AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It means, you've ignited a fire in my soul, Bianca. And if we don’t leave immediately, we won’t be going at all.”
Her lips widen in a smile, and she takes my hand and leads me toward the door. She keeps smiling in the car as we leave the garage, and I’m wondering what could be on her mind when she leans in and whispers in my ear.
“I don’t... have panties.”
The car swerves, but I manage to righten it, barely avoiding the concrete pillar on the side. When I have it under control, I turn toward Bianca to find her leaning back in her seat, wearing a self-satisfied smirk on her face.
* * *
There are four large tents set up on the expansive manicured lawn. At least two hundred guests are milling around long tables covered in white cloth, chatting with each other, laughing at what are probably lame jokes. Most of them are Italians. Some of them I remember seeing at our wedding reception. There are also a few politicians. An interesting lot for sure.
In the middle of the largest group stands a small frail woman, wearing a poison-green dress and a strange spiky thing on top of her head of grey hair. An extremely attractive and young man—probably in his mid-twenties—has his arm wrapped around her waist and whispering something into the woman's ear.
Bianca squeezes my hand, and I look down at her to find her smiling widely, motioning with her head toward the woman in a green dress. I guess that would be the famous Nonna Giulia.
We approach the group, and I take note of each person who enters my field of vision, cataloging anything even remotely suspicious. I don’t like crowds, but I’m not a fan of wide-open spaces either. Both are a security risk.
Bianca’s grandmother turns, and the moment she notices us, she giggles in delight like a little girl, then hurries over to us. Her young companion trails after her.
“Bianca! You are late!” She kisses Bianca on both cheeks, then turns to me. “I see you brought your husband. Handsome. Tall. Fit.” She leans in slightly, regarding me. “You picked good,tesoro.”
Not only crazy but blind as well, apparently. I nod. “I’m glad you approve, Mrs. Mancini.”
“Oh God, no. Just call me Nonna. Mrs. Mancini sounds like an old woman’s name. And I divorced two months ago, anyway,” she says and makes a shooing motion to the young man standing next to her. “Go get something to eat, Tony. I’ll find you later.”
The guy nods and leaves without question.
“I hired him specifically for today. The young ones are expensive, but it’ll be so worth it. Bruno is going to lose it.” She smiles widely, and I’m not sure that she’s not a little bit nuts.
Bianca takes out her phone, types, and gives it to Giulia, who looks at the screen, then up at Bianca.
“Of course. Why, do you have something against gigolos? It’s honest work. Oh, there is Luca Rossi. It’s too bad he’s already married. Such a fine male specimen.” She narrows her eyes. “Is that Franco with him? I hear he divorced his wife last month, so it’s open season. I have to go.”
I look down at Bianca, who is shaking her head as she watches her grandmother rushing toward the man, presumably Franco.
“She is just fooling around.”Bianca signs. “Let’s go find a place to sit.”
We choose one of the miraculously free tables on the side, and watch the crowd in silence. The waiter brings our drinks, and Bianca reaches for my glass, moving it from my right side to the left. I don’t think she did it consciously, because she looks too focused on picking out acanapéfrom the plate in front of us. She must have noticed that I don’t keep drinks on my blind side. Strange how she doesn’t seem to care that her husband only has one eye. I know very well what a mess my right eye is, so I still expect her to recoil when she wakes up in my arms and looks up at me. But she just smiles and goes back to sleep for a few more minutes. My Bianca is not a morning person.
There are a lot of men around, and Bianca looks especially desirable in that dress today. And with nothing underneath.
I grab her chair and pull it closer to me. “Baby,”—I bend to whisper in her ear—“come sit on my lap.”
I look up at Mikhail, raise an eyebrow, then get up and stand between his legs. He taps his left thigh, and looks at me pointedly like he is daring me. Mikhail never does anything without a reason, and I’m curious what he has in mind, so I turn and sit down on his leg.
“Quite a crowd. Your nonna is popular,” he says.
His hand finds the slit of my dress, and the next second, there is a touch of a finger on my knee, then it slowly travels higher over the inner side of my thigh. It lingers there for a moment, then starts going up. He’s crazy. I blink and turn my head to look at him.
“Something wrong?” he asks, his face the embodiment of calm and innocence, as if he doesn’t have his hand buried between my legs.
I take the side of my dress, throw the length of fabric over his hand and forearm, and look back toward the mass of guests. Two can play this game.
“I wonder,” he says quietly as his finger reaches my naked core and presses onto my clit. “Will they find our sitting arrangement proper?”
I take a deep breath and open my legs slightly, thankful for the table hiding us from view.
“You know, I’ve noted at least twenty men undressing you with their eyes since we got here,” he whispers, and suddenly, his finger enters me. “I don’t like that, Bianca.”
