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I shake my head and focus on the task at hand, setting a pot of water on the stove to boil. I enjoy cooking simple meals with fresh ingredients; I find it relaxing after a day at work. I wash the clams and pack the sea bass’s gut with chopped fennel and sliced lemon. Then I add spaghetti to the boiling water. I fry sliced garlic, chopped tomatoes and parsley in a pan with olive oil until the garlic has started to color. The clams go in next with a dollop of white wine. I give everything a good shake and put the lid on. When the clams begin to open, I drain the pasta and add it to the sauce.
“First course is ready,” I call out, placing the sea bass in the oven to bake.
Marco has laid the table, and he comes into the kitchen to help me bring the food through. “What do you think of Sefi?” he whispers in my ear.
“She’s beautiful. Too beautiful, maybe…”
“What do you mean by that?” His tone is sharp.
“She’s not at all like the easy women we’ve fucked together in the past.”
“Maybe that’s where we’ve gone wrong,” he smirks.
I steal a glance at her. She’s standing by the window, her back to us, gazing out at the view of the Grand Canal. Her dress pants are stretched tight across her peachy ass. Her white shirt is nipped in at the waist. She has the body of a goddess and just the sight of it makes my cock jump.
She turns as we approach. “Anything I can do?” she asks.
I place the bowl of pasta down on the table. “Just take a seat and help yourself.”
We join her and heap our plates high.
Marco, ever the charmer, tells her about our love of running and we learn that she likes to dance rock ‘n roll for exercise.
“We can put on our playlist and work off some calories after dinner, if you like,” he winks. “Alessio is a great dancer.”
“Sure,” she giggles. “Sounds good…”
Drinks always make conversation between relative strangers so much easier, but I hold back on the Prosecco while Sefi and Marco partake of several glasses each. They chat about their families, and I listen. Call me a broody bastard, but I make no excuse for my reticence. I’m a police officer and I’ve learned caution. Marco is an open book, completely candid in most situations. I sense Sefi warming to him even more as the meal progresses.
Time to remind her about what’s what.
Marco and I stand to clear the plates and I press my body against his before brushing a quick kiss to his lips.
She’s staring at us, her pupils enormous.
The wine has made her openly curious.
She’s imagining us fucking. I can see it in her eyes. She licks her lips and her face flushes as she folds her arms to hide the fact that her nipples have almost certainly puckered.
Maybe this Seraphim angel isn’t as pure as she appears?* * *After we’ve finished eating and have loaded the dishwasher, Marco puts on ChiMera’s latest hit, Harbor in the Storm, and I say to Sefi, “Dance with me?”
She smiles and does a twirl in the middle of the floor. “I love this song.” Her eyes shine. “My sister is the stylist for the band and I have all their albums.”
I reach for her hand and pull her toward me, twirling and swinging her in time to the music. We break apart for a couple of seconds, shuffling and stepping. Marco moves toward us and I twirl her into his arms. They rock together momentarily and then he spins her back to me.
The song ends, but Ghost in the Heart follows and we carry on dancing. Marco and I pass Sefi back and forth between us. I pull her into my chest, then push her away so he can claim her and do the same.
The next song, The Alchemist, is slow. I hold her close, my hand firmly gripping hers and the other circling her waist. Marco comes up behind her, places his hands low on her hips. He reaches around her body to grasp my ass and we dance together, the three of us.
She’s quiet. What is she thinking?
Marco’s hard-on must be pressed into her butt.
She lifts her face and her eyes meet mine. I see the question there, but I also see the desire.
I tilt my head and kiss her.
She gasps but doesn’t pull away.
I open my mouth and she opens hers, our tongues dancing while our bodies rock.
Marco lets go of my ass and I spin her around so he can kiss her too.
I watch them, watch his mouth meet hers hungrily, and my balls tighten.
I lean in and slide my fingers up her thighs to cup her peachy asscheeks.
She breaks away from Marco, her eyes wide. “I thought you were both gay.”
