Chapter 9

MARCO'S DISTRACTED MIND WAS brought to attention by the ringing of the front door bell. He walked down the wide marble-floored entrance hall, his heels making echoing clicks. He sipped coffee from a china cup as he walked. Who was calling so early?

Opening the front door he greeted the Carabinieri officer standing stiff and formal.

"Signore Lucchese, scusatemi per chiamare così presto, ma..."

Twenty minutes later Marco fumed, anger boiling up like liquid lava, acidic and painful. Aldo was dead! Aldo! So that's why he wasn't answering his cell. That's where he'd gone. Nice!

Marco snarled aloud. Aldo had been pulled from the Mediterranean outside Nice. The preliminary cause of death was strangulation, his lungs empty of saltwater. Marco slammed a fist down on the study desk. Fuck! That fucking Julian Blackmore! It had to be him! Anger and hatred shaded his thinking. Only one thing resonated through his brain; KILL HIM!

Grabbing the phone, he dialled from memory. His plan was clear, crystal clear. He'd rent a fast boat and run it from Italy to Nice. That way he could take some guns and Guido with him. He'd find Julian Blackmore and slaughter him, a full frontal assault, no hesitation. He could arrive from the sea and slip away afterwards leaving no trace of his visit. He could even take care of his niece, too. Yes. That was the answer. If he wanted it done right, he'd have to do it himself.

"Guido," he barked into the phone, "me trovare una barca. A very fast boat," he added in English. "We're taking a trip."

Automatically his mind turned to guns. He'd need to acquire some. He never kept any in the house. He'd need overwhelming firepower. A Lupo and a machine pistol with spare magazines should do.

Flipping a small leather phone book open, he found a telephone number and dialled, his mind reviewing his needs. He'd get the same arms for Guido.

His call was answered. His voice became smooth. "Alberto..."

Dark clouds scudded across the dull morning sky. The leading edge of the storm that had been forecast was now arriving. I stood staring up at the sky, hands leaning on the balcony wall. There was no question we were in for a violent storm. Below me waves rolled in to slap against the rock, the Riva rolling and banging against the rubber pier bumpers. Out in the Mediterranean white caps had formed.

We needed to shop for supplies so we could ride out the storm in cosy comfort. Bianca was excited. I wasn't. Darkness dampened my mood matching the dark grey sky above. Waking up with Bianca hadn't led to sex or frisky foreplay. I'd suffered from unexpected emotions, tenderness and affection. Both were strange feelings, not uncomfortable but unusual, new.

"Julian, I'm ready. Let's go," Bianca announced behind me.

I checked my watch. It had taken her thirty-five minutes to get ready. She smiled at me brightly when I turned away from the Mediterranean. Letting her lead the way to the garage, I studied her carefully. She was wearing the same short blue and yellow skirt she'd been wearing earlier. Her short-sleeved top, a matching yellow with lace trim around the neck looked the same, too.

The car doors thunked closed. Bianca buckled her seatbelt as I pressed the start button, a brief bellow from mufflers echoing loudly in the enclosed garage. Pressing a remote, the garage door responded and started to roll up.

Despite knowing better, I had to ask. "Bianca, what took you thirty-five minutes to get ready? You're wearing the same clothes."

"You don't like it?" she asked.

"Like what?" I thoughtlessly asked, immediately wishing I could take it back.

She actually pouted and went silent, arms crossed.

"Bianca?"

Nothing. Shit! Out of the corner of my eye I studied her while driving. No make-up, no jewellery. Maybe it was the shoes. "Nice shoes," I said.

"Idiota," she muttered, turning away from me.

Shit!

The conundrum persisted through grocery shopping, Bianca picking up items and tossing them into the cart without asking what I thought as she usually would. It distracted me from my doom and gloom, too. It forced me to study her very, very carefully.

