8. Evelyn
”Alessandro,” I whimper his name as the firm softness of his tongue curls around my clit.
His fingers are pulling another orgasm out of me. The climax is powerful and long overdue. My eyes water, my core tightens, and my head slams onto the mattress with my back arching into the air. I have no idea where the blanket is or where Alessandro tossed that pillow.
All I know is I want to feel every inch of him fucking the shit out of me, but that”s something I don”t want to do. I can”t. This is just a thank you for being compliant. So I take it. I take every flick of his tongue, every suckle of his lips, every drag and dip of his fingers inside my walls until I can”t contain the sounds emerging from me.
Alessandro quickly moves his mouth off me and pulls himself on top of me. His fingers are still stroking me. I need to return the favor. The heaviness and warmth of his cock against the palm of my hand eases my lustful angst.
My sweet center thinks she”s going to feel this, but I”ll make sure it doesn”t go beyond this mutual handful of pleasure. When his mouth crashes onto mine, I grip him tighter, eliciting a growl, but our passionate kiss continues. He fingers me feverishly as I stroke him faster and faster.
The kiss is the only thing keeping us silent until I come once more, and he holds me still as his climax spills into my hand.
For fuck”s sake. If this is what getting each other off feels like, I can only imagine what it”s like to actually come together, him inside me, claiming every inch of my body for himself.
We fall onto the bed, both staring up at the ceiling of the bedroom where he grew up. A twinge of embarrassment mixes with the air of satisfying relief.
”Wow,” I huff.
”That was intense.” His voice seems distant, and he doesn”t stay beside me for long.
The bed dips as Alessandro pushes himself up and heads out of the room with a sheet draping around his body. He comes back with a warm cloth and a towel. After cleaning up and laying the towel on the wet spot of evidence that we enjoy one another as husband and wife, we fall asleep in each other”s arms.
Sleep is welcome, falling over me as heavily as Alessandro”s arm resting across my back. However, the soft murmurs coming from his side of the bed force me to stir. It sounds like I”m dreaming at first until his words come quicker, clearer, louder.
”Don”t,” he says, and his entire body clenches with his hand gripping the blankets. His words come in spurts. ”Stop… I don”t know… I can”t?—”
The pain radiating through every syllable shakes me awake until I”m sitting up. My entire body feels like it”s on pins and needles with fear and confusion. Sweat pours over his body. It would be incredibly sexy with the way water beads down his ripped abs, but the anguish etching onto his face has his hair clinging to his forehead.
”Alessandro.” I whisper his name for the second time tonight. There”s no seduction in my tone, only worry, as I want him to wake up from whatever nightmare has him grunting through imaginary pain.
”NO! I WON”T! ARGH!” Alessandro howls and shoots up. His beautiful blue eyes are wide, and he”s out of breath, like he just finished running a marathon. He looks around frightfully until his eyes land on me. There”s confusion, almost as if he”s trying to remember who I am or why I”m here.
”Alessandro, it”s Evelyn. Il tuo dolce.” I”m desperate for him to recall the events of the last thirty-six hours. I have no idea what a man of his reputation does when he”s scared out of his wits, let alone to the person beside him.
He pats the top of my hand silently, taking slow, deliberate breaths to bring his heart rate back down to earth.
”Shit, are you okay? You scared me.”
”I”m sorry, Evelyn. I”m fine. I”ll be fine,” he assures me before pushing himself out of bed. It”s a short walk to the dresser, where he glances at his phone. I can see the sun peeking through the blackout curtains, and when he motions to open them, I nod.
”What time is it?” I ask, shielding my eyes from the bright morning sun.
”A quarter after six. We should get ready to head out if you don”t want to sit in rush hour. If you want to stop by your place to grab anything, we can do that too.”
”Let”s hang out for a bit, make sure your dad”s okay and wait for Lara to get here before we do anything.”
The best thing is to ignore the tension between us. The sexual release of last night coupled with his startling, self-induced wake-up call requires too much dissecting at this early hour. We need a good distraction.
