He whistles through his teeth. “And he’s driving a fucking Lamborghini. Drop the bodyguard, sweetheart, and do him.”
“Not happening.” I give him the finger as I come down the stairs.
“You dressin’ like dat? What da fuck is wrong with you?” Giving me no warning, he reaches forward and pulls on my blouse causing the top three buttons to break free and drop to the floor.
“You’re welcome.” He picks them up and hands them to me.
Too late to do anything about the cleavage, I button my black jacket, cursing, and head out into the street.
Holy shit. Skinny Stevie has bulked up since middle school. The braces and acne are gone, replaced by a short dark beard and Italian good looks. I am sure any other woman would be swooning but other than being surprised, my heart registers nothing on the lust-o-meter.
If anything, Steve only reminds me of what I’m missing.
Needing to put on a good show for Vinny, I smile politely and hold out my hand. “Steve. How nice to see you.”
He cheek kisses both sides of my face and smiles. “Bella, you look incredible.”
When Steve’s eyes wander to my low cleavage, in my mind, I curse Joey to hell.
Then, my date opens my door, I slide in, and I pull my skirt down wishing it were below the knee instead of stylishly short.
Jumping into the sports car, Steve revs the engine, and peels out into the street. “I assume you like Italian?”
I break into the local dialect. “Whaddoyouthink, eh?”
He grins as he runs a yellow light and takes us toward the city. “Still a funny girl, I see.”
“You can take the girl out of Brooklyn but never the Brooklyn out of the girl.”
As we head over the bridge, I’m reminded of dancing with Batman and the incredible sex after. I know I’m not cheating. I explained to Suds how this might happen, but still, tonight doesn’t feel right.
I clear my throat. “I, ah… I don’t know what my Uncle Vinny told you…”
“Don’t worry aboudit.” He slides into the vernacular, too. “I know there’s some guy sniffing around your legs but I don’t see a ring.”
I don’t care if the guy is driving around in a car costing a quarter mil, that’s just rude.
Checking the time on my phone, I moan. It’s going to be a long evening.
In the restaurant, Steve insists on removing my suit jacket and handing it to the coat check girl. I told him I was chilled but he ignored my wishes.
His hand slides down my ass as he walks me to the table so I reach around, grab his pinky and pull hard the way I learned in self-defense.
The damn man chuckles as a waiter pulls out my chair.
While he eyes the wine menu, I check for egresses. “Excuse me,” I slide out. “I need to powder my nose.”
I’m pretty sure that’s what people say in swanky restaurants like this one. On my way to the throne, I can’t help but compare my outfit to the rest. Ladies dripping in diamonds and designers stare down their noses at me.
Well, fuck you. Someday, I’m going to be more famous than Sherlock Holmes and Nancy Drew. Not only that, I could kick all your asses and shoot a clump of hairspray off the top of your up-dos.
Yeah, I’m talking to myself and I haven’t even had anything to drink.
Inside the stall, I text Mia.
Me: Call me in an hour. 911
Mia: ??
Me: Date. Skinny Stevie.
She texts me back a thumbs up and I relax. I can handle an hour. Then, I’ll explain to Uncle Vinny how Mia was having a panic attack. She’s really good at faking those. She managed to skip most of biology class, especially dissections. As I recall, she’s fond of frogs.
Makeup refreshed, I glare at a platinum blond who narrows her gaze to eye me up and down with a small sneer.
This is why I live in Brooklyn.
When I sit myself down, a waiter jumps to help me slip in my chair because obviously, a woman is incapable of shifting those remarkable two inches.
Wine in front of me, I take a deep gulp, hoping to take off the edge.
Of course, Steve takes it the wrong way. “We could skip dinner. Go right back to my place.”
“Ah, Steve. I would, but I’m seeing someone.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“Good to know.” Murmuring into my glass, I take another deep swallow. The wine, at least, is real good.
Steve leans back in his chair. “Vinny says you’re starting your own business but didn’t say what. You thinking of opening up another hair place? Nails?”
