As I pulled up in front of the Falcone mansion, my stomach churned. Attending the wake was a mistake. My instincts told me to peel away from the extensive driveway and head for the safety of home. But the questions that have plagued me since I read of Maria Falcone’s death needed assuaging, the foremost playing like a litany of bad music in my head. What if he had moved on without me and all that was left to share was the past?
I told myself to get a grip as my feelings were secondary to my purpose in being at the Falcone mansion. That was a half-truth; I was there for him. I put my car in park, joining the others littering the circular driveway. As I walked up the stone steps, I sighed in surrender. Maria Falcone, the only mother I had ever known, had died. I was here to pay my respects, to say goodbye. Maybe I wouldn’t see Jimmy; maybe I was getting myself worked up for nothing.
My stomach roiled at the idea of seeing him as a man, seeing what he had become. I feared what I wanted most and found myself wavering between my desire to see him and hoping to make a clean exit without seeing him. If I didn’t see him, could I push Jimmy Falcone into the recesses of my childhood and pull him out as a fond memory when I needed one.
But even as that thought crested, I knew it was a lie. The ache I felt for Jimmy was not something that would ever go away; it was as permanent as his handprint was all those years ago. Standing on the threshold of the entrance, I tugged my black mini skirt and flicked my hair into place. I reached out my trembling hand for the door handle, and taking a deep breath, I pulled it open and stepped inside.
The great hall of the mansion was filled to capacity for Maria’s wake. My social anxiety reared its head at the size of the crowd. Upon further inspection, I noticed the room was predominantly filled with family, and that did not help the urge to flee. Until something else hit me that was just as powerful—the sense that I was being watched.
I stood still, my eyes roving around the room, and then I saw him. The shock to my body was beyond what I could have fabricated based on my memories of Jimmy. My breath hitched and my legs trembled. His tall, over six-foot frame was clear now from the other side of the room. He stared at me so intently that I wondered if I was naked—I certainly felt as though I was.
In a room of Italians with an average height of five foot five inches, Jimmy looked like a runway model. He was gorgeous. His eyes held a predatory gleam. I watched him excuse himself without ever taking his eyes off me.
He stalked toward me, every inch of his form and energy screaming dominant. I realized that my desires were way beyond my comfort zone. Unconsciously, I started to back away, until my butt banged into the door behind me. Oh, my God, my lady parts clenched as he made his way over to me. Then he was there and stopped directly in front of me. I held my breath.
“Theresa.” He looked me up and down. “Look at you, all grown up.”
“Um, hi, Jimmy.”
He grabbed my arm without another word and stalked away from the crowd, bringing me into what I assumed was his office, tucked out of the way and very private. He pointed at a comfortable wingback while he takes the office chair behind his desk, clearly making a power play.
I giggled nervously and said, “This reminds me of the principal’s office at school. I’m not in trouble already, am I?”
His eyes glittered dangerously. “Do you want to be in trouble, Theresa?”
Damn, the way he drew out my name when he said it had my body sizzling with lust. I felt my chest heave as I sought the oxygen that just got sucked out of my body when he made my lady parts clench. Thank God I was sitting as I couldn’t imagine my legs effectively holding me up. Needing to ground myself, I shifted my gaze from him to the window behind his head. A young girl of maybe twelve who looks an awful lot like Jimmy was standing outside. My stomach flip-flopped. He had a daughter; I should leave.
“Is that your daughter?”
Jimmy turned his head, his expression quickly shifted from predator to displeasure. “Stay here,” he ordered. I wanted to flip him off, but something made me acquiescent. A moment later, I saw Jimmy with his daughter. He whispered something in her ear, and she adamantly shook her head in response. He gave her jean-clad bottom a smack and then quickly pulled her in for a hug.
She buried her face in his chest as he wrapped his strong arms around her. I could see his lips still moving, but I had no idea what he was saying. When she pulled away, she was wearing a huge smile. I guess whatever he said to her must have been encouraging. She skipped away, both disappearing from my sight line.
The domestic scene I just witnessed trigged a memory—Jimmy and I were hanging out in the treehouse he and his father built for us when we were kids. The memory was based off a habitual scene we played out together hundreds of times, ‘house.’
