Chocolate and Italian Wine (Music and Mayhem Book 1) (9 page)

She stretched out underneath him, her pussy accessible and her nipples erect with excitement. Paolo went for her breasts, licking and kissing them, desperate to accept her invitation. His hand cupped her intimately, and a single finger invaded her wetness. She arched her back and pushed her pelvis into him. “Where’s my fucking rubber?” he growled, pulling out and away from her, and feeling around the top drawer without looking, tempted to go at her raw. 

Clawing at him, she desperately needed to feel the touch of his body on hers. Finally, the rubber was in place and Paolo climbed on top of her and grabbed her legs, throwing them over his shoulders. Placing his swollen cock at her opening, he dove into her tight hole with a hard stroke that made her cry out.

“Want me to stop?” he asked, looking down at her face.

“No! Paolo...baby...easy,” she panted.

               He slowed down and closed his eyes. He began to move. “Fuuck! This tight pussy is so damn good, baby!” he exclaimed, muscles tensed and a vein in his neck protruding.

”Aaahh, yeah!” She breathed, tightening her muscles around him, losing herself in passion.

“Sweet pussy,” he groaned, pistoning into her. With her head thrown back and mouth open, he knew he was hitting her spot. He secured her flesh to his, as he encouraged her to hook her ankles around his neck. She moaned when Paolo’s balls began slapping her ass. His large hands held to the backs of her thighs as he tunneled in and out of her incredibly soft, drenched pussy.

They both felt the quivering in her tunnel. Her breathing came in gasps, as did his, and she slowly wiggled her bottom, driving him insane. His head fell back too, mouth slack, as he drove into her faster and faster. Finally, he felt the inevitable loss of the battle for control. Plunging deeply into her, he felt his own orgasm emerge as they came together moaning an exquisite duet. He continued to pump harder and more intensely, making for a powerful release that was unlike anything he’d experienced. Only with her. Shaking his head, and holding her securely to his body, he glanced at Kari and saw the look on her face. She felt like he did.

Paolo fell over a trembling Karisma, breathing hard and holding her as their tongues continued to lash at the other’s and their spent bodies tried to relax. He allowed her legs to slide from his shoulders, kissing them as they fell. 

“Wow,” Karisma whispered to him with her eyes closed. 

              “You’ve put a spell on me,” he groaned, kissing her breasts. He looked up and her eyes were opened, gazing back at him. They stayed like that a long while, until they drifted back off to sleep.

***

Maria Elena Bianchi sat at the dinner table with her parents and older brother Vittore, Jr., or Vito as he was known. “What’s wrong, Maria Elena, aren’t you hungry?” her mother asked, noticing that she picked at her pasta.

She looked from her food to her mother, Donna Carlotta, and shrugged her petite shoulders. “Not too much, Mama.”

“Are you ill?” Carlotta asked. 

“No, Mama, I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all,” she said with a soft sigh.

Don Bianchi, a rotund man of about sixty-five said, “You have thoughts of a wedding on your mind, is that not right, Maria?” He raised an eyebrow while greedily stabbing at the food on his plate. 

“Yes, Papa. And other things,” she said, straightening up and pouting. “I haven’t heard anything from Paolo in several days and our wedding is coming up. He’s still off in America and doesn’t have time for me, he doesn’t even want to come home.”

“That’s because he doesn’t want to get married. He enjoys being a bachelor, dating all those beautiful starlets in America,” Vito said.

“Vito!” Carlotta exclaimed.

“What? It’s true, you all know it is,” he said, returning his attention to his meal.

Carlotta looked to Vittore and spoke in a husky voice. “Perhaps you should talk to Don Raffaelo, Vittore. There is much to do and Paolo should be here. I don’t know what the problem could be.”

Don Bianchi wiped his mouth with the napkin that sat on his lap. “I agree that he should be here for the wedding preparations. I will pay a call to Don Raffaelo to see if we can’t light a fire under his son’s cold feet. Va bene,” he said, sucking his teeth as he went back to his meal.

Later that evening, Maria Elena looked at the time.
I wonder if he’s up? 
Picking up her cell phone, she dialed Paolo’s number. It went directly into voicemail. She left another message for him.

