46. SCARLET
The next day…
It's hard talking to Dad on the phone and yet not talking to him at all. We both know that the other knows, but this isn't the time to have a real discussion about what happened with Mom, which makes our conversations more or less awkward.
Thankfully, Antonio assured me that the trial would end soon, and then Dad and I would have time for a real talk.
I refuse to think about it further because tonight, Antonio is taking me out for dinner. My excitement of finally getting out of the house is so great that I spend hours grooming myself and deciding what to wear.
"I thought you said nobody can see me yet," I ask when I walk down the stairs to meet Antonio by the door.
"You look stunning," he replies, holding his hand out for me to take. "And don't worry, I've got everything under control."
I don't think he has seen himself in the mirror yet, because talking about stunning…
my heart makes a little flipflop, and my stomach goes all warm and fuzzy.
Is there anything sexier than a man in a suit?
This one is all gunmetal gray, with a white shirt underneath and a silver tie.
It must have been custom-tailored for him because the material hugs his shoulders to emphasize their width.
His pants are just at the cusp of being too tight for his solid quads, creating a familiar pulse on my clit at the memory of those legs between mine and the delicious bulge in between inside me.
He shaved, and his hair looks like it has just been cut and styled. Green eyes take me in from head to toe, and the gleam in them sends another wave of pulsing pleasure through my sex. Good grief, can a man get any more handsome?
"Right back at you." I stare at him, probably with the same hunger in my eyes as his.
"You're not supposed to compliment a man." He smiles.
"Yeah, well," I shrug, "what can I say? I'm biased."
He pulls me in for a deep kiss, "Careful, passerotta, or we might not get where I want to take you."
"Where are you taking me?"
He nuzzles my throat, and I have trouble keeping a moan in.
"It's a surprise, come." He takes my hand and leads me out the front door.
I haven't been through this door since he took me shopping weeks ago. My already overexcited heart picks up the pace.
The night air is cool, and a breeze works hard to mess up my carefully arranged hair. When I hear the sound, though, I realize this isn't just any breeze; it’s wind stirred up by the helicopter.
"A helicopter ride?" I pull on his hand, fully animated now.
He smiles and yells over the noise of the rotors, "Not just any helicopter ride; this is my flagcopper."
"Flagcopper?" I grin, yelling as well. "I'm pretty sure that isn't a word."
"It is now."
I'm stunned speechless when we enter the luxurious cabin. I've never been on a helicopter before, but I sure as hell didn't expect this kind of luxury.
Six leather seats—no scrap that, recliners—line a gleaming round table. Behind them is a small bar. Everything is upholstered in subtle beiges and blacks with gold adornments. The walls are also padded with leather.
"This looks like a private jet," I observe.
He laughs, "Wait until you see my jet."
Sure. Private jet. Check . I let out a small snicker to alleviate my rising nervousness. Easy Scarlet, easy. You'll get used to it , a little voice whispers, but I think it's lying. I don't think I'll ever get used to the kind of luxurious life Antonio is opening for me.
He leads me to one of the recliners, and when I sit down, I feel like I'm enveloped in a cloud. Everything is so soft and smooth that I can't keep my eyes from roaming.
The black bar is lit up by dim lights, giving everything an intimate glow. Windows line the walls by the entrance and opposite it. A door by the bar leads to places unknown. It really doesn’t look like a helicopter.
The doors behind us close, silencing the roar of the motors above. Peaceful quiet surrounds us, and I watch him go to the bar. "Champagne?"
I think nothing short of a hard whiskey will calm my nerves right now, but nod, before I remember, jellybean . Shit, I really, really need to find out. "Uhm, I think I'll have a club soda."
He suppresses a small chuckle, disguising it with a cough, and busies himself fixing my club soda. My suspicion that he's up to something grows, but then I chide myself, of course he's up to something, he's taking you to a fancy dinner .
A disembodied voice announces, "Good evening, Mr. DeLuna. We're ready to take off in two minutes. The flight will take forty-five minutes."
It distracts me enough that I miss Antonio pouring us drinks. When I take mine from his outstretched hand, he clinks them together. "To a wonderful evening."
All I can do is nod and take a sip. He's managed once again to awe and make me completely speechless.
He sits beside me. "Buckle up for takeoff."
