Repercussions - Part Twelve(A continuation of ‘The Bet’)…..It had been nearly a w

Repercussions - Part Twelve(A continuation of ‘The Bet’)…..It had been nearly a week since the fiasco at the apartment. Eleonora had since moved out, for once in her life afraid of Franco and of just what he might do if he found her still there. She had heard the stories rolling about the town.This was a small community and every ear was at everyone else’s wall, every eye upon you as you walked down the street, whispered lips moving constantly as you passed bye. She had heard of Franco’s treatment of poor Simone. Although few if any had anything nice at all to say about her wounded and now suddenly homeless cousin. Most people had commented that he had finally gotten what was coming to him. Eleonora was honestly in shock to discover some of the things they said but none of it seemed to surprise her in the least. The man was always a selfish leech and part of her was proud that Franco had tossed him down that fucking staircase. She swore out a curse as she hurled the last of the cardboard boxes into the corner of the storage unit. Franco had told her to get all of her things out of the apartment. All of them. Whatever was left would be tossed into the trash. He had come to the apartment once during the week, not to talk or to make any attempt to repair their shattered marriage, but simply to see how far she had come in packing up her things. He had arranged everything. A courtesy, he had said. Boxes, a moving van, a storage unit in the next town, along with two large and strong men to help her with the work. Men he was sure she would enjoy, he had said, an angry sneer in his voice which she had never before heard. One that she found slightly terrifying when she had heard it. And somehow exciting. She had never seen Franco as cruel or callous. Never seen him as anything but mild and loving… and, yes, a bit conservative. Yet now she heard those back-handed whispers of him and Pamela. Of midnight shouts to wake the neighbors, of the two of them getting caught fucking like animals behind the basilica, of her bouncing head beneath his blanket at the beach as she swallowed his load with the brightest of smiles. Eleonora sat down on one of the larger boxes, biting her lips softly, wondering to herself where that man had been while their marriage was alive. Why was he, for Pamela, this wonderfully crude and hungry beast while with her… with her was he this way as well? Only needing her own eager appreciation to bring it out, her own honesty of what she truly desired him to be? Against her will, she thought of the two of them together. That terrible sight of them fucking in their bed. Of the way Pamela’s naked body had shuddered and collapsed into him so very erotically as Franco drove his bare cock into her, driving his seed up into her body with each grunting thrust. She had held him tight, called his name. Given herself to him so completely. When was the last time she herself had given him that? Had taken his seed and his lust and called out his name, thinking of him and no other. Not having desire for other men with other names in her thoughts as Franco had flooded her with his sex. When was the last time she had told him she adored him above all others? That all the hard cocks in the world meant nothing to her without him to come home to? Heaven help her, she was not quite sure.She sat there in that lonely storage bin for nearly an hour, not wanting to leave. Not wanting to go back into the street with all its prying, judgmental eyes and gossiping mouths. She had nowhere to go in any case. No where except back to the apartment of her cousins who were kind enough to take her in. They had an extra bedroom for her since their son had left to go to college in Milan. It was a small room and the sheets and pillows still smelled of him. That first night when she had discovered that manly scent, she had buried her face into the pillow to breathe it in. She missed having Franco lying next to her. missed the comforting feel of his presence. His hairy arm across her thigh. The scent of him as she lay across his chest or drew his pillow to herself on those rare weekends she slept in while he was jogging or biking up and down the coast. That first night she had drawn her nephew’s pillow to her longingly, had thought of Franco, had thought of his hand pulling her in close with words of lustful need on his lips. Words she had not heeded in far too long it seemed. If only she had listened, she thought. If only she had seen the sad look on his face. His needs and desires. The terrible pain he had endured for her. Always for her. With a fatal finality, she brought down the gate and placed the padlock onto the bin door. There were security cameras installed everywhere guarding each lane and corridor leading towards the elevator. The better to discourage the thieves and rapists that seemed to be everywhere