“Paolo, it’s me again. I need to speak to you about our wedding, darling. We are getting married shortly, not even a few weeks. You haven’t forgotten, have you?” she gave a nervous laugh. “There are things to do. I’ve been leaving messages, Paolo, but you haven’t gotten back to me. I hope you are well, my love. It doesn’t matter the time that you call. I just need to hear from you. It’s been days. Well, I’m going to bed, but call me anyway. Goodnight.”

She ended the call, and sighed. Placing the phone on her nightstand, she dressed for bed. She hoped that he would call soon. She had plans! While she understood that their fathers had arranged their marriage when they were small children—eighteen years ago—she was excited at the prospect of marrying Paolo Montovani just the same. He was extremely handsome, and while she was not the most beautiful girl in Reggio, she was attractive enough. He didn’t spend a lot of time with her, and she knew that theirs would not be a marriage union of mutual love, but of family ties and business. Her father had told her, “The Ndrangheta will often procure marriages between families so that there is more kinship and fewer traitors. This merger will make our families stronger. You will find love and he will be a good husband for you, a good provider. The Montovanis are people like us.”

Maria Elena and her family were aware of this fact. So, Paolo’s extended stay in America, and his initial unwillingness to set a date to marry had caused her great concern. She was ecstatic to marry him. She loved and was very much attracted to him. Though he was kind to her, she knew he didn’t share the same feelings. But if he gave her a chance, perhaps he could learn to. She lay on her bed looking at the ceiling, willing him to call her, but knowing in her heart that he would not. She drifted off to sleep and awoke in the morning to an empty voicemail. But her heart, her heart was not empty because it was filled with disappointment.

7

Paolo walked into the bedroom with two cups of steaming java in his hands. Karisma couldn’t help but smile at him, his abs tense and defined, while he held the mugs with ease and grace. Padding behind him was a large, tan colored dog that reminded her of 
Cujo.

Karisma wasn’t a fan of huge dogs because she recalled how badly it scared her when one chased her as a kid, but the dog’s tail was wagging animatedly. It looked friendly enough…still, she sat up straight, eyeing it warily and then accepted the cup of coffee from Paolo, letting the rich java fill her senses.

“Is that a St. Bernard?” Karisma asked, still watching the big canine.

“Indeed it is. Karisma Montgomery, I’d like you to meet Butch. Butch, shake,” Paolo commanded.

The dog raised his paw to Karisma, who hesitantly took it and shook. He then sniffed her hand quickly as she dropped his paw. She raised her brows at Paolo as he grinned at her. 

“You okay with dogs, baby?” he asked her, sipping his coffee. 

“For the most part. Wow, Butch is humongous,” she said, looking at the droopy faced animal.

“Yep, he’s my buddy,” Paolo said, looking at the dog with affection and leaning down to rub behinds its pert ears. 

“Well, that’s one big buddy,” Kari said, laughing. Then she blew into the cup and tentatively tasted it. Hopefully the fact that she was a coffee snob didn’t show through. “Umm… perfect.” 

“Just the way you ordered it. Plenty of cream and sugar. Is it sweet enough?” he asked, sliding his hand from her knee down to her thigh.

She moaned and they kissed each other gently. He licked her bottom lip. The way he did that, mmm, she loved it.

“You’re sweet,” he groaned, “like chocolate.”

She closed her eyes, then reopened them and smiled. “And you, you’re smooth like Italian wine.”

“That makes us a perfect accompaniment to each other, yes?”

Before she could answer, he walked around the king-sized bed and climbed in and Butch followed him. Paolo sat his cup on the nightstand and pulled Karisma close, kissing the top of her head. “You good?” he asked in a hushed tone.

She set her coffee down on the other nightstand and then snuggled in closer. “Oh, yeah. I’m great. You?”

“Me? I haven’t been this good in a long time,” he looked her in the eye. “You okay with everything? Last night, this morning?” he probed. 

“I don’t regret anything, Paolo. I’m a big girl. I wanted you. But like I said, you need to handle your business if we’re going to see each other. It’s got to be you and me only. Nobody else,” she said, kissing his neck.

  “I can handle that. But you know, baby, if you continue to do that, we’ll be in bed all day, right?” he said to her, motioning to the erection growing inside his pajama pants.

“Sorry,” she said with a knowing smile.

“Don’t be sorry. My dick can’t control itself around you,” he replied, nibbling her earlobe. She moaned and their tongues danced again. As he moved on top of her, she wondered where he had been all of her life.