“Oh, yes. It’s my life’s ambition.” I say it with all the sarcasm I can muster but it goes right over his head, even when I flutter my eyelashes.
“Your Aunt Marion won’t like the competition.” He swirls the wine in his glass while I gulp more.
“She’s thinking of retiring.” Ah fuck, I may go to hell for all the lies, but this is fun.
“No shit?”
“No shit. She told me the other day. I’m doing all the girls a favor. They’re going to need a place to work.”
“Won’t she leave the salon to Rose and Mia?”
I lean in, conspiratorial-like. “Nope, she told me she’s selling the place and moving to Florida.”
“Wow. That’s too bad.”
“I know, right?” I pause as the waiter drops a dish in front of me containing one tiny-ass fucking ravioli.
“Hope you don’t mind, I ordered for us when you were in the ladies room.”
“Of course you did.” I say dryly and check the time.
After I consume the miniscule bit of pasta, Steve leans back in his chair and pats his stomach. “Well, Samantha. Here’s the deal. I like you. I really do. And I think hair is good business. Everyone has some, it grows, and it needs to be cut. So, if you need a little starter money, I’m good. But, I think it only fair I get something in return.”
“Interest?” I smile weakly.
“In a manner of speaking.”
“I see…” While I ponder the best way to kill off my Uncle Vinny, I keep the disdain off my face.
Steve stabs at the small pasta square then points the pasta at me. “We good?”
Hell no, not in a million years. I glance down at my vibrating phone and I figure it’s Mia but it’s Suds. “Hello, Sugar.”
I jump up, eyes wide. “A panic attack? Oh, no.” I glance over at Steve who apparently isn’t as gullible as I’d hoped.
Suds hisses. “Shit. Don’t tell me. Uncle Vinny set you up?”
Ignoring him, I try to remember everything I ever read about panic attacks. “Take deep breaths in and out and put your arms up over your head. Huh? No. Put me on speaker.”
“That bad?” In my ear, Suds chuckles.
“Don’t worry, Mia. I’m coming.”
Steve reaches across the table, grabs my phone, and says into it. “Mia? You stop this shit right now. Vinny gave her to me for the night and…”
His face grows real pale. “I see… no, I didn’t know. Uh-huh. I’ll see to it. Yeah. Here she is.”
He hands me back the phone. “A guy named Sebastian wants to talk to you.”
Suds says, “Thank your date for the lovely evening.”
I stand, shove the waiter aside when he tries to help and say to Skinny Stevie, “Thank you for the lovely evening.”
“Walk out the door.”
I do but then have second thoughts. “My Uncle is going to-“
“Get an earful from me. Who the fuck was that?”
“Skinny Stevie.”
“Jeesus. He runs a huge online gambling business. Shady as hell.”
“I know. I was going to-”
“Sleep with him?”
“Ewwwww…. Yuk, Hell, no.” I raise my hand to hail a cab in front of the restaurant.
Suds hisses. “Sugar. I almost lost it. Hell, baby. I fucking love you.”
Huh? I stare into the phone, not sure I heard correctly.
“I love you, too.�
��
There’s a long silence. “Well no shit.”
If I had known a date with Steve would’ve brought us to this point, I would’ve agreed weeks ago. I snicker. “No shit.”
“I don’t want you out with other men, Sam, sweetheart.”
“Ditto.”
He laughs, “Okay, I promise not to go out with other men.”
“Not funny. You know what I mean. Some of those pictures with Elena, well, they’re pretty hot.”
“Jealous?”
“Maybe. She does seem to drip off you.”
I text him a URL with one of my top ten most hated pictures.
“Ah, luv. It’s nothing. She’s only lookin’ at me.”
“Uh huh, Like you’re my grandmother’s lasagna.”
“I haven’t had the privilege, but I get your drift. Still, she can look all she wants but only you get to eat me.”
“What a dirty mouth.”
“Damn straight.”
I shake my head as I climb into the cab. “I do, you know, love you.”
“Me too, babe, but I got to go. You’ll probably be asleep when I get free. Talk to you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Love you.”
