Tommy Gabrini: A Family Man Page 4

  Grace leaned her chest into him, and let him feast. She loved the way he did her so completely that she began massaging his thick hair and rearranging it all over his gorgeous head.

  That was fantastic enough for Grace. She could be satisfied for days with his mouth all over her sensitive breasts. But when he pulled her panties down, over her high heels, and then crouched down between her legs, she knew he was going to make sure she didn’t have to.

  And he made sure. Tommy was the most experienced man she’d ever been with, and he always showed her why. He taught a masterclass in head. And he gave her some that night.

  He gave it to her so powerfully that she leaned her head all the way back, her loose hair dropping down her back in waves of bounciness, and the palm of her hands resting behind her. His head moved back and forward as his tongue did wonderful things to her vagina.

  And when he stood back up, and dropped his own pants and briefs, revealing just how much of an erection he truly had, she licked her upper lip. All of that was about to go deep inside of her, and she wasn’t about to pretend she didn’t want it.

  He entered her. He pulled her upper body up to him and fucked her hard. Grace was panting, she couldn’t help it, and was wrapping her arms around him just to keep from having an orgasm too soon.

  She held on, but she was already on the brink. And when he released a long-lasting aaah, because it felt so good, she couldn’t hold on any longer. She came. Hard and forcefully. And Tommy nodded his approval.

  “That’s what I want,” he leaned into her and whispered. “Cum, my baby. I want you to cum!”

  He loved when Grace had an orgasm. He loved that he was able to give the woman he loved the pleasure he was about to take for himself. Because her body, and that warm womanhood that was tight and wet and enveloping his dick like a cocoon, did it for him.

  And that young lady who wanted to give him a so-called massage, proclaiming herself to be the best around, was fooling herself if she thought she could give to him what Grace gave to him. She couldn’t. Nobody, not any woman he’d ever had, could do that.

  Because, within seconds of Grace’s cum, he was cumming too. And powerful was his cum. He held on just to get her there, and then he went there too. He came so hard that he arched his back and stood on his toes as his dick kept slapping into his wife. As he poured into his wife. He’d been with more women that any human being had a right to be with, but that sensation Grace gave to him, a sensation that made him cum longer and harder every time he fucked her, was always the best he’d ever had.

  And when their orgasms were easing, he wrapped his arms around her and began kissing her with a hard, passionate kiss that caused him to pour even more into her. It had ebbed, but it had not finished. Grace wrapped her arms around him, too, and they continued to kiss.

  By the time it was all over, and he had stopped pouring into her, and kissing her, and holding her so tightly that she could hardly breathe, Tommy looked at her. He placed his hands on the sides of her face, and stared at her.

  “I love you, Grace Gabrini,” he said to her.

  Grace’s heart was full. “I love you, too,” she said.

  “And thank you for coming.”

  Grace smiled.

  “Not that way,” Tommy said, and they both laughed. Then his look turned serious again. “Thank you for coming to my office and reminding me what’s important to me. Fuck more land grabs and this fucking company. Sometimes I need that reminder.”

  Grace gave him a peck on his lips. “They’re asleep now, but I’ll bet if we go on home and wake them up, they’ll be so happy to see you. They’ll forgive you anything, Tommy.”

  Tommy smiled. He didn’t deserve the family he had. But he was taking full advantage of that love. “Deal,” he said.

  And then he eased himself, always reluctantly, out of his wife.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Two days later and Tommy drove his Maserati into the parking lot of Eurosport Mega, a car dealership in suburban Seattle, and stopped at the curb.

  When Grace realized where he had taken her, instead of grabbing lunch at a restaurant he owned, Diamante’s, as she had thought was the plan, she looked at him. “What’s this?”

  “Time for you to get your own wheels, my lady,” he said with a smile.

  “I agree,” Grace said. “Another Lexus.”

  “No.”

  Grace was surprised. “Why not, Tommy?”

  “You need a new car.”

  “Right.”

  “I ordered one for you.”

