Letters to the Baumgarters (13 page)

“No.” He tossed his keys on the table. They had a flat full of furniture
now. “He had business. And we have an understanding.”

“Do you tie a sock on the doorknob?”

He laughed, reaching for me. “So tell me something.”

“I’m a man in a woman’s body,” I confessed, putting my arms around his
neck.

“Now I know that isn’t true.”

“I’m a woman who wants a man’s body,” I murmured, pressing my breasts
against his chest.

“Well, that I believe.” He smiled, his eyes lighting up. “But you’re not
getting out of it so easily. Tell me something real.”

“Something real…” I pulled away from him, wandering around the flat.
Mason had come with practically nothing, so the apartment spoke more of Nico’s
tastes, which meant a more classic Italian design. “I can’t think of anything.”

“You promised,” he reminded me, taking my hand and leading me to the
sofa. “You’re such a mystery.”

“You want to know something real about me?” I asked, letting him pull me
onto his lap.

“Yes.”

“Okay…” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “I had a baby. With
Mason.”

He was quiet for so long I had to look.

“And where is this baby?” he finally asked.

“She’s…” I blinked fast, looking away, and whispered the word. “Dead.”

“Ah bella…” He took a deep breath, taking my hand in his. “This explains
so much…”

I gave a short, sharp laugh. “Her name was Isabella.”

“Oh no. All this time…” His eyes widened, his jaw dropping. “No wonder
you didn’t want me to call you bella! I’m so sorry.”

He turned my palm over, kissing it repeatedly.

“She was stillborn.” It was so hard to talk about it, even now, but
another part of me felt relieved to be sharing it—sharing her. “I was
thirty-eight weeks pregnant. Almost full term.”

“That’s… tragic.”

Tragico.
The ultimate tragedy. Yes, tragic was the perfect word.

“Is this why you got divorced?”

I shrugged, looking away. “Maybe partly. It was hard.”

“I can’t imagine.” He held me closer, cradling my head on his shoulder.
“Poor bella…” He sighed, smacking himself in the forehead. “Stupid! I won’t
call you that anymore.”

“No, it’s okay,” I assured him. “I actually like it.”

“You do?”

I nodded. “I miss her, and you calling me bella… it reminds me. In a good
way. I love hearing her name.”

“Bella, bella, bella,” he whispered, kissing my forehead. “You are so
brave, so sweet.”

I tilted my head up and pressed my lips to his, closing my eyes and
losing myself in the kiss. It wasn’t difficult to do. Being with Nico always
transported me somewhere outside of myself and yet kept me firmly present in the
world at the same time.

The kiss deepened and I slipped my hand behind his neck, our tongues
meeting, doing an electric dance. Wanting him happened so fast, it always
surprised me.

“The bedroom,” I murmured.

There was more than just a bed in it now—a night table, a dresser. Nico
sat on the bed as I closed the door. I went to him, so overwhelmed with my own
confession I could barely stay on my feet. He pulled me into his arms, buoying
me up.

“Are you all right?”

“Just dizzy I guess,” I whispered, running my fingers through his dark,
thick curls. “Too much emotion in the past few weeks.”

“Poor bella.” He kissed me softly, his hands moving over my back, petting
me.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” I pleaded. “Let’s not talk.”

“Yes.” He kissed me more deeply, his tongue twining with mine, exploring
the soft recesses of my mouth. I didn’t want to talk or think. I just wanted to
be with him, to be as close as I could get to him. I thought briefly about
Mason, and felt a little guilty, but I knew he would be gone for hours.

“Undress for me.” Nico leaned back on the bed and watched, expectant.

I slid my t-shirt off over my head, tossing it on the floor. My bra was
front hook and that came off too. By the time I was unbuttoning my jeans, he
was unbuttoning his own, freeing his cock. I bit my lip at the sight of it, at
the casual way he stroked himself as I stripped for him.

When I was naked, I crawled up between his legs on the bed, nuzzling his
hand out of the way and taking his cock in my mouth. He made a soft noise in
his throat, watching me lick the head. I loved the way he curved under my
tongue, the thick feel of it sliding into my mouth. He reached for my breast,
letting it fill his hand, teasing my nipple as I sucked him.

