Gemma Jones-Gabrini sat quietly in her law office typing in the finishing touches on her amicus brief for an appellate court case where she was not an attorney, nor party in the matter, but an expert voice in the field the case centered on: the violation, by police, of a poor perp’s civil rights. 

  But then she heard a noise out front.  Knowing how late it was, and knowing that nobody else should be in her office but her, she rose quickly to her feet.

 

Out front, Sal entered the law firm and closed and locked the door.  Then he made his way upstairs.

He was surprised to find that the lights had been turned off inside of Gemma’s upstairs office, but was glad to see it, too.  She was alert, and that was good.  And when he walked in, and he felt the barrel of a gun on the back of his head, he was pleased by that, too.

“Lost, asshole?” asked Gemma, who stood behind the door with the gun to the intruder’s head, as her heart pounded with fear.

“No, motherfucker,” Sal replied.  “Are you?”

Gemma, realizing who had spoken those words, quickly turned back on her office lights.  When she saw that it was indeed Sal, she smiled and leaned against the door.  “Geez, boy!” she said.  Then she realized he was back in town early, and forgot all about her fear.  “Sal!” she cried happily, and threw herself into his arms.  “I could have blown your head off!”

“Speaking of heads blown off,” Sal said, pulling back.  “Put that gun away.”

Gemma laughed and headed toward her desk to place the gun back in place.  “I didn’t expect you to be back this soon,” she said.

“Miss me?” Sal asked as he walked slowly toward her desk.  He was staring at his tall, gorgeous wife.

“You know I did,” Gemma replied.  And then her cellphone rang.

She placed the gun back in the bottom drawer, sat down behind her desk, and leaned back as she answered her phone.  “This is Gemma,” she said, as she folded her legs.

“Where are you?”

“Curtis?”  She was surprised.  Sal wasn’t.

“Where are you?” Curtis asked again.

“I’m at the office,” Gemma said.  “Where are you?”

“At a friend’s.”

“So what’s up?” Curtis was a good secretary, but he rarely called her after hours.  Something had to be up.

“Have you spoken to your husband yet?” Curtis asked.

This surprised Gemma.  She looked at Sal.  “My husband?”  Why in the world would Curtis be asking about her husband?

Sal sat down in the chair in front of her desk.

“I was just wondering,” Curtis said, “if you’ve spoken to him yet.”

“About what specifically?” Gemma asked.

There was no way around it, so Curtis just said it.  “About Robby Yale.”

Gemma hesitated, and looked at Sal.  “What about him?” she asked.

“Did he talk to you about me and Robby Yale?” Curtis asked.

Gemma had suspected something was up.  She saw how Robby always looked at Curtis whenever he and Curtis were in the same room.  But the idea that Sal now knew worried her.  Her husband was a goodhearted man.  Nobody was going to tell her any differently.  But he wasn’t exactly liberal in his thinking, or even progressive.  She was reasonably sure that he would have a problem with a second-in-command who also happened to be gay.

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to him, no,” Gemma said.

“He and I are in a relationship, Gemma, I’m proud to say.  But what’s not so cut and dry is the fact that your husband saw us tonight.  Robby is terrified by the implications.”

“I see.”

“What are we going to do?” Curtis asked.  “He may harm Robby.”

“That’s nonsense,” Gemma said snappishly.

“You don’t think he’s going to be upset?”

“I didn’t say that,” Gemma said.  “But that and harm are not the same things.”

“What can we do?” Curtis asked.

One thing Gemma knew for sure was that they couldn’t let this linger without addressing it.  “Tomorrow is Saturday,” she said, “so come by the house in the morning.  Both of you,” she added.  “We’ll talk then.”

At least that sounded like a plan.  “Okay,” Curtis said.  “We’ll see you in the morning.”

And Gemma ended the call.  And looked at Sal.

“What did he want?” Sal asked.

“You know what he wanted,” Gemma replied.

Sal shook his head.

“What do you have to say about it?” she asked.

“I don’t have shit to say about it,” Sal said with an edge to his voice.  Then he looked at Gemma.  “You knew about it?” he asked her.

“No, I didn’t know,” she said.  “But I suspected it might be going on.”

“And didn’t tell me shit about it?” Sal asked.

“What was I supposed to tell you, Sal?  That I think your underboss might be gay?”

“Yes!  Why the fuck not?”

“I wasn’t going to put that man’s business out there like that unless I was sure.  And I wasn’t.”  Then Gemma frowned.  “What difference does it make anyway?” she asked.

“It makes a hellava different, alright?  Where I come from, it makes a hellava difference!”

“So what are you going to do, Sal?  Fire Robby?  Kill him?”

“I don’t wanna deal with that shit!” Sal yelled.  “I told you that!”

“Don’t you yell at me like that!”  Gemma fired back.

Then they both calmed back down.

“What’s wrong with you anyway?” Gemma asked, her face frowned with puzzlement.  “You’ve known Robby for years.  You know him.  And he’s been nothing but devoted to you.”

“I know that,” Sal said.  “You don’t think I know that?  But it’s not just about Robby and me.  It’s about my entire organization.  I have to think about my organization.  And nobody’s taking that down!  Not even Robby!”

Then Sal leaned his head back.  It was far more complicated than Gemma was making it out to be.  But he couldn’t deal with that tonight!

Gemma saw his distress.  “Bad trip?” she asked him.

“Bad?”  Sal shook his head.  “I honestly don’t think it could have gone any worse,” he said.