  Grace looked at him. “Without my input? Tommy! Why would you do something like that?”

  “Because I know you,” he said, removing his seatbelt. “You would be practical and sensible. Get a car, but nothing too elaborate. Nothing too expensive.”

  “Right. What’s wrong with that?” Then she looked sidelong at him. “What have you done?”

  “I went all out,” said Tommy. “I got you what you deserve, instead of what’s practical and sensible. And you’re going to accept it.” He smiled. “It’s a gift. You have no choice.” Then he got out of his car and began walking around the front of the car, toward Grace’s side.

  Grace inwardly smiled as she watched her gorgeous husband head her way. She never thought a good man was in the cards for her. She’d had such bad luck in her past. But to not only get that beautiful Adonis called Tommy Gabrini, but for him to treat her as if she wasn’t just some plain Grace as most men treated her, but the most important person in the world to him, was like a dream come true. She was still pinching herself!

  Tommy opened her car door, assisted her out, and they headed up the steps and into the big, bright showroom. She wore another Tommy purchase: A bright tan Versace pantsuit with flare legs, and high heels. Tommy in his beautifully tailored periwinkle-blue suit and Grace in her pantsuit made them look like the quintessential power couple, as they walked into that showroom.

  As soon as Tommy was spotted, the General Manager jumped from behind his desk in his glass-enclosed office, and hurried out. He had his hand outstretched, and was talking loudly, even before he made it up to them. “Mr. Gabrini, welcome!” he said jovially. He and Tommy shook hands when he arrived at their side. “I see you got my message.”

  “I did indeed,” Tommy said. Then he placed his hand on Grace’s back. “This is my wife, Grace Gabrini.”

  “Mrs. Gabrini,” the GM said. “The lucky lady!” He extended his hand. “How very nice to meet you, madam.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Grace said, shaking his hand.

  “It has arrived?” Tommy asked.

  “It’s here,” the GM said. “Come. See for yourself.”

  Tommy kept his hand on Grace’s back as they followed the GM through the enormous showroom to a dark-gray Bentley Mulsanne sedan, sitting prominently on a turntable. It was on full display.

  Grace was in awe as soon as she saw it. “This is my new car?” she asked Tommy.

  Tommy smiled. It was gorgeous to him too. “A Bentley Mulsanne,” he said. “What do you think?”

  “What do I think? It’s beautiful, Tommy,” Grace said.

  And when the GM pressed the button that stopped the turntable from spinning, Tommy opened the door.

  “Get in,” he said to Grace. “Check it out.”

  Grace didn’t argue with that suggestion. She happily got inside. She could see wealthy ladies looking at her, wondering how did she, of all people, get to possess the prettiest car on the showroom floor. Those looks used to bother her in a major way. Because a big part of her could see their point. Now she just ignored them.

  Especially since that car had her undivided attention. And as soon as she sat inside of it, inhaling that new car smell, she also had a sudden intake of breath when she saw the rich, leather seats that were black and red and with thick white piping. When she saw the two-tone steering wheel with the famous B and those elegant wings out on either side, she smiled. “Wow, Tommy,” she said. “Wow.”<
br />
  Tommy’s heart soared with delight. He got it right! “How does it feel?” he asked her.

  “It feels great. Just great.”

  “Let me finalize the paperwork,” Tommy said, “and then we’ll get it out of here.”

  Grace looked at Tommy. She knew what finalizing paperwork meant. How much does it cost, she wanted to ask him. There was a time when she would have asked him already. But she didn’t ask.

  Tommy knew she wanted to ask it, too, but was pleased that she didn’t. He smiled and headed, with the GM, to the GM’s office.

  But as soon as they left, Grace pulled out her cell phone and Googled Bentley Mulsanne. When she saw a starting price of three-hundred-thousand dollars, she almost dropped her phone. And she almost jumped out of that car and ran to Tommy, ordering him to stop the sale!

