She smiled when she turned and saw him standing there. And once again, that smile of hers was so arresting that it made him smile too.
“You made it,” she said cheerfully, girlishly, even though, in a lot of ways, there was nothing girlish about her. She was all woman. Sophisticated, strong, and, he was willing to bet, as passionate as he was.
“Yeah, well,” he said as he pushed himself away from the doorjamb and began walking toward her, “since I invited you over, I figure the least I could do was show up.”
Gemma nodded agreeably. Sal wore an expensive, double-breasted suit that made him look more like a gangster than a businessman, especially with his muscular, compact frame. And as he walked, staring at her the entire time, there was something animalistic about him. As if he was on the prowl, and she was the prey. It unnerved and excited her to such an extent that she looked beyond him, into the apartment.
“Melody still here?” she asked him.
“She’s gone. I sent her packing.”
Gemma looked at him. “What a terrible way to put it, Sal.”
“What’s terrible? She probably ran to tell all about her encounter with you as soon as she walked out of that door.” He was up to her now. And, to his delight, she was even more stunning up close.
“Why do you tolerate that kind of behavior from your assistant?” she asked him. She was fighting the attraction again, and he knew it.
“What behavior am I tolerating?” he responded.
“Why do you keep her around if she runs her mouth like that? I have a law office myself, with a paralegal and a secretary working for me, and I don’t tolerate either one of them telling my business.”
“But I’ll bet they tell it,” Sal said. “My assistants just aren’t as cunning as yours. That’s why I keep them around. They’re loyal to me. Yeah, they tell my shit, but they only tell it to each other. I can live with that. Because they’re loyal. And if you work for me, that’s number one in my book.”
“Loyalty?”
“Loyalty. So, I’ll say it again, I sent her packing,” he said as he placed his arms around her waist. “I couldn’t get rid of her fast enough. But you, on the other hand, aren’t going anywhere. You’re locked in, baby.”
“Oh, yeah,” Gemma said, pleased to feel his hands on her. “Says who?”
“Says the man with his arms locked around you.”
Gemma placed her arms around him. “Well now,” she said, staring into his bright blue eyes. “Seems to me you’re locked in too.”
Sal smiled. He liked this girl. “So where, oh where, does that leave us?”
“As two locked-in motherfuckers,” Gemma said to Sal’s hearty laugh. “Hell if I know!”
Then he pulled her slender body closer against his muscular one. “You’re a gem, Gemma.”
Gemma felt the closeness. She inhaled his male scent, his expensive cologne, his virility that was as alive as the feel of his rock-hard body against hers.
“You’re one special lady,” he went on in a lower tone as all smiles were now gone. Lust, not levity, filled their eyes.
“You aren’t exactly ordinary yourself,” Gemma said, seeing that lust and creating her own. Her lashes were half covering her eyes in that hooded look that only managed to turn Sal on even more. He looked at those eyes, and at those lips, back at those eyes, then back at those lips. And he kissed her. Tender at first. He didn’t want to appear desperate. But when he felt her wetness, her freshness, her tongue and teeth, he couldn’t keep it tender. He kissed her hard. He moaned at how wonderful she tasted. He pulled her even tighter, as he kissed her.
Gemma kept her arms around him too as they kissed. She wasn’t accustomed to such a hard kiss, but she quickly adjusted. She wasn’t about to pretend that she didn’t want this, because she did. She was nobody’s fool. She knew this man didn’t invite her to his home just to talk to her. He wanted it too. And, apparently, given the fact that they were into it already, he wasn’t wasting his time.
When they were in Vegas, and he came onto her, she turned him down. They could talk and hang out, she said at the time, but that was as far as it was going to go. But now she was on his turf, in his town, and as his kisses deepened and his moans and groans heightened, talking, she knew, was the last thing he intended to do. And, she thought warmly, she was pleased by his intentions.
She ran her hands through his brown hair as he continued to kiss her. And when his kisses left her lips, and trailed along her face, she lifted her chin and ruffled his hair and enjoyed every second of the sensuality.
