by Jesse Jordan
“Very okay, but I wouldn't go talk to Giacamo. The poor man's dick would get chapped, I stopped by confession yesterday and I know he was busy by the time I finished my story for him,” Larissa laughingly replies, and I realize I'm looking for her British accent, which is strange considering that I've only heard it for a few minutes last night, while I've known her with this Greek accented voice for years. “Sit down, I ordered already. Arroncini and latte.”
“That'll be good. I don't want to eat too much. Just a suspicion, but I think Jessica's going on a cooking spree back at the villa.”
Larissa chuckles, leaning in. “You are the luckiest bastard on the planet, you know that right?”
“I know,” I reply with a chuckle. “And just think, she could have been yours for the low, low price of a quarter million euros.”
“That's okay, my bisexual side is just for work,” Larissa says, surprising me. “What? I've seduced women Rodrigo, I've never had a relationship with one. No, relationship wise, I'm all for team boys.”
Our lattes arrive, along with the plate of a half dozen arroncini, the fried rice balls herbal and delicious. Larissa lifts her cup in a toast. “To the lucky man. Salud.”
“Salud,” I reply, clinking cups before taking a sip. “So... can we speak honestly?”
“I'd like that,” Larissa says, a hint of her British coming back. “That's why I like this cafe. The Network doesn't care about this little place.”
“So all those assignments you went on, how many were legit?” I ask, and Larissa chuckles.
“All of them. Like you, I work around the needs of The Network. Sometimes my associates and The Network's goals lined up, like my trip to Zürich. Sometimes I added dropoffs and contacts, and once in a while.... well, let's just say there's a plumber in Edinburgh whose DNA identity would surprise Rachmaninoff,” Larissa says. “Not always, but sometimes. My missions are not always what they appear.”
I nod, thinking about the question that's been on my mind this morning as I left the villa. “We've known each other for two years now... was our friendship also just a mission, not what it appeared?”
Larissa hums, taking a bite of an arroncini. “Of course our friendship wasn't quite what it appeared. But yes, we are friends Rodrigo. There are sometimes unexpected perks to the lives that you and I lead. Finding a kindred spirit and friend in you... that was a good perk.”
“And you knew about me?” I ask, and Larissa nods. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“There are perks, and there are drawbacks. My position within The Network allowed me more freedom to contact, but still.... I'm technically breaking orders now letting you know,” Larissa says. “A risk I'm willing to take. I trust Jessica's Master.”
I laugh at her cheekiness, only slightly regretting that I couldn't see this side of her for years. “So what's next?”
“That's totally up to you,” Larissa says. “My superiors will probably want me to move back to Greece, it's a better hub for what I could be doing. Meanwhile... North America for you perhaps?”
I lean back in my cafe chair, considering it all. “I need to check on that. So tell me, if you can... when you told me about your past, the kidnapping, Jeddah, all of it... how much was bullshit?”
“Only my age,” Larissa says quietly. “I wasn't eleven when I stabbed that bastard to death. I was eight. He liked them before puberty more than after.”
“Fuck....” I whisper, and Larissa shrugs.
“No tears, it gets cheerier after that. The flight I got put on ended up in London, and I got lucky. The people who took me in were in the government, MI5 and not MI6, so I got a relatively normal early teen years. It was my choice to go to the government and become an agent,” Larissa says with a small little smile. “I didn't learn my sexual skills on the streets, but under the watchful eyes of some of the best instructors in the British Commonwealth.”
“So are you really... into the same things I am?”
Larissa laughs, her smile spreading and her violet eyes sparkling with the intelligence and wicked humor that I've come to know and enjoy. “I was a kinky girl long before I was doing it for Queen and Country. They just showed me some more ways to have fun.”
I shake my head, the two of us finishing our light lunch. When the bill comes I take out my cash before Larissa can even move, handing our server fifty euro and telling them to keep the change. “Generous, aren't you?”
