Chapter 38
38
T he Honeymoon, Harlem 1949
Amidst the whirlwind of sexual pressure and pleasure, she lost all sense of direction—until the soft crush of rose petals beneath her bare back brought her into the moment. Carmelo eased her bloomers down, his fingers trailing fire along her thighs.
Then his touch went between her thighs. He found her. The gentle massage he gave sent currents of pleasure rippling like waves from her aching core up through her tummy. She gasped when his touch became lighter and playfully teasing. How did he know she’d like this so much?
Kathy, lips parted in a silent “O”. No book—dryly clinical or wildly exaggerated—could have prepared her for the entry. His finger slipped inside, a sharp breech, his nail scraped her tender walls, unfamiliar intrusion that made her vaginal muscles tense, the walls of her pussy sweat. At the same time, his mouth was on hers, lips there, covering, tongue delving and sweeping around to distract her from the discomfort and the awkwardness of his probing finger. He was as eager and erratic as a summer storm. His tongue explored before tracing the shell of her ear, then trailing down her neck in slow, worshipful kisses.
She kept her eyes shut tight, afraid that opening them would break the spell—or worse, reveal her nervous discomfort. Her body was a mystery, even to herself, and every nerve hummed between painful uncertainty and aching need. But his hand was patient, two fingers now inside of her, stretching her mercilessly, his breath warm against her skin, as if he had all the time in the world to learn what worked for her.
When Carmelo’s mouth found her nipple, his teeth grazed the sensitive bud as he teased it into his mouth. He moved over her, his fingers withdrew, his erection pressed between the lips of her vagina, moved in a way that created friction, sending heat and shaking waves of delight that made her rotate her ass. Her thighs trembled as pleasure built, hot and slippery, while he alternated between sucking one nipple and the other, murmuring about how she felt, how much he wanted her, how he loved her.
Kathy smiled.
And then it happened.
He entered her with a force that nothing before had prepared her for—his member half-way into her vagina from a single hard thrust. The sudden pain surged through her, making her cry out and clutch his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Kathy," he said, freezing in place.
"No, I'm fine," she replied, trying to mask her discomfort.
He kissed her trembling lips as more of him entered her. Her pelvis rose to meet his movements, and they soon established a more harmonious rhythm. Both breathed heavily, their bodies naturally taking over, and she hoped the pleasure would soon replace the pain before their first time ended.
He collapsed on top of her, and Kathy resisted the urge to push him away. Instead, she held him close, sharing in his discomfort.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
* * *
Making love had been sweet, filled with gentle uncertainty and shy exploration, the innocence of their youth transforming their first intimacy into something sacred. Kathy quietly slipped from the bed first, her bare feet padding softly across the worn wooden floor. In the cramped bathroom, she washed carefully, heart still fluttering. From down the hall, Debbie’s laughter mingled with Matteo’s playful curses, their boisterous love an echo of simpler times. Music floated gently from José’s room, adding a nostalgic rhythm to the union he and Samuel shared in the night.
When Kathy returned, Carmelo stood silently and took his turn. Alone again, she quickly set their modest picnic, lighting candles that cast flickering shadows over their simple meal. Her hands trembled slightly, but she steadied herself, determined to make this moment perfect.
Carmelo reappeared, a towel hastily wrapped around his waist, water still glistening on his shoulders.
“Where are your shorts?” Kathy asked softly, feigning sternness.
“Don’t need 'em,” he teased with an impish grin.
She rolled her eyes, her cheeks warming as she handed him the wine bottle. “Can you open this?”
Carmelo tugged at the cork with his teeth, popping it free. “Never really had wine, except for communion,” he admitted shyly.
“Me neither,” she laughed, raising her glass. “But we’re adults now, right? Married folks have wine on their wedding night.”
The bitter taste made her sputter, and Carmelo choked, laughing alongside her. “Maybe it's spoiled?”
“I'd rather have water,” she said softly, setting her glass aside and picking at the lukewarm pasta and sweet meats. They ate quietly, stealing glances, their faces illuminated by candlelight.
“What’s on your mind?” Kathy finally asked, noticing his distant, wistful smile.
He shrugged slightly, eyes softening. “Thinking about when you first told me about pecan pie. I asked Mama Stewart to make some—she said she didn’t know how.”
“I’ll bake one for you someday. Promise,” Kathy whispered.
Carmelo’s gaze grew earnest. “Someday soon, this won't have to be secret. We'll be legitimate, Kathy—I swear on my life.”
She pressed a gentle finger to his lips. “Not tonight. Let’s not talk about tomorrow yet. Please.”
He nodded, reluctantly agreeing to her fragile request.
“Tell me about boxing,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “It seems so painful, so dangerous.”
He glanced down at his body, tracing scars silently, each one a memory of his father's rage. “It helps with the anger,” he admitted quietly. “Gives me control.”
“This one’s from Pa. The ankle’s from jumping out that bakery window.”His voice dropped.“Got a fight next week. Training starts tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“My father wants it. It’s part of our plan to get close to him, to make things change, Kathy.”
She reached for him.“You’re not a fighter. You’re?—”
“It’s for you.”His eyes locked onto hers.“Winning a belt means traveling. Getting closer to you down South.”