these days. It was one of the better facilities in the area and Franco had assured her three free months of its use. A small concession for leaving her without a home, without a bed, and without the scent of his sweat to greet her each morning for the rest of her life. She pictured them together once again, unable to shake the image from her head. Pamela was hugging him tight as he lay resting between her arms, breathing him in as she planted small kisses along his neck. Smiling as she claimed him, captured him forever in her bed… between her legs. Possibly forever. Eleonora could not even go to work. The spa had been shut down by the police on Monday morning. All the girls working there had been arrested for prostitution or drug use. She still remembered hiding herself in the crowds, her scarf around her face, as she watched the girls being pulled out one by one screaming and crying. Oh, how badly she wanted to see Pamela and Chiara being dragged out as well but neither one of them was there. Still, the place was locked down tight and in the next few days an ‘Under New Ownership’ sigh had appeared on its doors. Eleonora had called up Giovanni immediately, frantically, wondering what would happen to her job of so many years. Or worse, if the police were looking for herself as well. She kept the books after all. Played with the figures, paid the girls, set up their disgusting clients. She hammered the numbers on the phone again only to get busy signals time after time. It was only that evening, sitting alone cross-legged on her cousin’s bed and holding that pillow tight to her chest, did she finally get through on the line. When the phone at the end picked up and she heard Giovanni’s tired voice it was like a weight had been lifted.The news that he had to tell her did nothing to help Eleonora’s situation though. Giovanni was through in this town. Under several court investigations he had been forced to sell off all of his properties and businesses in the area and was on his way to start fresh in Venice where he still owned a few smaller spas. New owners had taken over the spa, ones that had promised both he police and the neighborhood a cleaner and more decent place to liven the area. Fuck them all. She could hear Giovanni muttering curses under his breath, cursing at the traffic as he made his way up the Adriatic coast and across to the west coast through the night. Eleonora hung up quietly. Whatever lay in store for her now, Giovanni was not going to be part of it. The man would be lucky to survive until morning the way the madman drove. A soft rapping at her door announced that supper was ready, although she was in no mood to eat. Eleonora sat at the table avoiding the eyes of her cousins, hoping neither would ask anything further of her day. Maybe, she hoped, they would be good enough to stay quiet and to let her finish picking at her plate. Good enough to allow her the grace to disappear behind the door of her small borrowed room. What she needed most now was a good night’s sleep and a fresh look on tomorrow. What she did not need were prying questions asked by caring relatives that would rip the scars off her open wounds. Unfortunately, that was exactly what she received.“Eleonora, look…I…” Cousin Lisa was not the most direct nor bravest of people and had to find the strength to go on with a worried and noticeable glance at her husband. Alberto had married into the family when he wed Cousin Lisa and had spent the last few years quietly in the background sitting back nursing his wine while their family discussed their business around him. He never interfered nor offered advice. Instead he simply pushed Lisa to say what was necessary and sat back quietly sipping his wine. Just like he was doing now. “I… I know its none of my… our business what happened with you and Franco. These things happen all the time, right? But you must pull yourself together. Now, does this Giovanni person owe you any back pay or anything?”“Forget Giovanni.” Eleonora replied softly. Although she never looked up from her plate, the words were directed more towards Alberto than to Lisa. These were his words after all, despite coming out of Lisa’s mouth, “There will be no money coming from him. If the police catch up to him, he will be spending all of his money on lawyers… or a plane ticket to Egypt.”Lisa seemed lost at first, casting another long glance at her husband before continuing. She was never the most forceful nor the most decisive person in the family and had come to lean hard on her Alberto’s opinions. In a way Eleonora envied them. Whatever they needed to say to each other could be said through tiny gestures and glancing looks. It was a form of married telepathy that few others had ever mastered. So, when Lisa did speak, everyone knew it was with the full understanding of her husband’s wishes, “Oh, I see. But that does not mean anything for you does it? It’s not like the police are…”“I don’t know really.” Eleonora replied calmly, still staring into her cold zucchini, “Maybe. It all depends I guess.”