"A carpet?" I chuckled, and took her hand. The way our fingers laced together so perfectly, made me grin even wider.
"You better guess again."
"But I don't have the slightest clue! Why can't you just tell me?" she groaned with a cute pout, but I zipped my mouth and pretended to throw away the key. It was entertaining to tease her like this, but at the same time I knew I was playing with fire. She might seem sweet and innocent like an angel, but she had a temper like a bull in the fighting ring and could slay me right open if she wanted to.
"I hate surprises," she mumbled when she realized her pleading didn't work. Nevertheless, she entered the diner with a smile when I held the door for her.
"Always a gentleman."
"Only for you," I replied with a smirk.
Damn right, Aaron. When Allison fell on her face and straight into a puddle of water when she tried to get out of your car, you didn't lift a finger. You straight up laughed for a good fifteen minutes after! No gentleman there. Nah. But it was hella fun.
We found a table by the window and got our menus, and after ordering our food I let my gaze drift across the room from one corner to the next. It was a cute place, with elements that looked like the inside of a really old bus. A couple of decorations were made of tires, and the chairs were old-fashioned double bus seats in white leather and red seams. A jukebox was placed strategically next to the counter, encouraging people to use it, and I would too if I was in the right mood. Then I'd probably choose something cheesy and give Martina a little show. Maybe she'd join me if it was 'You're all that I want' from Grease?
Ha! Riiiight... She'd be so embarrassed that she'd crawl under the table. Wait... Under the table? A lot of things can happen under a table. She could suc...
"What are you thinking about, Aaron?" she suddenly asked, and I realized that she'd been looking at me.
"Uhm... Nothing special," I said, but wasn't sure if I felt embarrassed or plain mischievous. Still, instead of telling her, I distracted her with my original thought.
"The colors of the apron on their uniform match with the curtains," I stated and made her look around. There were tiny red and white squares everywhere, even on the table cloths and napkins. Only the squares on the floor were black and white.
"If that's not a clear sign that the manager is a woman, then nothing is."
Martina giggled before she took a sip of her water.
There weren't that many people today, which was a relief. The place was actually merely half full, which gave my mind room to drift back to what happened a couple of hours ago.
I just didn't understand. Maybe I would one day or maybe I wouldn't, but right now everything was like a thick syrup in my head. I would never find out who my biological father was, and neither would Bree. Then again, would I actually consider trying to find him if I knew he was still out there somewhere? I had my doubts. Some things were best to be left alone. Especially with a past like that. I had absolutely no respect for rapists.
But how did they manage to get away with murder? My mom killed my biological dad, and the church somehow made it look like a natural death. I didn't know how the man died, but I highly doubt stabbing yourself ten times would count as suicide. Because that's what I'd do if I was my mom. And with the roughest, dullest and most rusty sawtooth knife I could find too, just to increase the damage.
Would I even manage to look at her like my mom after this? She'd been lying to me for my entire life, yet I couldn't find it in me to be mad at her either. I knew she did it because she thought it was the best thing to do. I mean, she couldn't exactly tell her three years old son that she deliberately killed his dad. But to risk having everything blown up in his face one day... And in a courtroom?
"Are you okay, baby?" Martina asked softly and pulled me out of my chaotic mind. She caressed my pointing finger as our hands were resting on the table. We sat opposite each other, and she read every small change in my facial expressions as if she somehow knew what I was thinking. She'd always been like that, and even though it sometimes scared me, it made me feel thankful too. I didn't have to explain everything. She was my person. We were meant to be. I didn't know who decided that, but I'd kiss the fucking ground he was walking on if I could.
"Yeah," I sighed, and I couldn't be more honest. I would be eventually, anyway. Neither of us said anything more, but I could see in her eyes that she understood. I would be fine thanks to her, and it seemed as though the feeling was mutual. Things hadn't exactly been easy for her either, having to testify against the horrible man who attacked and threatened her.
"Your Cavatelli con Scampi, sir," a voice suddenly sounded next to me, and when I turned to look, it wasn't the same middle-aged woman who took our orders. It was a boy who looked like he was barely legal.