“I love you, too. Good night.”
Chapter 36
Sam
Out my parent’s front window, snow falls in huge flakes. There’s already about an inch on the ground and four more predicted. Suds is stuck in traffic but on his way.
I stir the tomato gravy that’s been simmering for days and bring the spoon to my mouth. I taste sausage, onions, garlic, peppers, and so much more it explodes into memories.
“Magic. Pure magic.” I hug my mother as my dad pops into the kitchen and smiles.
“Now, that’s what I like to see.” He snatches a bite of antipasto and heads back downstairs where the men gather around the forty inch screen TV watching football.
“Where is your young man?” When my gram looks around like she expects him to beam in on some sci-fi portal, I check my phone again.
“About ten minutes.” My heart races at the thought of being in his arms again.
Joey comes in and hands my Kimmy to Aunt Marion. “Can you hold her for a while?”
“Oh, you sweet little thing.” Mom pinches her chubby cheeks. “Of course we will.”
Rose and Mia squabble about the table cloth. Designated peace-keeper, I walk out of the warm kitchen and into the large dining room.
Mia points to the two folded cloths. “We always use the turkey one. It’s tradition.”
“I just suggested we try something new.” Rose crosses her arms over her new Thanksgiving dress.
Both are a little off because they’re between boyfriends and neither had someone to bring to Mom’s for the holiday.
I point to the plain brown one. “Why not put that one on the kids table?”
Today, all of my maternal cousins living nearby are coming, making a total of twenty-five. The card table is set for their six kids all under the age of seven. The two moms have them upstairs in one of the bedrooms watching kiddie videos.
While I check the squash and potatoes, the doorbell rings and I hear my favorite southern twang. “Happy Thanksgiving, y’all. Where’s my gal?”
His coat covered with snow and the door still open, I jump into his open arms. Wet wool presses against my cheeks as I inhale his manly scent of soap, shampoo, and something pure Sebastian I can’t explain.
My mom taps me on the shoulder with a spoon. “For goodness sakes, let him inside and get warmed up.”
“How was your flight?” I kiss his snowy-wet face, then take his gloved hand, as he stomps his boots on the rug.
“Fine, fine.” His eyes catch mine, lust igniting. “Missed you.”
“Missed you more. How long are you home for?”
“I go back on the third.”
I try not to let my heart crack. “So soon?”
He pulls off his gloves, stuffs them in his pocket then cups my cheek. “Yeah. Slate said he’d try to get my next assignment closer to home.”
“That would be good.” Our hands touch when he gives me his coat and again we kiss.
“I wish we could have a few moments alone.” Turning to the overfull closet, I hang his coat over mine.
“Me, too.” Our lips connect again and despite a houseful of family, I try to think of a place we could find some privacy but come up blank so take him downstairs to the football game. “Look who’s here.”
Suds waves and shakes hands with my dad, Vinny, and Joey. Dad introduces him to the rest while handing him a beer.
I sit in Suds’ lap cheering for the Giants, then my Mom calls down. “Dinner!”
After we’re seated, Mia says grace, and everyone talks at once. My mom and Aunt Marion serve, starting with Antipasto.
Dad, closest to me and Suds, eyes the two of us. “How long you home for?”
“Until January.” Sebastian eyes me and squeezes my knee.
“Humph. You ever think of joining the force?”
Oh shit, here we go.
I cringe but Suds takes it all in stride. “I did for a while but I like the diversity Patten offers.”
“Doesn’t seem like a good job to start a family. How many days you home, out of the year?”
“Daaaaad…” I shoot him a warning look which he ignores.
“Sorry, honey. Just making conversation.” But his question stands, like the prosecution in front of the defense.
In this case, the jurors are my family, who have stopped all other discussions to listen in.
Fucking awesome.
Suds scratches his beard which he’s let grow in since last I saw him. “Well, it’s true. I spend a lot of time all over the world.”
He grabs my hand and kisses it. “We will figure it out, sir. If she’ll have me.”