I chuckle, shaking hands with my friend and equal. “For what you did for me, I'm buying lunch... for the rest of our lives. Look me up if you ever get to the States.”
“Oooh, a challenge. I haven't taken on American security systems in a while, be good for keeping my skills sharp,” she teases before standing and embracing me, her voice going soft. “Be good to her, my friend.”
“Stop by the villa whenever you want. It'll be a while before we leave,” I reply, hugging her back. “Thank you, my friend.”
I leave, getting in my truck to drive to the church, where I leave it after doing a quick, highly selective confession with Giacamo and run to the Farm. The jog helps me relax, and when I get to the gate I'm feeling good, barely sweating. Inside, Scoglitti is waiting for me in the office, his face brightening when I arrive. “Ah, Rodrigo! In what has been a shit day, you bring some brightness!”
“Zio, it's always good to see you,” I greet him. “I heard about The Sultan. What would you ask me to do?”
“There is nothing to do, the matter is settled,” Scoglitti says. “Obviously when we heard about the explosion, we were curious, but Larissa vouched for you, saying the two of you were having a late dinner at your villa with your woman. From what we can tell... we think The Sultan finally pissed off the Israelis a bit too much. And Mossad doesn't fuck around.”
“That they don't,” I agree, glad that I'd taken the time to rig things on the boat the way I did. That and trusting Larissa. “So what did you want me to come to The Farm for?”
“To formally ask if you'll become capo of North America,” Scoglitti says. “The fact is, this decision becomes more important than ever. While I'd miss your assistance here in Sicily, what The Network needs is to move through this transition as quickly as possible, get restabilized. So what do you say?”
I think, then realize this isn't my decision any longer. “Zio, I need to confer with one person on this. Jessica.”
“Your slave?” Scoglitti asks. “Why?”
“Zio, I've fallen in love with her... and last night I freed her and asked her to marry me. No matter what, I have to take her into consideration as well.”
Scoglitti studies me for a minute, his eyes unreadable. It's a risk that I have to take, I realize. The old Cosa Nostra code required the members to place the Mafia above even their families, but The Network hasn't been quite so strict in this interpretation of the rules. Finally, he hums. “This Jessica... is she that remarkable?”
“And more, zio. I love her very deeply.”
“If she says no, what would you do?”
I shrug. “You still need an assistant here in Caccamo. It's a good town, a good place to be married, to have a family some day.”
Scoglitti hums, and strokes his beard. “I understand. Well, can you give me a call tonight with your decision?”
I stand up, brushing off my shorts before offering my hand to Scoglitti. “Zio, I promise. By midnight, you'll have my decision.”
We shake, leaving the office and heading outside. Scoglitti goes over to his Maserati, turning when he's half inside. “Rodrigo!”
“Zio?”
Scoglitti closes his door and looks at me over the roof of his car. “You realize, getting married, being so honest in loving this woman... it's a weakness. Your enemies could try to exploit it.”
I laugh harshly, shaking my head. “Let them try, zio. They will find out a very harsh lesson.”
“What's that?”
“It is in my weakness that they will find my strength.”
The villa does smel
l like Jessica's been cooking her ass off when I walk in, but I'm still surprised by the size of the spread that waits for me on the dining room table. “Jessica, there's no way that we can eat all this! My God love, there's enough here for five people!”
“Say that again please Master,” Jessica says, coming out of the kitchen with a bottle of wine and setting it on the table. “Hearing you call me love is... well, thank you.”
I grab her wrist and pull her into an embrace, kissing her soft lips tenderly. “I love you Jessica. I love you, and I will always love you. How's that?”
“I love you too Master,” Jessica says, kissing me deeply. I hum, my cock twitching in my pants and she steps back, ever the perfect lady. “So... how was Caccamo?”
“Larissa says I'm the luckiest bastard on the planet,” I answer, making her smile. I hope that whatever happens in the future, they can remain friends. “I'm inclined to agree with her. And... I was formally offered the capo job.”