My mind traveled back to the treehouse, the last time we were in it, just before the Falcone family moved. Jimmy suddenly said, “Wife! Where are my slippers and pipe?”
He’d just shared with me that his family was moving. I was really upset, and he was trying to take my mind off it by playing our old game. But instead of making me laugh, as intended, I got pissed off and answered, “Go fuck yourself, Jimmy, I want a divorce.” I don’t know who had been more shocked, him or me. Then I started laughing hard, like a crazy person.
Jimmy hadn’t thought it funny. He sat down on the only chair in the clubhouse and pulled me over his lap. He pushed my head toward the plank floor so my ass was right in his face. I’d felt so humiliated, but also a little excited. To hide the fact, I had started kicking and he started spanking.
“What the hell, Jimmy? It was a joke, now let me go.” When my words didn’t dissuade him, I tried again, “I swear to God, Jimmy, when I get up, I’m going to—”
“What, Theresa, what are you going to do, hit me with your little girly fists? Don’t you ever say the divorce word to me, Theresa Romano, because it won’t happen. You’re mine.” He punctuated each word with a hard smack to my ass.
“Jimmy, it’s a game; we’re just goofing off.” His answer was to continue to rain blows down on my unprotected ass. “Stop, please, let me up.”
Now I was mad, the increasing sting in my backside making me angrier with each crack. “You bastard,” I hissed, renewing my efforts. “Let me up this instant.”
“Oh, ho, ho! You think it’s okay to swear at me, little girl? You’re staying over my lap until you beg.”
I was so engrossed in the memory, I startled when Jimmy perched himself against the edge of the desk, mere inches away from where I was sitting, bringing me abruptly back to the present. My gaze traveled up his chiseled body and rested on his chest. I felt his eyes bearing down on me, too intense for me to investigate, especially after what I’d been remembering about us.
Embarrassment created a heat that bloomed on my chest and quickly spread to my face. Gathering my courage, I allowed my gaze to travel up to Jimmy’s face. His expression reflected sardonic amusement.
“Blush is such a becoming color on you, Theresa,” he said, the meaning of his words clear as his predatory gaze turned into a leer. My blush deepened.
“I bet I can guess what you’re remembering right now.” He leaned forward and reached out his hand to cup my chin. I tried not to moan at the contact. Jimmy’s hand was sending bolts of lightning through me as he ran his fingers gently over my jaw.
“Why are you here, Theresa, why did you come?” he asked. His voice was so sexy my nether region slipped into fast forward. His eyes held me captive, waiting for a response as every nerve in my body was alive and my parts were on fire.
“B-because,” I stuttered. “Because I want to pay my respects to your mother; you know she meant a lot to me.” My voice hiked a bit at the end, my purpose for being there lending strength to my words. At least enough to break the temporary control that Jimmy was easily exuding over me.
“Why did you bring me in here?” I countered, coming back in control of my faculties. He sighed and dropped his hand from my chin.
“Let’s go see the family.” He wrapped my arm around his and we left his office.
I was unaware of exactly what business practices the family was invested in to have amassed, what clearly must have been, a large fortune. Looking around, I could see my and Jimmy’s childhood homes fitting inside this monstrosity at least five times. I chanced to peek at him from beneath my lashes. The man was at home with his wealth, belonging to this large lifestyle he had created.
Jimmy’s daughter walked down the spiral staircase toward us, now dressed in a black satin dress with ballet flats. Her long tresses are pulled back in a French braid. I glanced at Jimmy; he wore a smile of approval at her appearance. In response, her face lit up until she glanced at me on her father’s arm. I watched her expression change to hostility.
“Daddy?” She stopped on the last stair and lifted her chin as she gazed down at me in an attempt to intimidate. How I admired her spunk.
“Maggie,” Jimmy said, drawing her down the last stair and into his other arm. “This is my childhood best friend, Theresa. And this beautiful young woman is my princess, Maggie.”
“The Theresa?” Her eyes grew round. “Finally,” she squealed, stepping out of her father’s arm and into mine. “I have been like wanting to meet you for like ever.”
Maggie’s big eyes and cute dimples were so disarming, I couldn’t help falling in love with her on the spot. “Well, I am very happy to meet you too, Princess Maggie,” I said enthusiastically. She beamed at me before pulling away from our awkward one arm embrace.
