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She listened like the good little girl she was and let herself go, climaxing and letting her juices drip down my arm. I pulled my hand out and stuck the fingers in my mouth, sucking on them hard. Her taste was fragrant with a hint of piquancy that made my head spin. It was stronger than a blow of coke.
“Monster, you blew me away.”
“Good.” I gave her a soft kiss on her lips that were plump from all the biting. “Let’s go shopping now.”
“Wait. What about you?”
Me? My dick was solid like cement, and it was pushing through my jeans, begging for Catherinelle’s attention, but I’d be damned if I’d take her while we were parked in a filthy alley while anyone could walk by and see.
“I’ll live, princess, let’s go.”
I’d regret my words soon enough. Catherinelle dragged me all around Manhattan, hunting for gifts. With the holidays coming around, she wanted to make sure no one was let off the list. Halfway through the day, I was grateful my Christmas list was damn empty. We hit every designer store on 5th Avenue, Macy’s, Bloomingdale’s, jewelry stores, everything that was for sale, Catherinelle got at least one. I could almost hear Gino’s credit card crying every time she swiped it.
She got something for every one of her cousins, friends, her mom, her brother and Muse, Ignazio. She even got something for Roman’s fucking dog – a little collar with a bejeweled bone hanging from it. How fucking ridiculous was that? I carried so many boxes and marched through so many stores, I felt as sore as if I’d have gone through one of my brutal workouts, but it was worth it. Catherinelle was a giver; this was her love language. With every gift she bought for others, she was even more joyful.
There was one store she told me to wait in the car – a fancy gentleman’s store, and she said she was looking for a belt for Ignazio, but she already picked up a handkerchief with gold embroider for him. I knew she went in there to buy something for me and that fucked me up. No one had ever given me anything. There were no birthday presents because I didn’t have birthdays, no handouts, no Christmas gifts, nothing. I’d had to fight tooth and nail for everything I ever got, from my honor and respect to everything I owned. I fought, I killed, I stole, and I killed again. But now this extraordinary, beautiful girl, who wasn’t even eighteen, was walking into my life giving me part of her – her love – and a damn Christmas gift. A small, simple gesture that almost everybody did, but I was ready to give her my damn heart in return.
She was done sucking the stores dry at seven thirty, and I thought I was off the hook, but instead, Catherinelle decided we needed to see the Christmas decorations, and so we walked together through Time Square and then the Rockefeller Center. The joy of the holidays didn’t make its way into my heart, but I loved watching her.
Finally, she said she was hungry, and I expected her to suggest a nice restaurant, but instead, she dragged me into the first pizza joint we found. The place was tacky as hell, with the Italian flags hanging everywhere and the fake brick oven that was so obviously working on gas. It was a beat-up diner; the only thing going for it was the location, crammed between Saint Patrick’s Cathedral and a Saks store, but for sure, it wasn’t a good place to eat. The floor was covered in sand-colored tiles; the tables were a pale shade of blue, and the benches were covered in yellow nylon. It was the kind of place that kept their ketchup on the table. I had no problem eating here; most of my childhood, I ate out of trashing cans, but I never pictured Cat in a place like this.
The waitress brought us the pepperoni pizza Catherinelle asked for and left us to it.
“Cat, you’re sure you want to eat that?”
“Sure, it’s…” she looked again at the pizza and the grease pools that were forming on top of the cheese, “it looks great.”
She grabbed one of the slices and smelled it first.
“Catherinelle, let’s go. I’ll take you to that nice place in Brooklyn, the one close to your house with the pastries you like.” I tried to bribe her away from the pizza.
“No, I like it here.” That was a whole load of bull crap.
After looking at it one more time, she had the courage to bite into it and chew for a while.
“How is it, Cat?”
“The mozzarella is a little chewy.” I could bet that was the last of the problems.
“Come on, Cat, this thing has salami on it. If your grandmother knew you put that thing in your mouth and called it pizza, she would roll over in her grave. Why won’t you let me to take you somewhere nice?”
“Because ‘somewhere nice’ people know us!” She slapped her hand on the table, and the few people inside turned their heads to look at us. “The best restaurants in this city, the restaurants you want to take me to? Those are owned by my brother or friends of our family. You can’t even look at me in there, Hugo.”
She sighed, and I grabbed one of her hands over the table. This was too fucking hard. Catherinelle was talking about love, but was love supposed to be that hard?
“Cat, easy.”
“Stop talking to me like I’m a wild horse. It’s hard enough to go without you for days at a time. Just give me a few more hours.”
That was something I could give her.
“Come on, let’s go. I’m taking you home.”
I got up, and before she could say anything, I threw some money on the table and picked Cat up like she was a sack of potatoes.
“Hugo, I don’t want to go home.”
“My home.”
She stopped moving right away.
“What?”
“You’re gonna call your brother, tell him you’ll stay with Bianca tonight.” I let her body slide down until we were face to face. “I want you in my bed, Catherinelle.”
She took her sweet time to say something back.
“Let’s go, Monster. I want to see where you dwell.”