Her chest ached.If she ran, her father would pay. If she stayed, they’d bury her next to her family.She forced a smile.“Read any good books lately?”
“Brought something special for tonight—Lovecraft’s 'The Call of Cthulhu.'”
“That sounds scary,” Kathy murmured, then hesitated. “Ely reads…” Her voice trailed off.
The air thickened.The words hung between them.
Carmelo’s eyes darkened slightly. “He doesn't like me much, does he?”
“I don’t want to fight about Ely!” Kathy sighed.
“He doesn’t like me? Doesn’t approve of us?” Carmelo's voice grew tight. “At first, I understood. I wanted you protected down South, to have a friend when I couldn’t be there. But then I saw the way he looked at me. It's not about me being Italian—it's about you. He loves you.”
“No! He's just my friend?—”
“Don’t lie, Kathy!” Carmelo shouted.
“You’re ruining everything.” She stood abruptly in her nightdress.
Carmelo rose quickly, towel slipping slightly before he caught it. “I'm sorry. I'm just jealous—insanely jealous. Ely has your family’s approval. Suppose I looked like him, all of this would go away. Your father would accept me. My mother and your mother would be best friends. There wouldn’t be an issue anywhere for us to love each other. You have no idea how much I want that.”
“What do you want from me, Carmelo? Yes, Ely said he loves me. He’s told me more than once. And I told him I love you! More than once!”
“Have you kissed him?” Carmelo’s voice trembled.
She stared, shocked.
“Have you?” he demanded again.
“No, never! I told him no,” Kathy said, eyes filling with tears.
“But there's more, isn't there?”
“Don't make me say it…” she pleaded.
“Say it, Kathy!” he insisted, stepping closer.
“My Daddy wants me to marry him,” she confessed softly. “He wants me to go back to Mississippi, marry him, have a baby, then he can get your father to lift the price he put on my life!”
Carmelo froze, shaken. Kathy lifted her tear-streaked face. “My family is broken, Melo. My Daddy’s life has been in danger since the attic. My parents need each other, and they both need me. I love you with my soul, but I can't let my daddy suffer, die, or be shamed and chased out of Harlem because of us.”
Carmelo pulled her close, holding her as she wept. “There’s another way,” he whispered fiercely. “I promise you, I’ll find it,” he murmured against her hair.
When the tears subsided, they lay together quietly, Carmelo softly reading Lovecraft’s eerie tale to her as she curled closer, escaping briefly into fantasy, away from harsh reality. Then they made love again, gentle, tender, their whispered vows healing their fears and doubts. Vows no one could sever.
She slept soundly beside him, peace lingering through their final night together.
Too soon, dawn approached. Debbie knocked urgently, reality returning sharply. José had gone for Ely, signaling their time was up.
Carmelo gently dressed her, comforting her with soft whispers and brave promises. Their final kiss was heartbreakingly tender before she vanished down the stairs.
Outside, Ely stood waiting, unable to meet her eyes. Kathy glanced back at the apartment window, knowing Carmelo watched hidden behind the curtains. Her heart clenched tightly as Debbie softly reassured her, “It’s gonna be alright, Kathy. It has to be.”
“Yeah,” Kathy sighed, leaning her head onto her cousin’s shoulder, “it has to be.”
* * *
“You ready? We get back before Ma’s done with breakfast. She might not even know we left,”Matteo said, already halfway to the door, pulling on his leather jacket. Carmelo didn’t move.
Matteo turned, scowling.“The hell’s wrong with you?”
“She’s in trouble. And I can’t fix it. I ruined her life,”Carmelo muttered, staring at the floor.
“She’s pregnant? That fast?” Matteo laughed. When Carmelo didn’t smile, Matteo’s laughter faded. “Christ, Melo, you just married the girl under our Pa’s nose. We won.”
“ Not really. This was just paperwork, in case we ran, not a real wedding. For any of us!” Carmelo said.
“Speak for yourself. While you were upstairs, me and Debbie had our wedding. I had to think of something, vows, quick to calm her down.” Matteo grunted.
“This is all a game to you!” Carmelo said.
Matteo began cursing in Italian.
“You ain’t listening. She’s pullin’ away. She doesn’t believe this can work anymore. And soon… she’s gonna stop believin’ in me.”
Matteo crossed the room in two strides, grabbing his brother by the shoulders.“Snap out of it, huh? We got a plan. Solid.”He shook him once, hard.“Tonight, Pa’s throwin’ that party at the club. All the Dons’ll be there. He announces your fight, your shot at the belt. And me?”A sharp grin.“Pa finally gave me a real job.”
Carmelo stiffened.“What kinda job?”
“The kind that makes me useful. The kind that gets me made.”Matteo’s voice dropped.“I see cracks in Pa’s armor now, kid. DeMarco too. We can take ‘em down—but you gotta hold it together. And Kathy? She’ll hold on. Trust me.”
Carmelo wanted to. Desperately. But his gut twisted like a knife. Still, he forced a grin, clapping Matteo’s arm.“Yeah. Let’s go. Make Ma happy, play nice tonight. We’re good.”He swallowed the doubt, squaring his shoulders.“Hell, we’re better than good. We’re Riccis. Best damn stock in Brooklyn.”