A crash from the kitchen startled us. “Excuse me, ladies. I see I’m needed. Mags, please show Theresa around while I’m gone, principessa.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she agreed as he kissed her cheek. Then Jimmy disappeared through the double doors leading to what I assumed was the kitchen.
“How long have you known my dad?”
“Mmm, since forever. Jimmy was two when I was born. We lived next door to each other until the family moved here when he was fifteen.” We took our time moving about the room. Maggie seemed more interested in steering me than in introducing me. I was good with that; just being there stressed me out. I didn’t need to add to it with unnecessary introductions.
“Maggie, how did you hear about me? Was it through your dad?”
She shook her head no. “Nonna—she used to tell me stories about you and my dad. She told me that I reminded her of you. She said you were tough and sweet, and that is why daddy and you were besties.”
I want to ask more, but Maggie brought us to a stop in front of a dense group of men, all of whom seemed vaguely familiar. As they parted, I saw James Senior in the center of the group. He appeared startled to see me.
“Theresa.” He pulled me in, planting a kiss on either cheek. “Let me look at you.” He held me at arm’s length. I knew my five-foot-five frame showed well as I was in good shape. I was a runner, so my legs were shapely and on display in the short skirt I’d chosen.
I admit, that while I was choosing my outfit, I imagined Jimmy salivating over my legs. I added a matching jacket to the form-fitting mini skirt and black wedge heels to accentuate my ankles. James Senior clucked his tongue.
“You’re too skinny, Bella.”
I laughed. “James, you would think a woman weighing in at two hundred pounds was too skinny.”
He chuckled. “Have you seen Jimmy?”
I nodded. “Yes, but I’m not here for him.” I was such a liar. “I’m here to see you and the family and give my condolences. I loved Maria like a mother, you know that. In fact, she was the only mother I ever knew.”
He averted his gaze as he nodded in agreement with my words. He was hurting, so I gave him a hug and then allowed Maggie to move us along. We stopped at a group of women, all looking to be around age twenty. It was hard not to grimace as they spoke, as the stories were way to graphic for a twelve-year-old. I moved us along and asked, “Maggie, is your mother in attendance? If so, I would love to meet her.”
She shook her head. “She died just before I turned one. I don’t remember her.”
I felt like a schmuck. I should have asked Jimmy, prior to asking her. “I’m so sorry, Maggie,” I said as I reached for her hand, holding it between both of mine. “I guess your grandmother was your world?” She nodded, her eyes heavy with unshed tears.
“I lost my mother when I was a baby, too, just like you. And for a long time, your grandmother was like my mother. Jimmy and I, well, we were besties growing up because I was always at the Falcone house. My dad worked hard so we could keep our house, and I have no other family.”
I reached out for her other hand and held them both in mine. “I am truly sorry, Maggie, for your loss.” A large tear that had been hovering finally fell and rolled down her porcelain cheek. I let go of one of her hands and wiped it away and then pulled her in for a hug.
“It will be okay, Maggie,” I crooned. “Let it all out, darling.” And with my words, the dam unleashed. A few minutes later, Jimmy came around the corner and stopped so abruptly that he slid on the Italian marble flooring and landed on his ass by our feet.
Our moment of grieving was over and replaced with laughter as Maggie and I gazed down at Jimmy. His quick succession of changing facial expressions had Maggie and me in peals of laughter until his resting face morphed into a man with a plan.
“So, you girls think me landing on my ass is funny, do you? We’ll see how funny you think it is when I catch you.”
Yay, a game, my inner goddess clapped. Maggie and I ran screeching away, down one wing, and out into the backyard. Jimmy followed, making monster sounds as he chased us. We giggled in anticipation of being grabbed by the monster. This was just like when we were kids, except now, I was hobbled by my heels. “Help,” I screeched as Jimmy caught me.
“Maggie,” he growled. “I caught your friend. What should I do, eat her?”
I pretended mock fear of being eaten.
Maggie popped her head out from behind a rose bush. “Kiss her, Daddy.”
Jimmy pulled me in tight and kissed me. Not a peck as I had expected, but a deep kiss, his tongue opening my lips, commanding, dominating, drinking deeply. My eyes flew open at the invasion. His were already open, the predatory look in his eyes sealing my future. I tried pulling away, wanting – no needing – to escape from him.
