Read Pearls for Jimmy Online

Authors: Maureen Gill

Tags: #love, #Chicago, #sex, #Romance, #Greektown, #Passion, #Erotica

Pearls for Jimmy (3 page)

I had to admit he was losing me.

“I wish I could tell you in Greek.” He sounded exasperated. “I speak my heart better in Greek.”

I understood Jimmy first thought in Greek and then translated his thoughts into English. I admired him for that since I’m a person who barely survived high school French and sometimes I don’t do so well in English, my native language.

I’m always impressed with anyone who speaks a second language and I understood that he wanted to express something very important and was afraid he’d be misunderstood. I encouraged him to take his time. It didn’t have to be perfect.

“I demanded you stay for your own safety but I do not know why…” he started to say and then stopped.

Several seconds later he pressed on, “No, that’s wrong,
Ekaterini
, I do know why, I know exactly why but it makes no sense because old fears will not make more bad things happen. It is just superstitious, do you understand?”

I didn’t have a clue what he was trying to tell me.

“Do you know the expression ‘lightning doesn’t strike twice’?” he asked.

Of course I did.

He sighed and held me tighter. “I thought about that expression many times tonight as I looked at you in my restaurant. You hit me like lightning,
Ekaterini
. It’s been a very long time since any woman hit me like lightning…”

He hesitated and added, “sexually… I mean sexual lightning.”

I knew exactly what he meant.

He continued, “The storm came and I understood many other meanings. Lightning can strike many ways.”

I told him I understood, but I really didn’t.


Ekaterini,
it is OK if you do not want me… you know, want me as a man.” His voice was incredibly sad and full of longing.

“I demanded you stay because I knew, and I do not know how I knew, I cannot explain how I knew, that you must not go into this terrible storm tonight. Now I think maybe I was confused. Do you understand?”

I finally admitted I didn’t understand.

“You were meant to stay with me tonight, but maybe you were not meant to be in my arms tonight,” he said. “Do you understand? Maybe the lightning between us was to get my attention, to get your attention, to keep you from being in the real lightning but not to put you in my arms.”

“Do you really believe that?” I asked.

“No, probably not.”

“Why can’t it be both? Why can’t I be safe from the lightning outside and enjoy the lightning between us too?”

“Yes, I suppose it could be both. Yes.”

“Well, then, let me ask this: Do you want me in your arms tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Then listen to me, Jimmy: I most certainly want to be in your arms tonight. I definitely want you as a woman wants a man. Do
you
understand?”

~ ~ ~

Jimmy took my hand and walked me into his bedroom. He disrobed me slowly and gently in the soft glow of a dozen flickering candles. I stood mesmerized as he carefully unzipped my dress and let it fall to my ankles. He steadied me as I stepped out of my dress and kicked off my heels. He studied me in my bra, panties and thigh high nylons; he twirled me around like a dancer and then pulled me into himself and kissed me passionately. He nibbled my lips teasingly and placed kisses on my chin, over my neck and across my shoulders. His powerful hands fondled my rump and pressed me tightly into him.

He removed my bra by sliding each strap sensually over my shoulders and his lips followed the straps as they slid down my arms. When he finally liberated me from my bra he cupped my breasts in his hands and playfully juggled my pearls between them. The pearls shimmered in the candle light and picked up the rosy glow of my flushed flesh.

I watched fascinated as he held my pearls between his teeth and tossed them over my shoulder. It was exactly as I had imagined.

Exactly as I had imagined.

He looked up at me, eyes twinkling, and whispered, “I like pearls very much. Naked ladies wearing only pearls are most sexy. How did you know,
Ekaterini,
to wear pearls tonight?”

Jimmy lavished his love on each of my breasts, stopping once to look into my eyes and ask “Does this please you? Do you like me to suck your breasts?”

I whispered a throaty “Oh God yes” and wove my fingers through his thick hair. I kissed him back with my own aggressive kisses and plunged my tongue deep into his mouth and ran my hands all over his body.

I crawled up his body like a cat in heat; I clung to him in frustration as his hands followed the contours of my body and explored every inch of me.

“Jimmy, please take me to bed.”