I don’t want him proposing here, with everyone watching and so I hold my breath, praying to God he reads my mind.
He whispers, “Don’t worry, sugar. I plan on askin’ but not here.”
Suds changes the subject, smoothly as he takes a bite of turkey. “Mmm-mmm. Mrs. Russo, you sure know how to put on a spread.”
My mom blushes, “Thank you but everyone brought something.”
Grinning, Suds nudges me. “What did you make?”
“Pie. I point over to the island lined with desert. Pumpkin and apple.”
“Not Mrs. Murphy’s?”
“Shush. I told everyone they’re homemade and they are, just not by me.”
He laughs, “That’s my girl.” Then he gets serious. “You been behaving yourself? No new clients?”
“Not for lack of trying. Seems no one wants a private eye over the holidays. Hopefully it will pick up.” I stab at a green bean and coat it with cranberry sauce before popping it in my mouth.
“Any more dates I should know about?” He glares across the table at my Uncle Vinny but he’s busy talking to my cousins about the game.
Remembering my last, I giggle. “No, you might’ve scared them all off. What did you say to Skinny Steve?”
“I might’ve mentioned cutting off his balls with my boot knife, frying them, and feeding them to him.”
My eyes pop open. “You got a real mean side.”
After swallowing, he points his fork at me. “Only when it comes to you, darlin’. Me and Vinny are going to have a sit down and some serious talking in the meantime.”
Once we finish eating, we carry empty plates into the kitchen. Suds, not wanting to leave my side, is the only male to help, making him the favorite of the women.
“What happened to the baby’s Mom?” He bounces Kimmy up and down while I load up the dishwasher.
“She left her off on Joey’s doorstep with a birth certificate and a note. Joey had no idea the girl was even pregnant. He may be a lot of things but he’s a good dad.”
“Hmm.” Suds tickles Kim’s tummy with his beard and when she giggles, my heart does that thing it does when I think about hav
ing kids and when our eyes connect, I know his thoughts are similar.
Once the kitchen is cleaned, dessert consumed, we say our goodbyes and take my car home.
“Don’t laugh.” I start up the old Impala and it smokes as it coughs and grinds before starting.
He smirks. “How the hell did you ever get it insured?”
“Joey knows a guy who knows a guy.”
He rolls his eyes. “Of course he does.”
The snowplow has come through twice and the main roads are pretty clear and in a way, I’m disappointed. I’m torn between sex now or going home for sex. I sit in the car waiting for it to stop sputtering as I make up my mind.
He leans over the stick shift and kisses me. “I booked us at the Hilton.”
Google apps directs us and five minutes later we park the car in the lot. I grab the small overnight bag I’d packed just in case as he grabs his suitcase. Then, we dash into the Christmassy lobby, check in, and dash laughing into our room.
Out of public eye, our sex-starved bodies meld as we kiss. He tears off his jacket with our mouths still attached as I kick off my boots and pull down my tights. His hands slip under my green knit dress and cup my bare ass as I unbutton his fly, unzip him, and release him.
Both moaning, our hands working like mad to find skin, we fall onto the bed. His hand slides to my wet pussy and he hisses as his cock swells against my stomach. Finding the hem of my dress, he lifts it over my head and tosses it to the floor.
Then, he sits, removes his boots, jeans, and socks.
I grab his long sleeved black shirt and pull it off. All that’s left is my black bra which he sucks on before reaching behind my back to release the hooks.
Naked, we re-explore each other while the passion between us ignites into flames. My palms slide down his firm back to his butt cheeks while his do the same to me.
When his knee presses into my core, I ride him with his cock squeezed between us. We writhe together, creating crazed heat.
I pull away and open my legs. He fists his cock and in a one handed pushup, places his tip to my core, rubbing my wet nub.
“Suds…” I am so close to orgasm, I can’t speak.
His thumb presses my want in the perfect place as he slides into my tight core. It takes a few seconds for me to adjust. When my muscles give, he pushes in deep and moans as he drops onto his elbows.
Suds and Sam Page 17