Until You Come Back To Me, Book 5 (5 page)

 
And then it was time for them to cross
over.
 
When Sal’s dick moved inside of
her with that special glide that always hit the spot dead-on, she came and
pulled him over.
 
They came
together.
 
There was no greater feeling
of elation for Sal than when they came together.
 
They were fucking in tandem, in complete
unity, and it was mind blowing sex.
 
His
eyes were rolling back as his body strained out his cum with a wonderment not
just of release, but of love. Love for Gemma Jones-Gabrini.
 

He
looked into her intelligent, sincere, big brown eyes, and she looked into his
intense, earnest, big blue eyes, and it was that connection of love and respect
and support and trust that brightened their eyes with unshed tears.
 
Neither one of them had ever thought that
they could love like this.
 
Neither one
of them would have put money on ever finding their soul mate.
 
But it was true.
 
No bond could mean more than the bond Sal had
for Gemma, and the bond Gemma had for Sal.
 

Sal’s
body arched and strained with release from the horrors of the things he
sometimes had to do, as he poured and poured into his loving wife.
 

An
hour later, after showering with Gemma, Sal was once again in his
bathrobe.
 
But the anguish was gone.
 
Now he was sitting at the window in their
kitchen nook, eating a wonderful dinner prepared by Gemma, and ready to take on
the world again.
 
He looked at
Gemma.
 
She sat there looking simply
sumptuous in one of his white dress shirts.
 
Her hair had fallen across her face into a bang, making her look about
twelve.
 
She ate absently as she read
over what was obviously an important text message on her cell phone.
 
And Sal wondered, for what had to be the
millionth time, what did he ever do to deserve a woman like this.
 
But he didn’t wonder long.
 
He just thanked Jesus for having her in his
life and continued to eat his meal and look out across the spruce trees and
Black-eyed
Susans
that surrounded their beautiful
home.

Then
he looked at Gemma again.
 
She was still
reading her text.
 
“Work related?” he
asked her.

“Yup,”
she said and then sat her phone aside, placed one of her bare legs in the chair
beneath her butt, and turned her attention to Sal.
 
His hair too had pooled around his forehead,
making him look years younger.
 
But she
could still see some of that stress around his eyes.
 
“You’re back early,” she said.

“A
day early,” he responded.
 
“Eat your
food.”

“I am
eating my food.”

“You’re
playing around with your food the way you always do.
 
Eat.
 
I
don’t want no skinny-ass wife.”

Gemma
smiled.
 
She was never skinny, but she
was slender.
 
“Then you should have never
married me.”

Sal
gave her that serious look she knew not to play around with.
 
“Eat,” he said.

She
ate.

After
several bites, she looked at him again.
 
There was always an elephant in the room whenever Sal returned from one
of his business trips in that kind of anguished state, and now was no
exception.
 
But Gemma would be stunned if
Sal told her about it.
 
But that never
stopped her from asking.
 
“How did it
go?”

Sal
could have played coy and asked how did what go, but he never did.
 
“Okay,” he responded.

“Just
okay?
 
You were gone for two weeks, Sal.”

Sal continued
to eat his meal, but did not continue that line of conversation.

It
was a bone of contention in their marriage, something they never saw eye-to-eye
on, and Gemma knew trying to get him to tell her about his dealings and
associations and what exactly went on whenever he went on his business trips
would be an exercise in futility.
 
But
that didn’t mean it didn’t bother her.

Sal
looked at her.
 
He knew it too.
 
“It was a rough trip,” he admitted.
 
“But I’m okay.
 
There’s nothing to worry about.
 
No blowback, nothing.”

Gemma
looked at him.
 
She knew a “rough trip”
meant that he had been in harm’s way, and that reality disturbed her
mightily.
 
But that was the lifestyle he
lived and she knew it when she signed up to be his wife.
 
He wasn’t going to make any apologies for it,
and she wasn’t going to ask him to.
 
“Okay,” she said.

“What
about you?” he asked.
 
“How have things
been going for you?”

“Okay,”
she said and smiled.

“Very
funny,” Sal replied.

“Things
have been going pretty good actually.
 
Guess who paid me a visit?”

Sal
looked at her.
 
“Who?”

“THE
Ted Coggan.”

Sal
waited for more.
 
“Never heard of him,”
he finally said.

“He’s
huge.
 
A world-renowned attorney.”

“Yeah?
 
What did he want with you?”

“He
chose me to work with him as lead counsel on one of his cases.
 
He’ll be sitting second chair, Ted Coggan
will be sitting second to me, if you can believe it.”

