Deep(2)
The unfamiliar man flailing on his mat drew Nick’s attention. What an oaf. Probably a new resident; there had been a couple of units on the market recently. Nick read him as there for no reason other than the hookup potential. Considering that he looked like a circus clown parody of yoga, Nick knew that potential was significantly less than the guy probably thought.
His attention finally moved to the leader, and her, Nick placed clearly. She lived across the hall from him, and her name was…Evelyn? Kimberly? Something old-fashioned like that. He only knew that much because she had insisted on introducing herself when she moved in a while back. A year ago, maybe. When they passed in the hall, she smiled brightly, and chirped, “Hi, Nick!” every time, needing, and getting, no encouragement from him.
She had a beautiful smile, though, one of those brilliant, toothpaste-commercial smiles that made her whole face glow and always seemed sincere. He’d grown to enjoy meeting her in the hallway, but they still hadn’t said more than ten distinct words to each other.
Before today, he wouldn’t have been able to describe anything more than her face, but now, with the beach between them, he took her in more completely. Her top was dark pink and low cut; he could see her cleavage clearly, despite the distance. She was heavier than he’d expected—no, heavy was the wrong word. Curvy, maybe that was right. She had hips and tits.
She said something to her group and then turned to face the water. Nick tended to like his women willowy, but something about what’s-her-old-fashioned-name’s ass in her snug black pants caught his interest enough that his cock stirred. Maybe it was the way she was stretched on her yellow mat, with her legs straight out at both sides. The woman was limber, definitely.
The door behind him slid open. “Baby, what are you doing out here?” His comare, Vanessa Morgan, stepped out, wearing his shirt from last night. Nick stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the small round table at his side. He didn’t smoke inside his home or his SUV, and he rarely smoked around people.
“Nessa. Don’t call me ‘baby.’” Nick grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled her to him. She came easily and wrapped her long arms around his bare waist. Vanessa was willowy. Tall, blonde, and so slender his hands could meet around her waist, she was a model trying to break beyond the New England market and into the New York big time.
Nick didn’t tap random pussy like most of his guys did. He liked to have a woman. He thought of himself as a serial monogamist, even before he’d been named capo. Since then, though, it was minimum expectation; his uncle believed that members of the administration should be role models for the men who worked for them, and he believed that family stability was a role they should model. That Nick was forty-five and unmarried was cause enough for consternation; he’d damn well better at least have a regular woman on his arm.
The woman he was putting on his arm these days, and for the past few months, leaned her head on his chest. “Coffee’s ready. Do you want me to make you breakfast?”
Nick slid his hand over the soft silk of her long, gold hair. “No. I’ve got an early meeting. I’ll grab a slug of coffee on my way to the shower. You should get going.”
She kissed his nipple, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation, but irritated that she was trying to distract him. “Can I shower with you?”
He set her away, gentle but firm. “Not today, Ness. I need some time to myself this morning.”
She pouted just long enough to strum his nerves, but then she nodded. “Okay. I’ll get moving. I have a call at ten, anyway.”
“I’ll call you later.” He caught her before she turned away, one hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her close again for a kiss. When her arms snaked up over his shoulders, he set her away again. “Have a good day.”
Though she was clearly unhappy with him, she muttered, “You, too,” and went back inside.
Nick stayed on the balcony until he heard the front door open and close. The time might be approaching to end things with Vanessa. He had no interest in more than this with her, or with any woman, and he could smell the need for more coming on her.
~oOo~
On the books and in reality, since his father’s death two months earlier, Nick was Chief Operating Officer at Pagano Brothers Shipping. About thirty hours of each week he spent doing that legitimate work. Off the books, and for most of the rest of his waking hours, his work was different but also the same. Replacing his father as underboss and Uncle Ben’s right hand, he oversaw the daily operations of the shipping company and every other Pagano Brothers interest.