InvitingTheDevil (17 page)

“If you’re with me, maybe I can handle it.”

I’d finally broken through his barriers. It felt good. It felt right. I snuggled up to him and he spooned against my body. Suddenly he sat upright.

“What’s wrong,” I asked sleepily.

“I need to use the suction cups on your nipples,” he said. “They looked really sexy so huge and by tomorrow it will have worn off.”

“Okay.”

He placed the suction cylinders over my nipples and started pumping. While he was still pumping and I was enjoying the sensation the suction caused, I fell asleep.

* * * *

The next morning the limo that was to drive us to the photo shoot, arrived right on time. I wondered if this was going to be another two-day affair. We were starting early enough at nine in the morning.

The chauffeur drove us to a marina. From there, a small motorboat took us to a yacht moored offshore.

It was the owner of the magazine’s private yacht.
Oh, my God. I can’t believe this.
I stepped onto the deck and was greeted by the captain and a photographer who snapped pictures of me. The captain greeted Kalem and led us to the living room. I wondered if the owner was there. He wasn’t. A photo shoot crew greeted us and soon had me changing into different clothes. The makeup artist was a man, as was the hairdresser. For the first shoot, I was to wear white jeans and a blue striped halter, a sailor cap on my head. They shot pictures of me on deck, hanging onto the railing, my finger in my mouth looking pouty and standing behind the wheel. I could scarcely imagine steering a huge yacht like that.

The shoot director told me to hang on to the ropes and take my top off. I did. The cameras clicked and I knew there was a video camera taping every move I made. When I had nothing on but my panties, they had me climbing ladders and stairs and lying on the deck. Then, I was told me to let myself go. Music played while I was modeling, causing me to sway, to actually pretend I was there alone. I danced to the music, stripped my panties off and displayed my cleft. The director urged me to go inside, to enter the bedroom. I did. As I crawled around on the huge bed swaying to the music, it suddenly stopped.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“The locks need to be removed.”

“You’ll have to ask Kalem,” I replied.

Kalem came in and removed the locks. I noticed he stayed while they shot the remainder of the pictures and video. That turned me on and I performed, but really only for him. He was my man, my master, my lover, and all I wanted was to turn him on so he would want me forever.

“Break!” someone shouted.

“You were magnificent. You’ve got no idea how much I wanted you,” Kalem told me softly.

“I was performing for only you. I knew you were watching.”

“The next shoot is on the beach.”

“I know. I love it.”

“Me or the beach?”

“Both.” I smiled and kissed him.

I really loved the beach shoot held on a private beach. They had me dress in jeans and a thin top to start with and told me to use my imagination. Well, I did. I danced, I stripped, I lay in the sand in various positions and finally frolicked and danced in the waves. At the end, I lay on the wet sand and allowed the waves to roll over me. I thought about our night of love, Kalem taking my virginity and telling me he loved me, and it turned me on so I played with my clit, my nipples, and rolled through the water imagining Kalem was with me. The last shots of me were of me baring my vagina to the world as I spread my pussy lips and opened up for the cameras.

Kalem joined me as I stumbled onto the beach. “Baby, you were magnificent.”

“All because of you.”

“No. It’s all you. I merely unlocked your inhibitions.”

“Do we get to see any of the photos and videos?” I asked.

“Yes. From both magazines. They’ll send us copies.”

“Okay. Now that this is behind us, what’s next on the agenda?”

“Just normal fashion shows. Nothing exotic. I’m done with putting you on display.”

“What if I like being on display?”

“Mm, I’ll have to think about that one.”

“I have to admit, it really turns me on.”

“So you like exhibitionism, huh? My little virgin has turned into a ravenous sex kitten. Would you like a public flogging?”

“What?”

“A public flogging. Some women really go for that.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“In history, naked flogging was a punishment. Now it’s part of the BDSM world.”

“Have you ever participated in such?”

“Hell no.”

“Then why did you mention it?”

“You seem to enjoy exhibiting yourself. I’ll do anything for you if it makes you happy.”

“There is the magic word. Happy. I’ll do many things for you, too, but public flogging isn’t one of them. I can’t believe women would do this.”

“They do and apparently love it.”