                                             ***

A few hours later, Kari’s phone rang loudly and Paolo begrudgingly reached for her bag to hand it to her. He was feeling selfish and didn’t want to share her with anyone.

Locating her phone inside, she answered it. “Hey, Fluffy. What’s up?” 

“Morning, Kari. I wanted to let you know that Amani believes the roses were sent by the same person as who attempted to break in. They’re related.”

“Oh,” Karisma said, not sure what else she could say.

Paolo looked at Kari’s sudden change of disposition. She was holding her breath. “What’s wrong?” he asked. She couldn’t answer. “Who are you talking to?”

Finally, she said, “My assistant.”

 ”Kari? Did you hear me?” Sierra asked, her voice louder. 

“Y…yeah. I heard you. Is he sure, Sierra?” 

“Yes, he’s sure. It’s a stalker. The police are going to have to be involved, now, Kari.” 

“Oh my gawd, I suppose,” Karisma said and sat up. “What’s next?”

“Amani told me to let you know. He’s going to contact you in an hour.” 

“And in the meantime?” Karisma asked.

“You wait right where you’re at. No coming home, got it?”

“Got it,” Karisma said in a zombie-like voice.

“Hey, do you need me to do anything? You need clothes or something?”

“Clothes? Yeah, that would be great, Fluffy.”

Paolo leaned in and whispered, “I’ll have one of my men pick them up.” Then he turned from her and made a call.

After they both hung up, Paolo looked at her with such great concern that she almost wanted to dissolve in his arms. “What happened?”

“I have a stalker. He tried to break in yesterday and he’s been sending flowers.” 

Positioning himself to look into her face fully, he said, “They’re 
sure
 it’s a stalker?”

“They’re the best and if they’re sure, they’re probably right,” she said. “They’ll call me back in an hour to let me know everything. I guess they’ll be getting the police involved,” she conceded.

“The police? Look, I can handle this for you, babe. You don’t need the police,” he said.

              “How can you handle this, Paolo?”

He looked at her and then his dog. When he spoke to her he chose his words carefully. “I’m experienced in this sort of thing. I’ve studied defense tactics for twelve years, and…I have knowledge of security…and such.”

“Oh, so being a black belt makes you Bruce Lee reincarnated?” She laughed, but she was also serious about it, too. Leaving her safety to Paolo’s care wasn’t something she wasn’t willing to do. She paid her team top dollar to handle these matters.

“I know my way around a side kick,” he kidded. “But my men will actually do the work. Unless I need to.” 

“That’s hot. An alpha male. I think I’m turned on again,” she said.

“That turns you on, beautiful?” he smirked. She looked down at his strong masculine hands and picked them up. 

“Are these deadly weapons?” she asked.

“They’ve been all over you. What would you say?” he asked in that sexy timbre of his. 

She smiled and cooed, “I’d say they are quite lethal. And I totally appreciate your caring enough to get involved, but I better leave this to my guys and the police.” She gave his large hands a soft rub.

He wrapped her in his strong arms from behind. “I know that you have your own security, but would you allow my men to assist them with this? They’ve trained with me and they employ a somewhat different approach than your men might.” 

He watched her with intense blue eyes. She frowned at him. She doubted Amani would be open to it, but knew that if she gave the word, he’d do it. “Explain,” she said.

              “They don’t hesitate to use the guns they carry when necessary,” he said, impaling her with intense eyes before quickly adding, “They get the job done. Let me help, I can’t have you fearing some asshole creep out there who could possibly harm you.” 

He rose from the bed and disappeared into the walk-in closet. Karisma and Butch the dog eyed one another with suspicion, never shifting their gaze. Paolo returned to the bedroom with a gun. Her attention was now solely on the weapon.

“Uh, why do you have that? And, why would your bodyguards need to carry guns?” she asked, nervously. 

“This beauty is a Glock 9, and my men carry guns because my family is wealthy and in certain parts of Italy, people from wealthy families have been known to go missing,” he said, arching a brow and curling his lip in a half smile. “Take it, Kari,” he insisted. He held his hand open as the gun lay flat on his palm. 

She eyed the handgun first and then Paolo, and said, “I don’t want a gun, Paolo. I don’t need it. My bodyguards live with me. I trust them. They’re more than capable. Plus, I don’t even know how to use it,” she said defensively.