“Touch yourself,” he said.

I reached down to part my pussy lips, my fingers sliding in the wetness,
finding my clit and rubbing. Nico’s hands kneaded my breasts, thumbing my
nipples, driving me to distraction. I couldn’t concentrate on sucking him when
he did that and I squirmed on the bed.

“Come here.” He reached for me and I crawled my way up, peeling his shirt
off as I went. It was his gondolier uniform, black and white stripes. I tossed
it off the bed, letting him guide me further up, up, until I was straddling his
chest. His eyes drank me in, his gaze moving over my breasts, down my belly,
focusing on the parted, swollen lips of my pussy.

“So beautiful.” He used one finger to trace the swell of my mound,
teasing my clit briefly, watching my face. “Touch yourself, Dani. I want to watch
you come.”

“Like this?” I bit my lip, cupping my pussy, rocking my palm against my
flesh. His eyes lit up when I parted my pussy lips, showing him more pink,
giving him a glimpse of my hooded little clit. It was throbbing.

Nico slipped a hand down to grab his cock. I glanced back and saw him
fisting the length, rubbing the tip with his thumb as he watched me. I held my
pussy lips open with one hand so he could see, using the fingers of my other to
rub myself, first my clit in little circles, then sliding down to my hole. So
juicy, nice and wet. I rubbed the slickness into my clit.

“Faster,” he insisted, licking his lips. “Finger yourself.”

I slid two fingers into my pussy, using my thumb to strum against my
clit, rocking on top of him. My breath came faster, my nipples hardening. I saw
him looking from my breasts to my pussy to my face, like he couldn’t decide
where to focus. He stroked himself faster, matching my rhythm, his eyes
half-closed.

“It feels so good,” I whimpered, rubbing myself feverishly now. Nico
fixated on my pussy, his eyes glazed, as I got closer and closer to orgasm. “Oh
god. I’m gonna come. Yes! Oh now! Now!”

My body announced my climax, my hips bucking, pussy snapping closed on my
plunging fingers. I cried out and arched my back, feeling dizzy and looking to
steady myself. Nico’s hands went to my hips, holding me up, supporting me as my
orgasm rushed through me, a fire in my veins.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, and I looked down, seeing how wet his chest was
with my pussy juices. The hair there glistened with it.

“Oh my fucking god,” I said in English, rolling onto the bed with a soft
groan.

“I don’t know about God.” Nico smiled. “But you can fuck me.”

I laughed, lifting my head to look at him, still so very hard, his cock
dripping with precum.

“Do you want to fuck me?” I shifted on the bed, lifting my ass in the
air. “Do you want to slide into my hot, wet, tight—?”

He groaned, shoving his pants and boxers down and rolling up next to me
on the bed so fast I barely had time to register it. Then he was sliding his
cock home, shoving my legs apart with his, driving me forward on the bed. I
cried out as he thrust, deeper, harder, slamming the bed against the wall.

“Oh god!” I grabbed onto the edge of the mattress. “Oh god! Oh god!”

Nico leaned over me, still thrusting, his breath hot in my ear. “I love
fucking you.”

“Yes!” I agreed, giving back as good as I was getting, grinding and
rolling my hips. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

God help me, I loved getting fucked by him.

“That’s it,” he growled, driving me further up on the bed. “Take that
cock. Take it!”

I took it. My pussy squealed and squelched in protest, the sound of our
fucking filling the room, but I took him, his hands cupping my breasts, my
nipples hard under his fingers as we bucked together on the bed. His teeth
grazed my shoulder, his mouth sucking at the flesh of my neck as he pressed me
down onto the bed, forcing me to take his full weight.

“Nico,” I gasped, wiggling under him, his cock at an extreme angle,
impaling me again and again. He forced my legs wide with his, hips making fast,
hard circles, his pelvis rocking against my ass.

“Rub your pussy,” he insisted, panting in my ear. “Get yourself off. I
want to come inside you.”

I twisted my hips so I could reach my pussy from underneath, rubbing
furiously at my throbbing clit, closing my eyes and just letting him fuck me.
The hard, thrusting swell of his cock drove me on, and I surrendered to the
sensation, letting him take me just where I’d wanted to go all along. It was
exquisite torture, our bodies shiny with sweat from the effort.