Maggie tapped him on the shoulder. “That’s quite the kiss, Dad.”
Jimmy looked up, stunned, his lips finally releasing me.
Maggie and I laughed again at his expense as we sauntered away, but not before he swatted my ass. It was light, but it seared me with heat. Everything about Jimmy Falcone spoke of possession. If I weren’t careful, I would be his next acquisition.
Jimmy left us then to go and speak with more guests that have arrived during our romp outside. I said my goodbyes to Maggie and James Senior and headed for the door, hoping to escape before Jimmy noticed me leaving.
I scanned the extensive u-shaped driveway for my car. The new guests had blocked me in. Crap! So much for a clean escape. I took a breath. Calm down, Theresa, I coaxed myself. How could I get out of this situation without talking to Jimmy? Being in his presence had set off my lady parts that I’d been purposely keeping shut off for a few years. I hadn’t dated since college, and I didn’t want to start now. That last experience with Steve had been humiliating and had put me off men.
I remembered I had a change of clothes in my trunk and running shoes. Oh, hurray! I could do this. I got my items from the trunk and snuck down the side of the house, ducking behind a sculptured bush.
I pulled off my wedges and wiggled out of my skirt and jacket. I was in my camisole and G-string when Jimmy and another guy come around the corner. I don’t know who was more surprised, them or me. I hugged my clothing to the front of my body in a vain attempt at covering up. Jimmy walked straight to me while taking off his suit coat and covered me up.
“Give me a moment, Al.”
“Sure, boss.” Al continued around to the backyard.
“Theresa, what the hell are you doing, trying to give the wake an eyeful?”
I was thoroughly embarrassed. “Um, well, uh, you see, I need to leave, but my car is blocked by the new arrivals, so I grabbed a change of clothes so I could, you know, change, and then jog home. I figured I’d get the car later.” I had been staring at the ground during this exchange.
Jimmy lifted my chin, gazing into my eyes. “Theresa, that doesn’t explain why you are outside, instead of inside in a bathroom. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have retrieved your car.”
I tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let me.
“Theresa,” he growled. “I’m waiting for an answer.”
“Um…” I trailed off.
“Geez Louise, woman, it’s like being kids again. Do you need me to treat you like a kid, Theresa? Will that get your tongue wagging?” His threat did the trick.
“I’ll have you know, James Junior, that I don’t need anything or anyone. I was simply being polite and trying to not interrupt the wake.”
“I think that you’re lying to me, Tesoro. Try again. I warn you, if you lie to me, you’ll have another trip down memory lane, only this one facing the ground as you dangle over my knee.”
He pulled me closer, close enough that I could smell his scent—Italian coffee, aftershave, and man. Jimmy’s scent was so masculine, my lady parts clenched in response.
He marches over to a large garden boulder and put his foot on top. He was about to pull me over his knee. “Wait, Jimmy, please don’t do that.”
“Then the truth, amoré.”
“I was afraid.” My gaze moved from his face to the ground at my feet. “I was afraid of what I might find when I arrived. I was afraid that you had forgotten me or didn’t care about me anymore. I was afraid you were happily married. But now I see you remember…many things. I needed to get away, fast. That’s why I didn’t say goodbye to you. That’s why I was changing here, honest.”
He took his foot off the boulder and pulled me into an embrace. “Good girl,” he crooned. My physical response was at odds with my thoughts. I wanted to tell him to screw off. My senses, however, were very much enjoying the embrace, and truth be told, being called a good girl was nice, too.
Finally, logic prevailed. “I must go, Jimmy. Do you think you can get my car unblocked?”
“Already done, little girl.”
“Wait, what? And stop calling me that.”
He chuckled. “I saw your dilemma and you sneaking down the side of the house. Al went to deal with it. You can go now.” He stepped away from me in dismissal. I threw on my sports clothes and picked up my suit and heels. I stalked away when I heard, “I’ll see you later, Tesoro.”
I didn’t respond, just kept walking until I arrived at my car. I got in and finally made my escape.
