by S. W. Frank
“Can’t sleep?” he asked and then reached in the fridge for a cold drink. Not a word. That’s how it was unless they discussed the kids.
Selange shocked the hell out of him when she spoke. “Today is Shanda’s birthday.”
Hope of a truce emerged. He placed the bottled water on the counter-top and took her in his arms. “I know you miss her…yo sé.”
“She named these after us. She called it Sela’s Honey.”
“She did?”
“Yes, they’re good right?”
“Sí, es bueno.”
She rubbed her face in his chest. “I don’t want to cry anymore. Help me get through this pain.”
“Of course I will, what do you think I’ve been trying to do?”
“I know you’ve tried but sometimes I think it’s my fault. Shanda’s parent’s tactics were misguided, but sometimes I wonder if they were right.”
Abruptly, he released her waist to cup her face. His eyes were sparkles of disagreement. “Don’t ever believe that nonsense. What happened to Shanda isn’t anything you or I controlled. It was a terrible accident.”
“But, Alfonzo I do feel guilty. It’s crazy, but I think if I hadn’t fallen in love with you then she’d be here…and…Vincent…too.”
“Que?” Alfonzo’s hands dropped to his side.
Coño, that statement was worse than a bullet tearing through his heart. The damn thing stung because he had struggled with letting her go from day one up to the day of the church shooting. But she swore she was with him, one hundred percent and what’s this back-peddling mess about?
“We’ve lost people I love too. My Uncle, Alberti, Vincent and I almost lost my brother. I know Shanda meant a lot to you, to this family but she didn’t die by a bullet, she died in a car accident that could’ve happened at anywhere to anybody. Our lifestyle didn’t murder Shanda esposa and I’ll be damned if I stand here and take the blame!”
“Al…”
“Al my ass. You claimed to love me no matter what. Now you’re dropping crap on my head because you’re in pain. Doubting me or our relationship because other people are poisoning you isn’t cool chica…you’re far tougher than that!”
Selange winced at his reaction. “Honey…I’m not doubting us or saying I don’t love you…I’m hurting…so bad.”
He cut her off. The vein protruded from his forehead and wiggled like a worm, he was that incensed. “You don’t think I hurt dammit?” He knocked over the water bottle because he wanted to strike something. Selange tried to take his arm but he stepped back. “I’m going to bed. You hang out here with your ride or die mantra…talk all you want but words don’t mean shit especially if you emotionally bail. Never pledge an oath if you aren’t willing to stand by your word.” He sneered and then turned to walk away.
“Fuck you…you’ve bailed before!” she exclaimed and tossed the pan at his spine but she hadn’t put enough force behind the toss.
The metal clattered to the floor after striking his ankle. He stopped cold because he told her to chill with throwing stuff. Besides, she wasted the best dish she ever made. “Tranquilo –ahora nena!”
She ran at him, pushing at his chest. “Shanda…she meant a lot to me, more than you’ll know!”
“More than me, apparently!”
“Stop it. You know how much I love you.”
“It doesn’t sound like it chica…in fact it sounds like you’re blaming me for everything wrong. Do you think I’m responsible for Shanda’s death, huh –do you?”
“No…no!” she wailed.
“Then you’re a liar because you just implied if you weren’t with me Shanda would be alive. Sounds like you’re laying blame at my feet.”
“No…Alfonzo. Oh gosh, I didn’t mean that…I’m just venting my frustrations. I shouldn’t have said that…honey….please stop.”
He resumed walking. He had years of guilt stored in a box and her statement popped the lid.
‘Aint that some shit!’
Selange jumped from side-to-side in front of him. He stopped in his tracks. The lady rabbit blocked the stairs. The distressed pleas prompted him to reason. Maybe, guilt caused him to lash out in response. She wasn’t a liar; no, everything she said was honest. She simply spoke the conflicts of his conscience.