Sal
was doubtful at best.
 
“He want you to be
lead counsel over him?
 
And he’s this
world-renowned attorney?”

Gemma
smiled.
 
“That’s right.
 
Why do you say it like that?”

“Because
I love you.
 
Because I’m not bullshitting
you.”

Gemma
considered him.
 
Sometimes Sal could be
so honest that he could be hurtful.
 
“What do you mean?” she asked him.

“I
don’t mean to be harsh, babe, but you haven’t exactly been on a hot streak
lately.
 
According to my count, and I pay
attention to your career, you’ve lost a lot more cases than you’ve won here
lately.”

 
Gemma knew it was true.
 
That was why she never allowed herself to get
too excited about her career.
 
“I know
that.”

“Then
why would he pick you?”

Gemma
exhaled.
 
“Not Because of my win-loss
record, you’re right about that.
 
He
feels I’m a highly respected attorney in this town and can present a positive
image for his client.
 
It’s my ethics he
wants.”

“Sure
it’s not your ass he wants?” Sal asked.

Gemma
laughed.
 
“No, Sal, that man is about
business.
 
Every man isn’t after me the
way you think.”

“That’s
what you think,” Sal responded.

“That’s
what you used to think too,” Gemma reminded him.
 
“When you first saw me you said yourself you
didn’t know if I was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen, or the ugliest.”

“Ah,
come on, Gem, I knew you were the prettiest.
 
I was just a racist asshole back then.”
 
Then he looked at her, at her sizeable cleavage showing along the
opening of his dress shirt she wore, and at her gorgeous face.
 
“You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve
ever seen.”

Gemma
smiled.
 
“Ah, how sweet.
 
You’re no asshole now.”

But
Sal’s look had already changed.
 
Gemma
saw it.
 
“Speaking of ass,” he said,
untying his bathrobe, “bring yours here.”

Gemma
frowned.
 
“Oh, Sal, not again!”

“Yes,
again.
 
Come here!”

Gemma
considered him.
 
“I thought you wanted me
to eat.”

“Eat
this,” Sal said, looking down at his aroused and exposed penis.

Gemma
smiled, and went to Sal.
 
But instead of
him allowing her to give him head, he lifted her shirt, revealing her naked
bottom half, and put her on his lap, with her back to his chest. She laid her
head on his shoulder as he placed his finger into her pussy.
 
He relaxed too.
   

“Still
wet,” he said, “even after showering.”

“You
put in so much,” Gemma said, “some still oozes out.”

“Good.”
 
Then he lifted her slightly onto his penis,
and entered her again.
 

“
Ah
,” she said like a sigh as her head
leaned back even further and he placed his hand on her long, sleek neck.
 
He began to fuck her.

“Isn’t
that better?” he asked into her ear.

“Yes.”

He
fucked her harder.
 
“Even Better?” he
asked.

“Better,”
she said breathlessly as he pumped harder.

“Much
better?” he asked her yet again, his voice hoarse with lust.

“Much,”
she said, her body bouncing to the rhythm of his fuck.
 
“In fact all.”

And
he pounded her.
 
His dick was going to be
swollen and red as fire from this much activity this close together, but he didn’t
care.
 
He wanted her and he wanted her
now.
 
And he had her.
 
And he did her.
 
He put it on her until she was streaming with
cum, and he was pouring into her all over again.

Ted Coggan
handed Gemma the full file across her conference table.
 
They were in her office, meeting to go over
trial strategy.
 
Ted watched her as she
reviewed the info he had on the victim.
 
She wore big reading glasses that only made her look intelligent with
her beauty.
 
And she was beautiful, he
thought, as he looked at her.

“Lester
Llewellyn,” she said.
 
“In a nutshell.”

“Essentially,
yes,” Ted echoed.
 

Gemma
closed the file and leaned back in her chair.
 
“I still don’t understand it,” she said.

“What’s
to understand?” Ted asked.
 
“He was a
lowlife looking for a free ride.
 
Our
client was his meal ticket.”

“So
they were arguing over money,” Gemma said.

“Right.
 
He wanted to gamble hers away and she was
tired of it.
 
When she refused to give
him another dime, he decided to steal it out of her purse anyway.
 
Things got heated, they struggled for control
of the purse, and then he grabbed the registered gun she keeps in her purse and
pointed it at her.”

“It
was her gun?” Gemma asked.

“It
was her gun, yes.
 
And he pointed it at
her.
 
Then he grabbed the money and was
hurrying toward the door.
 