”Okay, we have some time. I have a long day today and you have a doctor”s appointment.”
”Excuse me?” I ask.
The sun”s shining through the window, framing his chiseled physique at every sexy angle imaginable. Even as he smooths his hair off his face, stretching allows me to see the tiniest muscles under his chest, traveling down the side of his ribs toward the V-taper of his waist. There”s a hint of a scar peeking from around the back, similar to the one on his face, but much larger. He”d have to turn around for me to see the extent of it.
”Last night.” His reply is abrupt, as if I”m supposed to know what he”s talking about. It distracts me from cataloging every inch of his body.
”What about last night?”
Alessandro lets me catch a glimpse of his charming smile as he tells me, ”As my wife, I think we can take full advantage of our relationship.”
”How convenient because a few hours ago, you weren”t trying to complicate our marriage by sleeping together. Even with that backtrack, what does that have to do with scheduling me a doctor”s appointment without my knowledge? You”re behaving like my father, just ordering me to do things and expecting me to fall in line like a good little girl.”
The coy expression on his face shifts to mischief as he pads toward the bed, pressing his hands into the mattress and leaning in close enough to steal a kiss. Only he doesn”t. ”I like it when you behave, mio dolce. The doctor”s appointment is for us to get a clean bill of health. If we choose to do anything more than what happened last night, I”d hate to have anything between us.”
Fantasies explode in my mind of what could have happened last night.
My delay in responding prods him to continue. ”Unless, of course, you”d like last night to be a once and only occurrence.”
”I think we should take things as they come.”
”I”d rather take you while you come.”
I have to get away from him before we end up having sex before this appointment. Giggles this early make me feel silly. ”I”ll go to your doctor, Alessandro.”
”Good girl,” he says with a wink and a quick kiss.
We take our time getting ready and making sure Sandro De Luca is taken care of. Lara shows up at seven, prompt and ready with a list of conditions to help the Don recover faster.
There”s something wholesome about their connection, the feared Mafia Don falling in line to a nurse probably twenty years younger than him. However, the tit for tat banter between them isn”t malicious. It”s cute. I wonder how long he, and his son, have been without partners.
However, as I watch the Don and his nurse, Alessandro looks on too. There”s an ease in his energy, much different from how he woke up. It gives me pause, thinking that this is what a family morning with him could be like. I shake the images of what our future can look like, opting to focus on what the reality is. We have plans to end this marriage, and I have to keep that in mind, no matter how good Alessandro”s tongue feels.
The drive into Manhattan is a nightmare, and even worse is the trek into Brooklyn if I want to stop by my parents” place. It will be a good way to kill some time before my doctor appointment. Alessandro opts to stay at home to work while I head to Brooklyn, and Lorenzo tags along as my pseudo-Jenkins.
The home is empty as the kids are at school, my mother is running errands, and my father is probably tending to the businesses being targeted by the Montegnas. At least, I hope he is. The scent of breakfast lingers in the air as I stroll through the home. There are sneakers and toys scattered around the living room floor.
Back in my day, Ma would have lost her shit and threatened to beat us with the broom for leaving to go to school with our stuff all over the place. Courtney”s dolls are sitting in their toy car while Roman”s game controllers are hanging off their charging dock.
From one childhood home to another, I can”t help but see the similarities between the De Luca and Rossi homes. Three bedrooms each, two Families of La Familia, both have beige colored walls trickling with photographs of memories decades gone by. The kitchens are in the same spot at the back of the first floor, with a separate dining room and living room. Nothing modern about the creaking staircases that have seen countless feet go up and down.
Generations of love and betrayal touch every space of both homes. The details of betrayal aren”t necessary because the absence of people both Alessandro and I care for dearly tells the tale. His mother, God rest her soul, and my poor sister, I pray the patron Saint Michael watches over her in that hell hole that her husband left her in. Listen to me, as if being religious for the first time since my communion is going to make everything alright.
Wait, the last time I was religious happened to be yesterday, exchanging vows with my husband for a treaty between families.