Her face, even with the pout, was beautiful. Her skin was creamy and flawless. No earrings or studs. Her neck was slender. No necklace. The yellow top was loose but showig the petite mounds her breasts made underneath. Short sleeves exposed very slender arms. No wrist bracelets or rings. The top was tucked into that short, short skirt that flirted with the possibility of a flash of panties if only the wind would cooperate. Her legs were long and slender ending in yellow ankle socks and blue canvas shoes.

Nothing. The mysteries of Egypt were easier to interpret.

As I tended to do when stymied, I started again from the top. Wavy blonde hair ... That's it! She'd braided her hair into a complex French twist that started high on her head and hung down to her back leaving loose blonde tendrils to frame her face. That's what took so much time.

"Beautiful hair," I murmured, almost as if I was talking to myself.

Bianca ignored me but I noticed a spring return to her step. When looking away from me a small satisfied smile graced her lips. The items she picked off the shelves were placed in the cart, not tossed or dropped. I breathed a sigh of relief and felt stupid for the stress I'd experienced at her displeasure.

While Bianca refused to talk to me in the supermarket she drifted closer to me, not quite back into my personal space, but a thaw was in the air.

So was wind. The great God Aeolus looked down on me with favour when we left the supermarket, our arms full of grocery bags. The God of wind sent blustery breezes at us, a prelude to the oncoming storm. It swished Bianca's short skirt with teasing movements and, just before we reached the car a gust lifted the back of her skirt high, plastering it to her lower back, revealing matching yellow panties underneath, sexy little things that immediately distracted me.

"Nice skirt," I observed as she wrestled with the bags so she could push the back of her skirt down. Her giggle was charming. The thaw was officially over.

With the weather deteriorating hour-by-hour - distant thunder and lightning promising a harsh storm - we watched television. At one point the satellite signal dissolved into snow. Wind howled outside the window. A clash of thunder shook the house. With a bowl of potato crisps and hot popcorn, cozy inside away from the storm, we switched to DVD movies, a marathon of Indiana Jones. I really enjoyed the first, commenting to Bianca how Raiders of the Lost Ark was the best movie ever. She calmly reminded me I had no memory so of course it was the best ever. It was the only movie I'd seen.

Dinner of boxed macaroni and cheese, the white cheddar one I'd bought when she'd had a cold, was delicious. Bianca utterly disagreed, commenting that it was quite disgusting and perhaps I should take some cooking lessons. We finished Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and started Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Now I'd seen two movies I let Bianca know that Raiders was the best movie I'd ever seen. She giggled.

Wind started rattling the windows, rain pelting the glass. Bianca's hand found mine and started toying with my fingers. She tugged my hand to get my attention.

"Let's go upstairs and cuddle," she said when I finally paid attention to her.

It was eight-fifteen. "You know we don't have to be in the bedroom to, um, cuddle, don't you?"

"We don't?" she asked in surprise. "Davvero? Anywhere at home?"

With a chuckle I explained that sex could happen anywhere as long as it wasn't in public view, at least not if you wanted to avoid being arrested. Bianca thought that was most interesting and proceeded to straddle my lap and distract me from the movie with a sweet kiss and twinkling blue eyes full of excitement.

She made a mistake of murmuring into the kiss when my hand reached under a short skirt to caress a sexy panty-clad bum, and just like that the movie and the storm were magically forgotten.

I developed a theory that there was a correlation between the intensity of Bianca's kiss and my hand on her panties. Her tongue seemed to become rather forceful when the tips of my fingers traced her arousing camel toe from behind, and more relaxed when I went back to fondling delectable, firm buttocks. It fascinated me so I tested my theory, teasing the outline of her cleft, appreciating her lively response, and caressed sweet buttocks, enjoying her soft sigh into my mouth.

The impact of her kiss made my jeans uncomfortably tight. Bianca accidentally discovered it when she rubbed her pussy against my lap. Her breath snorted, the kiss ending. Her forehead dropped to my shoulder and, after another shuddering rub against the bulge of my erection, her hands reached down between us to wrestle with the button on my jeans, her intentions obvious. Things became slightly confusing.