Then his mouth began to rub against her face. She could feel his penis expanding as he rubbed his cheek against her cheek, and his lips against the smooth texture of her skin. And then he was kissing her again. His penis kept pressing against her as he kissed her. And he kept kissing her. He moved his head from one side to the other side, in a rhythmic motion, as he kissed her.
Then his kisses left her mouth once again and trailed down to her neck. She lifted her chin to give him full access. She knew they were out on the terrace, and although the lower half of the terrace was covered, the upper half was not. Their upper bodies, therefore, were exposed to the world beyond them.
But Sal didn’t seem to give a damn. He continued to trail kisses down her neck. He would put on a fucking show, and not give it a second thought, she felt, the way he was going.
But, to her relief, he didn’t go that far. His kisses, instead of moving further downward to her breasts, moved back up, to her mouth. And he was ravaging her mouth again. He couldn’t seem to get enough. He was making love to her mouth as if it was cunt at his tongue tip and Gemma was already getting beyond excited. If this portended things to come, she thought, she was in for a wonderful ride.
He moved his mouth against her face and began to rub his white lips against the smoothness of her black skin. “Hungry?” he asked her in such a husky voice that she knew there were a thousand meanings behind that one word.
“Yes,” she said, just as huskily. She knew he understood exactly what kind of hunger she suffered.
“I’m going to feed you,” he said, “but first you’ve got to feed me.”
He began unbuttoning and unzipping her shorts. “I’m going to drop your drawers, put you on one of these loungers, and eat your pussy like it’s never been ate before. You understand me?”
His words alone almost gave Gemma an orgasm. “Yes,” she said in barely a whisper.
Sal reached beneath the balustrade and pressed the remote button. Shutters rose up from the banister’s top to the top of the roof, and the open terrace suddenly became a closed, sky-high veranda. Sal then took his feet and slung one of the armless loungers closer to them, and then he began pulling Gemma’s shorts down as he sat her down. She leaned back, still feeling the effects of his kisses, as he removed her shoes and then her shorts and panties, and opened her legs as wide as they could possibly go. He slung them open so wide that it hurt.
He knelt down, between her legs, and looked at her. He was breathing heavier and heavier as he looked. She was dark and lovely and red and ripe for the taking. And he took her. He moved his mouth down to her folds and parted them. Then he began licking her with such slow, long-lasting licks that every swipe made Gemma arch. She was freshly showered, but she was certain it wouldn’t have mattered to Sal. He seemed intoxicated with her cunt. He kept licking it, and lip-biting it, until his mouth had wedged between her folds and he was eating her exactly as he had promised.
It was the best oral she’d ever experienced. It caused her to hold onto the back of the chair as the intensity of his appetite was ferocious. He was eating her the way a starving man ate a meal. Down to the bone of her pussy. He was slathering her vaginal juices with his tongue, creating a slouching sound and making her folds wrinkled and sensitive from his molestation. And this was just the appetizer? This was just the beginning? She didn’t know if she could take much more.
And he wouldn’t let up, mainly because he c
ouldn’t. Gemma was so fresh and fragrant to him, so new and special, that he couldn’t get enough of her. First it was her mouth, now it was her pussy. He couldn’t stop licking her and eating her and biting her.
“Oh,” she was saying in melodic grunts as he ate her. He knew he was pleasing her, and that only fueled his own pleasure. He used to give girls oral just to get them ready for his dick. But not Gemma. He gave her oral to get his dick ready for her. Because he knew he had to bring it. He knew he had to give this black beauty the best fuck she ever had, or he might not get a second chance. He didn’t know why he felt that way. He didn’t know why he so wanted to impress her with his prowess. But he did. In the worse way he did.
And it was time. He stood up, and began unbuckling and unzipping his pants. He wanted Gemma so badly that he could still taste her cunt on his tongue, and couldn’t wait to feel it on his dick.