The fact is, he was angry because he didn’t like hearing doubt from her mouth about their relationship, especially when he considered what they had solid. This contentious situation was wearing them thin. They had to resolve their issues or lose everything they fought hard to keep during this grieving process.
Trust.
“Al, I’m sorry. Please don’t twist my words.” She hiccupped.
Whenever she started that hiccupping, that was an indication she was on the verge of hyperventilating. He figured out her condition was caused by caring too damn much.
“Selange, calmarse nena…lo siento…take a breath,” he said in a gentle voice and spread his arms wide. “Ven aqui...come on…babe…ahora nena.”
She plastered herself to his chest and apologized. “I’m sorry honey, I didn’t mean what I said.”
“Yes you did,” he responded candidly. His thumbs were windshield wipers for her tears. He planted a kiss to her forehead. Going back in time wasn’t an option. Besides, he wasn’t willing to let her go because he couldn’t. That ship had sailed. They shared a lifeboat; they’d either sink or swim –together. “It’s okay…we’ll work through this.”
She nodded. “I know we will.”
“You can’t break now babe…I know how much you loved Shanda, but you have to keep it together for the kids and Carlo, feel me?”
Another nod and a sniffle. “You’re right.”
“I’m in this car with you, riding shotgun. We lost a passenger, but I’m strapped in. I’m the baddest ride or die partner you can have. When shit pops off I’m busting shots to cover your fine ass, comprende?”
“Yes.” Selange chuckled and then tucked her head under his arm. “You’ll cover my butt and not my head, that’s not wise, is it?”
“I’m covering every part of you, now what?”
“That’s better.” She wanted to tell him then about Sophie’s confession but she couldn’t. She had to find out if Geovonna’s mom killed Shanda. She wouldn’t rest until she did. If she told Alfonzo and Geovonna’s mom was behind Shanda’s accident, he’d tell Giuseppe who would exact revenge but she wanted to handle the problem. Killing that woman if she murdered Shanda was the equivalent of vengeance therapy. “Do you still love me honey?”
“Dumb question, of course I do.”
“Even when I’m a mess?”
He chuckled. “You’re hard to like when you’re drunk. Thank goodness that’s not a regular occurrence because I swear I’d have you in rehab.”
She sang an Amy Winehouse tune but she changed the lyrics. “If you try to make me go to rehab I’ll say no –no –no.”
“Don’t forget the artist died.”
She put her arms around his neck and he lifted her up. Her legs were around his waist and she pecked kisses on his neck and face. “The only addiction I have is you.”
“Yeah?” he asked with a lopsided grin.
“Um-hum.” A sucking occurred at his neck. “I’m hungry for my Al sweetie pie.”
He balanced the extra weight and climbed the stairs. “You mentioning food after you threw away the best thing you ever made, why babe why?”
“You liked it?” she asked as a tear dripped off the edge of her nose.
“Sure did,”
“Are you telling the truth?”
“Scout’s honor,” he replied with a wicked grin.
“Well scout, is it okay if I come in your tent and play with your wood?”
He couldn’t travel fast enough. She sucked on his neck, tongued his ear, massaged his scalp, bumped and rotated her midsection and caused intense sexual friction.
“Sí, you can do anything you want nena.”
/> They were in the bedroom now. The door was nudged closed with his heel. She slid down his body before he could dump her on the bed. She had his shorts around his ankles, aiding in his state of undress. He stepped out of the undergarment and she gripped his legs, licked his thigh, and then went right to oral manipulation. She caressed his scrotum which brought a smile that broadened when she worked her fingers in simulation of massaging dice. He let her work, she was an expert at making him feel good, but the urge to penetrate her twat made him pulse. The thrill he received as her tongue lathed up and then curled in descent sent sparks to the crown of his penis. He flexed, when she sucked hard and shivered like a junkie. Beads of heated sweat appeared at his forehead, not from an exercise, but a burning arousal.
Alfonzo couldn’t remain inactive. He liked to receive, but the fun was in the giving as well. He slipped from her lips, brought her upright by the arms and kissed her until she bent at the spine. Hard and raw is what he wanted.
