28. Fresh Sun on a Clean Pssy
Fresh Sun on a Clean P*ssy
Bianca
“Ican feed myself.” I push Benny’s hand away.
“Try it,” he urges.
“No.”
“Bianca.”
“Salvatore,” I challenge. “Y’all might be cool with raisins in your food, but they don’t belong in mine.”
The spoon breaches my mouth. Lemon bursts through toasted breadcrumbs, pine nuts, and parsley with parmesan.
And these damn raisins.
His mouth lifts. “You done talking shit?”
“Nope.” I open for another bite.
Never have I ever eaten sardines with raisins and anchovies stuffed together. Plot twist: It’s delicious.
Benny has been a stage-five clinger since we left the markets earlier.
The hovering hasn’t stopped, not since he asked me six times if I was okay or when he let Hades and Ares follow me into my room.
They take after their daddy by not letting me have a moment of peace.
Imagine how hard it is peeing, let alone showering, inside a quaint bathroom with two freaking Cane Corsos.
I’m fine, but this helicopter hostage soothing isn’t helping Benny beat the allegations that something is wrong. While I’m not exactly a hostage since he’s now paying me, the fact remains he’s clinging. I want answers because I refuse to play Helen of Troy for anybody.
“How did you become a crime boss?” My question travels over the pesce spada alla siciliana he slides onto my plate. If his legitimate businesses and illegal activities don’t pan out, he has a future as a chef. Swordfish, olives, and capers could never with me.
“My uncle,” he says lowly, his focus on the dinner he made. “I joined shortly after my parents got killed.”
“How old were you?”
He keeps his eyes on mine when he says, “Eleven.”
My stomach somersaults. I was playing with 90210 dolls and still reading The Baby-Sitters Club books when I was eleven. Stories of kids around the way falling into gang life weren’t uncommon, but eleven is young.
“Did he…did your uncle force you into the life?”
“It was my choice. The Scilari formed in response to the Preda decades ago. They were in the middle of a war. Once my parents were gone, I wanted to keep my grandmother safe and kill every person involved in their murders.
“They owned a store in a Palermo market similar to the ones I took you to today. My father refused to pay protection money and organized with other business owners to go to the authorities.” The grip on Benny’s fork tightens.
“It was an act of defiance that cost him and my mother their lives. Tino’s grandfather made an example of my parents. ”
I rest a hand on his thigh. “I’m so sorry, Benny.”
Shoulder to shoulder, we sit in silence at the dining table on the covered balcony. The sun fades behind green hilltops, streaking the sky in orange and pink pastels.
“Did you ever get the people who took your family away?”
The chain around Benny’s neck waves in the candlelight. “I killed Tino’s grandfather when I was twelve. His father was at university abroad and put an end to the war as the new don.”
I frown. “So why is there still tension today?”
Benny’s bare chest falls through a heavy sigh. “The little shit has something to prove as the youngest of two sons. I have no issue with the Preda if they stay out of my territory. He’s been working with an outsider. For what, I don’t know.”
Just my luck that I’d land in the middle of a mafia beef.
Red wine coats my lips with aromatic notes of plum and spice. Benny pulled the same bottle he had the first time he’d cooked for me.
“What will you do when you retire?”
His gaze slides from me toward the citrus grove. “Move to Mazara del Vallo to fish.”
“Was your father a fisherman?” I ask.
“His father too, and my great-grandfather. My mother tolerated it, but she hated baiting a fishing hook.” He laughs to himself. “We used to chase her around with live bait until she kicked us out.”
“I don’t blame your mama one bit. Guts in my face is a nonstarter.”
Benny chuckles at my scowl. “My parents led a simpler life. I watched my father do what he loved and adore the ground my mother touched. I envy it sometimes.”
“Because of who you felt you needed to become?”
He holds my stare before looking away. “What about you? Why human resources?”
I sip my wine. “I enjoy helping people. HR is a necessary function in organizations, and it makes an impact. If I influence culture while problem-solving to make life a little easier, I’m happy. I’m good at what I do.”
“You are.” His lips brush my temple through a kiss.
My stomach does a swan dive at the gentleness of his voice. It matches his eyes sweeping over me like I’ll complete an impossible mission without asking Tom Cruise for help.
“Maybe I’ll stay in Sicily if this is the thanks I’ll get for doing my job,” I giggle.
“I wouldn’t mind,” he whispers.
The air thickens.
“Careful, Benny. I’m starting to think you like me.”
He offers a faint smile. “Your nickname is growing on me.”
