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In a swift move, I’m on my feet again. I take her hand and twirl her around; her ass claps back against me. My hand runs against the nape of her neck and down her back as I’m pushing her down. An old classic, “Doggy Style” blurs to the speakers at the precise moment I’m fucking her back out through her jeans.
All the loud talk she was doing has ended. She’s blessed and humbled. Stars shimmer in her eyes as I lead her to a chair. I wink.Next time, wait for me to get to you.She pulls out wads of cash from her bra, lifting them to me like the money is all she has of worth in her entire life.
* * *
A few days later,twinkling diamonds surround me. A broad that looks like a classic flight attendant glances me up and down. Disapproving eyes stop on my jeans, and she tells me, “I know exactly what you need.” She sweeps an arm over to a larger display oftinierand less than flawless diamonds.
No, the fuck you don’t.“Sweetheart,” I snarl-smile at her. “Those are too tiny for what I have in mind. Show me the one spinning in the window.”
A while later, we’re discussing a payment plan for the princess-cut diamond when my cell phone lights up. Gina’s calling. I smile, gesturing to my phone, and step over a few paces.
As soon as I answer, Gina asks, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
I bite my fist.
There’s laughter in Gina’s voice when she says, “I found your Santa suit.”
“Oh, . . . that . . .”
“Listen, just because I disclosed the Christmas tree disaster doesn’t mean that you have togo all outfor the holiday. As a matter of fact, I’m contemplating ghosting a few people this Christmas.”
I rub the back of my neck, slightly relieved. “Not me, though.”
“Not unless you learn a few dance moves. You wear this Santa outfit and attend to me unlike you did at that seedy ass nightclub . . .”
I laugh softly. “You’re still on that?”If you only knew . . .
“Until the end of time, Santino. Learn a couple of moves, or I’m hoofing it with Geraldine and Zane for the remainder of the holiday. The third wheel in Jamaica sounds refreshing to me.”
“Watching your sister and her man—”
“Hey, I dubbed you Dirty Santa, not Creepy Santa. Wash that mouth out.”
I groan from deep in my throat. “Spread those pussy lips later tonight. I will.”
She sighs. “I miss you, Santino.”
“Bella . . .”
“Honestly, I do. Not the ‘miss you because I haven’t seen you in a while,’ but the one where I wish you were here, though I had you just this morning. I’m so stingy.” Gina groans. “We’re a week into cohabitating, and I still find a way to miss you. There isn’t a single person in the universe that I have ever wanted more than I want you, right now.”
“Gina, baby.” I run a hand over my jaw. “Where are you?”
She chuckles. “Ha, next thing, I’ll be kidnapped by none other than you. I’ll see you tonight. I’ve got some bitch ranting to do first.”
The attendant glowers impatiently as if waiting for me to sign away my soul for the ring. I lift my index finger. She’ll wait.
I speak into the phone, “Tell me.”
“No, thank you. I’d rather not be known as the Grinch to you.”
“Heh, Bella, if it matters to you, I’m all in.”
“Santino. . .” her voice breaks.
32
Gina
