Surviving Broken(9)
The Hollywood spotlight seemed to shine brightly on her occasional blip of bad judgment, or worse yet, they fabricated their own humiliating stories. Normally making a bad decision wouldn’t be that big of a deal in the spectrum of life. However, when the paparazzi splashed it on the cover of a rag magazine, it was an entirely different story.
She called her agent Dan, hoping he could drum up some work in Europe. Ironically, he would be traveling to Italy in two weeks and happily agreed to put aside an afternoon for her.
When she mentioned it to Luca, he didn’t say much. He barely spoke to her the whole evening, only telling her gruffly, “I don’t want you running off to have lunch with some guy.”
“He’s married with two kids.” JC attempting to smooth over his insecurities, “Come with me. I’ll introduce you.”
The invitation calmed his suspicions, but not for long. Luca’s confidence and self-assurance began showing cracks in its armor. Every time her phone rang, he wanted to know; who was calling her? What do they want? How do you know them? He questioned her numerous times about her relationship with Dan.
“He’s just my agent.” JC explained, adding, “I told you, he’s married.”
His eyes narrowed, raking a cool stare from her eyes to her chest and back again. “I don’t care if he’s your agent or if he’s married! Did you fuck him?” His condescending voice rose to the point of shouting.
A shiver of rebelliousness rippled down her spine. JC grimaced at his harshness, snapping through clenched teeth, “No! I didn’t fuck him. Why would you think that?”
Luca thrust his face inches from hers. His eyes turned tar black glaring at her in disgust. “You’ve fucked a lot of guys. I just figured you screwed him to get a job.”
JC cocked her head defiantly, leaning even closer into his face. “I fuck men for fun. I prefer to get jobs the old fashion way, by merit.” Anger stung the corner of her eyes. “Screw you Luca.”
She turned to leave, but he grabbed her roughly, holding her against the wall by the door. “I’m sorry. Don’t go. Please.”
“Let go of me. That is not who I am Luca. You should know that by now.” JC squirmed, twisting her face from side-to-side to hide her tears.
Catching a glimpse of the door knob sent a sick feeling whirling in her stomach and spreading to her chest. The shiny gold handle flashed like a warning beacon, begging for her to walk out the door. It was right there in her reach, but she felt disconnected from her body, unable to react.
“I’m sorry. Don’t cry, JC. I won’t say it again. I promise.”
Luca’s fingers enclosed around the back of her neck. His mouth bore down on hers capturing her mouth. Fury rose to the surface, prickling her skin, raising every fine hair on her body. She struggled at first, panting to find her breath. Her stance softened as he caressed her back and shoulders, luring her to stay with silky kisses and sweet endearments made in his native tongue.
His way of apologizing was taking her to bed. Luca was a decent lover, but JC was beginning to wonder if she was a good lover. She’d slept with her fair share of men, but the “Big O”, was always somewhat elusive. JC took a more, hands on approach when it came to reaching her climax. Most men didn’t seem to mind, a few actually found it quite erotic. Especially if she knew it was turning them on, she worked it to her full advantage.
Luca did not take pleasure in the fact that she required a little self-stimulation during sex. Though they never spoke openly about it, JC knew it bothered him. He would remove her fingers from her favorite spot, raising her hand above her head or clasping her hands in his. Not allowing her the happy ending she yearned for. Frustrated with her lack of success and Luca, she began taking care of herself during the day when he was gone. This led to an entirely new chapter in her book titled, What the hell is wrong with me? I have a gorgeous boyfriend and I’m masturbating while he’s at work.
As she laid awake in bed one night, staring at the ceiling Dr. Philling herself, she concluded that her inadequate orgasms were completely her fault. JC needed professional help, so she called her sister the next day and invited herself and Luca to dinner.
After a delicious dinner and three glasses of wine, JC nonchalantly drug her sister outside to go for a walk. Strolling between rows of flawless grapevines, JC confided, “Tracy I need help, but you have to pinky-swear to complete secrecy.”
Without breaking stride or even glancing at one another, each raised their hand and wrapped their pinky around the others, just as they had done a thousand times before.