Disclaimer: none of the real ones is ours, just the made up characters.
Rating: NC 17
Chapter Seven
Nina's head felt a little fluffy, like it was wrapped in a big marabou boa. She licked her dry lips and rolled over on her back, stretching on the cool sheets. Her leg nudged something warm, and she smiled. William. She didn't need to open her eyes to imagine how he looked: he slept with his mouth open a little, that cupid-bow upper lip set in a permanent grin. Waking up with him was becoming comfortable. Way too comfortable.
Frowning suddenly, she pinched the bridge of her nose. The marabou-feather headache was suddenly pounding.
Careful not to muss the intricate tangle of blankets and clothes and sheets, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, located a pair of semi-clean sweatpants in a pile near the closet, and grabbed a fresh tee-shirt from the newly washed basket. Pulling on clothes, she made her way down the short hallway.
Her left leg was halfway into the sweatpants when she heard the telephone ring. She stumbled, jamming her hip painfully against the umbrella-stand, but she managed to grab the cordless before the voicemail kicked in.
"Fucking hell," she thought, rubbing the sore spot on her hip and hoping she hadn't managed to wake William.
"G'morning," she said out loud, opening the heavy living room curtains with one hand.
"Giannina! It's your Mother," came the way-too-chipper-for-this-hour-of-the-morning thickly accented voice. Mom was a Jersey girl to the roots of her sure-it's-natural red hair. Her voice was also very similar to fingernails on a chalkboard: not something Nina wanted to hear first thing in the morning.
"Massive fucking hell," she repeated under her breath. Out loud she said, "Mama... What a surprise. I didn't expect to hear from you. Did I tell you I was on vacation?"
But Mama missed the hint. Didn't even try to catch it. She had other things on her mind.
"Giannina, è vero?" Mama said, almost a reprimand. But not quite. Nina tried really hard not to roll her eyes. She failed. The eyes were rolling.
"Good morning to you, too," Nina said dully, wondering at her mother's super-power ability to come right to the point. To some extent, Nina envied that talent. But not when it was aimed at her.
Padding back into the kitchen, Nina listened to her mother's voice in her ear.
"You haven't answered me yet: Is it true?" Mama asked again. Nina started a pot of strong coffee. Very strong. She was gonna need it.
"What are you talking about, Mama?" Nina asked, just to make her mother say it out loud.
"Your Aunt Fabrizia called this morning," Mom said archly, as if that explained everything.
"Yeah? What did she have to say?" Nina asked, eager now to just get this over with.
"She said Antonella called her. She was a Piso's last night. Ginnina, she said you have... a young man." Mom's voice was deadly serious. And bursting with unspoken suspicion and pride and ... probably a little assumption as well. Okay, a lot.
"Did
she really say that?" Nina *did* smile as she poured coffee into her cup
and stirred in a sugar cube. She didn't think of it as *having* William,
though technically she did last night.
Several times. She swallowed the steaming coffee, leaned against the tile
island, and continued, "Sì, Mama, è vero."
Her
mother's squeal was immediate and beatific. "I'm so happy, Giannina! You
have to invite him over for dinner, right Giancarlo? I'm cooking a pot
roast tonight..."
Nina heard scratches on the line and guessed that her Pop was listening
in.
Great. The mobster-wannabe had probably tapped his own phone line.
"I don't think so," Nina interrupted. Her Mama's voice squeaked off immediately, like a vinyl record being ripped off the stereo.
Nina sipped her coffee. "We've had this talk before, Mama. I'm still serious about my career. Nothing's changed. I'm not trying to land a husband here. So save the pot roast: This is just a fling."
She'd picked that phrase knowing it would shock her parents, hopefully into dropping the subject. What she didn't plan on was looking up and seeing Billy framed by the open doorway, his hair adorably mussed, his mouth slightly open. His eyes wide with surprise and dismay.
Shit.
"Look, Mama - and Pop, Hi Pop - I have to go. Call you later?"
"But..."
"Ciao Mama! Ti amo." Nina let the phone slide down in her grip, and she pressed the End button without looking at it. She couldn't look at anything but Billy's face, taut with questions.
"'Morning," she said lamely. Billy blinked. He ducked around her, poured himself a cup of coffee, and turned to sit in the breakfast nook. He stared hard at the surface of the coffee. After a few minutes, he took a long gulp, shuddered, then took another.
That was when Nina realized she was in deep shit. Billy wasn't a big coffee lover to begin with, and he *never* drank it black. Moving slowly, Nina sat opposite him.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked. A great conversationalist would get right to the point. Hell, even her tacky mother could come to the point. Nina just physically wasn't able.
Billy was.
"Yeah. I slept like a wee bairn all night, right next to ye, thinkin' ye might give a shit. Thinkin' I was a man, not a fling." His voice cut her soul to ribbons. Nina gulped hard.
"I didn't mean that," she said, softly.
"Ye lied to your mum? Give me some credit, lass; I'm no blind. Ye didna want me to meet your cousin last night; ye fidget like a rabbit in public, worried that someone ye know'll see us. And now ye tell yer mum that I'm just a fling. So I have a question for ye, Ginny," he said, staring at her hard. The lines on either side of his mouth were deep and his eyes glittered like pieces of clear, hard jade. He was serious.
Nina couldn't breathe. She nodded, indicating that he should go on.
"What am I to ye, really?"
My brave defender. The best lover I've ever had. My last shot at an exciting and beautiful life. Someone who makes me feel like a princess.
"Why
do you have to ask that?" she said instead, surprised by the whine in
her tone. "I *like* you, William. That should be obvious. But you don't
know a thing about my relationship with Mama and Pop. I'm a failure to
them because I'm not married with a brood of baptized miniature Catholics
and an ass the size of Brazil. So, yeah, I lie to her. Why not? If it
keeps her off my back."