  But she didn’t do any of that. She, instead, looked at Tommy as he stood in the GM’s office. A part of her still wanted to stop the transaction. Don’t sign those final papers! Don’t spend that much money on me. I don’t deserve it!

  But another part of her, the bigger part, smiled. She couldn’t say that she deserved such an elegant car. That wasn’t why she smiled. She was smiling because Tommy thought she deserved such an elegant car. That was the reason she smiled.

  “Nice car.”

  It was a male’s voice. Grace looked up and saw a big white guy, who appeared to be in his mid-or-late forties, looking at the car.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “What color is that? I love that color.”

  Grace had to get out of the car and look herself to be sure. “I assumed it was a kind of dark-gray,” she said, “but now I’m not so certain.”

  “Looks like it has some other color in it too, doesn’t it?”

  He was right. But what that other color was, she couldn’t say.

  “I’m only asking because my wife wants one too.”

  Grace looked at him. “She wants a Bentley?” she asked.

  “Yup. Since a child she’s wanted one. Let me show you a picture.”

  As the man pulled out his wallet and fumbled to show her a picture, Grace smiled. This was the world Tommy ran in, she thought. She’d never in her life known anybody who grew up wanting a Bentley. It was like saying you want a limousine when you grow up. Who says that?

  “Here, see,” the man said, holding up a picture.

  Grace was surprised. She thought he was going to show her a picture of the kind of Bentley his wife wanted. Instead, he was showing her a picture of his wife.

  “Recognize her?” he asked.

  It was a photograph of a young, beautiful woman with bright red hair. “No,” Grace said.

  “You should,” the man said. “Since you’re the one who killed her.”

  At the moment the man made that statement, and Grace stared at him as if he was crazy, Tommy almost instinctively looked up from the paperwork he was signing, and saw the man standing by his wife. A man he didn’t know. A man standing a little too close for his comfort.

  And he didn’t hesitate. “Give me a sec,” he said to the talkative GM, and made his way out of the office.

  Within moments of Tommy stepping back onto the showroom floor, the man leaned back, with his fist balled, and was about to swing on Grace with a roundhouse right. Tommy was shocked that anybody would dare raise a fist to his wife, his pregnant wife at that, but his shock didn’t give him any hesitation. He ran.

  He ran so fast that he was able to grab that man’s arm before his fist could connect with any part of Grace’s body, and he grabbed that arm so forcefully that he nearly tore it out of its socket. And then it was Tommy who leaned back and punched that man with such a powerful punch that it knocked him to the shiny showroom floor, right onto his ass.

  But Tommy wasn’t done with him. He got down and dirty too and started raining blows on that man as if they were street fighting. He was punching the man mercilessly. And as his cousin Reno Gabrini once said: “When Tommy hits, that motherfucker stings.”

  Tommy was stinging that man with blow after blow. Tommy was so angry that he didn’t realize Grace was calling for him to stop. He didn’t realize it until he felt her pulling on his suit coat. And then she grabbed his arm.

  “Tommy, don’t!” she was pleading. “He’s the husband of that lady in the accident. He said he’s her husband!”

  Tommy was about to hit the man yet again, but he managed to stop himself. Grace’s words registered.

  “He’s the husband of the lady that died,” she said. “He thinks that accident was my fault. That’s why he did it.”

  Tommy’s anger was still there; it had not subsided. But he did get off of the man. He looked at Grace.

  “I’m okay; he didn’t hit me,” Grace said, knowing that Tommy was searching her face to see for himself that she was alright.

  And even with the GM now coming out of his office too, and other salesmen and customers looking on as if they were beneath them, Tommy still didn’t care. He grabbed the man and lifted him up from the floor. He kept his hands on the man’s shirt and pushed him against the Bentley: he didn’t give a fuck if his actions caused a dent. He was sorry about the man’s misfortune, but he wasn’t about to let him take it out on Grace.

  “Your wife ran a red light,” he said to the grieving husband. “It was her fault. Not my wife’s fault. It was your wife’s fault,” he emphasized, leaning the man away from the car and then slamming him back against it.