My hands discovered loose elastic at her panty legs and slipped inside to brush against silky pubes and a warm pussy. Removing my hands I went for her waistband and reached inside her panties to grip both buttocks, exploring down to return to sparse, soft pubic hairs, discovering a moist, slippery cleft in the process that made my cock strain.

Bianca almost sighed when she finally managed to wrestle my erection out of my jeans. Suddenly she was writhing and contorting on me, her hands busy under her skirt. "Aiutami!" she ordered.

I helped. Her sexy yellow panties slipped down and off one leg and hung off one bent knee. Bianca was almost manic, reaching down to grab my erection, shuffling up my lap, lifting her skirt and pressing the tip of my crown through her cleft, her labia moist and slippery. I felt them parting sensually against me. With a groan, she found the spot and settled, her pussy pressing down on my rigid cock. She eased off, holding my shaft, and pressed down almost forcefully.

"Gently," I whispered.

Too late. With a deep but quiet moan, Bianca impaled herself on me, her moist pussy slipping down my shaft until the tip nudged to her cervix. My entire erection was gripped tightly. She clenched and, with a sigh of satisfaction, stopped moving.

It was a disorienting experience. My erection felt incredible ensconced inside her velvet vagina. Her forcefulness was a surprise. But she had more surprises in store. When I tried to lift her butt, a desire to take her driving me, she refused.

"No, Julian. Not yet," she whispered heatedly against my shoulder. Then, dissatisfied, she rose up, lifting herself off my erection.

Confused, I waited to see what she was up to. Bianca kissed my mouth lightly, her eyes twinkling but her expression serious. She turned around, her back facing me, straddled my lap again and reached underneath to fish for my erection. I held her slender hips, too intrigued to do anything else. With some sexy wiggling, a little repositioning, and a quiet sigh of satisfaction, Bianca once again impaled herself on my erection, burying me deep, all the way, soft, sexy buttocks pressed to my groin. She clenched. I groaned.

"Molto meglio," she sighed, reaching for my hands. She guided one up over her top to cup her petite breast, the other under her skirt to her naked pussy, and settled, leaning back against me. "This is nice," she commented.

Yes it was - very, very nice.

Bianca might have paid attention to Sean Connery and Harrison Ford on TV but I couldn't. Under one hand was a deliciously firm braless breast. Under the other was an outrageously sexy pussy stretched by my thick cock, her small clitoris exposed. I rubbed it gently. Bianca's pussy contacted. I rubbed her clit again, rewarded by another thrilling contraction, a tight, tight squeeze, my erection throbbing with excitement.

Sex began slowly, exquisitely. It started with Bianca contracting and relaxing her vagina, giving my cock an erotic massage. I caressed her unfettered breast over her T-shirt and gently rubbed her clit. Movement started with Bianca, a slight curl of her hips moving my erection an inch or so. My heart rate ticked up at the feel of my crown being caressed deeply inside her.

Bianca moaned quietly and sat upright. The move pressed my cock firmly against her cervix. I pulsed in appreciation. A contraction of her pussy and Bianca trembled. Her hands found my thighs as she leaned forward, her knees to either side of me. I rubbed her back lovingly and watched her head drop.

The movement was pure eroticism. Bianca started undulating her pussy back and forth, hips turning slightly. The effect was astonishingly arousing, the tip of my erection rubbing against her cervix. She undulated, emitting a whispered, "Sì," hunching back and forth slowly.

I held her narrow hips and let her move. She was lost in her own pleasure, humping back and forth slowly, letting out small sighs almost as murmurs or moans, almost silent. Gradually her undulations picked up pace, moving faster and faster. My erection was massaged by her silken grip, the entire erection from groin to tip ensconced in her heated pussy, the crown rubbing her cervix harder. She humped with growing urgency and, in an intensely erotic display, Bianca climaxed.

It was a stunning display of young bliss. Her hands gripped my thighs hard, her hips churning back and forth. She let a deep groan out, "Dio mio!" and jerked, hips thrust forward. She gasped and jerked again, pussy scrubbing back, hunching forward, and pausing. I felt her body pause and tremble for the briefest moment and suddenly all Hell broke loose. With vocal gasps, Bianca started scrubbing her pussy against my groin, my cock pressed hard against her cervix. She undulated fast and hard crying out softly, fucking my erection, humping me, fucking me until, with a straining last hard shove, she slowed, her body trembling. She melted back against me.