He puts his glass on the table. "Allow me." His hands fiddle with the seat belt, creating warm sensations through me as his fingers brush against my dress.
We take off, and my eyes are drawn to the windows.
"Oh, Antonio," I cry, staring at the star-sprinkled night sky. "It's beautiful."
A few minutes later, he says, "You can take your seatbelt off now."
I do and lean forward to get a better look outside. Up above us, I can see more stars than I've ever seen before, and below us, there is darkness. Not complete, though. I can make out the outlines of trees and, now and then, lights from a house hidden between.
That is nothing compared to the lights that glow on the horizon.
I'm aware of Antonio watching me, but I can't rip my eyes from the light show coming into view. White and red are the head and taillights of cars on a freeway, surrounded by more houses as we leave the trees behind. And then I see it: the first lit-up high rise of New York City.
"We're going into the city?" I turn to Antonio.
He nods, takes my hand, and kisses my fingers. "I want this to be an unforgettable night. Our first date."
He's right. This is our first date! We married before we ever had one. "It's not a real date when you know you're going to get laid at the end," I correct.
"Will I?" His eyes gleam with mischief. Irresistible. I lean forward and kiss his lips.
"There's not much you can do to fuck this up," I tease.
He pulls me into a deep kiss. His hands run through my hair, while my arms sling around his neck, mussing up his.
"Behave," he pants after a few minutes, "or I'll fuck you right here, right now."
I look at the comfy seats and grin.
He shakes his head. "Oh no. We're just beginning."
"We're about to land," the same voice from earlier announces.
"Be a good girl and buckle up," he chides while rearranging his dick in his pants, his erection obvious.
"Yes, sir," I mumble, and he looks up sharply.
"Scarlet," he warns.
I giggle.
The helicopter gently sets down on top of a high-rise. He unbuckles me and takes my hand. "Come."
We bend underneath the rotors, despite them being up high enough that we're in no danger of becoming decapitated, and I marvel once more at how soundproof the inside of the chopper is as the droning chop-chop creates a cotton feel in my eardrums.
He takes me to a metallic door guarded by two of his men that leads into a small elevator area. Soft music plays as we ride down. I take the opportunity to smooth out my hair, but so many strands have escaped my painstakingly arranged updo that I don't have much hope of recreating it.
"Leave it, you look stunning." Antonio steps behind me, and we look at each other in the mirror. Good grief, we make a striking couple.
The golden, form-fitting dress I chose is strapless, with a deep V cut.
Two shell-shaped cups come up high enough to hide my breasts but allow a generous glimpse of their roundness.
The material gathers around my hips before it glides down my legs.
A long slit gives my legs the freedom to take actual steps instead of having to hop.
One of Antonio's hands splays over my stomach in an almost possessive way, eliciting a flutter that is more than simple sexual attraction.
He leans forward, nibbling at my ear, and his deep breaths arouse my desire for him anew.
I wonder if there is a pause button we could push.
I'm not against a quick romp in the elevator.
And now that I'm thinking about it… a deep ache spreads from my pussy.
Ding !
The doors open. Maybe on the way back? The idea of him fucking me in the elevator is just too tantalizing.
"This way, Mrs. DeLuna." My heart does a little skid.
I don't think I'll ever get used to being called that name.
He puts his hand on the hollow of my back and gently leads me through the empty foyer of one of the most luxurious anterooms I've ever seen.
Aside from two of his men by the doors, there is no one else here.
Even the desk by the entrance is empty. Outside, a long, black limousine awaits.
Another guard is already holding the door open, while four more stand around, looking intimidating.
"Here's the tricky part. Hide your face here." He presses me against his chest and lifts his jacket to cover me; I giggle as we run toward the waiting limo.
I've been in limos before, so despite the extravagant trimmings, this, at least, is something semi-familiar.
An open bottle of champagne sits in a bucket of ice, complete with a white towel wrapped around it. Two glasses wait to be filled.
I slide down the bench, and Antonio follows right behind me. He fills two glasses and hands one to me. "Ready for a night to remember?"
The ache between my legs lets me know that all I need right now is his dick filling me to make this night memorable, but I know he has this all planned out, and I don't want to spoil it for him. But he had better be ready for me to jump his bones as soon as dinner is over.