“Shhh,” she whispers. “I want this so badly, Adriano.”
He tries to be gentle as he slides into her but January isn’t giving him the space. She arches into his cock, swallowing it as though she was born to take it all.
“Fucking Jesus.” Adriano grunts, his whole body is shaking with the effort to not ram inside her.
Then January’s face contorts. “God, it’s so much. Too much.” But she keeps grinding her hips upwards, urging Adriano’s shaft deeper still.
“How do you feel?” I call.
She lets out a breathy moan that sets my blood on fire. “It burns, but it feelsso good.”
And just like that I’m as hard as I was before I came.
“Shit,” Doc mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “They look fucking hot together.”
They do.
The two of them, January and Adriano… it isn’t like it was with any of us. It’s erotic, almost romantic. Adriano keeps his mouth on January’s the whole time, his scarred arms holding her body tenderly to his. As he thrusts into her she sighs lushly, her hair flowing like a woman in a Raphaelite painting. At times the intimacy is almost painful, like watching the first man fuck the first woman, a marriage of the primal and the profound.
January moans like an angel when she comes and this time she seems entirely at home in the pleasure, turning her face upward and letting it wash over her in waves. “Oh my God, Adriano.Adriano,I don’t know if I can take it…”
“Move slowly, Pryntsesa. Feel how deep I am inside you. Feel how close we are.”
Beside me, Bobby wipes sweat off his forehead. “This is fucked up,” he whispers, and I silently agree.
“Of all the crazy shit I’ve seen,” Doc mumbles drunkenly. “I never thought it would be Adriano Rossi showing me up in the sex department.”
I silently agree again.
But Adriano and January don’t seem to hear us. They’re too wrapped up in each other, in the sensations of their own bodies.
“Pull out,” I warn Adriano as his thrusts grow faster and he groans in a way I recognize from a hundred other times, with a hundred other women. Adriano makes no motion that he’s heard me, and as he fucks January with determined, steady movements, I consider my next move. And as sexy as the scene has been to witness, I will not have January pregnant with a crazed, quarter-Italian bastard.
I consider pulling out the gun strapped to my ankle when Gretzky walks through the open door. “Mr. Morelli, Parker has agreed to a sit down with you in Manhattan next week—”
The room freezes—January impaled on Rossi’s cock, Adriano engulfing her with his mutilated body, Doc with the JB bottle between his teeth, Bobby palming the front of his briefs.
“This is a bad time, Gretzky,” I say, trying not to laugh. “Though good news about Parker.”
Our senior advisor’s face crumples like he’s about to have a stroke. “Shit-fire! Jesus!” he says, practically running away.
“We’re going to have to initiate a locked door policy,” I tell the others. “Starting immediately.”
January covers her face as Doc and Bobby laugh. Adriano looks like someone has pissed in his cornflakes.
“Cheer up,” I tell him, moving toward the door. “Keep fucking her. I’ll lock this then order Chinese.”
***
It’s six inthe morning. The dining room is thick with cigar smoke and the scent of cold takeout, liquor and pussy. January is curled in my arms, sleeping. Doc is drinking contemplatively in the corner, probably imagining more perverted things to do to our girlfriend’s body and Bobby and Adriano are playing cards. I’m drunk, but not terribly. I mostly feel a strange sense of calm, as though there’s nothing in the world that needs worrying about.
“What the fuck are we doing?” Adriano says suddenly, turning to face me. “Things can’t go on like this with her.”
“Maybe not. But we’re making it up as we go along, Rossi.”
He growls but says nothing. I’m glad. I don’t want to discuss technicalities. I just want to bask in the glow of everything that’s happened tonight. Apparently, I’m not alone.
“I’m happy,” Doc says, lowering his whiskey bottle. “Happier than I’ve been in a long while.”
