APRIL IN ROME
Chapter Five

Rated NC-17 for Content

Only small traces of the roseate color that had invaded the early morning April sky now remained. As the sun lifted itself into the breathtaking Roman heavens, the fingers of pink slowly gave way to the rays of gold. Rarely had Rome given birth to two lovers that were so well matched or so deeply in love after only one passionate night as Jack Dawson and Rose DiStefano.

That morning Rose was due to shoot her final scene at the studio and after a hurried passionate encounter and a hasty shower, Jack was left to leisurely finish his morning rituals in private. He wasn’t expected for another couple hours and was lost in contemplative thought.

For once, he was totally happy and his soul was at restful peace. Never had his life been so full of richness and he could only hope that this euphoria would last. And to keep it that way, he had to make sure there were no outside complications or interventions. His life, he knew, was full of potential obstacles. He had to protect his heart—his Rose for he harbored no doubts how he felt any longer. Jack Dawson had faced those demons and Rose had won. And he was gloriously ecstatic.

Gangs of Yesterday – Scene 98

CAMERAS—LIGHTS—ACTION ON ONE!

In the duplicated slums of New York City in a back alleyway, Cora is hanging out laundry on a rope clothesline, when a sudden deep ominous throat clearing prompts her to whip around in stark panic. She comes face to face with chilling satanic onyx eyes that slowly run down the length of Cora’s shapely figure.

Butcher: "So, this must be the lovely Cora, Valor’s latest whore! I heard you were a real looker and that’s an understatement for sure…I can see now why the Valor men gave everything they could beg, borrow, and steal to buy your indentured papers…whores do have papers, don’t they, or do they just ply their tempting wares for fun? I admit, I was stumped for a time…I mean just after one hot bed tumbling night and the pup was positively obsessed…it indeed must be heaven beneath those skirts. Pissed a lot of us chaps off since we didn’t get our fair share. But that’s the Valors for you, very stingy blokes with their womenfolk."

Cora: "Let me by, sir!" Cora vilely spits the words as if they are poison in her lovely mouth and tries to move past but instantly realizes he was far from being alone. Several foppish thugs accompanied him and were presently leering and virtually salivating all over themselves.

Butcher: "You’re not going anywhere," he menacingly snarled. "Not till we all sample some of your feminine favors. I, especially, need to know what’s so fucking special about a comely low bred Irish whore!"

The Butcher reaches out and violently rips her simple cotton dress down the front and roughly forces her head back to savagely rape her trembling mouth. Regaining her wits, Cora bites down hard on his punishing lips, causing him to roughly jerk back and viciously slap her face in a thunderous rage.

Cora: "And you’ll never know because I’d rather die first than bed you--you filthy bastard!" she scathingly scoffs and spits squarely in his murderous face.

The Butcher becomes so enraged that he slowly and intentionally chokes the life from a struggling Cora to fall pitifully to the mud drenched ground.

Butcher: "One of you give me your knife. At least let Valor believe she was repeatedly well used. Course, if anybody cares for a go at her before she turns cold then be my guest!" He evilly laughs, and strolls away totally unaffected by his horrendous deed.

"CUT! THAT’S FINALLY A WRAP EVERYBODY!"

It required numerous takes to film the exhausting scene to meet the perfecting approval of Martin Stefano. Not only was Rose’s stubborn prop dress not tearing on command, but her mouth had became excessively dry and she couldn’t spit properly. She and Daniel Lyons, her character’s murderer, were standing around after the shoot engaged in idle chitchat and joking about their outlandish bloopers.

Daniel was enthralled with Rose’s beauty and his admiring gaze reflected his growing physical attraction. His deeply masculine howl of laughter echoed throughout the makeshift set and his large hand came to lightly rest on her shoulder and back a few more times than were deemed politely appropriate. Rose didn’t seem to notice and her expectant glance began searching intently for Jack’s calming presence.

Jack had been inadvertently detained in wardrobe and make-up; therefore, he completely missed Rose’s final scene. When he finally espied the gay group, the first impression he witnessed was Lyons’ lascivious countenance devouring Rose and his grimy hand secretly stroking her graceful back! Starkly approaching his target, he heard Rose laughingly drawl, "You are a black-hearted varmint, Daniel Lyons!"

Upon seeing Jack, Rose broke out into a radiant smile but immediately noticed he wore a hard menacing mask and was casting a glare in Daniel’s direction.

"Hello, Dawson, hate you missed the shoot. If I’d known having my lip bit off, being spit upon, and tearing a woman’s dress was so much fun, I’d come out of retirement long before now," Daniel blatantly confessed.