“Oh. Well, you know what I was thinking?” Lisa chirped, another glance at her husband later, “That new owner. Well he or she doesn’t know you, do they? I mean, you practically ran the place from all you’ve told me. Maybe they will let you stay on. You’ve always said you dreamed of the day that place was run like a real spa and not a… a… well, you know. Maybe this is your chance to be a part of something that you will enjoy for a change. It’s worth a shot isn’t it?”“Maybe. I suppose so.” Encouraged by her small victory, Lisa droned on happily, “Yes. I think you should do just that. Get a job that suits you, rebuild your confidence, get an apartment for yourself. Alberto and I will be happy to help, won’t we mi’amore?”Eleonora smiled weakly, easily seeing through to Lisa’s thinly hidden meaning. Alberto wanted his extra room back. Their three children were finally out of the fucking house and he wanted to build a bar in there or a jacuzzi or whatever the hell he was into. He had little patience for her intrusion into his happy little home and wanted her out as soon as possible. It had been nearly a week now and the last thing he wanted in his home was some penniless, jobless in-law underfoot. Especially one stained by a ruined marriage and the possibility of the police knocking at his door. It could have been worse, of course. Much worse. In the end, Eleonora nodded her head in agreement and finished off the last of her plate. The evening went on with her helping Lisa with the dishes as Alberto retired to the living room to watch his beloved Milan, cursing at the TV set as he folded and re-folded his torn newspaper. Lisa was a talker. She talked about the neighbors, the family, the way the streets had practically flooded with last week’s rain, the price of milk rising in the market, how her three children were doing in college. Everything but what she really wanted to know. Things that Eleonora was never ever going to share. As they finished up the kitchen, she could see the frustration in her cousin’s eyes. She had been here for a week, sleeping in their home, eating their food and not one morsel of gossip to share with the rest of the family. How damned fucking rude of her!So it was that the next morning found Eleonora dressed in her smartest pant-suit, hastily typed resume in hand, walking through the downtown streets of the town trying to feel confident about her future. Perhaps Lisa, or rather Alberto, was right. Perhaps the new owners would see her as a professional with years of experience running a spa under the worst of all circumstances. Maybe, just maybe, they would give her a chance at redeeming herself. Her bad luck had to end somewhere after all. The worst she had to face was a simple ‘No, thank you’. That and the judging eyes of every bitch in the town as they watched her walk by, each one of them burning to share their cruel thoughts with an equally cruel bitch of a neighbor. Despite it all, and the fact that she had perhaps enough cash left to buy a coffee and a magazine, Eleonora turned the corner towards the spa with a hopeful air. The spa’s new owners, whoever they were, had certainly gone to work when they bought the place. Although the new sign had yet to be revealed, the entire front of the place had been white-washed and painted. Huge ferns flanked both sides of the doors and even the street itself had been power-washed clean. The entire facade just screamed that it was under new ownership, which made the large red and white ‘Under New Ownership’ sign hanging at the front look a bit superfluous. The inside of the building had been practically gutted too. Newer, thicker walls had been installed and the greeting area had been redesigned to be welcoming and stylish, not the greasy looking foyer with the plastic chairs and tinny music it had been previously. On a whim, Eleonora stuck her head into one of the massage rooms. Three workers were busily painting the walls a calming cream color while the room had been enlarged and filled with soft natural light coming from deco-modern overhanging fixtures. The men gave her a polite smile as she stepped out, confident that these rooms would be used for the purpose advertised and not for the shit that had gone on before. For the first time in a week she had her hopes up.She had made an appointment on the hour and didn’t think that arriving a few minutes early would hurt. She took a moment to straighten out her jacket and smooth her hair back over her shoulders before giving the office door, her office door, a light but confident knock. Bid to enter, she opened the door with a quiet and hopeful little prayer… only to be greeted by the sight of Pamela sitting on Franco’s lap, their lips pressed together in the heat of passion. Pamela’s legs were spread across Franco’s hips, hers was no coquettish