Make-up sex is the hard liquored kind of drunk.
Alfonzo’s hand bypassed the crotch of her panty to tease her clitoris with his fingers. She moisturized his digits with natural lubricants. Eager and ready to burst he twist her around, put her face down in a cop maneuver, except her legs were on the floor. That ass clad in shimmering white didn’t want handcuffs, but loving. The minx poked out her bottom and he tore away the barrier of flimsy silk. Selange exhaled but didn’t say anything. Whenever he damaged her shit, the penalty was a replacement gift of lingerie. Unlike Giuseppe, he often paid for what he destroyed.
She cooed his name. Oooh, he loved the husky sound and the way she reached back impatiently to rub the side of his tush. Encouragement is good, he thought before sliding a hand to her belly and pressing inward as he entered between her thighs with a firm push. Up and in to where his fingers were creamed by viscous human honey was the destination. Her arms went wide to grip the rumpled covers when he hit the G-target. She moaned loudly as he made her ass jiggle from the force of copulation. Her hips rotated in a futile attempt to maintain pace. She failed because he was on a high that required mas chocha.
“Oh hun….oh,” she pant several times.
Her head thrashed to and fro as she pulled the linen loose from the mattress when he plunged deeper.
She moved forward to escape, crawling on to the bed. “Nah…nah…nena…ven aqui,” he said while following and bent over her kissing her neck while going back in. Alfonzo wanted to laugh because there wasn’t anywhere on earth she could run. The futile attempt to get away from his dick was funny. His palms clamped her breasts, squeezing them and only a fraction of strength was used to keep her subdued. She had nowhere to go except against him and that’s what he wanted.
That’s right babe, lean on me. I got you chica…I got you!
Her head lifted with hair flying wild and free. She moaned each thrust as he kissed her shoulder, and then twisted her face to the side to meet his tongue while creaming like a dairy. Fused in heat with sounds of breathing and skin; the love-making sounds were muted slaps. Alfonzo kneed her thighs further apart.
Selange trembled because she strained to hold the position Alfonzo choreographed. A squat is what he had her doing and he became the human lounge chair to sit on. Her buttocks were cradled atop muscular thighs, taut and strong. She reached between their legs to massage his genitals coated with her honey until he occupied her fully and sealed her closed with heavy strokes. The slides out are the times she could grasp his rod and feel the sticky residue of their mating. He liked that shit and the friction when her fingers tried to hold on going in the opposite direction leading to his meaty sack and the end of the road.
“Come on nena…that’s right babe,” he groaned after her legs quaked and he thought she was done.
Uncontrollable flutters resulted when she clenched and sponged his dick and polished it with muscle to make it glisten like his prized rides.
Pressed flesh to flesh, he caressed her throat and allowed her to bite his fingers. He withdrew to lay her supine and smiled wickedly at her and then kissed her abdomen before burning a trail to her valley with his tongue. She pushed at him, squirmed, squeezed his shoulders and called him loving things unlike the days before. He slid up the length of her torso, and fingers traveled the nape of her neck to her hair. His fingers formed a fist in the thick strands and brought her head forward to meet his mouth, and their teeth collided. Nibble kisses, succulent and strong was the sex battle taking place.
Didn’t she know depriving him of her pussy was a form of punishment for an addict?
Selange tugged at his arms, pleading to feel his dick and he kissed her with furious want, before he obliged.
The thunderous tempo of bodies were African drums. She quivered in fierce rapidity and clutched him around the neck as his body became her coat of muscled skin. Selange’s flesh was slick to the touch. His fingers slid across the smooth contours, liking the contrast, enjoying the feel of her body, wanting to remain attached, because the tight cavern oozing over sensitive flesh was too damn good.
“Please…promise me,” she said in the throes of ecstasy.
“Promise what nena?” he asked as he bowed to kiss the slope of her breast as she clutched tighter.
