Mick Sinatra 3: His Lady, His Children, and Sal (17 page)

By Friday evening,
there was still no word about Adrian.
 
But Roz was working the crowd.
 
There was no other way Mick could describe it.
 
She was moving from table to table, laughing
at some, listening to others, and being the charming, well put together woman
he had married.
 

He stood naked at the window inside their bedroom, a
window covered in privacy window film where he could look out, but others could
not look in, and watched her work.
 
She
was dressed beautifully, in a pair of tight leather pants, a leather waist-high
jacket, and what he could only describe as go-go boots.
 
Her hair dropped down along her back in waves
of big, thick curls, and her face, from her high cheek bones to her big, lovely
eyes, glowed.
 
She was a fashion plate if
ever there was one, and outshined every woman out there if he had to say so
himself.
 
And there were some beautiful
women out there, Mick thought as he watched those women too.
 
That was the one thing, he thought, that the
Sinatras and the Gabrinis got right.

But as Roz worked her way out of his sight, and Mick
continued to stare out into his own backyard, he felt as if he was in a strange
place.
  
For the first time in his life,
he actually felt like a family man.
 
And
that was a remarkable way to feel because, less than two years ago, before he
met Roz and she encouraged him to do better by his children, such a thought
would have been unthinkable.
 
Businessman, yes.
 
He had that
lane down pat.
 
But thug, gangster,
hoodlum, mob boss, those were in his lane too.
 
Yet family man would have been laughable even to him.
 
He was no family man.
 
But now he was able to accept that
title.
 
He was growing into it.
 
And he was equal parts thrilled and terrified
by the prospect.

“Still not ready?”

Mick didn’t bother to turn around.
 
He would know his wife’s voice among a
million voices.

“Or is the better question,” she added, “
will
you ever be ready?”

Mick smiled.
 
“That sounds about right.”

Roz remained at the door of their bedroom for a
moment longer, as her eyes roamed down the length of his beautiful body; as the
tingling inside of her vagina made it clear that even his ass turned her
on.
 
Then she pushed away from the
doorjamb and made her way up to the window.
 
She stood by him and looked out of the window too.
 
And then she looked at him.
 
His big, muscular arms were folded, with one
hand cupping his own chin.
 
Which meant,
she knew, that Mick was in deep thought.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Mick shook his head.
 
“Nothing’s wrong.”

Roz knew him too well.
  
“But something’s not right?” she asked.

“I’m just looking at all of the people.
 
Our family.
 
And I don’t know how to . . . I don’t deserve this, Rosalind.”

Roz began to rub his back.

“Not a man like me,” he continued.
 
“I live by a motto most people would find
reprehensible.
 
Kill or be killed.
 
What family man lives like that?
 

“You do what you have to do to protect me and your
children, Mick,” Roz said.
 
“That motto
you live by keeps us alive.
 
It keeps you
alive.
 
That’s just the way it is.
 
And if the world can’t handle that?
 
Fuck’em.”

Mick smiled, and then laughed.
 
“Watch your tongue, young lady,” he
said.
 
“You’re my wife.”

Roz smiled too.
 
“You know what I mean.”

Mick considered her.
 
He loved her loyalty and devotion.
 
He loved her.
 
He pulled her into
his arms.
 
“I know what you mean,” he
said.

And for a long time they stood there holding each
other, thinking, being there for each other.
 
Roz especially was worried about Mick.
 
And it wasn’t just about the fact that his day was already overloaded
with so many things to do that he had only just arrived home to change for a
party he himself had thrown.
 
But it was
more about the fact that his life was overloaded, and overloaded, not with bad
decisions or even regretful decisions, but unfortunate decisions she wished
he’d never had to make.
 
But he had the
strength to make the right call time and time again.
 
He jokingly called it his dog’s life.
 
Roz called it his mission.
 
Somebody had to make the tough calls.
 
And it had to be somebody strong enough to
live with the blowback.
 
Mick, for good
and bad, always seemed to be that man.

Mick pulled back slightly from their embrace, and
looked at Roz.
 
He placed his hand
beneath her chin and stared into her chocolate-brown eyes.
 
“Marrying you,” he said, “was the best thing
that ever happened to me.”

“Marrying you,” Roz said, “was the best thing that
ever happened to me.”

Mick looked from one of her eyes to the other eye as
if he sought reason to craziness.
 
“How
could that be possible, Rosalind?” he asked her.
 
“My lifestyle is dangerous, often illegal,
and all manner of bad.
 
Knowing my
lifestyle, how can you say such a thing?”

Roz placed her hand on the side of his face.
 
“Because I didn’t fall in love with your
lifestyle,” she said.
 
“I fell in love
with you.
 
You lifestyle came with the
package, but it wasn’t the package.
 
You
were the prize.”

Mick smiled a smile that not only showed his age,
but the emotional toll that lifestyle had taken on him.
 
But for Roz it was his best look.
 
It showed vulnerability and strength, all
rolled up in one.
 
She pushed up on
tiptoes, and kissed him.

Mick lifted her up into his arms, and returned the
kiss.
 
But he returned it with more
energy, with more pinned-up passion than she thought he had the strength to
manage.
 
But Mick was strong, and he was
showing it as he kissed her.
         

