Chocolate and Italian Wine (Music and Mayhem Book 1) (19 page)

“I can’t let it go, Paolo,” she said, wiping the tears as he pulled her in close, wrapping his arms protectively around her body. “I killed someone. I can’t get over that.”

“Baby… the bastard deserved it. The only thing I regret is the effect it’s had on you. You’re all that matters to me.”

“Yes, but you’ve never killed anyone,” Kari said. “And what about Wolfe? Look what he had to do, taking the blame for me…”

What would she think to know he’d killed many times?
“Wolfe is fine. He’s your bodyguard. He knows what he signed up for. Wolfe would take a bullet for you, Kari. Don’t underestimate his loyalty. He did what he needed to, and now you have to let it go. Say a prayer for the bastard’s soul and live your life knowing he no longer poses a threat to it.”

“That’s so cold,” she said, rubbing her head. It hurt a little and she felt bleary.

“No, it’s not. It’s how you survive this. He was a fucking creep, and if I’d have arrived sooner and found him there, I’d have killed him with my bare hands.”

“Okay, stop. There you go sounding gangster again.”

They stared at each other. “What?” he asked.

“How come you say things like that?” she asked, cocking her head.

Thoughts raced though his mind of telling her the truth, and even though he loved her and felt that it was owed, he wanted pussy right now and his confession was sure to spoil that.

“I’m a man, Kari. He fucked with the woman I love. I hope he’s in hell.”

She stared at him skeptically. “I love you, Paolo,” she said. “Make love to me.”

Yes!  The words were magical. He kissed her, and nothing mattered but the fact that they needed each other. Damn, he loved her. He loved everything about her. Lost in their kiss, her hands wandered up and down his broad back, as his lips moved to her breasts. Taking a pert chocolate nipple into his mouth, he suckled it as though it was lactating the sweetest nectar.

Moaning, she arched into him, forcing him to take in more of her breast. Stroking his muscled bicep, she opened her legs wider as Paolo moved on top of her. He cupped her other breast in his hand, and, as if it called to him, he turned his attention to it. “Yessss,” she hissed. He trailed his tongue down her torso, flattening it as he licked back up to her breasts.

“These tits make my dick so hard,” he said to her, rubbing that big thing on her thigh. He felt like hot steel. So smooth, velvety soft. She reached down to stroke it. “Ahhh,” he moaned. He placed his hands on her thighs and opened her wide. Moving back down and pressing his nose to her pussy, the heady fragrance of her arousal made the need to be inside of her urgent. He groaned something in Italian that she didn’t understand but thought to ask about until… his mouth kissed her opening.

That talented tongue of his, danced all over her clit and pussy. Kari’s legs widened more for him. She rode his tongue as he thrust it in and out of her, causing her beautiful features to contort in ecstasy. She grabbed his thick hair, pulling his head back as he feasted on her ravenously. She tasted tangy sweet. He wanted to stay between her legs, she was so sexy. He watched her as her head rocked from side to side and she moaned the sweetest song. He felt drugged by her scent. When her left hand reached for her breast and began flicking the nipple, he growled, “Touch those tits, baby, let me see.”
Damn, her pussy was so wet
.

She wiggled her sweet body over the bed, bunching the sheet, moving her ass in circles. Those hands, that mouth. Her clit, her pussy. Soon, the sweet agony was too much as Paolo’s tongue continued to beat her into submission. Her climax had her in a chokehold. Paolo continued to lap at her, tasting her juices as her body spasmed above him. “Mmm…,” she was biting her bottom lip, attempting to close her legs.

Paolo smirked, satisfied that he had pleased his woman. Moving his large frame back up her body, he lay on top of her, kissing her deeply. “I love you, baby.”

Kari tasted herself on his lips and tongue. She thought that she would pass out from the eroticism. His hand cupped her face. Their tongues stroked one another’s slowly as he slid his rock hard member into her. Soo wet… “Kari, baby, your pussy’s so soft.”

“You’re so big,” she moaned, feeling the fullness of his cock.

“You like this big dick,” he groaned sinking deep inside.

She gasped. “I looove it.” He started stroking.

“I love this sweet pussy soaking my dick. This is my pussy.” He stroked harder.

“Ah, yeah, all yours baby.” He sucked her tongue into his mouth. She moaned.

“This pussy is otherworldly…Ahh!…This is some… alien pussy, baby. Soo fuuucking good,” he groaned, latching onto her neck with his teeth. She opened her mouth to cry out, but instead started laughing.

“Oh gawd, alien pussy!” she exclaimed, laughing really hard, her muscles pushing him out. “That’s so stupid!”