He pulled his pants and briefs down to his knees, causing his penis to spring out. Gemma’s eyes were only half opened because she was still feeling the effects of his feast on her, but even she, experienced as she was, was impressed with Sal’s size. He was long and wide. And with a very slight, barely noticeable curve at the head. She liked dicks with that slight curvature. They penetrated better, and at just the right angle. And she knew, whenever Sal did touch his dick head to her pussy, it wasn’t going to only be about him penetrating her with a big bundle. She would bet any amount of money that he knew what to do with that bundle.
And he knew how to tease her too. For he stopped long enough to quickly remove his suit coat, tie and shirt, tossing them all aside. She was feeling the heat by the wait, and began rubbing her clit as if it would catch fire if she didn’t. And she couldn’t take her eyes off of that dick. And he knew it. And loved it, as he stared at her staring at him.
Then, after sheathing it quickly, he slid his dick inside of her wet pussy. She was so wet that he met little initial resistance. But as he began to move in, the tighter her passage became. Until he could barely move inside of her. It felt enchanting to him to have this level of friction. He closed his eyes and made low, grunt sounds as he slowly made his way deeper inside of her. She leaned her head back and arched her body up as he kept pushing and pushing every inch of that long, hard rod deeper and deeper inside of her. He wasn’t going to stop until he was in full.
And once he made it all the way in, filling her up with his dick alone, with nothing but his massive balls against her cunt left out, he began to stroke. And although she didn’t think it possible, his strokes took their lovemaking to an even higher level. He laid the lounger down in a flat bed and moved on top of her, removing her blouse, and lifting her bra as he did. Although he kissed and sucked her breasts, it was his dick that had her complete attention. Because it felt as if every sensual spot in her pussy was being stroked. Every move Sal made hit her g-spot there and then the one over there and then the other one over there. He was such an expert with his strokes that Gemma felt as if he couldn’t miss.
He fucked her in a steady gyration that made her feel special. She was amazed by his tenderness. But as he laid on top of her and stroked and stroked her, and as she became more and more comfortable with his size deep inside of her, she wanted more. She knew he was holding back, and she appreciated it, but now she didn’t want him to hold back. She began to buck against him, begging for more with her body alone, and Sal, just as she knew he would, got the message.
He got it loud and clear.
He wanted more too, but he wasn’t going to rush it. He wanted to savor this moment when he could be tender with her. He wanted to savor this moment when he could experience his first fuck with her. So he continued to stroke her. He continued to get her so ready for the next level that he knew, when he did go there, she would be more than ready to go too. He loved sex like this, tender and sweet, and for the longest time that was exactly what he gave. But he liked it rough, too. And if Gemma’s bucking was any indication, he thought delightfully, then she liked it that way too.
His steady strokes began to increase. And the more she responded to his increase by clamping her vaginal muscles around his dick even tighter, the more his strokes increased even greater. Until she was holding on for dear life and he was thrashing into her. Until her body was halfway off of the lounger and the lounger was moving from the sheer magnitude of his thrashes. He was fucking the shit out of her, just the way they both loved it, and she was screaming and holding on as he fucked her long and especially hard.
And both Sal and Gemma knew that, with that kind of elevated sex, came elevated cums. And sure enough, when Gemma came, it felt like a volcanic eruption. It tore at the very fiber of her being.
“Sal!” she screamed in what sounded more like a grunt than a word, and he pounded her harder.
But that sound, of her unbridled elation, caused him to spill out too. He couldn’t hold it back a second longer. He came. His volcano erupted too. And as soon as he poured out until there was nothing left to pour out, his strength gave way to a drain that caused him to deflate against her. He had nothing left.
And they just lay there, wrapped in the other’s arms, neither able to make any kind of move. Sal used to hear white men say all the time that once you do black, you never go back, but he never believed it for a second. Back in the day he used to fuck his share of black females and they were no better fucks than the white girls. So he wasn’t on that once you do black bandwagon at all. He didn’t know about that at all.
