Fredo's Dream: SEAL Brotherhood: Fredo

Home > Other > Fredo's Dream: SEAL Brotherhood: Fredo > Page 9
Fredo's Dream: SEAL Brotherhood: Fredo Page 9

by Sharon Hamilton


  He swore but was much more pleased with this “normal” sendoff. He started laughing to himself and then remembered one more thing and ran back to the window. “There were two things I struggled with. You won’t believe what the second one was.”

  “You wear pink women’s underwear and were hiding it from your wife.”

  “In your dreams.”

  “Not my dreams, asshole.”

  “I actually learned to get used to tofu and stir-fry vegetables. I actually got to like the taste of some green in my diet. Can you believe that?”

  Coop shook his head and started the vehicle, shouting back, “Go fuck your wife, Fredo, and quit pulling my leg.” He drove off with a low rumble, screeched his tires at the corner, and was gone. Just before he disappeared, he held up his middle finger.

  Fredo knew he’d remember this day. This would be the day he’d come to grips with being a father, a real father. Well, he was a real father to Ricardo. But Ricardo was part of Mia and came with Mia, and so he was easy to love. This new little one he was going to pretend was part of his own flesh, and it didn’t matter what she’d tell him or what any doctors had to say about it. He would make it so through sheer force of mental energy.

  The sky was blue, the morning warm. They’d not spent the night in Sonoma County but had left after dinner and driven all night. They both gladly gave up sleep to get home to their wives. The trip had been good for him. Now he was thrilled to be home at last.

  Birds chirped. The steps to their Spanish stucco bungalow were freshly swept. It looked like she was taking after her mom, Felicia, because new red, white and blue flowers of different varieties were planted along the rose-colored walkway. His heartbeat echoed throughout his chest cavity and made the soft tissues under his chin vibrate with every stroke. He hadn’t called her ahead of time because he wanted to be the surprise.

  Peering through the small iron-grated window, he didn’t see anyone inside, but heard salsa music. It was a common routine for her. Maybe if he got lucky she’d do one of those little numbers in front of him, lifting her shirt for a quick peek at her large brown areolas. Or she’d bend over and show him that exquisite ass of hers. His fingers tingled with the anticipation of what that smooth flesh would feel like as they stroked and explored her lovely body. She was perfect in every way, inside and out.

  But there was no dancing this morning. He heard a voice in the backyard and noticed the curtains at the sliding glass door from the bedroom were flying in the breeze. That meant the door was open, which probably meant she was in the backyard. He pressed his finger on the front door latch and found it to be locked.

  He never carried keys, always leaving his extra set at home, for some reason. Just could never remember them. So he made his way along the side of the house, opening the wooden gate carefully so he could surprise her.

  She was on her knees, using the seat cushion for protection, planting some yellow flowers. She had gardening gloves on. She owned only one pair of shorts, and they were very short white cotton that hitched up, showing more than they should have, her ass making the perfect heart shape. He focused on that as his blood began to boil.

  Sitting next to her, also kneeling, was the muscled body of some other guy. Some guy who didn’t look anything like Fredo. He hadn’t had acne in high school, so his back and shoulders weren’t scarred. No ugly pinup tats or iron crosses or barbed wire or Gaelic sayings. He was smooth and he was huge, probably bigger than Coop, more like T.J. or Rory. His short black hair and neat moustache made him look like he was military. And then he watched as the man reached in front of her to grab a plastic container with little plants. In front of her!

  She reared back, nearly to her heels to avoid the brush of his arm against her breasts, but Fredo knew he must have touched her, because she swayed to her left at the waist and put distance between their upper torsos.

  Fredo heard an apology, as the man put his hand on her shoulder, the other on his chest as if professing love for her, despite the apology he was spouting. She smiled and coyly lowered her shoulder to allow his hand to slide off.

  But in her side profile, he could see she was blushing. Uncomfortable with his attention? Or uncomfortable with her own feelings?

  Fredo dropped his duty bag with a loud thud, thankful he’d brought his long gun. It was just a fleeting thought. A quick determination that whoever this person was, he was the enemy. Maybe this was the man she was having the affair with. This could be the man he had to kill.