He looked down at her and howled with laughter, too. “Stop, you’re messing with my flow. I was in the zone.” He went back in.

“This isn’t interracial love, baby, this is interplanetary love,” she played right along with him as they continued giggling and stroking.

“Mmm, I love you, so much,” he chuckled. And just like that, the mood turned serious again. They came together, praising the moon, the stars, and the planets.

They stayed connected for a while and then he pulled out of her slowly, kissing her lips. “I’m thirsty, are you?” She nodded. “Water?”

“Sounds refreshing,” she told him, smiling. She rolled over as she spied him walking naked to the bar. Look at that. Gawd, he was beautiful. She quickly ran into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

As the warm water ran, she splashed it on her face and tidied up, then made her way back to bed. Paolo was sitting there with a bottle of Perrier and had turned it up to his mouth, gulping it down.

She drank from his bottle and handed it back, then snuggled her head onto his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. It felt so good, so safe. His hand caressed her hair.

“You make me feel so happy, Paolo.”

He looked down at her.  “I want to make you happy, Kari. Not just here,” he said cupping her between the legs, but here,” his hand covered her heart. I want to fill this space so completely that I’ll be your waking thought every morning, and your final one, every night.”

“You are, Paolo, it’s only you.” He kissed her, and chills ran down her spine. Pulling apart, they smiled into one another’s eyes.

“So, are you ready to meet the Montovanis today?” he asked, with mischief in his voice.

“I think so. Anything I should know? They gonna be mad you have a black woman? Should Wolfe and Jamil be ready to rumble?” she giggled.

He swatted her butt. “I can’t see anyone caring about shit like that, babe. They’re all probably wondering how the fuck I got with Karisma Montgomery.” She looked away and smiled. “How nervous do you get before a concert? All those screaming people focused on your every sound, your every move. How does that make you feel?”

She rubbed his thigh. “I used to get nervous before every concert when I was a teenager. But as soon as I turned twenty, the pre concert jitters left. Now, I get into the music, the songs, and the dancing. It’s almost spiritual. The adoration of the crowd just spurs me on. On the nights when I really connect with them...it’s magic.”

“It’s amazing. It really is. You’re amazing. You work hard, baby. I don’t think people realize how much work goes into the Goldust machine,” he said.

“They don’t. They just wanna party, and that’s okay,” she said.

He looked at her. “Sounds good to me,” he said, wiggling his brows at her.

“What?” she asked, pulling back a little.

“Let’s party, baby,” he said, flipping her underneath him and grinding down on her.

“Mmm, yeah, let’s party,” she moaned as their hips met again in passion.

17

Sierra knocked on the bedroom door of the luxury suite of The Grand Hotel Vesuvio in Naples. “Come in, Sierra,” Kari called out.

Sierra’s fluffy head of hair peaked around the corner as she opened the door. “You look rested today.”

“Thank you, I am. Come on in.”

“I brought you something,” Sierra said, extending her hand out and showing a brown paper bag.

Karisma walked over to accept it. 

“The doctor wants me to remind you not to deviate from the dosage. You haven’t, have you?” Sierra asked suspiciously.

“No, Sierra! I’m taking it as prescribed,” Karisma replied emphatically.

“Okay…” Sierra said. 

The way she said it put Kari on guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Karisma asked confrontationally with her hands on her hips. 

“Kari, you’ve gone through a bottle in two weeks,” Sierra said. 

“Look, I’ve been through a lot here. In case you’ve forgotten, I had a stalker, who broke in and got killed in my room. Hell, I have nightmares, you know that. I need these to stay up and working. The sleeping pills make me feel so… fuzzy,” she said. “I hate feeling like that.”

“I’m just worried about you,” Sierra said earnestly. “These can be addictive. You’re already taking the sedatives—” 

“It’s fine. Don’t worry,” Karisma said curtly. 

She opened the pill bottle and went to the bathroom for water. “I need all the energy I can get,” Karisma said after she swallowed two and walked back into the bedroom. “I can’t sleep without the sleeping pills, but I feel tired when I wake up. I need these for that,” she said, shaking the bottle of amphetamines.

“Yes, you already said that,” Sierra said softly. She knew this was dangerous territory and she changed the topic quickly, because she liked her job. “Everyone’s gonna be here in a few to get you together.” 

“No, change of plans. We’ll do it at the stadium,” Karisma said. 

Sierra quickly began tapping on her phone. 

“As soon as this kicks in, I’ll be straight,” Kari ran her hands through her wavy-curly hair.

“Well, okay then, I’ll let you be. You good?” Sierra asked on her way out.

Karisma could tell that Sierra was thrown off a bit and she was not about to welcome any conversation that may challenge her and the decisions she was making. No one understood her or what she was going through—no one, not even Paolo fully got it. “See you in a bit.”