scene of casually sitting across his knees sharing a quiet little peck on the cheek. Her fingers dug into his hair as her body pressed along his own, her tongue playing between his lips. Her skirt was hiked up along her thighs and Eleonora could not help from noticing the rolling back and forth movements of her hips as she rode Franco’s crotch. Franco was no innocent in this game either. His hands gripped like iron along Pamela’s waist, urging her on as she swirled and ground herself along his hardness. Eleonora practically collapsed onto the floor when she heard their lustful moans, their mouths sealed in the most intimate of kisses. Pamela suddenly pushed away from him, her hands gripping the shoulders of his jacket like eagle’s claws. The woman was breathing heavily, her eyes pressed closed, shivering as she fought to get her racing heart under control. Franco looked up into her face with hunger, with need, gritting his teeth as he struggled against himself. One hot moment away from slamming her onto the desk and fucking her goddamned brains out, turning her at once into the moaning slut that now commanded his lusts. It was clearly a struggle, but Pamela managed to disengage herself from his grasp and rise to her feet. Though her knees still trembled under her. Gripping the back of Franco’s leather chair for support she opened her eyes and finally acknowledged Eleonora’s presence in the doorway. The fact that Eleonora was stunned by what she had seen did occur to the other woman as she casually flattened the front of her bunched-up skirt acting if this was all normal for their afternoon. When she was finally satisfied with her work, Pamela looked up at her once-best friend. The look in her eyes shocked Eleonora to the bones. Where once she had found warmth and companionship, there was instead the callous sneer of arrogant contempt. Where once stood her gentle friend now stood a woman heartless in her terrible betrayal. Desperately Eleonora tore her eyes away, instead letting the flitting changes in the office run through her shattered mind. Gone were their tiny aluminum desks, their pathetic little half-dead plants, the dirty second-hand PCs, and scratchy ten-Euro radio. The place had been turned into a regular office with one large desk and new… well, everything. From the fresh coat of coral-pink paint to the Nespresso machine that sat proudly on a small corner table smelling sweetly of fresh grinds.At the center of it all sat Franco. He sat in a new leather office chair, his large hands gripping the armrests lightly as he gazed on her with the most terrifying, uncaring eyes. As if she was some stranger come knocking at his door instead of his own wife of so many years. Eleonora wanted to run, to flee, to hide, to bolt from the doorway and just disappear. As it were, she stood there, bolted to the spot, her hand still gripping the doorknob tight. Then a shock of lightning struck her. She had called ahead. She had made an appointment to be here. Now. At this very moment. They had known. They had waited for her, planning this scene out for her as they waited for her arrival. But why? For heaven’s sake…“Why?”It was Pamela that answered. Her hands slid across Franco’s shoulders as she passed behind him. Gone was the usual heavy, ugly, shapeless sweaters and formless skirts that hid her curves from the world. Gone as well was the sexless scrunchie that bound her long golden hair back along her neck. Now she stood proudly, spine straight, as she leaned her soft breasts into the back of Franco’s head, exposed as they were by the low-cut floral dress that brought out the cold brightness of her blue eyes. She smiled as she spoke, her full red-painted lips forming each word slowly, carefully, allowing each to strike their mark. Each of her words an arrow aimed unerringly towards Eleonora’s pounding heart. “Why?” She began, “Because, my dear Ellie, because we just wanted you to know. Not simply that you have been replaced, but that my dear Franco has found someone new, someone who lives for him and not for her herself alone. You needed to see it for yourself. Know it. And know that there is no room for you in our lives, in this place. That perhaps it is time to start your life anew… perhaps someplace… else…”Eleonora was caught in a mad swirling haze of disbelief. This was not Pamela in front of her. Pamela was so sweet and quiet, caring and… and her closest friend. The woman standing before her now was none of these. She stood stern and cruel, heartless and superior. She gripped Franco’s shoulders in her hands, an unmistakable gesture of her possession. Further proof that she had now taken everything from her. Franco sat calmly as Pamela spoke. As if speaking to his own wife was somehow beneath him, unnecessary. Allowing his… his woman… to speak for him. But although she spoke his words, Pamela was not some quiet milksop like Lisa. These were her own words as well, spoken not to an old friend but to a defeated victim whose life she had just stripped bare and taken for her own. Eleonora was stunned, parroting the woman’s words rather than speaking her own mind.