be involved as a knight for Medieval Showtime. She added some of her own personal background to the conversation as well.

  They finally arrived in Atlantic City, and he drove into the huge parking garage of Caesar's. Evan carried both pieces of luggage across the walkway to the hotel's lobby. At the time, Carla wondered if he had registered them as Mr. and Mrs. Lupo. The thought warmed her cheeks all the way up on the elevator until they reached their room on the fourteenth floor. As the door closed behind them, Carla looked around the room, impressed. The view of the Atlantic from the window was magnificent.

  "Do you always treat your sex partners so well?" she asked as she roamed, circling the room, touching things, feeling a little stupid and unnerved now they were alone in here. Tara told Carla and the girls she'd spent most of last weekend flat on her back, and Carla could well imagine she'd be doing the same thing.

  "Only when they're as cute and hot as you are," Evan replied, a bright-eyed smile creasing a dimple in his handsome face.

  "I was never cute, Evan. Only my husband thought so."

  He frowned and strolled over to her, laying a broad palm on her arm. "Can I ask you something, Carla?"

  She nodded.

  "Don't talk about your husband while we're here, okay?"

  Her eyes snapped up to meet his. He wasn't smiling now; he definitely looked serious.

  "I'm sorry, Evan. I should've known better. I ... won't." Carla turned away and hastened to the king-size bed where Evan had placed her soft-sided luggage. She said no more, but unzipped the bag, and went into the bathroom with tubes and bottles clasped in her fingers.

  Evan caught up with her as she opened the medicine cabinet to put her things on the empty shelves. She felt his hot breath on her neck, his strong fingers creeping around her waist. He slowly turned her to face him. She looked up into his eyes again, noticing they burned black with intent.

  Very slowly, he took her face in his big hands and deliberately lowered his mouth over hers. His kiss began slow and gentle, his tongue sliding into her mouth and teasing her soft interior. He took time to e
njoy the exploration, the feel, and taste of her. Carla knew already their kiss would lead elsewhere--and very soon. And she welcomed the idea of his powerful lance forcefully spearing into her body again.

  Evan jerked her hips hard against him so she couldn't miss his intention. She laughed softly, a little breathlessly, and slipped her arms around his waist, enjoying the touch of a solid, masculine body radiating heat, combined with the musky, tantalizing odor of sexual anticipation. She reveled in the smell of him, elusive and yet unmistakably erotic.

  "You know something?"

  Her brows rose in answer to his question.

  "I think I walked around like this, half hard, since last weekend." He rubbed his bulging groin over her stomach. "Believe me, Carla, it's no fun when you're galloping on horseback." He grinned. "Did I tell you that I think you're pretty sexy? Thinking about you, being with you, keeps me hard."

  "Do you think I'm sexy enough for you, do you mean?" But she reached up and kissed him a second time before he had time to answer. "I'll try to stay that way."

  He devoured her mouth with a passion that had her gasping for air.

  This weekend is going to be different, she thought. I can feel it.

  For no reason she could think of, she got the idea that she was his fantasy, too.

  The thought turned her on, and she let him lead her out of the bathroom to the big bed. They stopped to face each other. He smoothed his big hands over her shoulders, trailing them down her bare arms. "Do you want me to close the blinds?"

  She glanced over at the windows but shook her head. "Nobody can see us way up here. It's not like my bedroom at home."

  Slowly, he drew the T-shirt over her head, letting it fall to the carpeted floor beside their feet. "Your shape drives me wild, in case you don't know. You're great to look at, Carla. When I first saw you, my eyes almost popped out. You're a delicious handful--busty but slender, with crazy long legs. I'd liked to bite that cute little ass of yours a time or two."