Authors: Lonaire Drummond
“You have beautiful feet. These little piggies look a little lonesome,” he said, reaching for her other foot.
Adele squealed as he massaged her right foot and then placed it in his skilled mouth.
“That feels amazing,” Adele said.
“I’m just beginning.” He kissed his way lightly up her thigh.
When he stopped at the apex of her thighs, she sighed in expectation. Ambrogio laughed and descended down her body again so he could do the same with the other leg. He took the long way up her other leg, stopping to kiss her calf and the underside of her knee.
However, he wasted no time when he dived tongue first into her sex. On reflex, Adele’s legs crossed around his head. Ambrogio, wanting complete access to all of her, unhooked her legs from around his neck and spread them as far as they would go before he licked her over and over again in a circular motion. His moans of appreciation vibrated throughout her body.
Adele placed a pillow over her head, screaming as he captured clit in his mouth, sucking it and refusing to let go. She alternated between screaming in the pillow and removing it, begging him to stop despite the pleasure she felt. The world went black as she came. She had barely recovered when she felt the tip of his penis at her entrance.
“Are you alright?” He removed the pillow. Adele refocused on Ambrogio. Lips slick with her juices, hair mussed and desire dancing darkly in his eyes, he looked beautiful.
“And if I’m not, will your penis cure me?” Adele was in a playful mood.
He answered with a swift thrust. Her back arched off the bed. As quickly as he entered her, he pulled out. Adele pouted at his abrupt departure from her body. He reached for a discarded pillow and told her to lift her hips, allowing him enough room to strategically place it under her ass, and after waiting for her to complete the task, he positioned himself above her; Ambrogio’s eyes searched hers his entire decent into her body.
“Wrap yourself around me,” he said.
She did what he asked, and they made love that way for several minutes, his manhood pushing and pulling past her secret spot. Her stomach turned flip-flops, her legs shook, her hips gyrated to the rhythm of his love-making. He rose up, gathered her up in his arms, momentarily unseating himself from her depths.
Now in a semi-squatting position with his knees slightly elevated, Ambrogio slammed Adele down onto his turgid penis, the pathway leading to mutual orgasms changed course from around the corner to straight ahead after he shifted upward, change the angel of his stroke all together.
Sated after one more round of sex, Ambrogio held Adele in his arms.
“I missed you. I could not stop thinking about you when I left St. Lucia, but I felt you were better off without me.”
“It’s true. I probably would have been better off leaving you alone. I don’t regret coming here, but I do regret getting Robynne involved.”
“Sex is out of our system. We can focus on the Fleur-de-lys.” Ambrogio said.
“I’m a terrible friend. Instead of looking for Robynne, I’m here, having sex with you. Why does being around you cloud my judgement?”
“I feel the same way about you. Thinking becomes the last thing I want to do when I am around you.”
“Our lack of focus might get Robynne killed,” Adele said.
“I think with some planning, and with the help of some of my best guards, we can uncover the masterminds of this scheme, find Robynne, and manage to keep this out of the press.”
Adele used her elbow to support as she stared down at Ambrogio. “I think we should do the exact opposite.”
“Nothing you say will change my mind.” Ambrogio said.
“Hear me out.”
“Why do you insist on wasting your breath?”
Adele ignored him. “The Fleur-de-lys move in shadows. They don’t want the spotlight shined on them. We should publicize the kidnapping and their threats against your family. We could portray them as the wackos they really are and get the public’s sympathy. My plan will flush them out. You could even offer a reward. It would just be a matter of time before someone will come forward with information.”
“Absolutely no police or media involvement. We would never survive the scandal. No one will do business with us ever again. We handle this my way, under the least amount of scrutiny from the press or the police as possible. My contact can get us a few military trained men. They are special forces. This kind of thing is their speciality. Robynne will be safe and my family’s dignity will remain untarnished.”
“Listen to me, Ambrogio.”
“Your idea is impulsive and dangerous. There are too many factors to consider; too many ways it could go wrong. What if we upset them and they kill Robynne?”
“They threatened to kill her anyway. At least with my plan, we would take an active role in bringing her back. She’s always saving me. It’s time for me to return the favor.” Adele said.
“I won’t compromise everything my family has built for all of these centuries, so you can play the hero. We will do it my way. I need a few days to get a team together and devise a plan.”
“Whatever you say, Ambrogio.”
Chapter 35
An argument with Ambrogio was fruitless, and Adele knew it. Once again she settled in his arms, laying against his chest for what seemed like hours until she heard his breaths even out, signaling his full ascent into sleep; her ideas about how to save Robynne serving as her only companion.
Careful not to wake Ambrogio, Adele eased herself out the bed, inch by inch, until she was well out of his reach. Cesare’s journal lay open where she had thrown it in her haste to get into his pants. Quickly dressing in the dark, she looked to him for what she hoped wasn’t the last time.
“I love you too. Please forgive me.” She whispered, exiting the room. In the hallway, she put her shoes on, checked to see if her clothes were on correctly, secured the journal under her arm and then jogged through the hallways. She hoped she was going in the right direction. After a few setbacks, she made her way towards the security office.
Adele smooth down her sex-hair and approached a pencil-faced guard. “
Buona notte
, I need you to call me a taxi.”
Her was voice saccharine sweet. All of the other guards milling around quickly took notice.
“We can drive you wherever you need to go.” he said without meeting her eyes.
“I don’t want to be a bother. I just need to get something, and I will be right back. Mr. Argentero never has to know,” Adele said.