But he knew about Gemma. He knew about this one particular woman he had in his arms right now. On her, he could speak. And that adage was true in her case. Because there was no way, after being with her like this, could he even conceive of another woman satisfying him the way she just did. He believed that already. Her sex was just that potent. His odd, emotional feelings for her were just that different.
So potent and so different was his reaction to all things Gemma Jones that it scared Sal Luca senseless.
This was not what he had in mind at all.
This was not it, at all.
CHAPTER FOUR
They stayed on that terrace for a few moments longer, with neither saying a word, with both so sexually satisfied that they were almost alarmed by the depth of their satisfaction. And that satisfaction made Gemma all the more convinced that developing any kind of feelings for Sal Luca would be a mistake. This man had only one thing on his mind, and he’d just performed it. And because it went so well, so beyond even her already high hopes of it going well, he was going to want more. She knew it. And she was going to want more. She knew that too. The problem, then, wasn’t their sexual attraction. That was obvious. Their sexual attraction was king.
The problem was her heart. She didn’t think she was the kind of woman who could put it out there like this, leaving nothing back, and get nothing but more sex in return. Eventually she was going to want more than just sex. And eventually he was going to leave because he wasn’t giving her more. It was a heartbreak waiting to happen. That, for Gemma, was the problem.
Sal’s problem, as he lay on top of the woman he’d just fucked so roundly that his penis was still pulsating from the contact, wasn’t about heartbreak. He knew how to shield his heart. For Sal it was about those damn emotions! Why was he feeling so emotional toward this woman right now? All of his life women had always been nothing more than objects of desire for him, and Gemma certainly fit that bill.
But for some crazy-ass reason that he couldn’t figure out for the life of him, he wasn’t responding to her that way. When he was making love to her, he was thrilled that he was pleasing her. He never gave a shit before about pleasing his partner. Never! He was relatively certain that he probably pleased every woman he bedded, but he didn’t care if he did or not. He was all about pleasing himself and himself alone. They knew what he was about when they agreed to give it up to him. And he was sure Gemma understood that too.
But why was he looking down at her now with such warm feelings of tenderness an
d affection? Why did his heart squeeze when she turned around from the terrace rail and smiled at him? This could become a problem. Because he wasn’t about to give her up. He wasn’t about to do that. But did having her also meant having such feelings for her? Was he really ready to go down that road? His brother Tommy was always telling him how he was getting too old to play the field and he needed to find himself a good girl and settle down. He used to think that was the worse advice he’d ever received. He was balling every chance he got, having the time of his life, why the fuck would he want to settle down with just one woman and become some prisoner to her? That wasn’t Sal Luca’s style by a long shot.
But he’d never met Gemma before either.
He’d never had such an emotional draw to a woman before either.
And as he ran his hand through her soft hair, and she looked up at him with eyes as expressive, and as worried as his had to be, he couldn’t help his feelings. There was something about this lady right here. There was something about Gemma Jones. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why. But he couldn’t deny it.
She placed her hand on the side of his face. That gesture alone warmed his heart, and he placed his hand on top of hers.
“You okay?” she asked him.
He smiled. She could see lines of age and tiredness began to harden on the side of those big, blue eyes of his. “Yes,” he said. “You okay?”
She smiled too. That wondrously warm smile. “I am,” she said.
He rubbed her soft, bouncy hair again. “You said you were hungry,” he said. “Let me get you properly cleaned up so I can feed you properly.”
“I take it you’ve had your fill?” she asked with that smile.
“Oh, sister,” Sal said, standing up and lifting her up. “I’m so filled I’m bursting at the seams.”
Gemma laughed as he lifted her naked body into his arms as if she were light as a feather, and carried her into the house. She’d never made love outside before, and her clothes remained out there, but there was something so Sal about their encounter. His house wasn’t what she expected, and in some ways his cool manners weren’t either. But his sex was exactly on point. She expected a beast and she got one. He ravaged her pussy so completely that it was still reeling, still pulsating, from the effects.
ROMANCING SAL GABRINI Page 5