After straightening up a bit, I gather a few things and head outside, where Lorenzo is standing guard. His gaze is vigilant as if someone”s ready to pounce. He rushes to my side to grab my bags and opens the door for me.
”Alessandro called and said the doctor will see you whenever you”re ready.”
”Does everyone just jump to do whatever he says, Lorenzo?” I ask him.
The way his surfer fa?ade mixes with this super soldier demeanor lets me feel safe, but he”s not Jenkins.
Lorenzo answers my question with a slight shrug of his shoulders before saying, ”I think most people realize that it”s better to do what he says when he asks nicely. Turning him down typically doesn”t end well for anyone involved and gets my car trunk dirty.”
I get into the car, but now there are dozens of questions circling my mind. I can”t stop myself from unloading a few on Lorenzo. ”How long have you been working for Alessandro?”
”I”ve worked with him for the past twelve years or so. We”ve known each other since we were kids running around Howard Beach.”
”Yeah, I saw the picture last night. What about his love life? Surely, you know about the kinds of women he likes. What can you tell me about them?” I know I”m asking for trouble, but there”s something inside me that always has to measure up, to stand out and be better.
”His love life is and always has been private. It”s also none of my business. But, if it makes you feel any better, he hasn”t dated anyone seriously since I”ve come into the organization.”
”That sounds lonely.”
Lorenzo shrugs it off. ”Power is lonely.”
With that, our conversation dies down, letting the faint sounds of talk radio fill the rest of our drive to a medical complex not too far from my parents” home.
The offices of Dr. Kathleen Bireli are the definition of squeaky clean. Every surface is so white, perfect, and the place is quiet. There”s a receptionist sitting behind the desk as we enter the waiting room. Lorenzo takes a seat in a line of empty navy blue chairs and picks up a magazine to read.
The girl has to be younger than me, and I”m only twenty-five. She has a job, and I stay home all day, cooking and baking for the family. I need to figure something out. But deciding who I should be that doesn”t involve being my father”s daughter or Alessandro”s wife is daunting.
After filling out copious amounts of paperwork, Dr. Bireli steps into the waiting area with a warm smile on her face, blonde curls tucked into a low ponytail, and piercing blue eyes that remind me of Alessandro. I”m already stripped down and in a hospital gown, sitting on the tissue paper-covered exam bench.
As she puts on her gloves to examine me, I can”t stop myself from rambling. ”I know this must be crazy to just pop in because Alessandro says so. I hope this didn”t take you away from any patients. I can come back if you”re busy. As a matter of fact, I can come back.”
”Take it easy, Mrs. De Luca. You”re fine.” She nods with a shade of arrogant nonchalance. She takes all my vitals, blood, urine, and asks me a slew of questions about my medical history.
”The receptionist has the contact info for my GYN and my primary in case I”ve forgotten anything. How long does it take to get the results back?” I ask her once we finish.
”A few hours. We have a lab here. It helps maintain confidentiality and minimize leaking of records, visits, et cetera. All in all, everything looks good, but we”ll wait until the results come back to be sure. And you”re on birth control already?”
”Yeah, good old implant,” I tell her, tapping the top of my arm.
She nods. ”Okay, if you ever want to change methods or have it removed, feel free to stick with your GYN, or you can call me anytime, Mrs. De Luca.”
”I don”t like the way you say that, or maybe it”s the way I”m hearing it. Did, or do, you and Alessandro have something between you two?”
”I apologize if my tone alluded to anything like that because no, we don”t. We”re just two peas in a fucked up kind of pod. You”ve got nothing to worry about from me, honey. Any more questions? About your visit today?”
”No, that”s it.” I thank her and leave the office with Lorenzo by my side every step of the way. I can”t stop thinking about what Dr. Bireli said. What the hell did she mean? It”s driving me crazy to the point that when Lorenzo pulls up to the brownstone, I”m anxious to get inside.
He”s in his office when I burst through the door, ignoring his rules. It draws a raised eyebrow from him as he sits behind his desk.
”What”s wrong?” he asks.
”What”s the fucked up pod you”re a pea in?”