Once Sierra was out of the door, Kari went to sit on the bed and breathed in. She could feel her body waking up and becoming more alert, but it wasn’t happening as fast as it used to. “I think I better take one more,” she said softly.

                                            ***

Paolo knocked twice on the bedroom door before he opened it. “Hey, Pop,” he said as he approached his father with his hands shoved down into his pockets. 

The elder Montovani looked up and smiled as his third son entered the room. “You look like a man in love, Giampaolo.” 

“Giampaolo? I know what that means, I’m in trouble. What did I do now?” Paolo asked, laughing a bit but still quite serious.

His father chuckled. “You are always Giampaolo to me.” Raffaelo took a seat on the edge of his bed and slid his feet into his shiny black Italian loafers.

Paolo smiled, always admiring his father’s shoes and the way they were polished to the nines. “Nice shoes, Pop.”

“Senore Onofrio makes the best shoes in Reggio.”

Paolo smiled at his father. A creature of habit, Raffaelo still had his shoes specially made. Like his handsome sons, he prided himself in his appearance. He was still quite dapper. 

“So, we meet your songbird tonight,” Raffaelo said, removing something Paolo couldn’t see from a beautifully shined shoe. There was a question lingering in his comment.

“Yep. I think she’d love your pizza. Make it and I’ll be in like Flynn,” Paolo teased.

Raffaelo looked at his crazy tongued middle son and shook his head. “Since you moved to America, I need a translator when we speak. Who is this Flynn?”

“It means she’ll be all mine,” Paolo said. 

“Ah, that is what concerns me,” Raffaelo replied.

“Why is that?” Paolo asked sensing his father’s apprehension.

“She may be your songbird, but our family’s ways require much more than a beautiful face and voice. You know this.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Paolo asked. From the way his father positioned his hands and stared at his shoes as if he was looking for a speck of dust indicated that he was choosing his words cautiously.

“Don Vittore has gone to the council. He wants them to decide whether or not you should be allowed to back out of your commitment to his daughter,” Raffaelo said. Paolo started to interrupt but his father held up his hand and silenced him. “The meeting will take place next week and I am not going to collapse down to his plans. I’ve been more than fair. However, Paolo, I need you to think with more than just your anatomy. Be smart about this…”

Paolo looked directly at his father. “A Bianchi can never best a Montovani. When the time is right, their family will be forced to acknowledge this.”

“You’ve made yourself public, and not at a very good time.”

Agreeing with his father’s assessment, Paolo sighed in and began to pace the bedroom. 

“I don’t blame you, son. He’s planning a war; there’d be no other reason for him to go to the council.  We were once very good friends. But that’s no more. Not just because of this thing between you and his daughter. We’d grown apart over the years. I intend to inform the council of our own intentions. We are a very powerful ‘Ndrina. Whether it’s sanctioned or not, we move ahead with our plans.” Raffaelo shrugged his shoulders, not impacted by the direct statement in the least. He’d grown up in that environment and he knew the rules, just as Vittore Bianchi did. After another pause, Raffaelo added, “I could see years ago that you did not want to marry that silly girl, but I ignored it.”

Paolo nodded. “Shall I accompany you to the meeting?” he asked.

“Yes. You understand how this works, don’t you? In the end, the Bianchi family will slip into extinction,” Raffaelo said in a rather blasé voice.

“I understand,” Paolo said. In deep thought, he was trying to assess all the possible consequences and repercussions of this.

“Giampaolo, soon your responsibilities to this family will be even greater than they are.  A man in your position can never afford to be distracted. If you truly are determined to pursue this relationship with the songbird, then this is where a man like you must put into place the barriers that will protect the woman you care for from the world you a part of,” Raffaelo said with a dramatic wave of his hand. “These scales you attempt to balance…Hollywood, Italia…weigh heavily on both sides. My question to you is, how do you intend to counterbalance the two?” He eyed Paolo, seeing if he understood what he meant.

Paolo had walked over to the wall of the bedroom and was leaning against it, his arms crossed and one leg over the other.

His father continued on. “I have never known the two worlds to coincide successfully. Are you avoiding the relentless paparazzi? The less contact, the better. Your picture is being taken far too much. Your mother tells me you have a fan club on social media, that you are referred to as a beautiful Roman god, and that people are predicting that when you and the songbird have children they’ll be so beautiful that crazy people might be tempted to steal them.” 

Paolo’s mouth was agape. “What? That’s insane,” he said, shaking his head. 

“What are you hoping comes of this, son?”

Paolo smiled a little. “Comes of what exactly, Pop?”