It was eight days since I saw Theresa at my mother’s wake. I’ll never forget the way I felt when I looked up from talking to my mother’s aunt, who had flown in from Sicily, and saw Theresa standing on the threshold of my house. She looked very unsure of herself and incredibly sexy. She oozed submissive energy that sent a pulse right down to my cock. Her curvy, athletic body begged for sex and plenty of it. My cock wanted me to drag her upstairs to my room and fuck her for days.
She hadn’t grown much in height, maybe an inch or two since I last saw her. Her legs were long, strong, and made to be wrapped around me. Her round ass was full and looked firm, made for my hands to spank it. Her breasts were not large, but they were perky and begged to be pinched, caressed, kissed. Her auburn hair shone in the light from the stained-glass door. I watched her; she looked downright uncomfortable, but then she always did in crowds.
As I stalked toward her, my thoughts drifted to my childhood, which was filled with her. We’d gotten into trouble all the time, once throwing rocks at cars while hiding in trees. When our hiding spot was discovered, I’d told her to run. I got caught and took the belting from my pops. I didn’t have a birthday memory without her in it or any memory I valued. She was my past; she had been everything.
We moved when I was fifteen, to the mansion where I still reside. Theresa visited me here once, right after the move. But things weren’t the same. She seemed sad, and I was excited about my new life, new school, new challenges. Back then, the norm for me would have been to not let her leave until I knew what was bothering her, and then I would fix it. As my bestie, I would have done anything for her. But the move and the increase in social status had me focused on the future, not on Theresa, who represented the old hood.
We had chemistry, although we didn’t know it at the time. Everything I found adorable about her as a little girl made me horny as a teenager. In many ways, my father’s construction company taking off had come at the perfect time. I probably would have had her pregnant by graduation and married the next day. That was not the life I wanted for her.
Instead, I met Christine at a party one night. Our grade eleven one-night stand led to her being pregnant. Neither Christine nor I were interested in being parents in high school but were from Catholic families and abortion wasn’t an option. But I have thanked God every day for bringing me Maggie, my princess, and the love of my life. She forced me to grow up fast. Especially after her mother and her mother’s boyfriend died in a car accident after graduation when Maggie was only a year old.
Seeing Theresa at my mother’s wake did all kinds of things to me. I think I felt compelled to play a game of monster with her and Maggie to do a reset. She wanted me. I could see that. I wanted her, too, only I was better at hiding it. I wanted to touch her so badly, take her, own her, and make her scream my name over and over as I gave her orgasms she didn’t even know were possible.
I’d marked her when I was young as my future mate, before the family moved. That was the real reason for the spanking in the treehouse. ‘T’ was mine from that moment, and the wake confirmed it. Based on her reaction to me with Maggie, I’d say she remembered that day, even if she didn’t understand the ramifications of what it meant.
I’d almost come undone when I saw her semi-naked down by the side of my house. All I could think of was pushing her down on all fours and slipping inside her silky folds. Dismissing her was my way of getting a hold of myself. I knew she had been turned on, but she was also skittish. Letting her go was part of a bigger plan. Now that she was back in my life, my goal was to keep her in it.
I shifted my focus back to the present in time to alter my stance and hit the soccer ball that was flying toward my face, into the net, scoring the winning goal. I kissed both sets of the index and middle fingers before extending them, just like my favorite soccer player, Claudio Marchisio. With the game over, I headed off the field and toward my car.
“Jimmy, where are you going?”
“Home; I’m a family man, remember.”
“Come on, Jimmy, Maggie’s almost thirteen; she doesn’t want to hang out with her dad. Come out and have a few beers with us.”
Maybe they were right; I’d been keeping a very close watch on Maggie. She had been very upset by the news of my mother’s imminent death and, until the wake, very sad and shut down. The wake was a tipping point for her. What the magic ingredient was I didn’t know. It could have been that the wake signified an ending and a beginning.
Her nonna—and surrogate mother—was gone. Theresa stepped in and was able to help Maggie grieve in a way I hadn’t been able to. These could have just been fanciful thoughts; she was young, after all, and kids bounced back way faster than adults. It was easier to move on when you had your entire life ahead of you. Maybe an afternoon drinking beer with the guys would be okay.
“Sure. Okay, let’s go,” I finally conceded. Leaving my car parked, I piled into Al’s 4 by 4 with the rest of the guys. We’d only driven a block, when Al slowed down.