“Oh fuck!” He slowed, but I knew it was too late. I could feel how his
cock swelled inside of me, beginning to pulse. “Ohhhhhh fuck! Fuck! I’m
coming!”

“Yes!” I gasped and spread for him, arching my back and giving him more
of my pussy, taking him as deep as I could. My own orgasm chased his, finally
catching up just as the last of his cum overflowed my capacity, seeping out
around the base of his cock. I screamed as the force of it surged through me, fully
alive and electric, the thundering force of it threatening to melt me into a
puddle on the mattress.

“Oh bella.” He collapsed, kissing me deeply before rolling to the side,
pulling me in close and yanking the covers over us. I didn’t say anything, but
snuggled back happily in his arms, too dazed and confused to do anything else.
We rested like that for a long time, quiet, our breathing deep and even.

I thought about going home. I didn’t want to be here when Mason got back.
Nico was breathing deep and even beside me, and I thought he was asleep. He
probably thought I was too.

Which is why I didn’t say a word when he kissed my temple and whispered,
“Choose me, bella. Choose me. Please, choose me.”

I just kept my eyes closed.

Chapter Six

Dear Carrie and Doc,

I am so confused. I know you said I just need to be honest with them,
and myself, and I know you’re right. But what if I don’t know what I want? If I
don’t know my own heart?

I’m sorry I keep laying things on you like this, but when I write to
you, somehow things get clearer. I start figuring out what’s going on in my
head, and things inevitably come out that I didn’t even realize I felt. I know
you said you don’t mind, but I feel like I have to apologize anyway. You’ve got
enough going on with school and Janie and your own life. Like you need my
problems too?

I’m trying to be honest and truthful about my feelings. I’m trying to
figure out what it is I really want. A life with Mason? A life with Nico? The
third option would be a life without either of them, which I can’t even begin
to conceive of. Losing them both would break my already-broken heart into
another million little pieces, and I just don’t think I could pick them all up
this time.

Mason’s been my best friend for years. We’ve been through so much
together. Even after we divorced, I never stopped loving him. I think we both
needed the time and space and distance to grow. To grow up. To heal too. We’re
so much better now than we ever were before.

But Nico… he’s so sweet, so generous and open and tender. How can I
not love him too? And it isn’t just physical. If it were just the sex, I could
give that up. We have so much in common—a love for this country, for the people
and the food. We spend hours roaming galleries together, talking about art and
culture. He’s so passionate, about life, about everything. About me. He makes
me feel alive in ways I haven’t in so long.

The truth is, I’m selfish.

I want them both.

And I know, I know. It’s just not possible…

* * * *

“Easter means you can eat chocolate again?” I asked Nico, holding one of
his sister’s homemade truffles just out of his reach.

“Don’t tease the animals, dear.” Mason snatched the chocolate from my
hand, tossing it to Nico, who caught it and stuffed it into his mouth before I
could even protest.

“Meanie!” I stuck my tongue out at him. “You never let me have any fun.”

“Are they good?” Giulia asked, shifting the baby over her shoulder. He
was bigger now, a few months old, able to hold his own head up, gazing around
at us with big, dark eyes. Just looking at him made my uterus hurt. Literally.
The cramps came in waves, although my period wasn’t due for another week.

“Fantastic, as always.” Nico kissed his sister’s cheek, leaving a smear
of chocolate there. She laughed, wiping it off, as her brother reached for his
nephew, lifting him high in his arms, making the baby giggle. When Luka’s eyes
got wide, being so high, Nico handed him back to his sister before the baby
could begin to cry.

“You’re such a tease.” Mason sat next to me on the sofa, putting an arm
casually around my shoulder. Nico saw this and sat on my other side, taking my
hand. I couldn’t help the heat filling my cheeks, seeing Mama Dorotea frowning
in our direction, the way Nico’s sister Anna and her husband glanced at us from
where they were playing cards at the dining room table with the kids.

Caprice, being the precocious teenager she was, looked between the three
of us with big eyes and started asking the questions everyone wanted to know—in
English, of course, because Mason didn’t speak much Italian. “So you’re
married?”

“We
were
married,” I corrected her. “We’re divorced now.”