Nina wanted to stop herself long before she finally ran out of breath.
Her logical brain knew that this wasn't the right time to say these things.
Her soul knew what he needed to hear. Problem was, she was terrified to
tell him. That she was millimeters away from falling head over ears in
love with him.
"Ye *like* me? The same ye'd like a cat or a dress or a an ice cream?" said Billy, not even trying to dampen his rage. How could he have been so stupid? How big was the possibility that he could find somebody special on blind chance, in casual encounter over in a bar? Yeah, right! His features turned to stone.
Nina felt her heart fall apart as she saw the expression in his face turn dangerous, the same one he had as he was fighting the thugs in London. Bur still, she wasn't ready to tell him her feelings. So the brilliant publicist kicked in.
"William, please, don't pass judgment on me yet. We are getting to know each other, right? We wanted to give us some time to see if this works out, that is the reason we came here and we are going to Glasgow ..." she spoke softly, trying to ease his temper.
"Why in bloody hell should we be going anywhere, Gin? What for? If we have just a fling and fantastic sex, why even bother?" Billy said, looking at her with all the hurt an anger he felt, not even bothering to play any part.
"Fuck, William, you aren't going to give me a chance, are you? I know I fucking blew it and I am trying to manage this best I can, and ..." she started, going in her mind all possible arguments she could find to ease and convince him, without having to talk about feelings and without having him leave her place and her life forever. It was not working.
Billy looked at her and almost smiled at her attempt of efficiently handle the situation. Ginny must be amazing at handling clients in her line of work. But he wasn't going to buy it. He was hurting, damn it, and his pride was ripped apart. He was a man, not a toy. Nobody's toy, not even the gorgeous woman's in front of him.
"Fuck? I guess THAT is what I am to you, Gin ... a great good fuck. Good enough to shag every moment you can spare of your vacation ... good enough to take you places and catch your fancy. Well, then, lass, let get into the efficiency of this arrangement. The toy wants now a good shag. And he is going to get it."
Nina was aware that she had to break his anger to get anywhere, but she was not expecting him to take things like that. She was hit by the look of his green eyes locked on hers while he moved deliberately to the place where she stood. Nina was caught, not able to command herself to move.
"We are going to have a great fuck, Ginny-love. NOW." He said, his voice low and sultry as he caught her hands in one of his behind her back and kissed her hard, in a merciless, bruising claiming of her mouth.
As Nina's brain registered that he was making his statement of property, she shook. She didn't want him to hurt her; she didn't want him to hate her. She still wanted him. But not like this.
She struggled against his hand holding her hands together, his other hand that was ripping her tee-shirt, and the angry lips and tongue conquering hers. But Billy didn't budge an inch. Nina only succeeded in having his body against hers, while he was arching her against the kitchen table. The feeling of his well-known, aroused body against hers made her shiver. He wouldn't hurt her, would he?
Billy left her mouth and his lips settled on her now bare breasts. He suckled a breast, hard, almost to the point of pain, and raked his teeth across the nipple. He heard her gasp and moan, her shivering body a feast for him. He felt her still tugging at his hand holding hers at her back, to no avail. He would not take but he would conquer. To show her the difference between making love and a fuck. And he would hear what she really felt for him from her lips before he was done. For better or for worse.
"William, please ...," she said, feeling desire like lightning in every nerve. She was at his mercy, since Billy knew her body well enough to play her until she was trembling with anticipation and need. For him.
Billy's free hand tugged at her pants, and they slid down to the floor. He lifted her onto the table, stepping between her legs. She felt him hard and ready against her entrance and involuntarily bucked against him, her body begging for completion.
He looked at her, and hesitated. He was in love with this woman, the one that only wanted him as a sex toy. A fling. But he had to know the truth from her very own lips, and then move on, whatever the outcome was.
"Ye want me, Gin, say it," He whispered against her neck, close to her ear.
"I want you, William," Nina answered obediently, and she truly did. Her skin was tingling and aching for his touch, her body screaming for his. Somewhere deep inside her brain, she registered that she was physically dependent on him. When did that happen?
William lips were curved in a sad smile as he entered her, sensing that she was ready. He tried to keep on thinking and not let himself drown into the sensations she provoked as her body welcomed him and pulled him into her. He was not making love to her, he had to remind himself, he was trying to prove a point and find out what she felt for him. Tell him what she wouldn't tell if she had her wits around her.
Billy was holding her arms now high above her head, as he moved in and out of her body, carefully building up her climax, keeping himself under control as far as he could. When Nina was on the brink, he slowed down again, to ride her up towards the edge again.
Nina was beyond coherent thoughts. She was shaking and he wouldn't bring her over the top. Damn him.
"William, please," she managed to say, feeling the pleasure building up almost beyond belief.
He stopped again, withdrawing almost completely from her. Nina groaned in frustration, locking her legs around him only to discover that she still couldn't keep him where she wanted him.
"Listen, Ginny, I will ask this once. And I want the truth. What am I to ye? What do ye feel for me?" he asked softly in her ear, as if telling a secret.
Nina's eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. He was not doing this to her. This could not be.
"Tell me, I need to know," Billy said again, this time hovering over her, still halfway in her body.
She clenched her eyes shut while the tears ran from the corners. There was much at stake. But she couldn't tell him.
Nina opened her big expressive eyes but no words came out of her mouth.
Billy saw that she was too stubborn. But what she didn't know was that her eyes told him what he wanted to hear. Feeling joy and relief flooding his senses, Billy plunged into her, bringing both to their climaxes.
She loved him.
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