And his eyes are all over Bambi. Tell him to get lost. Just grab your plate, poke his eyeballs and stick a spoon up his ass.
"That's my girlfriend's," I corrected sourly and emphasized the last word probably a little too much, because I saw Martina gave me a what-the-hell-look. And I don't blame her, because the dish was actually mine. I just said it to embarrass him.
"And we ordered garlic bread on the side, which is usually served first. Why isn't it served first?"
"I... I don't know. It didn't say garlic bread on your order, sir, so..."
"Well, it says so now," I interrupted.
We had a minor stare-down, which he lost. And by the time he came back, I'd swapped places so I was sitting next to Martina on her side of the table, with her closest to the window. She was not amused, and it was so obvious that even a blind man in the street outside would know.
That's the most dead-panned look anyone has given anybody since humans evolved from Neanderthals. Okay, Aar. Maybe you took this a bit too far.
The boy returned with a basket of bread, and placed it in front of us while avoiding my stare at all costs. Maybe he'd thought we were father and daughter, and therefore found it appropriate to flirt? Even if that wasn't the reason, I still found it disrespectful. So, just to erase every trace of doubt, I put my arm behind Martina and pulled her closer to my body, until she pushed me away as soon as the guy left.
"Jealousy does not look good on you, Aaron," she grumbled.
"What? I'm just stating..."
"That you're a primitive caveman? Congratulations, you've succeeded," she said with a glare of disapproval. Then she switched our plates so she could have her desired lasagna, and started to eat.
"But, Bambi..." I whined quietly. I didn't want to lose face now that I'd marked my territory in front of pretty much everybody. So I placed my hand on her thigh under the table and gave it a squeeze, only to have it shoved back to my own thigh.
"Don't disturb a pregnant woman while she's eating unless you want your arms chewed off," she mumbled between mouthfuls, and it would have been cute if it wasn't for the evil gremlin aura that surrounded her. I gulped. Then I nervously looked around to see if anybody saw, and sniffed cockily out in the air when I discovered an old married couple who obviously had witnessed the whole ordeal, as if that would save my manliness. Luckily Martina's mood gradually got better the fuller she got, and when she started stealing food from my plate I finally made her giggle when I declared war with my fork.
"So... You and Bree..." she started after we'd stopped laughing. She wiped her mouth with a napkin.
"Have you always been that mean to each other?"
"As if our lives depended on it."
Judging by the expression on Martina's face, she needed me to elaborate.
"We've served each other the worst insults we could think of for as long as I can remember. That's normal for us. I actually think the word verbal abuse got a brand new section in the encyclopedia, thanks to us."
"But seriously. It's like forcing a polar bear to be friends with a penguin."
"A polar... But they..."
"...live on the opposite poles?" I finished, and she nodded in confusion.
"Exactly my point. And when you still put both in the same cage... You get my drift. And just to make it clear; she was the polar bear, trying to eat me."
Martina didn't laugh anymore. Instead she fell into deep thoughts that made me a bit worried.
"What about Rocco in all of this?" she asked eventually, and a terrible feeling of guilt washed over me.
"He..." I started, but didn't have any good explanation.
"...was the cute, little polar fox who had to witness this every day?"
Martina nailed it so perfectly on the head that I felt nauseous.
"I guess you can say that," I said quietly when reality struck me. And it didn't make it any better when she didn't say anything for over a minute.
"I wish I knew this earlier."
Martina looked so heartbroken I wished I never told her.
"All his little quirks, and the things he refused to talk about. The topics he avoided and situations that made him freak out. Some of them were probably related to his sexuality, but everything else..."
Suddenly she looked at me with large, scared eyes, and a shiver of fear ran down my spine and gave me unpleasant goosebumps.
"Promise me none of that will happen with our daughter."
I don't know what I'd expected, but what she said made me laugh.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, I'm serious!" she snapped, but quiet enough not to draw attention.