Gemma’s heart went out to him.  She saw the stress all in his big, blue eyes.  And she rose from her seat, went around her desk, and stood in front of him, her hand in his hair.

Gemma was a gorgeous specimen of a woman to Sal, and he looked up into her narrow, dark face.  He placed his hands on her hips.  “I love you,” he said.  “You know that, right?”

Gemma smiled.  “I love you, too, Sal.  You know that, right?”

Sal knew it.  “What I don’t understand is why,” he said.

Gemma got on the chair, and straddled Sal.  Sal cupped her small ass with his big hands.  “You’re messy,” she said, staring him in his eyes, “and I’m messy.  There’s no way around that.  But together, you’d think we’d be a mess.  But we aren’t.  Together we’re fierce.”

Sal smiled.  And stared into her big, beautiful eyes.  But his smile slowly dissipated, and he began to kiss her.

He kissed her, passionately, on the lips.  He missed her in ways so powerful he didn’t even know how to verbalize those feelings.  But he knew how to express them in other words.

He stood up, and carried her to the edge of the desk.  He leaned her back against the desk as he continued to kiss her, and their passion for each other was not going to be denied.

Gemma realized almost right away, by the way Sal ripped her panties off; by the way Sal licked her and ate her; by the way Sal entered her with so little foreplay; by the ferocity of his lovemaking, that things had gone desperately wrong in Chicago.  He’d already admitted that things went wrong.  Now he was showing her just how wrong!

But she also knew Sal would never give her any blow-by-blows of exactly what happened, as if just talking about it to her would taint her too, so she didn’t bother asking.  She just opened herself as wide as she could to him, and allowed him to bury himself in her.

Her butt was on the edge of her desk, as she wrapped her arms around Sal’s neck and allowed him to push deeper and deeper inside of her until she was so wet, and he was so erected, that they both felt the fire.  For the longest time, with Sal’s pants and briefs now down to his ankles, they made that kind of hard love.

Sal lifted her blouse, and then her bra, and sucked her big breasts, as he made love to her.  Gemma loved his mouth on her.  She loved his body against hers.  She loved his dick wedged deep inside of her.  She held on, and began pumping too.

And when the feelings took them over, Gemma came first, and then Sal just after.  And then they were cumming together.  Sal was the kind of man with enough control that he could push in and stay in while he came, or he could continue to fuck her.  It could go either way.

This time, he continued to fuck her while he came.  Which made Gemma’s cum that much more lasting, and they continued for a long time.

And when it was over, they leaned into each other, breathing heavily, and held on for dear life.

“I missed you so much,” Gemma said to Sal as she held him.

“I miss you so much more,” Sal replied to Gemma, as he held her.

And it wasn’t meant to be a one up.  It was meant to be what it was: two people scared for each other, and pleased to have each other, all at the same time.

 

Robby Yale still couldn’t believe it.  “She said what?” he asked Curtis.

“She said she wanted us to come over tomorrow morning.”

“Over where?”

“To their house,” Curtis said.

“Did Sal say anything?”

“I didn’t hear him, no.  But what difference does that make?”

“You’re asking me to go to my boss’s house, but you aren’t even sure if my boss wants me at his house at this point!”

“Your boss’s wife invited us over, Rob.  She says she wants me and you at the house tomorrow.  So just stop tripping, alright?  Gemma is a mover and a shaker.  She’s got this.”

“You’re saying that shit,” Robby said, “but you don’t know Sal Gabrini like I know Sal Gabrini.”

“I know him enough,” Curtis said, his finger lifted as if he was making a serious point.  “I know he’s a little racist who doesn’t give a damn about me, or any black people as far as I can see.”

Robby frowned.  “Are you nuts?  He’s married to a black woman!  Duh?  He has a black son!  How in the world can that man be a racist?”

“I’m just telling you what I see when I see him.  I don’t get a great vibe from him, I just don’t.  But I get a great vibe from his wife.  And that’s the only reason I’m going.  She’s got our backs.”

But Robby wasn’t nearly as convinced as Curtis was.

“What is it?” Curtis asked.

“You know Mrs. Gabrini like that.  You figure she has our backs and all that shit.  But I don’t know her like that, Curtis.  You’re asking me to go to this woman and depend on her to work it out for us, and I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because I know her husband!  And I know he’s the kind of man who . . .”

“Who what, Rob?” Curtis asked.  He was getting frustrated with his friend.

“The world we travel in is a different world,” Robby said.

“You mean the underworld?”

Robby never admitted such a thing to Curtis, and wasn’t about to start now.

“Come on, now!  You know I know what Sal Gabrini is up to, okay?  I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were.  But these guys I work around, they ain’t with it, okay?”

“They’re homophobes, you mean?”

“They ain’t with it,” Robby said again.  “They’re the kind of men that . . .”

“That what?”

“That won’t go along with this, okay?  It’s a different world like I told you.  Sal Gabrini rules that world.”

“Then good,” Curtis said.  “If he rules it, he can change it.  And it’s about time things change.”

“I hear you,” Robby said, but he still remained a skeptic.

“You are going, right?” Curtis asked him.  “Because I don’t know if you know it or not,” he added, “but, honey, the cat is out the bag now.  When that man saw me in your driveway tonight, it was over.  No more closets.  No more pretending.  No more secrets and lies.  We’ve got to face the music one way or another.”

Robby nodded.  He knew everything Curtis said was true.  He just didn’t know how Sal wasgoing to handle that truth.