Even after he felt himself empty, he tried again to go as deep as he could go. He wanted to possess her, to own her, to be one with her.
He stayed there as they panted and gasped.
Her breath was warm on his forehead. He lifted his head and took her mouth, kissing her long and hard as his body made a few final thrusts for the pleasure of the friction that only her tight pussy could give him as it milked the last drops of his seed.
Finally he pulled himself out, and they collapsed together on the couch.
After they caught their breath he climbed off her, then lifted her up and carried her to the bed. He stripped out of his clothes and helped her get naked, their eyes never leaving one another.
They lay on the bed, naked, arms and legs tangled together with her head buried into the crook of his arm. They talked into the night, stopping only to make love, order more room service, or take a bath in the sunken tub. It was only ten o’clock when exhaustion overtook them. Joan asked Antonio to set the alarm for six am, so she could get back to the Torres house in time for her morning shift. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, with smiles on their faces.
Antonio awoke, blinking his eyes in the dark of night, then breathed in the amazing smell of Joan Edwards. She was still nestled in his arms, one hand over his chest, one soft leg strewn over his upper thigh. He felt his cock twitch with desire. Then he heard a sound – a scratching sound at the door. He froze and listened hard as a knot of fear tightened inside his gut. Were the thugs back for some reason? Beside him, Joan’s body shifted and she moaned in her sleep. He had to protect her. He moved her arm off his chest and extracted his body from under her leg. He whispered into her ear, gently shaking at her shoulders. “Joan, wake up, don’t talk.”
“What? What is it?”
“Shhhhh, be quiet.” He placed two fingers against her lips, his eyes trying to convey the urgency of the situation.
Joan’s eyes went wide with fear. He whispered again, his voice low, lips close to her ear. “Go into the bathroom, lock the door and don’t come out, unless I tell you to.”
The sound came again and Joan hurried naked to the bathroom, shutting the door. Antonio heard the lock click as he threw on pants and walked quickly and quietly to the door. He had no weapon, but he moved to the side of the door and quickly turned over the metal security latch. Just in time, because at that moment the intruder picked the lock, it clicked and light came into the room as the door opened, only to stop when it hit the barrier of the metal latch.
Antonio instinctively shoved his weight against the door. Causing it to lock again.
“What the hell?” said a voice on the other side.
“Vince?”
“Yeah, it’s Vince. Let me in already!”
Antonio undid the latch and opened the door to his old friend, but didn’t let him into his room. “What the hell? What are you doing here? Why didn’t you just knock? You, little dick. Testa di cazzo!”
“I thought you were asleep, dude. I didn’t want to wake you, but, I need to borrow your bathroom. I need to take a piss.”
“No, you can’t use the head, it’s occupied.”
His gambling buddy Vince looked around the room, his eyebrows lifting as he scrutinized the scene. He sniffed the air, his eyes falling on the jeans with the panties caught inside, the bra strewn across the floor.
“Oh, sorry, dude, I didn’t know you had company.”
“Look, what do you want? Why are you here? How did you even find me?”
Vince got quiet. “Who is she, does she speak English?” Vince asked.
“Yes, she speaks English. She’s an American,” Antonio said, then wished he hadn’t. Vince was the last person he wanted involved with Joan. “What do you want? Tell, me so you can go. I’m kinda busy here.”
 
; Vince motioned towards the bathroom, then in a stage whisper loud enough for Joan or someone in the next room to hear he said. “I don’t want her to hear what I have to say.”
“Fine. Then go back downstairs, I’ll come to the lobby. Give me five minutes.”
“But, I need to use a bathroom.”
“They have a bathroom in the lobby?”
“It was being cleaned,” he whined.
“At midnight? You’re full of shit.”
“I’m not, I’m serious. Maybe not cleaned, but it was closed. Can I just use your bathroom? Please, bro, I’m about to burst one of my nuts it’s so bad.”
“Oh, for Christ sakes. Alright, give me a minute.”
Antonio shoved his friend out into the hallway, locked and latched the door, then picked up Joan’s clothing and knocked on her door. “You can come out now. Get dressed, it’s just one of my crazy friends. He needs to use the bathroom.”
“I heard,” Joan said. Antonio pulled her out of the bathroom, apologizing profusely as he shoved the clothes into her arms and encouraged her to get dressed.
“Please, don’t talk to the bastard. I’ll get rid of him after he uses the bathroom. If he wants to talk to me about something, I’ll take him to the lobby to chat. I’m so sorry about this,” he said.
“It’s okay,” Joan said. She sat patiently on the bed, curious about this friend but also a little uncomfortable being seen by a stranger after her night of passion with Antonio. She tried to act normal, and not run her tongue constantly over her sex-swollen lips, nor rub away some of the soreness between her thighs.
The man who walked into the room was a wound-up ball of a man.
“Hi, I’m Vince,” he said as he tried to walk over to Joan to introduce himself. Joan thought immediately that he sounded American, with an accent like he was a wise guy from the Bronx. Joan started to respond, but Antonio yanked him away from her.
“You said you needed to take a leak, so God damn it, do it!”