“This is Florence, not the states. You won’t find a Walmart here. Besides, I’m sure you can borrow some condoms from Luca. He has quite a collection. He even has glow in the dark condoms.” He said, sending the rest of the guards into a round of of laughter.
“You’re very presumptuous. I wonder how Mr. Argentero would feel about you speaking to me in such a manner. Let’s wake him and find out, shall we?”
The guard with the pushed-in face did as she asked. Adele, waiting outside, thought about how she would get past the guard posted in front of the hotel.
The streets were practically empty with the exception of a man or couple hugged up here and there. That fact made her escape back to the hotel a very expeditious one. As expected, the guard was alarmed at her sudden appearance.
“Mr. Argentero and I had a terrible fight. I came here to cool off for the night,” Adele said.
“I must call him to confirm, Ms. Jaspers,” The guard said.
“You can call if you like, but I doubt he wants to be disturbed. He’s in a really bad mood.”
The guard considered what she said for a moment, then cleared the path leading to the hotel’s front door.
“Could you tell your friend upstairs what I said? I’ve had a long night, and I don’t care to repeat myself.”
Alone, Adele laid down with the journal hugged tightly against her chest. She knew in her heart what she was doing would bring Robynne home. If her friend’s safe returned occurred meant the demise of her budding relationship with Ambrogio, then so be it.
A fitful night of sleep behind Adele, it was now time to accomplish her mission. She located the headquarters of Florence’s oldest and most renowned newspaper, La Nazione--her plan B--using Robynne’s laptop. After taking a cab to the police smack-dab in the city of Florence, she spared no time trying to find Giacoppo. Several policeman congregated outside, more still were roaming the halls when she entered the station. An officer standing behind a desk motioned her forward.
“
Una Americana
! Good morning, May I help you?” The officer said, his thick accent obscuring some words.
“Yes, where can I find Investigator Falconi?”
“What do you want with him?” Another officer who had walked up to the desk asked, his English more refined. Adele didn’t have to perk up her ears when he spoke.
“I need his help.” Adele said.
“
Vai rispondere al telefono,
” he told the first officer who walked away.
“It’s important. Life and death.” Adele grabbed onto the desk to keep her hands from shaking.
“You were at La Borgata yesterday, if I recall correctly? Ambrogio’s girlfriend, no?” He was just in his early thirties, but the grey had already set up a home in his dark hair.
“No. I mean yes.” Adele said.
“Which is it?”
“No, I’m not his girlfriend, and yes, I was at La Borgata yesterday.”
“Lover’s quarrel? You seemed very familiar with each other yesterday. I could have sworn you two were....together?”
“It’s none of your business. Can you direct me to Falconi or not?” Adele fidgeted from one foot to another.
“Felicità is a kind woman, don’t you think?” The officer intertwined his fingers on the desk.
“Yes, she is a very special woman,” Adele said.
My wife was hit by a motorcycle while crossing the street. She was seven months pregnant.”
“I’m very sorry to hear about your wife’s accident, but I don’t know what you’re getting at,” Adele said.
“Felicità saw the whole thing. She stayed with my wife until an ambulance came.”
“She’s a compassionate woman,” Adele said.
“I’m not done. She followed the ambulance to the hospital, stayed with my wife, provided for her care at a very advance facility until the baby was born--”
“Sir.” Adele knew exactly where this was going.
Not at all fazed by Adele’s interruption, the officer continued. “Unfortunately, my wife never regained consciousness, but my son is strong and healthy, thanks to the Argentero’s kindness.”
“I understand what you’re trying to tell me.” Adele backed away from the desk.
“I’m glad to be of service. Have a nice day. Go Lakers!” He said, sending her off.
Chapter 36
For plan B, armed with her instant press pass, Cesare’s journal, Adele procured another taxi and soon found herself at the newspaper’s door. The building didn’t strike her as particularly earth shattering. Other than a small directory in the lobby and the pungent odor of ink, there was no indication a newspaper existed on the premises.
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears and her palms moistened. The level of worry increasing with every elevator ding. She wiped her hands down her khaki pants and stepped off the elevator on the fourth floor. The office was just as Adele had expected it to be. The U-shaped Cubicle’s lined up in two neat rows of six, feasting on it’s occupants, who for the most part, were busy tapping away at their keyboards. No one gave her as much as a cursory glance as she walked down the hallway. She looked for someone who seemed important, authoritative and bored.
A keg-shaped candidate fitting the criteria soon came into view. The man sat at his desk with his hand against his chin, anchoring his head up. Thick hairs creeped up his arm, in fact, the only visible body part not significantly overgrown was his head. A head which was as round, red, and shiny as a Fuji apple.
If Adele wasn’t certain she had found the right person before, the words “Editor” in Italian on a placard next to his door signaled she had hit the jackpot. After a few seconds of her lightly knuckling at his door, he cast an annoyed glance in her direction.
“Cosa?” He said, looking behind her.
“Mi Scusa, ho una storia potrebbe interessanti.” Adele said.
She hoped he would be interested in her story. If not, she would have to go down her list of tabloids and newspapers until someone wanted to take on her story.
He stood up, approaching her with caution. “Are you American?”
“What gave it away?” Adele asked.
“Your terrible accent.” His voice was like sandpaper, rough and prickly.
Adele held up the diary. “I think you want to hear what I have to say.”
He walked around her. “What I want to hear is how a interloper could pass by all you idiots without even a hint of detection. She could be a murderer, a communist or even worse, a feminist.”