  Mia and the other man—a handsome man with dark features and latte complexion like a cover model, shirtless, with arms the size of his own or perhaps larger—stood and abruptly turned. The look on Mia’s face wasn’t one of excitement.

  She was in panic.

  Chapter 11

  ‡

  MIA RAN TO Fredo, her mouth in anguish, as tears flowed down her cheeks. He knew her insides were in pain, but not nearly as much as his.

  “Ah, Fredo, mi amore,” she moaned, her arms outstretched, fingers splayed. Her cheeks were puckered up, her eyes mere slits as she raised her eyebrows and squinted. He caught her by the forearm, holding her a distance away from him without looking at her. He was looking at him.

  The guy walked backward a step, wiping his hands on the back pockets of his jeans. He leaned over, retrieving his shirt and slipped it over his head quickly. Fredo thought he looked even bigger with the shirt on. Mia was struggling, but he held her wrist almost to the point of causing pain. He couldn’t look at her yet until he decided what he was going to do with the guy, because it had nothing to do with her. It was between him and the guy.

  “Who is he?” Fredo asked her while he kept his eyes on the stranger, without loosening his grip.

  “This is Joel. He’s a friend of the landscaper, one of his crew. He just stayed to help me get these flowers in.”

  “Um hum,” Fredo said, visibly scanning him from foot to the top of his head and then back down again, like he was a big green lizard standing on two feet. He didn’t like anything he saw, even though he’d calculated exactly where he could kick the man and disable him for more than a few minutes, which would give him time to do whatever else he needed to do with him.

  “Sh—she’s right,” the dude said in clipped English. Although he didn’t have an accent, he sounded foreign. “Carlos is her landscaper—”

  “My landscaper because I own this house with her. This is the house me and my wife occupy, so if there is a landscaper who works here, he works for me, which means you work for me too, if you work for her. Get my drift?”

  The man was beginning to shake. He swallowed hard, tried to hook Mia’s glance, but she was only looking at her husband. She stopped struggling, but Fredo didn’t let go or look at her still. She remained silent, perfectly still.

  “That means if you fucked her, you fucked me and that really pisses me off. I don’t like to get butt-fucked.”

  “Fredo!” She wrenched herself loose, or rather Fredo allowed her to disentangle. He waited to see if she’d go over to him to protect him. That would speak volumes. But Fredo wasn’t ready to look at her. She retreated to the side, halfway between both men, and looked down. He heard her cry. That wasn’t going to work.

  “Mia,” he said as an order. “Not now. Now you’re gonna tell me exactly who this guy is who dares to sit next to my wife and feel her up in front of her husband.”

  “He didn’t do that!”

  That made Fredo turn and face her. The dude started to dart away, and Fredo put a hand out. “Stop! I’m not done with you.”

  He focused back on Mia. Lowering his voice, like he was speaking to a child, he asked her, “Mia, now tell me why this man is here.”

  “I wanted to surprise you with the pretty backyard. We worked all day here. Mom took Ricardo so I could work with these guys. They did the house across the street, remember? You said they did a good job, so I hired them to do—”

  “With what? How did you pay them?”

 
“I haven’t yet. But I was going to write a check. I just wanted to get it all done so you would come home and see how pretty everything was. Why does that matter?”

  Her tears were still silently falling down her cheeks. He changed his gaze back to the man who flexed and unflexed his hands.

  “Sir, I am an honorable man.” There was that funny feeling again. Fredo didn’t trust him, feeling he wasn’t who he said he was.

  “Where are you from?”

  “I’m from here. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you’re home alone with my wife.”

  “I work for the landscape service.”

  “This right?” Fredo asked his wife.

  “Yes, my love. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. The only day he’s been here is today. I am so sorry, Fredo. You are completely correct. It was stupid of me to have him here at my home without you being present.” She halved the distance between the two of them as she inhaled and lightly growled her answer, her voice cracking. He could feel the warmth of her delicate breath on his face, making the hair on his neck and upper chest stand at attention. Her fingers on his forearm did him in. “Honest, Fredo. Please, I do not deserve this, but please forgive me my love.”