When they had finished kissing, and he sat her back
down on her feet, they both knew they weren’t about to stop there.
 
Mick was a big man with a big appetite in
every way, especially in the bedroom, and Roz was just the kind of woman to
keep him fed and overfed if needed.
 
Today, she felt, was one of those needful days.

Mick felt it too.
 
That was why, when she pushed him down on the window seat, with his back
to the world outside, and she knelt down before him, his admiration for her
increased exponentially.
 
Unlike any
woman he’d ever so much as touched, Roz knew how to treat him.
 
She knew how to give him exactly what he
needed, and exactly when he needed it.

He needed it right now.
 
Roz could tell by his penis alone.
 
It had become so aroused, so juicy and thick,
that it was already stiffening.
 
And she
gladly put her mouth to work, and gave into his need.
 
The taste of salt and pre-cum, the smell of
his manliness, draped her in sensuality as she sucked him.

Mick stretched out his arms on either side of the
wall that enclosed the window seat, and pressed his hands against it.
 
His back was to their guests outside, and but
for the privacy window film they would have been a voyeur’s delight, but right
now Roz was his delight.
 
And she was
putting it on him.
 
She was giving him
the kind of head no other woman had a clue how to give to him.
 
From his sensitive underside, to his balls,
Roz gave his body a sexy treat.

And he closed his eyes and enjoyed it.
 
He could hear the music outside.
 
He could hear the laughter and joy.
 
But he wouldn’t exchange anything for being
with Roz.
 
She was where he wanted to
be.
 
And this gift of hers; this ability
to sex him in ways that still fascinated an unbelievably experienced man like
him, overwhelmed him.
 
He leaned his head
back and did what he always fought against: he came.
 
When he realized he had cum so fast and was
cumming in her mouth, for her sake he tried to pull out so that the rest could
trail down his thighs.
 
But Roz kept him
in, and would not allow him any passage out.
 
She swallowed and giving him her all.
 
Mick could not believe the love he felt for her when she did that for
him.

When it was over, he knew it was just
beginning.
 
She thought it was over.
 
She even went to the bathroom, cleaned her
mouth and gargled, and brought a damp cloth to clean his cock.
 
But as soon as she finished cleaning him up,
he removed the cloth from her hand, tossed it aside, and pulled her to
him.
 
She was still on her knees from
cleaning him, and as he lifted her to her feet, he removed her leather jacket
and began unbuttoning every button on her blouse.

“Do we have time?” she asked, although she was
inwardly hoping that they did.

“Always time for you,” Mick replied in a voice still
husky from his own climax.

   
And when
he pulled her between his bare legs, and opened her blouse wide, revealing her
high, unblemished and natural bare breasts,
his
mouth
watered.
 
Hers did too, as he began
sucking her.

Roz looked above his head at the life and energy and
the people in their backyard.
 
Family.
 
And all of these
strangers, these Sinatras and Gabrinis, were her people now.
 
Her family.
 
Good, strong men.
 
Smart, devoted
women.
 
Her kind of people.
 
But more importantly, she and Mick’s network
of support.
 
They were no longer two
people against the world.
 
They had help
now.

Roz closed her eyes, as Mick clasped her breasts in
his hands and massaged as he sucked her.
 
It was that combination, the rub and the
suck, that
turned her on the most.
 
And she was
completely turned on.
 
She arched her
back, placed her hands around his neck, and reveled in the joy of his
lovemaking.

She didn’t realize he was pulling down her pants and
panties until they were beneath her ass.
 
Then she shimmied to make his pull down easier.
 
But pulling her tight-ass leather pants off
of big, go-go boots was not going to happen.
 
He sat her bare ass down on his bare dick, with her back against his
stomach, and began removing her boots.
 
They had guests.
 
They had people
to entertain.
 
But Mick was taking his
time getting her out of her clothes.
 
His
world was a fast-paced world, just as fast-paced as the excitement in their
backyard right now.
 
But what Roz loved
about Mick was how he slowed down, how he took his time, when he was with her.

When he had her completely naked, as he was, he kept
her where she sat: on his lap wrapped into his loving arms.
 
He lifted her slightly, so that his relaxed
penis could rest against the outside of her vagina, and for a long time all he
did was hold her, and rest the side of his face against the side of her face,
and take in her wonderful perfumed scent.
 
His big arms were tight beneath her breasts, as they were wrapped across
her stomach, and they both closed their eyes and savored the moment.
 
Their room was warm and inviting, with the
fire burning brightly in their bedroom fireplace, and although they were at
rest, they felt as if they were flying.
 
They felt more alive and high than any bird in the sky.
 
They were together.
 
They had crossed over from being two, to
being one.

Soon, Mick lifted Roz’s legs until her bare feet
were resting on his thighs, and with full access, took his hand and began
massaging her inner thighs, and then her vagina.
 
First rubbing her outer folds, and then her
inner clit.
 
And then, when he eased a
finger inside of her, and she began to lean back against him, even his satiated
cock came back to life too.
 
And as he
made her wet, as he massaged deep inside of her and rubbed around her wetness,
his cock began to spring up as if it was paying full attention too.
 
It was no longer a question of if they were
going to fuck, but when.