“What did you say?” she asks, and I shake my head. “You turned it down?”
“No, I told Scoglitti that I needed to ask you,” I explain, reaching out and holding her hands. “Jessica, there's three choices for us. One, I turn the job down and we remain here, on Sicily. Two, I become capo, and we move to North America. Both would require that I remain Deep Cover, which means that for ninety nine percent of the time, I would have to act like a member of The Network.”
“What's our third choice?” she asks, stroking my face. “Run away to Fiji?”
“No... but I could get in contact with the FBI, have them pull us out. We'd be given totally new names and go back to a normal life, I'd probably be an intelligence analyst or training officer for Deep Cover programs,” I say. “What do you want?”
Jessica thinks, then comes closer, kissing me again. “What I want is to sit down with the man who will become my husband, have a nice dinner... and one other thing.”
“What's that?” I ask, pulling her close. Jessica wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me tightly before standing on her tiptoes and whispering in my ear.
“Five minutes head start for hide and seek?” she asks, licking my earlobe. “We made love last night. Tonight I want Master to make it hurt.”
My cock twitches in my pants, and I smack Jessica's ass, growling. “Five minutes, one phone call... and then your ass is mine.”
Jessica moans and pats her backside, already anticipating what's to come. “It always will be, Master.”
Jessica
“Good morning Missus Camponini,” the doorman greets me as I leave our building, automatically hailing me a cab. Living in the penthouse has its perks. “Pretty day, ain't it?”
“That it is, Logan,” I reply, glancing up at the sky above. It's nice to see blue after a week of gray, and I'm glad, I've got a busy day. “Good fall weather.”
“You ain't lyin'. Even better, I got tickets to the Giants game this Sunday, I hope this holds out another few days,” Logan says as a taxi pulls up. “Here you go, Missus Camponini. Have a good day.”
I give him a wave and climb in. I've got a busy day, with a workout scheduled at the gym before I meet up with Gina, our new FBI contact, for tea and biscuits while she and I supposedly work together on the charity front for The Network, and then a doctor's appointment. Since moving to New York Master has been very careful on my health, and when I started feeling a bit nauseous the other day, he made sure I scheduled an appointment. I want to be healthy too, we've got dinner tonight at Le Bernardin, and I want to enjoy the evening.
My workout goes great, Larissa's tips still helping even as I get glances from some of the guys in the gym. Master laughs when I tell him about men hitting on me at the gym, mainly because we both know they couldn't handle me even if I gave them a chance. There's a few who recognize what the metal collar and satin ribbon around my neck along with the small brand of RC on the inside of my left wrist means, and they're respectful.
Gina, who despite her Italian sounding name is half Chinese half WASP, is dressed as she always is, looking more like a lawyer than a FBI contact when I arrive at Persephone's Smile, the name of the charity that Master let me pick out. She looks a little peeved when I show up, and I raise an eyebrow while I prepare my mug of tea. “What's wrong, Gina? We said eleven. It's ten forty still, traffic from Chelsea Piers was good today.”
“Someone finally clued me in to something that's been on my mind for two months,” she says, her Midwest accent still clear even though she's lived in New York for five years. “I thought those collars you wear are just for decoration. Then I saw the brand, and I noticed you never use his name, and well, just... why?”
“Decoration... and marking,” I admit, smiling. “Jealous?”
“No...,” she grumbles, but I don't believe her. “Just... why?”
“Because he's powerful, he's amazing, and he's all mine,” I tell her, sitting down at the conference table. “And because it's my choice. It always has been.”
Gina shakes her head, and as we work I see her keep glancing at my collars. Finally, she sets down her pen, blushing. “Your choice?”
“My choice,” I confirm. “I asked him to brand me, and if you ever see him out of his work suits, you'll find a matching JC brand on the inside of his right wrist, they touch when we hold hands. You gotta realize, just because I submit to Master doesn't make me weak, Gina. If anything, it makes me stronger. Now, let's talk about next week's shipment, and who's scheduled to buy.”