  “Tommy, please,” Grace said anxiously, touching his arm. She knew Tommy’s temper could be lethal when it was fully unleashed, but she also knew it couldn’t get to that this time. She understood why he was angry. She was upset too. But the man’s wife died in a violent car crash less than a week-and-a-half ago, and she happened to be driving the car the woman crashed into. Now Grace was going on with her life, while that man was suffering a horrible loss. She urged Tommy to understand that.

  Tommy understood it, but he also understood what that grieving husband would have done to Grace had he not intervened. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said to the now crying man, “but you will not lay that guilt at my wife’s feet. You will not!” Then he released the man with a push away.

  “Is everything alright?” the GM asked nervously as he made it to the scene. He loved that Gabrini money, because it was deep and was therefore good for business. But he wasn’t so much in love with the Gabrini name because of the mob connections that name conjured up. He’d heard Tommy even had a younger brother, Sal Gabrini, who wasn’t just connected to the mob, but was a major boss in the mob. That part of the Gabrini mystique was bad for business. “Should I alert authorities?” he asked, assuming that would be enough to stop what he considered to be Tommy’s bullying of a lesser man.

  But Tommy nor Grace gave that GM a second glance. That man was all they were focused on. “Get out of here,” Tommy said to the man, certain that his temper would rise again if he had to keep looking a second longer at the person who had dared to try to harm his wife.

  The man apparently wasn’t so aggrieved that he didn’t understand the peril he was in. He eagerly left the showroom floor, and the car dealership altogether.

  “What happened?” the GM was asking, attempting to hide his disdain for these people, but Tommy was looking at Grace. Then he pulled her into his arms.

  But he was worried as he held her. Was somebody out there targeting his wife? He knew it was irrational. How could an innocent car accident and a grieving husband be considered targeting?

  But that was how it felt to Tommy.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Three days later at Trammel Trucking and Grace, the owner and CEO, was in her office stuffing papers into her briefcase and preparing to leave for the day. Her secretary was standing beside her desk, discussing her schedule for tomorrow, and TJ was sitting on the small, leather couch playing a game on his cell phone. Trammel Trucking had a daycare on premises, and TJ attended it daily, with the daycare director bringing
him to Grace’s office during lunchtime, and every evening before she left for home.

  “Three tomorrow won’t work,” Grace was saying to her secretary as she placed more papers into her briefcase. “Move it up. I have a meeting at one-thirty and it may not be a short one.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” her secretary said. “And finally, we have interviews next week. And quite a few applicants.”

  “Which position is it?”

  “The deputy director of Human Resources. You said you wanted to make that selection yourself.”

  “That’s right.” Then she put the last stack of papers into her briefcase, and remembered what her secretary had said. “You said a lot of applicants? How many?”

  The secretary looked down at her list. “As of right now we have forty-three.”

  Grace was floored. “Forty-three?” They usually had only four or five applicants for jobs of that caliber.

  “And some of these resumes are off the chain, Boss. These people are over-qualified. A good job like deputy HRD must be hard to come by in this economy.”

  “That may be, but we’re going to interview every one of them. At least those that meet the minimum qualifications.”

  “You want me to go through the resumes, and ween some out?”

  Grace knew how easily somebody with less sterling experience could easily be overlooked by a rigid ween-out. She would have never advanced at Trammel if they were going strictly by her resume. She started off as an assistant herself. “No,” she said. “Leave them on my desk. I’ll go through them tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the secretary said, and Grace was just about to grab her briefcase and tell TJ to come on. But before she could do either of those things, her door opened, and Tommy walked in.

  Surprised, she smiled. “What are you doing here?”

  When she said that, TJ looked up only briefly at his father, but was too consumed by his kid’s game for it to sink in that it was actually his father. “Hey, Daddy,” he said noncommittally as he looked back down at his game. Then, realizing what he had just said, he looked again, and his bright eyes shined. “Daddy!” he cried, threw his phone onto the couch, and ran to his father.