But
Rabina
, being
Rabina
, had a few
tricks up her own sleeve and pulled out another gun, and pointed it at him.”

“Her
gun as well?” Gemma asked.

“Yep.
 
But unregistered.
 
She pointed the gun at Llewellyn and told him
she was going to blow his head off if he didn’t return her money and return it
now.
 
He turned around, as if he was
going to shoot her before he returned a dime, and she shot him instead.”

Gemma
stared at Ted.

“What?”

“But
that can’t be right.
 
She’s lying.”

“She’s
lying?”
 
Ted considered her.
 
“How so?”

“I
read the police report.
 
Only one gun was
found at the scene.”

Good work
, Ted thought inwardly.
 
“That’s right,” he said outwardly.
 
“But she says he didn’t die right away.
 
He, in fact, was able to take the gun he had
in his possession and toss it out the window.”

“And
why would he do that?”

“He
was so vindictive that he would want her to hang for shooting him.
 
That’s how she ascribes his motivation.”

“Or that’s
how she covers up her own motivation,” Gemma said.

“What
do you mean?”

“She
could have said they struggled for the gun and the gun went off, but that
wouldn’t wash either because she’s too small.
 
From what I’ve read in the file, she’s a very small woman.
 
Nobody would believe a big guy like Lester
Llewellyn would have any problem wrestling a gun away from a little lady like
her.
 
But if there was another gun in
play, then yeah, she would have a case.”

“So
you believe she has a case?”

“I
believe her story is far-fetched and implausible.
 
I believe we’re going to have a tough time
convincing a jury.”

Ted
smiled.
 
“You will just have to convince
them because that’s her story and she’s sticking to it.
 
That’s why I hired you.
 
You can convince them.”

Gemma
sat quietly, her arms folded.

“I
didn’t say it was going to be easy,” Ted added.

“When
can I meet with her?”

“I
think it’s time you and she met.
 
I’ll
set something up.
 
But remember she’s
still not sold on anybody other than myself defending her, so don’t bring it
up.
 
Let me handle that.
 
You size her up, tell me later what you
think.”

“Sounds
good.”

“It’ll
be informal.
 
Meet for dinner maybe.
 
Bring your husband along so she doesn’t think
you and I are an item.”

Gemma
frowned.
 
“Why would she think that?”

“Because
you’re beautiful.
 
You do know you’re
beautiful, right?”

Gemma
knew no such thing.
 
“Is our client in
love with you?”

Ted
smiled.
 
“All of my clients are in love
with me, sweetheart.
 
All of them.”

“Humble,
aren’t you?”

“Just
truthful,” Ted responded confidently.
 
Then he added:
 
“Our client?
 
She’s not black.”

Gemma
looked at him.
 
Where did that come
from?
 
“And you’re telling me this why?”

“Because
black people don’t ask me to represent them.
 
I’m too successful for them.
 
You
know how we are.
 
We’re like crabs in a
pot when it comes to one of us trying to get out.
 
We cut each other down while whites build
each other up and support each other and they all climb out of that pot.
 
But not black folks.
 
We pull each other right back in.”

Although
he said it with a smile, Gemma could see the bitterness in his eyes.
 
“I don’t know anything about these black
people you’re talking about,” she responded, “but that hasn’t been my
experience.”

Ted
gave her a doubtful look.
 
“Oh, really
now?”

“The
African-Americans that I know do not go around tearing each other down.
 
They build each other up.
 
They have been very supportive.”

“Yeah,
right.
 
I married a white woman because I
wasn’t going to sit back and let some sister tear me down.
 
And don’t look at me like that.
 
You feel the same way about the
brothers.
 
I did my research on you.
 
You didn’t want to get knocked around either,
and I suspect that’s the reason why you married a white man.

“You
suspect wrong,” Gemma made clear.

Ted
was trying her, to see how an out-of-left-field question could throw her, as
the prosecution would try to do time and time again during trial, and he was so
far surprised that she wasn’t defensive at all.
 
She was firm, but she wasn’t defensive.
 
“Then why didn’t you marry a brother?” he asked her.

“I
married my husband because of who he is, how he treated me, and the level of
joy he brought into my life.
 
If he was
orange with yellow polka dots and was the man I know as Sal Gabrini, I still
would have married him.
 
Perhaps you
married your wife because of the color of her skin, but I would never be so
foolish as to marry somebody for that reason.
 
His color has nothing to do with him, since he didn’t pick it, and it
has nothing to do with my decision to marry him.
 
His heart and my heart had everything to do
with it.”

