Gavin
Rome is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. It’s full of rich history, a labyrinth of antiquity and ruins, and full of stories that come alive in the midst of modernization.
If it wasn’t for my basketball career, I can’t imagine ever having the opportunity to be here. I count myself lucky, for both my job and having met Kady.
We grabbed a taxi from the train station after disembarking and were dropped off near Via Condotti and the Spanish Steps. As we take in the sites and the luxury shops that only the wealthy can afford, I take Kady’s hand in mine, leading her through the cobblestone streets. She smiles easily and chats excitedly about all the cool stores and the famous brands that I know nothing about.
We’ve been walking around for over three hours now and my stomach tells me it’s getting time for a mid-afternoon snack break. That’s the beauty of Roman streets. You can always find a café, a trattoria or osterie on every street corner.
We’re in the courtyard near the Spanish Steps when we stop in a little outdoor café where people sip their afternoon refreshments and aperitives.
“Oh my God, I’m in love with the Aperol spritzes. They are so delicious,” Kady rejoices as we walk up to the small counter bar to order. “The bubbly sweetness of the Prosecco makes the bitter flavor of the Aperol actually digestible.”
I order her the orange cocktail, the Italian’s national drink, and an espresso for me. My eyes feel heavy from the lack of sleep last night, the long train ride, the bounty of sex and the miles of walking we’ve done today.
Looking around for a place to sit, I point to a small table out on the front walkway. “Want to go get a table and I’ll wait for our drinks?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Kady arches on her tiptoes and plants a soft kiss on my cheek before turning to walk away. But I have other plans. Reaching for her wrist, I snatch her back into me, capturing her face between my palms.
The kiss isn’t very long, but it’s packed with a passionate punch. Her mouth opens for me my tongue greedily roams every corner. It turns hot and frantic instantly and my dick quickly realizes its mistake in this very public spot. Reluctantly, I pry her away with my hands on her shoulders, steadying her wobbly stance.
She looks a little dazed and that makes me happy. “Damn, boy. What was that for?”
I pull her in once more and kiss the top of her head. “I like kissing you. And I like having my hands and mouth all over you as much as possible. Reminds me what comes later.”
She giggles naughtily, glancing around before speaking in a hushed whisper. “Hopefully, I’ll be coming later.”
Kady wiggles her eyebrows and I release her from my hold, but not before I swat her ass as she turns to claim our spot out front. Her head whips back around with a hand covering her mouth and a playfully-offended expression.
I watch her busy herself at the table, my eyes never leaving her, as she wipes it off with a napkin before sitting down. She shields her eyes from the bright afternoon sun with a pair of black round sunglasses. Her hair shines in the bright light, touches of gold sparkling against the shock of blue that traces through the side braid she wears. She looks stunning.
Her fashion statement is bold, brassy and confident, although there are moments when I sense a hesitancy within her. As if she’s putting on a tough exterior outwardly to the world to hide something else simmering below the surface.
I guess I understand that. I’ve done it all my life. Tried to hide my disability, overcompensating in other ways so that the attention was drawn away from the truth. The only ones to know that I had a learning disability were my teachers, my guidance counselor, my mother and brother.
Otherwise, my secret was kept locked away and I found ways to skirt around it, using humor to throw off unsuspecting people. In school, kids laughed at me when I read aloud, but I found a way to clown around so their laughter shifted to my behavior rather than my inability to read.
I pat the front pocket of my shorts, Kady’s discarded panties distracting me from my other thoughts. I grin at the memory of the train ride and I picture the image of us together in the mirror. I’m so lost in thought that I don’t realize someone has stepped beside me at the bar.
The sound of the velvety smooth voice jars me back to the present when I recognize it. Violetta. The Rome-based model I had a thing with about three months ago. It was the first game we played in Rome and the team stayed around the corner at a hotel she was shooting at. We’d met in the bar and I had no idea who she was or the reputation that preceded her.
Violetta is well-known amongst the players in the league. She seeks out fresh, young men, eager to get it on with a beautiful Italian model. I’ll admit, I fell for it. She had me hook-line and sinker during that long, hot weekend together.
She was my first model, so I was eager to brag about my conquest to the other players, and was happy when she kept in contact with me after I left. But then she became clingy and texted me constantly. Sending me nude photos. And then going bat-shit crazy jealous when I didn’t respond or thought I was fucking other women.
Truth was, I was young and didn’t handle it all that well. By then I’d heard some rumors about her from the other guys, and I stopped responding to her altogether, hoping she’d get the hint. She finally did. But it was only because she found another unsuspecting athlete to focus her attentions on.
The weight of her hand on my chest feels more like a heavy anchor rather than a welcoming greeting. I’m sure she wants to remind me about what she can offer, but little does she know, I’m not open to accepting new offers.
My eyes automatically locate Kady, who’s talking animatedly with an older gentleman at the table next to her. Her hands fly in non-verbal communication.
Violetta’s hand strokes my pecs and I shudder. I grab her wrist and forcefully remove it from my body.
She literally purrs. “Buon giorno, Gavin. It is good to see you again, handsome. You are looking, and feeling, exceptionally well.”
Her claw-like fingernail scrapes down my arm where she tries to grab my hand in hers, but I pull it away. I have no intention of letting her touch me.
I shift my body so my stomach pushes into the counter, shutting off any opportunity for any further physical contact with her.