  The words had the desired effect. He felt himself melting from the inside out. He wet his lips and then turned to see her pretty face, not more than a foot away from him.

  “Please,” she repeated. Her lips were full and red, her watery eyes were pleading with him to soften still. He could smell her hairspray and the muskiness of her female sweat mixed with the body crème she rubbed on her chest and neck each morning. She barely moved, but somehow came up alongside him, just slightly pressing her breasts into his upper arm and her mound into his thigh. It was just enough to let him know she was surrendering to him, but not enough to be obvious to their guest.

  One look at him, and Fredo was angry again. “I wanna see some I.D.”

  The man reached for his rear pocket and extracted a thin wallet with nothing in it but some cash and a school I.D. Remarkable was the fact that he had two twenty dollar bills, and no credit cards, insurance cards or even discount drug cards. And no driver’s license.

  “So you are—” Fredo squinted at the crude typewriter spelling of the name. It was a temporary Student Body Card from San Diego State University, “—Joel Hernandez?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Fredo! Give him back his wallet! This is silly.”

  “Sorry.” Fredo gave the wallet back to the young man.

  “No, no, sir. I don’t mind.” Now he was looking all Joe-College. “You can ask me all the questions you desire. Please. It was my intrusion on your space. I am very sorry.”

  Fredo still didn’t trust him, because his English sounded non-native, but without an accent. Fredo would have punched him in the gut if he so much as looked at Mia, but the guy never snuck a look to check her out, just kept his focus on Fredo or his hands as he placed his wallet back.

  “So you were born here, then?”

  “You would be correct, sir. Sacramento. My mother was pregnant with me when we arrived twenty-two years ago, as refugees. I am born here, so I am a United States citizen.”

  “What are you studying at San Diego State?”

  “Well, currently I’m enrolled in Nursery Science. I hope some day to build many fields of olive trees. Perhaps grapes.”

  Fredo didn’t think the man posed a threat, and he believed his wife that they were but strangers, but he had to take precautions. Something still nagged at him. “Joel, why don’t you have a driver’s license?”

  “Because I do not drive. I just haven’t had time. And my family cannot afford a car for me. Neither can I. I walk or take the bus.”

  Fredo let it pass. “Joel, you are never to return to this house to work, is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir. I am so sorry, sir.”

  “Even when I’m, home. You’re not welcome here. She got it wrong. No one comes here when I’m gone, or when I’m here, you got it?”

  “Yessir.”

  “You may go. But the next time I find you here in my backyard, you’re going home in a body bag. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

  “Indeed, sir. Yes, you do.”

  “That’s all. Get your stuff and get out.”

  “Thank you, sir. Welcome home.”

  Fredo had started toward Mia, to take her in his arms, but hearing the welcome home made him stop short. Alert and fully focused on Joel, if that was his real name, he asked “Home? Who told you I was away?”

  “I did,” said Mia. “I wanted everything finished by the time you came home. I thought you’d call me, Fredo.” Her eyes were honest.

  Fredo lingered on how beautiful she looked, now fully under her power. And he’d been a dumb fuck not to think about what she said when he was away. He had to have that talk again. The wives and girlfriends had to be forewarned. “You can go, but you heard what I said.”

  “Yes, sir. I will not come back. Ever. No worries about that, sir.”

  Joel stepped up to walk through the bedroom open slider and Fredo stopped him, pointing to the wooden gate at the side of the garage. “That way, kid.”

  “Of course,” said Joel. In seconds he’d grabbed his jacket and a square purse he slung over his chest, and was gone. Fredo nearly called him back to search the purse, but decided against it.

  They heard the gate click. His fingers laced between Mia’s and he led her to the side yard to make sure the gate was indeed closed and properly latched.

  “So he walks home?” Fredo asked.

  “Yes, he walks. I see him all the time. Sometimes he rides a girl’s bicycle. But mostly I see him walking or waiting for the bus.”