“Not this girl. I’ve gone about as far as I ever want to go.”

“That’s good. But if you ever want to try something in private, just ask me.”

“Okay. I don’t know any more than what you’ve taught me. Kalem?”

“Yes, love?”

“Do you think I’m a lesbian or bisexual?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“I got horny when the other model touched me, fingered and licked me.”

“Sweetheart, I’m sure I’d get horny if a man decided to play with my cock. That doesn’t make me gay. It’s quite natural to become heated if someone, no matter who, plays with you in an erotic way.”

I didn’t tell him about the experience with Shannon. That was private, something sweet and tender that happened between two women who loved each other like sisters. And hell, it had gotten me through what could have been a horrendous night of wallowing in self-pity. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. “Let’s go for another swim before I get dressed?”

Chapter Eleven

Kalem drove in silence as we headed toward the facility housing his mother. I didn’t dare say anything. All I could do was place my hand on his leg and squeeze every now and then. I knew this had to be one of the hardest things he’d done in many years. Not just the hardest, but also the most soul-wrenching. I could hardly imagine what he was going through. My mother and her siblings finding out about my porn pictures was going to be nothing compared to this.

He pulled up before a very nice building. The grounds were immaculate and beautifully landscaped. Here and there, I saw people walking or a nurse pushing a wheelchair.

“Kalem, how long has it been since you saw your mother?”

“Not since I was a teenager.”

“What were the latest reports?”

“She’s not responding at all. She’s still a zombie.”

“I hate that word. Don’t call her that.”

“I don’t think of her as such, but she’s left this world. What else do I call her?”

“Just, Mother.”

I followed him into the building, listened to him talk to the staff then followed him to his mother’s room. We entered. The woman in the easy chair didn’t move. Kalem approached slowly and knelt in front of her. I could only see the back of her. Her hair was silver-gray and the thick braid hung down her back. She looked very small and frail.

“Mother? It’s me, Francesco.”

That surprised me. I wondered how he acquired the name Kalem. My heart bled for him when she didn’t respond.

“Mother?” Louder then.

“Mamma,” he said in desperation.

Her head moved suddenly and she seemed to look down at him. I barely heard it, but she whispered, “Giovanni?”

“Francesco, Mamma.”

His eyes filled and a tear trickled down his cheek.

“She spoke,” I said softly.

“Yes, she hasn’t spoken a word since my father died. She thinks I’m him.”

“You must look like him.”

“I think so. I don’t remember him clearly. All our personal belongings were sold. I don’t know what happened to the photos. Maybe the FBI has them. I stopped contacting them a long time ago. Maybe I’ll try again soon.”

“Giovanni,” his mother said again, her voice a whisper. She reached out to him and touched his cheek.

Kalem gathered the small woman into his arms. His tears ran unheeded down his cheeks then, escaping from beneath the closed lids. I watched him try to hold in a sob and my heart ached for him. I stood silently, not knowing what to do. He rocked his mother back and forth, his head buried in her shoulder. Her arms were around him, her small frail hands stroked his back.

He pulled back and spoke in Italian. She nodded and touched his face, then stroked his hair. She responded, her voice was still very soft, hesitant, almost as if searching for the words. I heard the word bambino. I knew it meant baby.

“She’s asking about me,” Kalem said. “She still thinks I’m my father.”

“If she’s been catatonic all these years, she won’t realize how much time has passed.”

“True, although the specialist didn’t diagnose her as catatonic. He said she just simply withdrew from life and no one has been able to pull her out of it. If only I’d gone to see her regularly, maybe I—”

“Kalem, don’t beat yourself up. You were very young when it happened. You had a tough time dealing with what you witnessed and your mother’s withdrawal.”

He nodded and continued speaking to his mother in Italian. At times, he halted, thought for a moment before continuing. He more than probably hadn’t spoken the language for years. His mother answered him several times. He looked at me. “Can you go and fetch her nurse?”

“Yes, right away. Kalem, the healing process has started. I’m so happy for you.” I hurried to the reception area and asked for Mrs. Ostarizo’s nurse. I had to wait a little while because she was busy with another resident.

“Can I help you?” A stout woman with red hair and kind gray eyes approached me. “I’m Sally, Mrs. Ostarizo’s nurse.”