“So
you’re telling me you’ve never even heard of negative black folks trying to
tear people down?”

“I’ve
heard of black, white, Asian, Hispanic, every race known to man trying to tear
people down.
 
It’s not about their skin
color, it’s about the hate in their hearts.
 
Why are you harping on one race as if hateful behavior is specific to
them?”

Ted
didn’t like her, but he respected her.
 
“I just thought we had that in common,” he said.

Gemma
frowned.
 
“You thought we had what in
common?”

Ted
smiled again, but again Gemma could see the vile in his eyes.
 
“I thought we shared a mutual distaste for
the actions of some of our people.”

Gemma
realized how little she liked Ted Coggan, and how his ridiculous attitudes were
doing more to tear people down than any negative naysayer ever could.
 
She signed on to represent their client, and
she was going to keep her word and represent to her best ability, but her
respect for the celebrity attorney in front of her went to nil.
 
“You thought wrong,” she said to him, and
went back to reviewing the file.

But
Ted laughed.
 
He laughed so boisterously
that she had no choice but to look at him.
 
“Something’s funny?” she asked.

“I
was just trying you on for size,” he said.
 
“I was trying to see if I could get you to lose that super-cool style of
yours.
 
You know I don’t think like
that.”

But
Gemma wasn’t buying his
just playing
response.
 
She saw that look in his
eyes.
 
That man meant every word he
said.
 
But she wasn’t about to argue with
him about his own feelings.
 
He had to
live with that.
 
She, instead, got back
down to business and left him to himself.

Reno
Gabrini, the owner of the PaLargio Hotel and Casino on the Vegas Strip, felt
his wife nudge his elbow as he opened her car door.
 
They were in the parking lot of the popular
Hemmingway restaurant after a business meeting with another casino giant.
 
They were thinking about a merger.
 
The meeting had gone better than expected.

But
his wife nudged him again.
 
He looked at
her.
 
She was an African-American beauty,
even as she was pushing forty, and he loved her as completely as he had when
they were first married. “What?” he asked her.

Katrina
“Trina” Gabrini motioned her head toward the restaurant’s exit where Sal Gabrini
had just walked out with a beautiful woman beside him.
 
Trina’s car was parked further back along the
curb, and the Valet was just bringing around Sal’s Porsche.
 
The woman and Sal were in what seemed to be a
very intense conversation, but Reno didn’t see anything unusual about the
scene.
  
Sal was his cousin, but he was a
major businessman too.
  
“So what he’s
with a woman,” Reno said.
 
“Big
deal.
 
Probably a business meeting.”

But
Trina wasn’t buying it.
 
“Yeah, right,
Reno.
 
A business meeting with a beautiful
blonde, the epitome of the type of woman Sal used to go goo-goo eyes over
before he hooked up with Gemma.
 
I’ll bet
Gemma would be curious to know about this quote, unquote ‘business meeting.’”

Reno
looked at his wife and decided to speak with a harsh tone because he knew
her.
 
“You listen to me,” he said to her,
“don’t you dare call Gemma and start shit with Sal.”

“Who
said I was going to call Gemma?”

“Don’t
you bring it up, you hear me, Tree?
 
I
don’t want Sal giving you a hard time over stupid stuff that’s not even our
business because I may have to kill his ass.
 
So if you want Sal alive and me out of jail, you’d better keep your trap
shut.
 
You hear me?”

Trina
rolled her eyes.

“You
hear me, Katrina?”

“Yes,
I hear you!
 
Damn!
 
All I was doing was pointing out what I’m
looking at with my own two eyes.
 
Sal has
always loved the ladies.”

“But
he loves Gem more,” Reno pointed out.

Trina
exhaled and nodded.
 
“True that.
 
He loves him some Gemma.”

“So
give him the benefit of the doubt and stay out of it,” Reno ordered her again.

“Don’t
worry, I’ll stay out of it,” Trina assured him.
 
“Because it is a hurtful thing.”

Reno
frowned.
 
“What’s a hurtful thing?”

“Hearing
rumors about your husband’s infidelity.”
 
Trina said this and looked Reno dead in the eye.
 
There had been more rumors around town about
Reno Gabrini and his ladies than Trina could ever count.
 
Even after all of their years together, there
were still rumors.
 

Reno
looked at his beautiful, African-American darling.
 
He put her through a lot down through the
years, and even though they were rock solid now, the pain was still there.
 
He leaned down and kissed her on the
lips.
 
He was recently crowned, by a
local magazine, as the most powerful man in Vegas, but he knew the truth: he
would be nothing without his beloved Tree.