“Your songbird, our family. How do you propose to balance the two? Is this the fling of a lifetime, this thing you have with Karisma Montgomery? Or do you want something more permanent?” Raffaelo asked.

Paolo walked over to his father, who had just stood up, and adjusted the older Montovani’s tie. “I have no intention of dismissing my responsibility to this family, Pop. I know what’s expected. But, I also have absolutely no intention of walking away from Karisma. She’s in here now,” he said, pointing to his heart.

He backed away from his father, looking at the blue striped silk tie. “I’m introducing her to the family today. That should tell you that I’m serious about her,” Paolo commented, stroking his neatly trimmed chin hairs.

Raffaelo studied the young man, the one who was best suited to lead the family.

“Is she also serious?” Raffaelo asked.

“We’re in love, Pop.”

Raffaelo nodded. “I see. Does ‘I love you’ mean the same thing in Hollywood as it does in Italia?”

“It means the same thing everywhere, Pop,” Paolo told him, growing tired of the conversation. 

“Does it? She doesn’t know who the man she loves really is. I know you haven’t shared that,” Raffaelo said through narrowed eyes.

Paolo sighed. His sapphire eyes darkened as he spoke to his father. “I haven’t, Papa.”

“Not even, during pillow talk?”

Paolo shook his head.

“Good. Only a potential wife need know,” his father said cautiously.

Paolo smiled in spite of himself. “Are you asking me if I want to marry Karisma Montgomery, Don Raffaelo?”

“I’m asking nothing of the sort. You just cancelled a wedding. It’s okay to date her, Paolo. You think you’re in love. We all feel that way while in the throes of passion. Perhaps after a little time has passed, you’ll think more rationally about this relationship.” 

“I’m not going anywhere. I don’t think she is, either.”

              “She doesn’t know this world. One day you might feel it necessary to disclose who you are. Be sure you know
her
before you ever do.”

Paolo nodded, unconvinced that he should ever tell her. He didn’t want to risk his love with Karisma for anything on earth.

                                         ***

Karisma’s phone rang as she was about to put it away. “Hello?” 

“Sup, shorty.” She was wired.

It was Ray. She frowned. “Hi. You must have a reason for calling me, Ray. What is it?” Karisma asked shortly. 

“Hey, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d come by and say hi,” he chuckled, ignoring her tone. 

“In the neighborhood? What? What are you talking about?” she asked with more force than was necessary.

“I’m downstairs. Come down and have a drink with me,” Ray urged. 

“Why are you in Italy? Do you have a concert or something?”

“I’m a guest on Italian Idol. The show’s tomorrow. Come on down. We can shoot the shit. As friends,” he added.

“How did you know where I was staying?” she asked suspiciously. 

“Ain’t hard to find you, girl,” he said. 

Karisma was feeling slightly high, but she didn’t want a drink. She couldn’t go downstairs because she didn’t want to be mobbed.

“No. I don’t want to come downstairs to meet you. I don’t want anyone misreading us being together,” she said, pulling her hair back. She suddenly felt very sexy. How long until Paolo was back?

“How bout I come up there?” he asked. 

“Not a good idea, Ray.” 

“I know that pretty muthafucka ain’t up there. Is that why you don’t wanna see me?”

“I don’t want to see you because you’re an ass. We’re not friends. I don’t want to sit down and shoot the shit with you,” Karisma said with attitude.

“I come all the way out here to see you and you treat me like a fan, girl. You gonna do me like that?”

“What do we have to talk about, Ray?”

“Let me come up,” he coaxed.

She stood debating. It was a bad idea but she didn’t trust him to not make a scene down there. What was the worst of two evils? “Whatever. Come on, Ray,” she sighed.

As soon as she hung up with Ray she called Sierra and Valerie to get into her room immediately. She didn’t want to be alone with him.

Raymond Bryant walked into that hotel suite with swagger for days. She remembered why she had been attracted to him. He was great looking. But he was no good. She hadn’t forgotten. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he said as he bent to kiss her cheek. 

He looked over to see both Valerie and Sierra sitting on the sofa preoccupied with their usual pastime. Smartphones and tablets in hand, the women looked up when he entered the room.

“Sup, ladies,” he said, giving them both a peck on the cheek. 

“Have a seat,” Karisma said. Ray sat on the couch and she sat in an individual chair next to him.

“You’re looking good, Ray,” Valerie said. 

“Yes indeed. You been working out, Ray? Those biceps are bulging,” Sierra added.

“Been pumpin some iron,” he said, proudly. “Kari seems to like big muscles all of a sudden,” he said and winked.

The other ladies grinned along with him. Karisma sat back, folded her arms and frowned.