“Would you look at that piece of ass,” Al said as we passed the soccer field adjacent to the football field. I was in the back, on the passenger side, and couldn’t see whom they were staring at.
“Oh, man, look at the way she bends. I’d love to plant my dick in her,” Freddy moaned.
“In who,” I asked?
“Look, boss.” Al pulled over. There, standing in the center of the oval field was a woman with a gorgeous ass. We had a perfect view of it as she bent in half stretching her hamstrings. I felt like an idiot sitting at the side of the field with four other guys, staring. I was happy she was facing away so she couldn’t see the five of us gawking at her. She stood up and, reaching back, pulled her foot to her amazing ass to stretch her quadriceps. Something looked strangely familiar about her.
When she turned to face us, I slunk down in my seat and moaned.
“Stop gawking,” I shouted. Damn, it was Theresa, in her little shorty shorts. Is that what she wears when she works out? How is it the silly woman hasn’t been raped? I was annoyed that her juicy ass was on display for anyone to see. “Drive around the park, Al, to where the cars are parked, by the bleachers.”
It was my workout day at the track and I’d just finished my routine and cool down. A few more stretches and I would head home and get ready for drinks with Robert. Today had been hard to focus on my workout. My thoughts constantly strayed to Jimmy Falcone. Eight days since the wake at his home and my lady parts were still squeezing when I pictured that wolfish grin of his. Absently, I reached behind to grab my foot as I bent my knee, drawing my toes toward my ass, getting a nice quad stretch.
I turned toward the parking lot as I lowered into a half squat with one leg extended to target my inner thigh for a good stretch. I noticed a man walking toward me at a rapid pace. He looked like Jimmy. As he got closer, I realized it was Jimmy. Shit, what was he doing here, and why did he look angry?
I quickly gazed around to see if there was anyone else out here that he could be stomping toward, but I was the only person on the field. The closer he got, the more I thought I should run. His aggressive gait, his glinting eyes, told me I was in trouble and… wait a second, I wasn’t in trouble. I was single; I didn’t owe him any sort of allegiance, and he certainly had no right to me, sexual or otherwise.
Still trying to convince myself of my independence, I turned to flee as he got within a few feet. “Theresa, stop!” I immediately stopped running and let him catch up to me. He grabbed my arm and, without a word, marched me over to the parking lot.
“Jimmy, what the hell? What’s your problem?”
But he didn’t answer, just wore a permanent scowl on his face as he continued to march, dragging me along with him. We were almost to the bleachers when I dug in my heels. “Get your goddamn hands off me. You are such an egotistical shithead!” His eyes grew round at the insult. Instead of continuing to drag me, as I’d expected, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.
“Keep quiet, little girl; one more comment out of you, and I’ll tan your hide.”
I stopped struggling. He was more than capable of doing exactly what he threatened. Reaching the back bleachers, Jimmy sat down and dropped me over his lap.
“Now, Theresa, tell me, do you always wear skimpy shorty shorts on the field?”
That’s what this was about, my shorts? I began to laugh at the ridiculousness of the question and of the situation. Seriously, he had himself all tied up in knots over my shorts. They happened to be my most comfortable shorts. If he found them too revealing, that was his problem. “Yes, now let me up, you brute.”
His hand came down on my ass, making a loud thwack sound. I peered around, praying no one was watching or within hearing distance. Thankfully, the few runners who had been running around the track had left. Jimmy continued to pepper my ass with his hand.
“Yes, what, Theresa?”
“Yes, I always wear these shorts when I work out. So what?”
He delivered ten more smacks, these much harder than the rest. “Yikes, ouch, stop, please, please!”
He sat me up. “If I catch you in those again, I’m going to belt your ass.”
“Right now, Theresa, I have four guys in the car dreaming about planting their dicks in your sexy ass. Jesus, Theresa, I don’t want anyone visualizing that.”
My face flushed, surely matching the color of my bottom. Jimmy cupped my face and gently pressed his lips against mine. His tongue stroked mine as one hand grabbed my hair, holding my head hostage while his tongue explored my mouth. “Mmm, you taste delicious,” he hissed. His other hand reached between my thighs. The heat from the spanking created a delicious warmth in my woman parts. Jimmy’s hand was stroking that into an intense inferno of need deep within my core.