“As it should.” I nod to myself. “It’s about time you recognize—“
His kiss shuts me right up. He teases my lips apart to chase my tongue and groans. The noises this man makes are criminal. My coochie stutters.
Benny’s mouth moves over mine. His knuckles graze my jaw before he wraps a hand around my throat. I gasp at the kisses showered over my lips. He pulls me to my feet and lifts me in the air, pressing our bodies together.
“What about the food?” I ask between breaths.
He dips his tongue into my mouth. “I’ll feed you again. That work?”
“Uh-huh.”
We never make it to his bedroom.
The sweet aroma of honey and yeast tickles my nostrils. Hades sniffs the air from the foot of Benny’s bed.
Gruff.
“It does smell good,” I say with a yawn and wince at the ache between my legs. I’d eat the refrigerator if I could make it to the kitchen.
Benny had my toes touching my forehead last night. Arms, legs, and ass tossed in the spin cycle of his stamina. We kicked the dogs out after Hades bit him for mounting me. He and Ares weren’t the only ones howling at the moon.
My personal security guard pops to his full height. His egg roll of a tail wags against his silky black coat. Hades comes inches from my face, head tipped in question why I’m still in bed.
“Because of your daddy,” I mutter.
All attempts to sleep in had ended in a painful lesson.
Hades popped me so hard I almost swung back from reflex until I saw those black eyes.
The weight of his paw would’ve concussed me if my braids hadn’t absorbed the blow.
Benny had already gotten up to go wherever he went, leaving me face-to-face with a hundred twenty-pound Cane freaking Corso.
Hades nudges me until my bare feet hit the tile, warming from the rising sun filtering through the balcony doors.
“I’m up.”
I’m also naked.
I pull the blanket off the edge of the bed. God knows where my dress is.
My new companion bumps me with his massive build on the trip back to my room. There’s no privacy to pee, brush my teeth, or wash my face. He responds to non farlo, “Don’t do it.” Otherwise, Hades ignores all of my personal boundaries.
I grab my silk butterfly robe and kitten heel slippers to investigate the source of the divine scent. Hades zeroes in on the open window above the sink and a tray of brioche buns resting on the sill.
Gruff.
“I’m hearing you.”
My co-conspirator snatches two buns out of my hands before disappearing out of the open side door.
“Share with your brother!”
He didn’t hear a thing.
I grab a small plate and pack it with buns and fruit to take back to my room. This new peace calls for my morning ritual.
Fresh sun on a clean pussy is my kind of therapy.
I rest my kitten heels on the railing, legs spread, lips free, and chin angled to the sky.
My thighs part at the streams of light rolling over my breasts as heat seeps into the sunscreen I applied and travels up my neck.
It kisses my jaw in a slow drag over my braids in a high bun.
A few days won’t recharge the battery I spent twenty years running into the ground. I count the time I’ve been with Benny. It hasn’t been days; it’s been weeks.
Time flies when you’re not running for your life.
I frown at a life without pleasant weather, bread, and him. I’ll miss Benny once I leave. All the more reason to enjoy my time left here, one with nature and these snacks.
Bougainvillea stirs above my crown of braids. I shift in the desk chair I brought out to the balcony and exhale.
Benny’s house is breathtaking.
Green hills.
The woman in the yard.
“The hell?” I push my sunglasses onto the bridge of my nose.
Sweat and curiosity prick my brow at the random lady seated in a chair. Her hands are in her lap, her mahogany face barely visible from a lace shawl covering her hair.
Like that damn woman who caused chaos in that family’s yard.
Alfred aside, only four people care for Benny’s house. The citrus grove on the other side of the property has more employees, but they don’t come over here. No one arrives before seven, least of all an apparition facing my balcony.
The figure’s head tilts in my direction, her gaze cutting through the distance.
That’s a damn ghost.
I scream, titties bouncing, ass clenched tight enough to hold quarters. Just hooting and hollering, naked on a balcony.
The figure stands, and I scream again.
“Black Jesus of Nazareth!”
I’m not thinking when I grab my empty plate and send it through the air.
“Minchia!”
Benny grabs the side of his face. He’s shirtless, sweat glistening on the deep cuts of his muscles over his tatted chest, rising through hard breaths. He glares at my eyes lowering to his legs and that package in black shorts.
“Nonna would like to meet you,” he says, next to the woman half his height.
Nonna?
“Your grandmother?”
Benny’s mouth curves. “Put some clothes on, Trouble.”