"And so am I when I say that I promise to do my best to make sure she'll have the best childhood anyone can get, and with parents who love both her and each other."
Martina blinked a couple of times, but she was still too serious for my liking.
"Look, Bambi... I've been a certified asshole for most of my life, so I can't promise that I won't mess up in the future. That's not realistic. But I promise I will give you everything I've got to prove that I've learned from the many times I've fucked up. I might not always know what to do, but at least I know what I shouldn't."
I shrugged, and she finally looked convinced. And after a moment in thoughts, she hugged me, hard.
"Thank you, Aaron. That's all I need to know."
I stroked her back and kissed her hair, and felt a somewhat desperate urge to make the situation less serious. There had been enough of that today to last several years. At least compared to my old, reckless self.
"That and a couple of orgasms," I murmured into her ear, and felt her stiffen in my arms. And when we pulled apart, her whole face was red and she gave me a look that dared me to say another word.
Take that dare and run for it, Aaron!
"There's always room for some dessert, right?" I shrugged innocently, like I didn't just suggest the dirty deeds. And after squinting at me for a moment or two, she relaxed a bit. But not for long, because soon after I placed my hand on her thigh and stroked upwards, while I made sure my fingers reached as far up between her legs as possible. Then I leaned closer again and whispered:
"You can have a lollipop while I eat your KitKat."
The moan that ripped open her lips made me smirk, and her panicked glances around in the diner made me chuckle. Then she nailed me with her eyes, totally failing at hiding the fire I'd ignited in her.
"Why do you always do this?" she hissed through clenched teeth. Her cheeks were bright red and I somehow knew her nipples were erect in her bra, just like my dick was growing in my pants.
"Do what?" I asked, pretending to be clueless.
"Say things like that at such inappropriate times!" she whisper-yelled. But I kept pushing, and gave her a seductive half-smirk.
"Because your reaction to it never fails. Your mind is just as dirty as mine, and you instantly start thinking about how good it feels when I rub you."
She tried to push my hand away as discreetly as she could, but I wasn't letting her go that easily.
"Or when I suck on your delicious little clit..."
"Aaron, I swear to God."
"...or when I split you in half with my cock."
The second I said that last word, my hand slipped out of her grip and hit her pussy with much more force than I intended, and she let out a whimper. But I continued my little game, and completely ignored the people around us. They couldn't see anything anyway, since my back shielded us from their curiosity.
"You know, those elastic maternity pants are quite practical," I whispered and moved my hand to the waistband.
"Aaron..." she tried, but the way our eyes were locked made her unable to protest much. Not in a way that convinced me to stop, at least. So I watched her lips part with a breathless gasp, and her pupils dilated when my hand slipped into her pants and panties. And already before my fingers had found her little pearl, a crash of electricity hit my groin with full force.
"I want you," I murmured, as if she didn't already know. Such true words, yet I knew I had to wait. Nevertheless, it didn't stop me from making her feel good.
"Don't make a sound, okay?"
Martina swallowed quickly and nodded. Then her eyes rolled back when I started moving my fingers. She felt so slick and warm, that I had to move a bit to sit more comfortably, because dick was throbbing so hard it hurt. I watched her sigh with lust, and it made me fantasize about the way she always chanted my name in bed, until her voice got so hoarse that it cracked, when she screamed the second she erupted like a volcano.
"Imagine my cock sliding in and out of your pussy, just like my fingers do now," I whispered, and sunk my middle and ring fingers inside her. She almost moaned out loud.
"Quiet, Bambi," I reminded her, and she squeezed her eyes shut and dug her teeth deep into the flesh of her lip. I wanted to kiss those lips. No, I wanted more than that. I wanted to kiss her whole body, and play its strings just like I did on my guitar. But that would have to wait.
"Envision how I fill you up until you beg for mercy."
Her breathing was strained and she kept her eyes closed. Slowly her hands grasped around my wrist to increase her pleasure, and I smiled. Both because she was so incredibly responsive, but most of all because she was the most fascinating creature I ever came across. I could almost see the rainbow of colors burn deep inside her and seep through her pores, flaring through the air in an arrhythmic pulse of pleasure. So stunning. So addictive.