“Someplace else? Where?”  she sputtered, “what do you mean?  Where shall I go? Why…?” “Because the sight of you, the thought of you, makes me sick!” Pamela barked as she strode from behind the desk, confronting Eleonora face to face without anything between the two women but her own rabid disgust. Eleonora found herself stepping back, afraid of a fateful collision with the woman confronting her. The two of them were the same size, the same height, weight, build, even the same hair color… but in this moment Pamela looked so much more. So much more confident and strong, her presence so much more commanding. Eleonora found herself shrinking back under the woman’s deadly glare.“Do you know what you’ve become?  What you’ve done? Can you even begin to conceive of what a selfish fucking bitch you are? Have you thought one fucking moment about anyone but yourself? I’ve watched you for years. Always putting down the women that work here as if cooking the books for a fucking pimp was so much more honorable than the girls that have to yank cocks just to pay their fucking rent? Hell, you could have quit any fucking time! Gotten a real job in a real office instead of coming in every fucking day holier-than-thou just to work for a greasy cunt like Giovanni and run his whores. Like that makes you any better than any of them. Better than me.”Eleonora found herself pressed back into the door frame now, her eyes open wide in fear, her mouth hanging open in shock as she withered under Pamela’s assault.  “I never… I never thought I was better than you…”“You had a husband! Someone to go home to, to support you while you told this shit-hole goodbye, while you found a real place to work. Me? I had nothing. Just like those girls out there. All I had was typing 80 words a minute and a measly high school degree to keep me from being one of them. And you didn’t… hell, you didn’t even appreciate that! Oh, Eleonora. I would have given the world for what you had.”“You took all I had!” Eleonora screamed, tears rolling down her red-blushed face, finally finding her own voice, “You took my fucking life, you dammed bitch!”“Like you wanted it? Like you even appreciated it, you spoiled cunt!”By now the two women were standing nose to nose, both their faces red with anger as they bared their teeth with hard fists clenched at their sides. Hate-filled glares burned between them as their chests heaved with effort, both ready and more than willing to make the first move yet holding back, wanting the other to give them the slightest justification. Lips curled back over exposed teeth as they shot hot curses back and forth, each wanting to push the other over the edge,“He was happy with me!” Eleonora shouted into her face, “We would have made things right if you hadn’t spread your legs for him you back-stabbing whore!”“You should talk, you stupid tramp! You’ve spread your legs for half the cocks in Apulia by now!”, Pamela replied hotly. “At least I’d never fuck a friend’s husband behind her back!”“But you’d fuck anything with a cock on it otherwise, wouldn’t you?”“Treacherous whore!”“Promiscuous slut!”No one knew which one struck first. The women’s furious eyes had locked, both breathing heavily as each tried to find some new and more hurtful remark to cast at the other. Then, as if in response to some silent signal, both leaped together, their hands formed into claws, tearing at each other with all their boiling anger. Pain exploded across their cheeks as hard slaps landed and their bodies came together, sending a rush of heat surging through their bodies. They grabbed each other by the hair, pulling and tearing savagely as they spat and cursed, driving each other to the floor with a painful hiss.Until this moment, Franco had been content to simply watch. To let the women sort things out civilly, just as Pamela had asked him to do. But the brutal cat-fight which had exploded in their small office was hardly civil and he was suddenly concerned that the women would actually kill each other in a screaming orgy of blood and flying blonde hair in front of him. He sprung up from the office chair bounding over the desk scattering paper and loose office supplies across the room. He grabbed both of them by the arm, grunting a bestial curse through his teeth as he lifted hard, pulling them apart like scratching, biting cats. Eleonora went flying into the wall by the door, shattering a glass picture frame of his own beloved Napoli as she steadied herself. Pamela remained gripped in his right hand, leaning on him to stay upright as she frantically adjusted a stray heel that had nearly flown off during their struggle.