  “No more, Mia. No one comes into our house when I’m gone. Only police or rescue crews. I will never send a repairman or someone to fix something when I’m not home to fully check them out. We can’t be too careful. You will never have anyone I do not know here when you are alone, understood?”

  “I understand. Oh, Fredo, I am so sorry.” She threw her arms around his neck, nuzzled her forehead under his chin, pressing herself against his chest and moaning as he could not stop one of his hands rubbing over her butt cheek, then sliding under the fabric to lightly rub and then squeeze her flesh. His worries faded as his desire for her kindled.

  “Are you angry with me?” he whispered to her ear. He knew he sounded needy. His voice was all gravel and lust. Her body softened and began to tremble.

  “Not now. And you are very right. I was so stupid, Fredo.” She kept her fingers entwined at the back of his neck as she pressed their thighs together and she arched back to look at him. Her breathing had picked up tempo. Her face was becoming hungry. She licked her lips, focused on his. He leaned forward, nibbling her gently on the lips, feeling her nipples knot, her scent filling his nostrils. He kissed under her ear and she moaned again, rolling her head to the side and touching his chin with her shoulder.

  He pulled her shirt forward with a finger to the neckline to peek at her beautiful breasts all trussed and in need of release underneath, and then slid the shirt over her head. Fredo used his thumb and first two fingers to undo the front clasp of her bra. The material broke away, exposing her lovely flesh. His mouth watered to suckle, to taste her, to smell the dark crevices of her body and make her flesh burn with passion.

  She drew one hand down, cupping one breast and offering herself to him. He was mesmerized at the sight of that flesh in her hands, bent and took her nipple deep inside his mouth and sucked until he knew she would feel it all the way to her core. With her other fingers, she smoothed his ridged forehead, lacing them through his scalp above his right ear.

  “Yes, my love.”

  “I need you, Mia,” he said between kisses. “You are mine and always will be, sweet Mia. I need to know I own your whole body.”

  “Of course, Fredo.” She held his face between her palms. “Why would you ever doubt that? You are the only man w
ho has my heart. You stoke the fires inside me. You bring me your love, and now you bring me your seed.”

  He wanted to look down, perhaps take another long pull at her nipple, but she held his face firm.

  “Your seed, Fredo. You, a little piece of you grows inside me. Do you understand how that makes me feel? I am a vessel of your love, Fredo.”

  He really wanted to believe it, and even told himself she’d been faithful. But he put it out of his mind as an irrelevant fact. Right now he was going to forget the reality of the past, and focus, like Zapparelli, on the future they had together. Whatever was done could be forgiven in the lush jungle of her arms. Every kiss would make him more and more certain he was created to love Mia, and she was his and always would be. There would be time enough for the truth. Tonight it was about the pink baby fantasy of their love, and the miracle it gave them both.

  Chapter 12

  ‡

  SHE WAS FULLY naked, her fingers lost between her legs as she watched him undress. She bent her knees and showed him her pinkness, rubbing a finger up and down her slit, circling her nub and taking short pants at the pleasure it brought her. He liked that she wanted to arouse herself in front of him. Her uninhibited way with her body as she let him examine her, and the way she freely gave herself to him made him feel more of a man. She was not a girl. She loved with the passion and intensity of a full grown woman, every bit the woman to his manhood.

  He stood at the foot of the bed, his cock fully erect, filling in girth and length as he watched her pleasure herself, squeeze her breast with her other hand and then place her fingers in her mouth to taste her own arousal. That’s what spurred him forward. Before she had a chance to lick and swallow that away, he needed to taste her hotness on her lips, feed from her, savor the magic that was her juice.

  He climbed on top, positioned her arms over her head and secured her wrists with his fingers. Stretched and arching to meet him, her thighs found his hips as she lifted herself up into him, enabling him to seat himself at her opening. He let the head of his shaft lick the tender moist folds and lazily encircle her bud, inching dangerously close to the entrance. Her breathing was became labored. Her eyes were opening and closing dreamily, her focus somewhere else, yet accepting him fully and attempting to climb his hips higher, begging for penetration.

 

‹ Prev