Jimmy slid a finger under my shorts. “Oh, baby, I see you enjoyed your trip down memory lane.”
I pulled back. “Fuck you, Jimmy.” I made to stand up and leave, but Jimmy had other ideas. He pressed me onto his lap and pulled out his android. “Al, you guys head to the pub; I’ll meet you there shortly.” He switched off his phone and put it away in his pocket.
“Okay, little girl, you have two choices. I can pull your shorts down right here and give your ass a good thrashing. Or, we can go to your house and finish this in private.”
“Or choice three, neither!” I sulked.
He chucked my chin up so our eyes were level. “Then I choose,” he assured with finality.
I hated to admit it, but his words made my pussy clench. I was tempted to see what he would do if I pushed a little more. What else would he do? “My house.”
“My house, what?”
“My house, please,” I sneered.
“Wrong, princess, it’s my house, please, Sir. Don’t worry T, by the time I’m done, you will know how to offer respect.”
Ugh, infuriating man! We stood and headed to the car, his hand an iron band around my wrist. “Give me the keys, Tesoro.”
I reached into my running belt and handed him the keys. Ten minutes later, we pulled into my driveway. He got out and opened my door, pulling me out of the car and into his arms in one move. He squeezed my ass.
“Ouch,” I yelped.
He grinned, capturing my bottom lip between his teeth and giving a gentle tug. Everything he did was to dominate. My mind screamed at me to tell him he had no right, but my body told a different story. I wanted this, wanted him. Isn’t that why I went to the Falcone’s in the first place?
It wouldn’t have mattered if I changed my mind and wanted to stop this, as when Jimmy made up his mind, there was no changing it. I would keep my mouth shut and give him no reason to continue. He would finish early and leave. Then I would shower and get myself off because I was so horny, I needed the release.
He unlocked the kitchen door, the one we had used as kids, and marched us to the living room.
“Bend over,” he said, pointing at the arm of the couch.
“No.” I shook my head. So much for not provoking him; clearly, my sanity had taken a vacation.
“No? But your body says yes, Theresa. You’re wet. I can see it even with your shorts in the way. Your chest, cara mia, is moving rapidly with your heart rate. Your nipples are hard and begging to be touched. Be a good girl and bend over the end of the couch, and I won’t use the wooden spoon on your ass.”
His words motivated me to lay over the end of the couch. “Shorts down,” he ordered. I stood back up and wiggled my skin-tight shorts down over my hips and let them slide down to my ankles. I stepped out of them, hooked my shoe inside and flicked them into the air, hitting Jimmy in the face completely by accident. His expression had me in peals of laughter despite the vulnerability of my situation.
He gave me a predatory smile. “Very funny, Theresa. Now over the couch.”
I was still laughing when his hand came down hard on my backside, taking my breath away. A dozen more, and my flaming ass was doing the jiggle. I had never been spanked, except that one time in the clubhouse by Jimmy.
“Theresa, why are you getting spanked?” he asked, punctuating each word with his hand.
“Because you’re a tyrant who’s pissed because his friends want to fuck me.”
There was a pause. I think I shocked him. I certainly shocked myself. I never spoke that way, not to him or anyone. I don’t know why I did it now, except I was so turned on. I think I was embarrassed and trying to deflect, or worse, seeing what would happen if I pushed back a little.
Jimmy must have read my mind. He slid a finger along my glistening lips. I moaned. “If more is what you want, princess, I’m happy to oblige.” He pulled me up and marched me into the kitchen where he rifled through drawers until he found a wooden spoon.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He grinned. “No? But you just asked me to, Theresa, didn’t you?”
I pleaded the fifth by not responding. We marched back to the living room. This time, he sat down in the center of the couch. “Do you know how many beatings I took for you, growing up?”
I stood in front of him, naked from the waist down, embarrassed, my gaze on the floor.
“Look at me, T.” My gaze shifted to his, and suddenly, I was looking at the old Jimmy, my BFF. I shook my head no.
“Too many to count, and do you know why?” I shook my head again. His voice and mannerism had shifted to the old quiet command that he had back when I knew him last, which seemed geared toward bringing me to a place of contriteness.