Jack was struggling to keep his temper in check and bit the inside of this mouth to keep from throttling his fellow actor. With his hands clenched in this pant’s pockets, he simply nodded a curt greeting yet the steel grip on the building anger was apparent in his coldly challenging eyes. Rose sensed his anguish by his stoic distant demeanor and bewilderedly excused herself to change out of her costume for the evening.

Admiringly watching her retreat, Lyons loudly sighed and solicitously challenged, "She’s everything a man could ever desire in a woman, I think. You two aren’t exclusive are you, Dawson?"

"NO!" Jack harshly barked, all the while despising himself for the blatant lie he felt forced to tell.

Of course, Daniel wasn’t fooled in the least. Jack’s glowering eyes, overly harsh denial, and flagrant hostile body language spoke volumes. The boy was an idiot not to admit his true affections for the one-of-kind woman. To jab at his volatile fickle emotions, Daniel deviously asked, "Then you have no objections if I ask the lady to dinner sometimes?"

Jack didn’t even answer but abruptly turned his stiff back and purposefully stalked away. Daniel heartily chuckled at his lack of response and tipped his hat shaking his dark head.

That evening when Rose returned to the hotel, she was walking past Jack’s rooms digging in her purse for her security card when an iron arm snaked out, grabbed her wrist and yanked her inside in one swift move, penning her up against the door. Her fearful gaze interlocked with a pair of flashing blue chips of ice.

"Did that guy, Lyons, come on to you?" Jack heatedly railed.

Instantly relieved at her attacker’s identity, and somewhat warming to his flattering little jealous game, Rose demurely purred, "He did ask if I had a significant other but I told him there was someone very special."

Relieved and loudly exhaling, Jack lightly demanded, "Rose, what goes on between us has to stay between us and no one else, understand?"

Rose’s face grimly fell and her heart painfully twisted. Finally she rigidly stammered, "Of course, I wasn’t thinking. Your professional reputation and all. You’re just like my…"

"Rose!" he interrupted. "It’s not that at all, it’s just the way things have to be. There are vultures out there and I don’t want to see you hurt in any way!" he sincerely explained.

"I understand, anyway, he mustn’t have taken me at my word…he sent roses to my dressing room before I left. The card read 'Roses for a rose.' Not very original, was it?" she impishly prodded.

At that provoking revelation, Jack lost all sense of civility and savagely pulled her skirt up and thickly declared, "You’re mine, Rose—only mine and don’t you ever forget that!"

The next day was the Sabbath and Jack thoroughly surprised Rose with a two-hour drive down the southwestern coast of Italy to the ancient ruins of Pompeii where they privately toured the marvelously preserved archeological treasure. It was here that the young lovers came into touch with how precious their time was together; it could end so unexpectedly and so tragically.

Two thousand years prior, Mt. Vesuvius had suddenly erupted spewing volcanic hot ash and poisonous gases over the city. Consequently, virtually all the populace of 25,000 had violently perished in mere minutes—frozen in time for centuries underneath 10 feet of ash. The visual history chronicled the final seconds of the inhabitants’ lives. It was not just dates and facts to embrace but real human emotion that evoked true realism into their hearts.

Afterwards, in the limo heading back to Rome, a scorching red expansive sunset bid farewell to the lovers—it was as if the spirit of Mt. Vesuvius was saying its eternal good-bye.

After awhile, to lighten the mood, Jack pulled Rose into his lap murmuring sweet words in her ear. He slowly lowered her thin strap to place soft sensual kisses on her ear, neck and shoulders.

"Jack, stop." Rose playfully protested as his questing hand came under her dress. "The driver…he’ll..."

Jack never let her finish.

"Don’t tell me my bold lil’ Texas Rose actually gives a damn what anyone else thinks!"

As he gradually pushed her down into the back seat, Rose lightly pleaded, "No, Jack, I couldn’t possibly…this is impossible. No, Jack, NO!"

Much later as the car pulled to a stop at the hotel’s back entrance reserved for dignitaries, Rose flushing furiously hastily began arranging her clothes. Jack reached down and retrieved her black lacy silk underwear and stuffed them in his pocket grinning wickedly as the chauffeur opened the door.

That night after a romantic dinner for two in Jack’s suite of rooms, he poured Rose a flute of pale Chablis and their fingers touched intimately as he handed it to her. She looked down into her wineglass and saw the candlelight reflected in the light amber. Her eyebrows rose slightly questioning him on its potency. He was pleased they could communicate without words. He shook his head to assure her it was harmless enough and she sipped it delicately, letting the cool liquid stay on her tongue each time before she swallowed it. He made love to her with his hungry eyes. She blushed and he noticed her cheeks pinken.