“I don’t doubt your men, Karisma, but they don’t sleep in your room with you, do they?” he asked.

“Of course not,” she said, knitting her brows.

“Then you 
do
 need this. Only until the stalker is caught. Unless you want to move in with me? I will protect you.”

She could tell his offer was serious. Wow! “We just met, Paolo. I’m not moving in with you and you have unfinished business, remember?” she exclaimed. She looked at the steely weapon again and ran her fingers through her tangled hair.

He took her hand and made her rub the gun. “There are no bullets in this gun, sweetheart. It’s empty. Touch it.”

She side eyed the weapon and took it from him. She gave it a quick look-see and handed it back. 

“Come here,” he said, pulling her to her feet, moving in behind her. “You hold it like this.” He placed his hands over both hers, and manipulated her fingers so that they were situated correctly under the trigger. “That feel comfortable?” he asked her.

“I’d rather not use a gun, Paolo.” 

“And you will probably never have to. But at the very least you should know how to use one.” He spread her legs seductively with one of his own, bending to kiss her neck. “I need you safe,” he whispered into her neck.

She felt the warmth of his breath.
Mmm, yeah
, she thought.

“Bend your knees slightly, it’ll give you more balance when you fire.”

She did as he instructed. His hand rubbed her hip. She bit her lip.

“Raise the weapon toward the target, sweetheart,” he said softly. He guided her aim to the wall.

“The wall?” she asked.

“Look at the picture right there.” It was a picture of the moon behind his private beach.

“You want me to shoot the moon?” she laughed.

He kissed her neck again.

“I hope you never have to shoot anything, sweetheart,” he said.

“Okay, now what?” she asked, enjoying the lesson despite her reservations. Or maybe she just enjoyed the heat of her sexy instructor.

“Concentrate on your target. Squeeze the trigger, all the way back. Keep squeezing until it fires, like this,” he showed her exactly how to do it, with his hands still covering hers. “You’ll have some kickback, don’t be afraid of it. It’s normal. His back was to her front and she pressed against him. She looked back at him and he smirked at her. “After you shoot the gun, lower it and take your finger off the trigger. Keep it pointed downward. You going to remember all of this?” he asked.

“I don’t know, probably not.” They lowered the gun and she faced him.

Taking the gun from her he said, “Okay then, I’ll move into your place. How about that? Karisma…look at me.”

He turned her chin toward him with his index finger. She gazed up into his eyes.

“I realize that we’ve only known each other for a few days. Less than seventy-two hours, right? Before that you didn’t even know that I existed, but I’ve known you for a lot longer. I want you to be safe. Do you understand? That’s all, sweetheart.” He kissed her lips and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Take it, Kari, it’ll make me feel better when we’re apart,” he whispered into her mouth, while holding her waist with one arm. Placing the gun on the nightstand, he lay on the bed, pulling her on top. His lips were very convincing. So were his lethal hands. So was his… Yeah, okay, she’d take the damn gun.

                                            ***

Ray rolled over and reached for the remote. Yawning, he turned on the TV. He liked to watch the news and sports results before he started his day. Contrary to his public persona, he was an intelligent, well-versed man. His antics belied that fact, however. Stretching his eyes, he was about to go to the bathroom when he saw the face of the woman he hadn’t been able to get over on the screen. He leaned back and turned up the volume.

              Karisma was caught on film with the new ‘man’ in her life, millionaire playboy and owner of FutureShock Records, Paolo Montovani. According to the report, the two had been seen cozying up in a back booth of the exclusive
Trapeze
 nightclub last night. The question that the reporter wanted to know was, “
Is it new love for Karisma and Paolo
? 
And has she finally
moved on from Alleged?”

“Damn it!  No!” he shouted, throwing his remote down. Why the hell was Karisma out with that guy? Their separation was temporary, a cooling off period for the two of them. He was tempted to call her up and cuss her out for misleading the press and making the public believe she had moved on. He hadn’t; he knew he never would and that meant that she shouldn’t, either. 

His ringtone was playing Tupac’s 
California Love
. He picked up his phone. “Sup, man?”

“Yo, man. You been on the internet this morning? Your girl is all up on the white boy that just bought FutureShock. You see that shit?” It was his friend, Tony Martin, aka Lil Jammie Love, and a member of his posse, 
Black Dolla$.