“No, Sir.” I finally said the words I knew he had been waiting for.
He smiled in response, pleased with my obedience. “Because, I never wanted anyone to touch you, Theresa, not even your father. The only spanking you have ever had was from me, right?”
I was shocked. My mind replayed all the times we had gotten caught doing something. I never got the blame. There were never consequences to my actions. Understanding dawned and, with it, an entirely new perspective of my childhood buddy.
“I wonder, now, if I should have allowed you to take some of the blame and some licks to go with it, as you seem completely devoid of respect.
“However,” he continued, “as I said, the thought of anyone but me touching you was unthinkable. Now be a good girl and climb over my lap.”
With my head down and eyes averted, I lay over Jimmy’s lap.
“Let’s try this again, Theresa. Why are you over my lap?”
“Because I wouldn’t accept my first punishment gracefully earlier at the park, Sir, or the second one here.”
“Good girl, are you ready now?”
“Yes, Sir, and, Jimmy, I’m sorry; I didn’t know.”
“Never you mind, sweet cheeks.” With the word ‘cheeks,’ the first blow landed on the right side with a loud crack. I squeezed my buns together and gripped the couch with my hands. A dozen stinging blows landed on my backside in quick succession. When he stopped to rub my ass, I took in gulps of air. Unknowingly, I’d been holding my breath during the spanking and found myself gasping.
He slid a finger between my hot folds, and I mewled like a kitten in heat. I pressed up into his hand, desperate for relief. But he wasn’t done with me yet.
“Count,” he demanded.
At thirty, I hung over his legs blubbering and crying, completely wrung out. He set aside the spoon and rubbed my throbbing backside. I sucked in my breath at his touch, my ass so sore I thought I would scream. He added a finger to my pussy and rubbed from my clit to my anus with the overflow of juices.
He continued to rub all three spots, and my pain quickly changed to desire. I was about to beg for release, when Jimmy said, “Next time I punish you, Bella, I’ll fuck you in the ass. Take that as your only warning.”
“Yes, Sir.” His words aroused me to new heights, the thought both terrifying and exciting. I tried pressing into his hand and gyrating into his thigh at the same time. “Be still,” he said as his hand landed a sharp blow across both cheeks. I stayed still as he played with my outer lips. I tried to comply, but I was so horny, I couldn’t help but buck my hips and moan pitifully.
“I see my little farfallina likes my punishment.”
Farfallina? I hadn’t heard that term in years. I suddenly felt a need to know what the term meant. Why did he say it now? My need to know temporarily overrode my need for sexual release. “Jimmy, you used to call me that all the time, what does it mean?”
He stopped stroking my outer lips and sat me up, looking into my eyes. “Farfallina means little butterfly, Theresa. You have always been my little butterfly, so precious.”
For reasons I couldn’t decipher, I became unhinged by his words. The tears welled in my eyes and leaked down like rain on a windowpane, continually beading and sliding. He pulled me in tight and held me while I cried, my steady dripping turning into a full ensemble of sobbing and messy tears.
Released from twelve years of life without him, I felt spent and so open. I felt like twelve years of indecision, grief, and loneliness was swept away in that simple act of surrender. Sure, I have accomplished a lot professionally. I am a strong woman, but I realized now that Jimmy had been my entire life. He had always been there, and then he wasn’t.
I pushed him out of my life when his family moved away from our neighborhood, punishing him for leaving me. Twelve years later, here I was, coming to terms with that fact over his knee. All I’d accomplished was alienating the Falcones and making myself miserable. The petals of awareness came at me in a flurry as I bawled my eyes out on Jimmy’s lap.
“Sh, Tesoro, everything is okay; you’re going to be fine.”
My bawling slowed down to hiccups and snuffles, the aftermath of my release leaving me feeling vulnerable.
“You left me,” I accused with none of the venom I’d felt earlier.
“I know, vita mia, and I am sorry. I had no power then. I was not the master of my life like I am now.” I pulled back, grabbing a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. I felt self-conscious of my nakedness. I excused myself and went to the bathroom for my robe. When I came back, the living room was empty. Jimmy was gone. I rolled my eyes. Typical Italian.
But it was just as well. I was due to meet Robert for tapas and drinks, and I had just enough time to shower and get dressed before I needed to leave.