It was erotic, exciting, and way too arousing. Bianca had literally used me to bring herself off and it was so damn sexy. It was too much to take. Reaching round her waist with one arm, her chest with another, I struggled up, my erection still buried inside her. She was a limp doll in my arms. Turning, I put her face down over the edge of the couch, her knees on the floor, my cock still firmly pressing into her.

Bent over the couch, yellow panties still hanging off one knee, I flipped her short skirt up to reveal a stupendously sexy ass, sweet little buttocks pressing to my groin, and just the base of my thick cock showing where I was penetrating her.

Prying her buttocks apart, I studied the sight; her young pussy stretched massively by my erection, labia stretched, sexy soft blonde pubes hiding nothing.

I withdrew partially and inhaled sharply at the sight of her vagina almost inverting as it clung to my glistening shaft. Reversing, I thrust in, her labia folding in, my tip knocking at her cervix. A quick caress of her sweet buttocks and I reached for her waist, held her firmly, and gave into the driving need punishing me. I started fucking Bianca, long strokes, glistening shaft emerging, plunging in, fucking into her, cock disappearing, her pussy tight but moist, slippery, velvety smooth. I fucked Bianca harder, thrusting in, her buttocks jiggling as they hit my groin. I fucked her harder, faster, need arriving, pressure building and, with an exquisite ache deep in my groin, I thrust into her youmg body firmly, paused, and, with exquisite joy, finally came.

Erection swelling, a wave of ecstasy slammed into me as I exploded inside her, my erection lodged to her cervix, semen erupting, bliss, bliss. Pulling back, I thrust into her hard, shoving her small body against the couch, and exploded, a bigger, almost agonizing spurt, hot cum flooding her womb. Desire and need punished me. Holding Bianca's narrow waist, I thrust and spurted, cum exploding, fucked her with short, desperate strokes cumming almost viciously, my gut clenching. I chased my orgasm, fucking her, spurting, fucking, cumming, sweet agony arriving. Dizziness followed as I emptied myself into her. I gasped with relief when my climax passed, slowing, stopping, my erection softening, Bianca's tight pussy flooded. In a slow move I collapsed over her back.

The sound of Indiana Jones riding a tank registered. Bianca moved underneath me.

"I need to go to the bathroom, Julian," she whispered.

Easing my flaccid penis out of her, I sat back on my heels. A gush of thick white semen ran from Bianca's flushed pussy and down her cleft before her hand covered herself. She stood and left the den quickly.

Five minutes later Bianca returned. She'd changed into her too long grey sweats and soft T-shirt, her hair still slightly messy, a rosy glow on her cheeks. Her shy smile was stunning. I knew what she was thinking. We'd just had sex, not made love, but pure sex, raw and selfish.

With a smile, I reached out a hand to her. Her smile of pleasure grew. Bianca danced across to the couch and threw herself down at my side, both her arms hugging my arm.

"That was amazing," I said, bending to kiss her head.

"Uh-huh." she reached for the remote and flipped back to the beginning of the film, snuggling into me.

Marco Lucchese held onto the powerboat as it rode the increasingly large waves. Spray blasted back soaking his face, the oilskin keeping him dry. He glanced across at Guido, a short, heavy-set man with grey-flecked hair, as he wrestled the 45' Pantera through the seas, squinting ahead with concentration. Guido was a good man to have around. He was solid as a rock, capable and as amoral as Marco, and good with a gun.

"How much longer?" Marco yelled over the roar of the engines.

"One more hour. Perhaps an hour and a half. It's getting very rough," Guido yelled in response.

Marco checked his watch. It would get them to Blackmore's house by just after nine o'clock. The sky was already dark from cloud cover. It would be almost pitch black by then. Good. "Andiamo!" he yelled.