In the next instant, the telephone rang and Jack picked up. His mother, Emma, was on the other end and began a long conversation regarding business and family matters. Rose had heard somewhere that his mother, a divorcee, was very influential and supportive of her only child’s career. She was glad for him and a little envious. All of a sudden, the disturbing thought came to Rose. "My God, my father is going to kill me!" He had always insisted she stay as far away from the entertainment community as possible and those raw, racy scenes she had done would send him over the edge. Seeking to justify her actions, she silently sighed, "Well, he did say to get a job and I didn’t go the red light district either! In a manner of speaking anyway," she inwardly worried.

As Jack was talking, he noticed the sudden look of disconcertment on Rose’s beautiful countenance. He shifted his sparkling sapphire pools to her dazzling emerald orbs. She flushed at the warm sensations that coursed through her awakening body. Knowing his mother was on the line caused her to become somewhat shy and reserved for some strange reason.

Jack’s hand went out to caress her rosy cheeks tenderly, then slid down her shoulder, back and waist. He subconsciously toyed with a lock of her silky copper hair, her ear, and stroked her cheek lightly with his fingertips, all the while continuing his conversation. What he was doing had a very unsettling, stirring effect on Rose’s senses. She breathed the air of desire and her smoldering eyes lowered to hide such naked feelings.

Trying to think of something less stimulating, she recalled the ride home that evening from Pompeii. That certainly didn’t allay her carnal desires. Rose’s cheeks warned once more at the memory of that moment wherein Jack had braced himself above her to complete their heavenly union. Reality intruded itself upon her consciousness and she realized how wickedly promiscuous she had been with Jack.

Ending his conversation and promising to call later, Rose came to realize that Jack might need some private time for business and personal matters.

"Maybe I should go now, Jack. I should visit my relatives and you have your life’s business and…"

In response his mouth came down upon hers to ravish it thoroughly. They became like two people starving with an urgent need for each other. Her dress was drawn over her head and she heard it whisper as it was banished to the floor. He picked her up, held her against his heart and carried her to his bed. She was stunned that his slightest touch could set all her senses quivering with expectant eagerness.

Once he held her naked body, his mouth was relentless in its demands. Breathlessly between kisses she begged, "Jack, please undress."

The moment he unbuttoned his shirt, her hands slid inside to trace the hard sinewy bronzed muscles, which covered his rib cage. Then his hands were at the waistband of his jeans to slide them down. Rose’s eager mouth followed his hands, raining tiny kisses on his flat belly. He was groaning hoarsely from her play and the moment he managed to rid himself of the tight jeans, she let herself go. She unleashed all the pent-up longings she had in sensual excess that carried then both to the brink of madness.

Jack didn’t want to prematurely "shame" himself, though he knew she was probably too aroused to mind, so he quickly lifted her high to stand on the bed before him. Then his mouth received the sweet pleasure as her arms went about him. She pressed his head into her body to feast wherever he desired.

Finally, neither could wait a second longer for their bodies to fuse. His hands were on her silken thighs and Rose screamed with the sensitive pleasure his fullness created inside of her. Both of them prolonged the loving endlessly building and receding until neither could bear it a second longer. Rose writhed beneath him and begged, "Jack, please, please!"

They came together as they always did but he refused to release her and withdraw. And she thanked God for it. The amazing thing about her and Jack’s making love with each other was that it was always better than the time before. Each successive mating reached a higher degree of passion with a more explosive and prolonged climax.

During the next few hours, Jack whispered such words of love, Rose felt her very bones would melt. The entire world narrowed down to their bed. The universe disappeared and nothing else mattered to them but their newfound intimacy. Jack’s mouth became unbearably tender as he kissed her cheekbones, eyelids, throat and lips. For once his mouth was so gentle, she felt tears start in her jade eyes.

"I couldn’t let you go tonight," he finally told her vehemently.

Before dawn, Rose experienced the total devastation of his possession and they fell asleep curled together, limbs entwined, bound by love.

When they awoke, Jack’s hot cheek was pressed to her breast. She stirred, luxuriating in his warmth. Then all thoughts vanished again with the impact of their hungry lovemaking, which was urgent, fierce, and frantic. When he was finished with her, she was only a heartbeat away from semi-consciousness and fell deeply asleep in his arms.

Chapter Six
Stories