“Enough! Both of you!” he commanded, hoping that they would both listen before he had at least one murder on his hands. “Eleonora. I‘m going to tell you now to leave. Not only the spa, but I suggest the town. Sooner or later the rumors will come to you. There are too many people that know our story. Too many open mouths. Heaven knows I shall remain quiet about it, but it will not be good for you here. Not for long.”Eleonora pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, not believing what she was hearing as she leaned back into the wall. Her words flowed out amid sobs as her breath abandoned her, “Where do I go? My life… my whole life is here.”“Not anymore.” Franco said quietly. “Not anymore. Your life here will… will hound you. It will destroy you.”By now Eleonora’s voice had been reduced to a soft trickle of words breathed between sobbing tears, “But what… Franco, what will I do… without you…”“The same as you have always done,” Pamela spat out violently as she adjusted herself sitting on the edge of the paper-tossed desk. Finding her purse amid the clutter, she was currently straightening her tossed hair in the view of her tiny cosmetics mirror. She had wanted to finish their fight, to pay Eleonora back for the pain she had so callously caused Franco as well as for reasons of her own,  “You will find some other man to pay your way as you take ten more between your slutty thighs. Maybe you will get lucky and one of them will fuck a baby into your body, as Franco has mine.”What was left of Eleonora’s mind shattered at those words. She looked up at Pamela, seeing again and for the first time the look of complete victory on the woman’s face, half smile and half sneer. She had been beaten, ruined in every way a woman could be. Her home, her husband, her very life, and now even her man’s child was buried deep inside Pamela’s belly. After years of trying, of taking her Franco to bed how many times… and yet Pamela after only so short a time? It couldn’t be! But looking up into those cold blue eyes she knew that it was the truth. Picking herself off the floor, she ran out the doorway pulling her arm from Franco’s grip, her vision clouded with heavy tears. Stumbling down the hallway towards the open doors that led out to the morning streets, she accidentally slammed into the shoulder of a woman busily assigning several construction workers to their tasks. She excused herself, her small voice trembling with all attempts at restraint forgotten. As her eyes adjusted, she found herself looking up into familiar eyes, smiling eyes, laughing eyes… Chiara’s eyes. The woman was dressed neatly for once, not as the whore she always appeared as while working here. This morning she was dressed stylishly, professionally, her curves displayed modestly in her crisp green uniform jacket. Eleonora had not seen her since that nightmarish evening at the club a week past and a sudden terror gripped her heart as that hateful smile loomed over her once again. She stumbled away, fleeing the sound of Chiara’s cruel laugh, blessedly making it out the door and into the bright streets outside. Despite all she had been through that morning, it was that last haughty smile that stuck with her, that last sight of the small plastic tab that was pinned to Chiara’s blazer that truly destroyed her. A simple white tab with a gleaming gold border that read simply: “Spa Tesora, Chiara, manager.”Once they were alone, Franco turned to Pamela, a look of frustration in his eyes. They had planned to use this time to simply speak with Eleonora. To simply tell her that Franco was done with her, that their lives as husband and wife was now over and a new day had begun for them all. Pamela’s kiss, her sudden passion just before Eleonora entered the room had been a surprise to say the least. A pleasant and passionate surprise, but a surprise, nonetheless. As for the rest; the confrontation between the two women, the rather forceful and arrogant tone of Pamela’s voice, and the shameful hair-pulling battle between the two women at the end? Yes, a surprise to say the least. As he stood there, arms crossed at his chest, he looked down on her with a wry smile. Not one to let a mess survive in her presence, Pamela was already down on the floor on her hands and knees gathering up the pens, pencil, and wayward sheets of paper that had flown from the desk during her Franco’s gallant leap to the rescue. Whether ashamed of her part in the morning’s play or simply hiding a self-satisfied grin, Franco could not tell. Although he could take a guess.