“Promise you’ll go to Calabria. We can go together. Promise honey, please!”
Alfonzo erupted, holding her until he emptied and the vibrations lessened. He had to catch his breath. He planned to fuck her again after he had some rest.
Whoa, is that what has her twisted?
He didn’t want to make a fool’s promise. He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d get the time to visit a dismal house with bad memories of blood and carnage seeping under doors. But he’d agree if she came along, maybe, yeah maybe she’d bring good vibes. “Okay, as soon as I have free time, we’ll take a trip there.”
“No, make the time. You’ve delayed this with excuses. Honey…” She kissed his neck and cupped his face. Attached they’re breaths were in unison, rapid and deep. “I could feel emotion in what he wrote. There’s a reason he entrusted this to you.” She blinked, imploring eyes seared him through. “Oh honey, let’s grant this wish of his. He felt such guilt as a boy that he couldn’t be there to protect his family. What heavy burden for someone to carry their entire life. He wasn’t the best father, but you are a good son and despite how you feel about him, he loved and trusted you to honor the family, okay?”
Alfonzo stiffened. A violent kick to his gut resulted in a rush of breath that moved her hair. He broke out in a cold sweat from the eerie reminder of pleas from a dying man. Her impassioned speech touched his soul. “All right, after Sergio’s wedding we’ll go there.” He lay supine clutching her like a security blanket. His mind went to another time when he feared she had died. Oh mercy is what he was given.
He caressed her ass. Her skin was firm and soft, just like her spirit.
“Nena, I need a promise,” Alfonzo said to her skull covered by ebony thick hair, curled from the moisture of their bodies.
“Okay,” she answered with her cheek pressed to his heart.
“Promise no more of this sexual withholding crap. When you do that babe, it puts a distance between us that grows so wide that I think I’m unloved. Governments, businessmen, vindictive people use extortion as a tactic to get what they want. At home babe, this is the only place I have peace. Don’t put conditions on intimacy or our love, all I want is to hold you sometimes, it’s not always about the sex, feel me?”
There was a nod, followed by an apology. “Damn, I feel you. I solemnly swear to uphold the duties of my office, which is to love my husband, give him punany and feed him so he never leaves the house horny or hungry, all right?”
Alfonzo laughed. “The food part you can take out, I’m sorry babe but I think Allie cooks better.”
She slapped his cheek and they play wrestled.
The chica fought dirty, oh yeah.
But of course, Alfonzo won, he had the bigger muscle.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dinner with a lovely woman and an ocean scenery as a curtain was rather romantic. Giuseppe hoped the ambience aided in his attempt at seduction. However, the lady of interest ate in silence, avoiding his eyes unless he spoke. He asked of her hobbies, her career and perfunctory answers without so much as a smile are what he received.
Annoyed to work so hard when he thought himself charming, resulted in a bruised ego wider than the sea. Why not seek other company he considered, each time her eyes returned to places that were not human.
“Am I that repulsive,” he asked finally, rising to be done with the catered assortment set for a king and queen.
Nicole took a sip of wine. She would not tell him he made her nervous or that she felt awkward alone in his presence. In fact seated at a piano is where she was more at ease. She wasn’t the social butterfly, an introvert she’d been called at times because she preferred the company of music.
She did not really think he was ugly, in truth he was very attractive and that accent if she wasn’t careful might illicit a thump. She could tell he was trying and decided she’d open up a little.
“No you are not repulsive.”
Giuseppe returned to his seat. “Bene.”
“You have a beautiful yacht.”
“It is borrowed. I will tell my cugino.”
She smiled. His direct speech was refreshing. Men lie easily, taking credit for stuff that wasn’t theirs, but, he hadn’t and she supposed that’s because a wealthy person could buy a yacht if he chose and Giuseppe chose not to.
“Cugino, does that mean cousin?”
“Sí, my English is so-so. My famiglia lies and says it’s good.”
She chuckled. “Family tries to not hurt our feelings. I guess that’s how they demonstrate their love.”