“My name is Danea Fitzgerald. I’m here with Mr. Ostarizo, her son. He’d like you to go to her room. She spoke.”

“She does tend to babble a bit in Italian at times. According to the translator we brought in to see her, she doesn’t make any sense.”

“Apparently she’s making sense now.”

“Let’s go and see.”

I followed the nurse. Kalem was still on his knees, his arms around his mother, her head on his shoulder. Her cheeks were soaked from her tears. She spoke fluently in Italian, softly, but consistently, with Kalem answering her every now and then.

“I’ll be damned,” Sally said. “Mr. Ostarizo, is she making sense?”

“Yes, she is. These are the first tears she’s shed since my father’s death.”

“I’m going to get our chief of staff in here and I’ll phone her doctor.” She left the room but returned speedily accompanied by a short, bald-headed man.

“Mr. Ostarizo? We’ve only spoken on the phone. Nice to finally meet you.” He shook Kalem’s hand.

I detected a hint of sarcasm behind the greeting. I guess he was right in a way. If Kalem had visited his mother regularly or much sooner, she might have snapped out of her silence. They probably didn’t realize the trauma he’d gone through, the rejection he’d felt. I was afraid that now he’d be burdened with guilt at not having visited her regularly.

“What is she telling you, Mr. Ostarizo?”

“She wants to go home.”

“Does she realize her husband is gone? Has she accepted his death? Does she know how many years have passed?”

“Yes. That’s why she’s crying.”

“It’s a miracle, to say the least,” Nurse Sally said, smiling broadly.

Kalem spoke rapidly, his Italian more fluent then. He looked at the chief of staff. “She knows the house we had before this happened is gone. I’m taking her home. She can live with me.”

“Sir, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. The doctor—”

“We’ll wait for the doctor, but as of today, her residency here is terminated. I placed her in this facility. I can take her out.”

I smiled. At times, Kalem’s overbearing attitude put fear into many of his employees. They all knew to disobey him was playing with their jobs.

“As you wish. I still don’t think it’s wise.”

“You need to remember, she’s not sick, she doesn’t have a mental illness,” Kalem said. “Now that she’s awake, so to speak, she’ll be fine. I bet she can’t wait to get into my kitchen. She’ll probably fire my cook. My mother is a tiny woman, but she has a will of iron. Nobody messes with her, or her kitchen.”

I giggled. I imagined that tiny woman opposing Kalem. She spoke rapidly, more tears, stroked Kalem’s face and kissed him on both cheeks.

“My mother is very upset at the many years she’s missed with me.”

I still hovered in the background. This was such a private, tender moment. I almost resented the two strangers standing so close to Kalem and his mother.

“Danea, there’s a suitcase in her closet. Can you pack her clothes and toiletries?”

I nodded. “Sure.” I found the suitcase and packed the clothes. I noticed quite a few Ostarizo pieces. Kalem must have had them made especially for her. Her toiletries were of the most expensive brands. It was obvious, even if he hadn’t visited her, that he wanted her to have the very best of everything. There was a pile of unopened letters, all from Kalem. He hadn’t told me he’d written her. Rifling through the large stack, I noticed some dated back a lot of years. I also found photos, all of an older Kalem. So in a way, he had tried, and hoped the letters and photos would wake her.

I listened to Kalem’s voice continually speaking to his mother. Her responses were rapid now. Boy Italians spoke fast. I wondered if she remembered any English. “Kalem, does she remember the English language?”

“We’d only lived in the USA for two years when it happened. We spoke nothing but Italian at home and my mother shopped in the Italian sector. She didn’t learn much except thank you, hello, please and how are you.”

“Mm, I guess I’ll have to take a crash course in Italian.”

He smiled. I suddenly noticed how much softer his eyes had become. Gone was the hardness, the steely expression. He looked relaxed, he looked happy.

The chief of staff left the room followed by Sally. I was almost finished packing when a tall man entered.

“Dr. Moretti, I’m glad you could come so fast.”

“Nurse Sally said it was urgent. What’s wrong? I just saw your mother—” He stopped abruptly and listened to her chatter. He crouched beside the chair and spoke to her in Italian. “Isabella…”