“Would you mind telling me what just happened?” he chided, “I thought we were planning on discussing all this like adults? Or wasn’t that the plan?”Pamela gathered an armful of papers and heaved herself up, dropping the whole mess onto the desk to sort out. Among the fliers, work schedules, contacts and construction receipts there was also a coupon for butter at the local market that she had no intention of losing. As her hands busied themselves with the work of sorting through it all she noticeably avoided Franco’s gaze. Partially because she was honestly surprised at her own rather crude behavior but also because she knew well that one look at his stern and disapproving face and she would completely crack up in giggling laughter. Instead she decided to answer him in a way that a man might understand, the reasoning of women being far beyond his uncomplicated manly grasp of the world. “I simply had to make a point.” She replied coolly, as if those few short words explained the workings of her mind. “A point? Such as… we aren’t too old to drag each other out to the schoolyard at recess like children?” Pamela smiled, picturing the scene in her mind, the same argument, the same fight but held by the park swings in her pigtails, “Noooo. More like, its over and don’t bother coming back.”“I thought we were all going to sit down like adults and make that sternly clear.” Franco replied, “without resorting to eye gouging and hair pulling. Or did I miss that part of the conversation last night?”Pamela sighed, running her fingertips along his jacket lapels and pressing her body close along his own. The man was several inches taller than her, even in her best heels, and she found it rather arousing having to look up into his stern but confused eyes, “M’amore, if we had had a simple talk with her, hair-pulling or not, she would never have left us. There would still have been that small part of her that would constantly have hope that she could tempt you back. And that was not an option for us. Eleonora had to be shown, and shown hard, that her presence in our lives was not acceptable.”Franco stood statue still and statue somber, letting her words roll over his limited grip on female reasoning, “Shown hard? That’s what you call all that shouting and clawing? More like assault and battery. The police are already watching this place. The last thing we need is a murder before we even open the doors.”“Oh, please! I would have stopped well short of killing her. Although perhaps, a little maiming might have been in order…” she chuckled, although maybe only half-jokingly, “but the point was made by you, not me.”“By me you say. And how did I happen to make any kind of a point with you two clawing at each other like cats?”“Franco, my darling. Maybe you did not notice but, trust me, she did and so did I.” Pamela continued, her fingertips tracing his silk tie down to his hard stomach, losing her eyes as they traveled down his familiar body, mentally licking her lips at what was hidden below the thin cotton of his dress shirt, “When you broke us up at the end, you tossed her away from you, yet you placed your self in front of me, protecting me. Protecting me, not her. Taking my side, telling her to leave. Not me. It makes a point.”Franco tried remembering that moment, losing himself momentarily in the thought, “Hmmm. I did do that I suppose.”“Yes, you did.” She laughed, “And so gallantly. My own hero jumping tall desks in a single bound to save me from the terrible claws of evil witches. A hero that brave deserves a reward, of course.”Franco smiled, Pamela’s amused smile spreading to his lips. He pulled her into his arms gently, his kiss turning her laughter into a soft moan. She shivered as she felt his hands descend along her back, her man, her soon to be husband, the father of her first child. His hands cupped her ass, squeezing gently, a sign of not only his ardor but of his possession. It was what she had craved her entire life, that wonderful feeling of belonging. Of being not only loved and adored but claimed completely, body and soul. A fact that Franco had made very clear to her over the past week. As she had made very clear to him. Franco gripped her ass tight in his hands, pressing her into him as their tongues found each other once more. She could feel his excitement, his masculine desire pressing along her thigh. A desire that she would never deny. Pamela eased her head back, offering her pale neck to his hungry mouth as she gasped, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.“What… oh, my God…” - Fuck his teeth so fucking sharp on her skin - “what would my brave knight like as… as your reward?’Franco pulled away from her, easing his fingertips into her golden hair, petting her softly as he smiled into her waiting eyes. “You know what I want, my sweet little girl. On your knees for your Franco.”And as Pamela, the love and mistress of his life, slid down before him to fulfill his wanton desire, Chiara smiled and quietly closed the office door behind them. It was a new day and a new life for all of them, her own as well. With pride she straightened the name tag on her left breast and went back to work, passing among the sweating laborers. She was no longer Chiara the whore, she was Chiara the spa manager and she was determined to make the spa’s name mean something wonderful. Her beloved ‘Tesora’. -- source link

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