“Hello, Vi.”
I leave it at that, not wanting to encourage her by commenting on her appearance.
I can see her expression out of my peripheral vision as I stare straight ahead. She pouts like an over-indulgent child.
“I’ve missed you so very much, mi amore. Qual’e il problema? Sono sola.”
Her voice is syrupy and thick as she drawls out the words against my ear. I know exactly what she’s said, but I pretend ignorance. She wants me to engage in conversation, telling me that she’s been lonely without me.
She must think I’m a stupid American man, because that’s the last thing that Violetta ever is. Lonely. There is no shortage of male admirers in her daily regimen. She goes through more men than she does make-up.
“Vi, I’m sure you are doing just fine. And in fact, I’m here with someone.”
I turn my head in the direction of Kady, whose head is tipped back to face the sun that cascades down in golden hues across her beautiful face. She looks completely at peace, carefree and happy.
I want to make her happy all the time.
I’m not sure where the thought comes from, but somewhere in my subconscious it must be the truth.
Violetta shifts her svelte body to confirm what I’ve said.
Tilting her head to the side, she tsks as if she’s perturbed by what she sees.
“Ha la ragazza?”
I squint in confusion, not a clue what she just asked or the English translation of it.
“You have a girlfriend now?” she repeats, this time in English.
Well, not officially, but Violetta doesn’t need to know that.
I’m not sure what Kady and I are together. It’s more than a hookup – more than what Vi and I had together. With Kady, the only thing I know for certain is that our time will be short-lived and has a set expiration date.
Nodding my head in affirmation, the corners of my mouth curve into a smile when I see Kady looking back at me, shielding her eyes from the glare. Her face is shadowed by the sun, but I can see the question etched in her brow.
Dropping my Euro’s on the bar, I grab the drinks we ordered in both hands and am about to retreat, when Violetta slings her long fingers around my bicep to hold me back.
“Such a shame. We could’ve been good together, gattino.”
I cringe when she uses the stupid nickname of pussy cat that she bestowed upon me. I hated it then and I’m disgusted by it now.
“Sorry, Vi. It was never like that for me. But good seeing you. Ciao.”
Although my back is to her, I can still hear her gasp of horror, as if I’d slapped her across the face with my snub. I smile as I set the drinks down on the small patio table in front of Kady.
I have a burning need to drive the point home even further, to make sure Vi has absolutely no misunderstanding about where I left things, so I reach behind Kady’s head, securing my hand at her nape and pull her toward me. My mouth covers hers before she can get a single word out and I kiss her soundly, without reservation or hesitation.
Although caught off guard, she does little to resist, instead her lips turn soft and pliable. Eager to let me plunder and explore all the corners of her mouth, the softness of her tongue, the glide of her teeth against my own tongue.
We pull apart and she laughs.
“Was that to prove some point to Miss Italy over there?”
Kady nods in Vi’s direction, clearly aware of the conversation that had taken place.
I raise my brows. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
Sipping my espresso with feigned innocence, I see Kady trying to read my thoughts.
Kady’s eyes blaze with curiosity as she takes a drink of her spritz. “She was trying to pick you up, wasn’t she?”
I answer honestly. “Maybe. But I told her I was here with my girlfriend and that I wasn’t interested.”
Based on the gape of her open mouth, bright blue eyes wide in surprise, I think I may have said the wrong thing.
She stammers. “Did you just use the “G” word, Gavin?”
My laugh bursts out of my chest, a feeling of exhilaration and pleasure zinging through my veins.
I try to remain nonchalant and shrug. “Don’t get your panties in a twist and get over yourself. I used whatever means necessary to throw her off my trail.”
She slugs a small fist into my bicep, causing me to grab my arm as I lunge away from her. Tough little wildcat.
“Whoa there, Kitty…it’s nothing to get violent over,” I muse.
“May I remind you, it’s a little difficult to get my panties in a twist when I’m not wearing any, isn’t it?”
I begin to choke and cough, the hot liquid I just swallowed heading down the wrong pipe. I grab a napkin from the canister on the table and dab at the mess I made.
Kady smirks at me as she finishes her Aperol spritz, taking the slice of orange out of the glass, and sucking it between her lips seductively. Great, now all I can think about is the taste of orange and peach on her tongue and skin.
“Why do you call me Kitty?” she asks, licking the orange stickiness off her mouth, her tongue sweeping around her wet lips.
“Fuck, you know you’re killing me,” I say, trying to adjust my thickening cock in my pants covertly under the table. “I don’t know, it just popped in my head after we kissed. After I watched you licking at the ice cream cone. The words sound similar. Kady and Kitty. And you’re quite the wildcat in my book. You’re sexy. Kittenish. A little feral.”
This earns me a sensual grin. “I like that. Keep going.”
I laugh. “I may not have known you long, but I do know you’re very independent. You’re self-assured. You’re not clingy and needy like some women I know. I guess you remind me of a cat in that way.”
Leaning in, I press my lips into her neck, tasting her skin there. “Plus, your pussy tastes so good.”
Apparently, my whisper wasn’t as quiet as I thought it was, because I hear the old man next to us clear his throat and we both break out in laughter.
God, this girl is so easy to be with. I want to enjoy every single minute I have with her. Give her everything I can while we’re together, so when she leaves, she can take a piece of me with her.
Already knowing it may be a piece of my heart.