Page 9 of A Treasure To Keep
“Marco, are you okay, baby? Here. Let me help you.” Gabby has made her way onto the bed, already naked, as she reaches for my belt. I hum in response, closing my eyes and imagine El’s hands on my belt. The problem is, her hands aren’t the same. Gabby’s nails are flat and blunt on top, while El’s nails are soft and rounded on top.
“Get a fucking condom out of my wallet and ride me.” Gabby inhales to respond, but I press a finger to her mouth, a red lip print coming with it. “Shhhhhh. No talking, more riding.”
I keep my eyes closed as a condom is rolled on me, and tightness surrounds my shaft. How does this woman stay tight after all the dick she’s had? She sets a solid rhythm, grinding her hips as she rides me. Normally, I’d help her, but I’m convinced she would burn my hands if I touched her.
When I close my eyes, New Year’s Eve flashes through my head. Mainly how El rode me as Andrea’s dick causes the perfect amount of pressure when he fucks her from behind. I’m close to coming when my hips thrust against hers. I spend time reminiscing about El’s drenched pussy, sweet moans, and how she tightened around me when I degraded her. Then there’s Andrea. My dick down his throat, the pressure from his dick when we fucked El, and his hands tightening on El’s hips when I said she would come for me.
“Keep going. I’m going to come. Fuck! El! Andrea!” I know Gabby hears what I say as I come. She continues to grind against me as I empty into the condom. The last thing I remember before passing out is the condom being removed and a body cuddling up to mine.
My pounding head is the first thing that registers in the morning, reminding me of the events of the night before. Someone shifts on the bed, followed by the smell of cherry and almond, when I remember last night. Fuck. Gabriella.
“Good morning, baby.” She moans and flexes her hand across my abs, tracing my tattoos until she’s reaching toward my half-hard dick, which is currently betraying me from her touch. Not cool, Little Marco. “Let me take care of you.”
“Get the fuck out, Gabby.” I remind myself to have a serious heart-to-heart with Little Marco about when to react to Gabby's touch.
“You need to make sure your dick is on the same page if you’re going to ask me to leave.” She goes to straddle me when I grab her, shoving her off me as I get out of bed. I place my handon the footboard, disoriented both by my hangover and by how quickly I got up. Once my eyes refocus, I slide on my pants from last night, throwing the door open and leaving a naked Gabby in the bed. She’ll either leave or find someone else to fuck. In the meantime, I need to solve this shit between El and Andrea. I can’t be the reason behind the end of their relationship.
Chapter 7
El
“Hello? Mr. Hansley? I can’t come in today. I’m sick.” I give him the best fake cough I can to ideally convince him that I’m genuinely sick. I’m technically not lying. I am sick, but it’s not physical; it’s emotional. I can’t handle seeing Andrea today. I can’t shake his facial expression when I told him what happened. I can’t lose him.
“El, you and Andrea are putting me in a tough spot with the two of you being sick.” Wait? Andrea is sick? “Get better, I guess. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Once we hang up, I make plans to hide in my room all day. I turn on my stereo, playing the music that matches my shattered heart. When this playlist ends, I’ll Russian roulette through my list of sad movies until the sun sets.
Several hours later, the playlist has three songs left when footsteps come barreling down the hall, and my door bursts open. My mamma makes an appearance on the other side of the door, gripping the doorframe. And I thought I knew how tomake a dramatic appearance. Maybe I am more like my mamma than I’d ever admit out loud.
“Eleanora Marie! What are you doing in bed? It’s 11 a.m. Never mind that. You have a very handsomeItalianman at the door wanting to see you.” She rummages through my closet, searching for something.
“Do you own anything with a normal neckline? If you expect this man to show any serious interest in marriage, you need to wear something that shows less chest. And what is this? I cannot imagine this skirt is long enough to cover anything. Here it is! Put on this, fix your face, and come downstairs immediately! Also, you know better than to have your hair up. It makes you appear messy. A lady is never messy. Your papa and I will distract him while you’re getting ready. Oh! I’m so excited!” She runs out of my room, practically slamming the door on her way out. Who would be at the door that my mamma is that excited about?
After taking my time getting ready, I drag myself downstairs in the conservative scoop neck A-line dress I wore to Christmas Mass last year. I swear, if the one man I hate more than Marco is here, I’m going to break his nose. On the other hand, if he were, Mamma would have told me he was here by name.
Papa is laughing and shooting the shit with someone in our kitchen, and I recognize the other voice almost immediately. Fucking. Marco. That’s almost worse than who I thought it could be. Anger surges through me as I stomp my way into the kitchen, noticing a shaggier than normal Marco sitting at our kitchen table. Even with his messy appearance, he’s still annoyingly charming while he drinks espresso with my papa.
Marco’s here, in my house, laughing with my papa. Papa and Marco both turn their heads toward me at the same time while I stand in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed and annoyance on my face.
Papa stands and offers me his chair, going to stand with my mamma, who’s throwing some food together. “Eleanora, please come and have a seat. Mr. Cornado was telling me about his job. It’s pretty impressive working in tech and security for such a large company.”
Yeah, ‘large company.’ Let’s call it that.
“What the fuck do you want, Marco?” Mamma slams down the knife she’s using to cut tomatoes on the cutting board. I can hear the subtle sound of the tomato juices when she does. Wow, she’s mad. Oops.
“Eleanora Marie Gallo! That is not how you treat a guest!” Yet again, my mouth has gotten me into trouble.
“No worries, Mrs. Gallo, I have the same filthy mouth. El knows about that firsthand.” He licks his lips, shame radiating through me when I clench my pussy at the thought of him eating me out. But seriously, after yesterday, he’s going to pull that?
I have to get Marco out of here. “You’re right, Mamma, my apologies. Marco, can I speak to you outside?Alone.”
“Of course. Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Gallo. Thank you for the espresso. I cannot wait to have some of that delicious food.” I am going to castrate this man.
I drag him outside into the pool house, ideally, preventing Mamma from hearing our conversation. Knowing her, she will prop open the back door, attempting to eavesdrop anyway. Hence, the reason why I shut the door.
The second the door slams shut, I whip around, facing Marco’s stupidly handsome face. “Why the fuck are you here?”
“I can’t come visit my favorite female stylist? Also, might I say, wow, your mom’s hot. Congratulations on your future. Is your nonna that hot?” He licks his lips again, except the flash of his tongue ring is missing. Did he take it out?