"Faster," she whispered, and I knew she was close. What I also though, saw the same annoying boy as earlier head in our direction, probably to ask if we needed anything else. I already wanted to punch him.
"Bambi," I warned, and removed my hand from her pussy. Her suppressed, shivering exhale that followed was completely understandable, and her eyes looked dazed when she watched me discreetly suck my fingers clean. Then the boy walked up in front of us and grinned stupidly. Luckily he seemed oblivious to what we were doing, as was everyone else.
"Would you like anything else?" he asked, and I closed my eyes to keep myself from rolling them.
Give us a fucking bed, please. And kick yourself out into the streets when you're done, thank you.
"No, thanks. We just wanna pay," I said flatly and made sure to shield my heated and quietly panting girlfriend behind me.
"Yes, sir. I'll be right back."
He sent me a strange glance and I sent him a scowl that made him hurry up. And soon after, Martina and I left the diner hand in hand, although her with a little thunder cloud above her head.
"Why, Aaron? Why do you always do things like that when I least expect it?"
I chuckled as I helped her get into the car. Then I climbed in behind the wheel and put the key in the ignition, but without turning it.
"That's kind of the whole point, though. To be spontaneous and daring."
"Do you know how close I was in there?" she huffed, and the words came out like a thick soup of annoyance.
"Uhm... Yeah? I meant to..."
"You could at least have chosen a place where I could finish!"
Oops. She's mad.
"But I thought we had plenty of time," I exclaimed in defense.
"I didn't know that idiot would spoil everything."
"That idiot was only doing his job, and you..."
I kissed her.
"Uhm... I..." she stuttered when I stopped, and licked her lips.
"What I said was..."
I kissed her again, and earned a little moan when I reached over the mid-console and placed my hand on her thigh. I was going to finish what I started. Damn right, I would. And to non-verbally tell her that, I teased the tip of her tongue with my own while I went head on target.
I snickered inwardly when I felt the damp spot in her pants. I already knew her panties were drenched, and my boxers felt pretty sticky from precum, too. But since we still were at the parking lot outside of the diner, it would be too obvious if she climbed on my lap and started riding me. I wouldn't really care if we got caught, but I knew she would. Besides, she deserved way better than that. Nevertheless, giving my girlfriend a much needed release with my hand wouldn't cause any problems.
Or... That's what I thought. But after demanding her to stay quiet while I once again sunk my fingers into her, there was a knock on the window.
"Oh, for fucks sake!" I grumbled and opened it.
"What?" I barked at the man outside. At least it wasn't a cop. Martina quickly tried to compose herself, while I tried to decide whether licking my fingers clean right in front of him would be inappropriate or not.
Look up inappropriate in the dictionary, Aaron, and you'd be surprised. Smartass.
"Dude! That's a dope car you've got there," he slurred, clearly not very sober.
"Yeah, thanks. Bye."
But the man didn't listen. Of course he didn't.
"Is it a 66?"
"67 classic fastback, with a customized ten speed automatic transmission to be exact," I mumbled quickly. I'd always been proud when people complimented my black pearl, but now I was just irritated.
"Sweet, man. How much does it cost?"
"More than the alimony you're paying your three baby-mamas for ten years. Go back to your Mazda."
"Baby-mamas? What the hell? What did..."
But I didn't hear the rest because I quickly rolled up the window and started the engine with a roar. And I was a bit rougher on the pedal just to state my point. My Mustang was the perfect monster. Period.
"And where are we going now?" Martina asked, still confused and quite a bit angry.
"To the mall to make out in the fruit section, just so you can make a joke about fertilizing my eggs?"
I laughed even though I was partially scared of her right now.
"No, we're not, but that was actually a good one. Maybe we should try that s..."
"The hell we're not!" she snapped, and I stared at the red light and begged it to turn green.
"A hotel. We're finding a hotel."