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Lorenzo steps in front of me, and he is more serious than ever. “Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head, “No.”
Lorenzo places his hands on me, “You’re okay now.” I nod, and as Lorenzo steps towards Billy, two big men stand protectively between me, Lorenzo and Billy.
They form a wall, and I just make out Lorenzo lift Billy.
He holds the waster of a man up and I remember thegun.
I’m not fast enough and Lorenzo holds Billy up by his denim collar. “I have two jobs to do. One is keeping my girl safe. The second. Keeping her happy. You’re in the fucking way. Come near her again and you go in a box. Touch her and you fucking die.”
Lorenzo punches Billy lightning fast, and he is suddenly out cold. He holds Billy down on the ground and finds the gun. Lorenzo’s men walk over, and they take the gun and haul Billy away.
A navy suit blocks my view and it’s him. My man.
“Let’s get you home.”
I look into Lorenzo’s strong face and unshaken self. I start to calm. He generates such calming safe energy, I start to breathe, and I let it all go.
On the roofof our apartment, I explain who Billy is. And who he was. Lorenzo is calm, and collected, and he tells me he’ll have me followed and watched when alone. “Just for a month or two.”
I nod, still shaken. Lorenzo pulls me into his arms. “Relax baby. No one will touch you, as long as I’m alive. I’m here for you, understand?”
28
LORENZO
I awaken Sunday, with Storm in my bed, we slept the night together, again. Whether it was good, bad, complicated or wrong, it happened, and it is what it is.
Storm rose before me, and she wandered out of the bedroom. I’m unsure if we are getting attached to each other, or, if I am, or she is.
Either way, things are moving fast.
All I know is, that I’ve never felt better, and I want her in my life.
Music is now playing, and it is more upbeat than I’d usually play myself. I welcome the change, and I can smell food.
I like the combination, and after a long period of no real relationships, and no woman in the penthouse, unless for controlled sex, it feels good.
She feels good.
I pull black gym shorts on, and I walk into the living room rotating my neck. For the last thirty-six hours, we have worked out hard, if you can call it that. Hard core sex is likely the more accurate term.
Storm is in the kitchen, busy cooking, and she wears the cute white apron again.
I watch from a far, and as she slides more pancakes into the oven standing on her toes, I notice she has no panties on, or even her, cute as heck, cotton knickers.
I look down at my shorts, and my cock is hungry, again. “Oh shit.”
Storm turns, and she checks the next pancake. She catches me watching her, and playfully she raises a brow “Morning perv.”
I walk up, shaking my head at her moxie. “Hey.” I leap onto the kitchen island, so I can watch the show. Storm hands me her coffee, and I pause.
Are we now sharing?
Screw it, I think, as I drink.
The coffee is good, and it’s needed. Storm buzzes around casually, and she hums happily to herself. She is as cute as a button, and she acts as if this,us, here and now, is nothing big.