The nights are getting a little crisp, but I feel great as Master escorts me into Le Bernardin, where our table is waiting for us in a private, quiet corner. It's not where the celebs and image seekers sit, but that's why we requested this spot... it's not supposed to be with the fame seekers.
“Have I told you yet that you look amazing tonight?” Master asks me as he holds my chair like a total gentleman. Then again, he is. “The most beautiful woman in the room.”
“Considering there's two actresses and a Vogue cover model in the room, I'm flattered Master,” I reply, taking his hand as he sits down. “How was work?”
“Things at the docks are going just fine,” he says, shrugging. “And my meetings were fine. We'll be prepared for next week.”
The waiter comes over, his book out and ready for our order. “May I interest you in a wine tonight?”
“No, not tonight,” I say before Master can order for us. “Just mineral water, if you please. And a few minutes on the appetizers.”
The waiter nods and leaves, Master giving me a surprised look. “Is everything okay, Jessica?”
I smile, reaching across and taking his hand. “Everything's fine, Master.”
“Then why the water? Have we been... well, have we been training too roughly recently?” Master asks, and I shake my head.
“No Master, I love the suspension rig. Uh... but we might need to not use it for a while. The doctor said that might not be good for the next few months,” I say. Master gives me a worried look, and I decide to let the cat out of the bag. “At least until after I have our baby.”
Master's hand falters, and he sets down his glass of water. “Wait, did I just hear you right?”
“You did. We're in...,” I say, then laugh at my own wit. “We're in the family way.”
Master chuckles at my phrasing, taking my hand. “My love.”
There's only one word that I need to respond, the one word that means everything to me. “Master.”
Keep reading for the 2nd part of this story, Larissa’s book.
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Rock Me Baby
Cora
“So, while most of the prom is going to be DJ'd, Mr. Gabineau thought that it'd be cool if there were a few different acts doing some live performance stuff too,” Rocky tells me as we chew our sandwiches inside the music room at Sequoia High School. I really don't know why they call the place Sequoia High, we're in Simi Valley. Ah well, I guess it
's better than being boring old Simi Valley High, our rivals on the other side of town.
Rocky's looking at me like I'm supposed to respond to something he just said, and I realize that I've been daydreaming again. It's hard not to around Rocky. It's the only way that I'm able to keep my cool around him. Rocky Blake, best friend, and boy of my dreams, all six feet of him, with his longish black rock-star hair and ripped body that's not just the product of a lot of playing the guitar. We’ve been hanging out together ever since junior high school, mainly bonding over our love of music. Today, he's wearing jeans that hug his butt very, very nicely, along with a long-sleeved t-shirt that half tucked in on his right side. While I can't see the bulges of his shoulders and biceps in it, I still know they're there. In fact, the image of them, along with thoughts about his butt in those jeans, and those sensuous lips of his, have been dominant in my thoughts.
Too bad for me, Rocky seems to only think about his music. To him, I'm just a friend. “Cora? Earth to Cora Clearwater?”
I shake my head, chewing the next bite of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Don't knock them, they're cheap, they taste good, and best of all, I can keep crumbs off the stuff in the music room, which is important if Rocky and I are going to be allowed in here during lunch hours by Mr. Delgado, the music teacher. He doesn't like that 'rockers' want to use his music room. He thinks that music begins with the marching band and ends with the glee club, with no space for an electric guitar anywhere in between. “Sorry Rock, guess my head was somewhere else. So, Principal Gabineau wants to have some live acts?”
“For sure. Anyway, I'm so going to put my name in. The guys and I can do something, just a little three song set, but it's live work. Anyway, I could really use your help on this, picking out what we're going to play,” Rocky says, sipping his protein shake. Those and his constant working out keeps him looking like a model. However, he knows that his future isn't tied up in his attractiveness or the rigors of school. “So I was thinking… you want in on it too?”