He scooped me up and gently placed me on his bed. His hands caressed each nylon covered leg, stroking me from foot to thigh. He slowly peeled off my nylon stockings and rubbed his face in the curve of my feet and sucked my toes. He bent over and walked his tongue over my thighs all the way to my lace panty, which he pulled off with his teeth.

Jimmy did things to me I only imagined possible. No other man had ever so completely savored every part of me. He kissed and nibbled and sucked; the stubble of his beard rubbed against me in a way that absolutely took my breath away. I’ve never had such orgasms; they rolled over me in pounding waves and lifted me up with powerful contractions. When he inserted his fingers into me his eyes popped at what he felt. “You are so strong!” he said in wonder as my body pumped his powerful hand.

I held his head and we stared into each other’s soul and then he inserted himself in me and our eyes popped in ecstasy as my body clamped around him and held him tight. I slowly began to massage him rhythmically toward his own explosion. He closed his eyes and threw back his head and I knew he was ready but I commanded, “Jimmy, open your eyes! LOOK AT ME!”

I wanted us to look into each other’s eyes because I wanted us to always remember what we saw the very first time we came together.

Jimmy pounded himself into me until we both gasped and he exploded inside me. He filled me with such intense heat it caused me to have another series of powerful contractions and Jimmy rode them with me and whispered “Good! Ekaterini good!”

Our eyes were wide open.

~ ~ ~

The power was on when we woke many hours later but it wasn’t needed to see each other because a bright sunlight streamed through the bedroom windows. We looked into each other’s eyes and studied each other’s face. It was the first time we’d seen each other in natural light.

He was far more handsome than I had thought. I picked at the flecks of gray that sprouted up in his morning beard; they matched the subtle gray that wove through his black hair. He buried his scruffy stubbly face into my neck and I protested vehemently; in retaliation I pulled out a few gray chest hairs. He slapped my hand gently and growled, “Ouch! That is a very bad way to treat your lover!”

I wondered how I looked after such a long and astonishing night of lovemaking but apparently fared well because after staring at me for a few minutes he kissed my nose and said “
Ekaterini
, you are truly an exquisite woman.”

~ ~ ~

Jimmy saved my life in several ways that strange, dangerous night in his Chicago restaurant.

He saved me figuratively. He made me a full woman; not just a fuck partner but a real lover. I think it’s a miracle because before I met Jimmy I’d given up hope of ever loving a man again. I had especially given up all expectation of being loved in return.

Jimmy also saved me literally by refusing to let me leave the restaurant in that treacherous storm. It’s fairly certain I would have been killed when the deadliest tornado to ever tear through northern Illinois totally destroyed my house, shattering it into matchsticks and dumping almost everything I owned somewhere in Wisconsin.

It was a Category 5 tornado and totally leveled my neighborhood, killing seven of my neighbors. It slammed into my home at 3:00 o’clock in the morning, just about the time Jimmy had me clutching the sheets and screaming with delight. Curiously, one of the surviving witnesses to the storm told a reporter that she saw a gigantic bolt of lightning hit my house about 5 minutes before the twister finished it off. Recovered pieces of one wall confirmed the lightning strike.

The loss of my lovely home, the destruction of my neighborhood and, above all, the tragic loss of life shattered me but it was even more devastating to Jimmy.

Upon hearing the news he crossed himself, fell to his knees, and cried out to St. Catherine of Alexandria, giving her thanks for sparing me. Then he pulled me to the floor next to him and buried his head in my breasts and cried. I rocked him like a baby for several hours.

Honestly? He wasn’t quite himself for at least a week.

It was Jimmy’s sister who told me about Sophia.

Sophia was killed in a car accident while driving home in a severe thunderstorm – exactly thirty years to the day that Jimmy and I met. Sweet Sophia had been in America less than three weeks; she and Jimmy had been married only two months.

His sister told me Jimmy lived without finding true love for three decades. In all those years he never met what she called “the right woman” (her words) until he met me.

Jimmy’s never discussed Sophia’s death with me and I respect that boundary. I know he keeps one picture of her in his wallet but I’m not jealous. I love him all the more for his ability to love so deeply. I’ve never doubted his love for me; he’s a man capable of great and lasting love.

Jimmy renamed our restaurant
Ekaterini’s
shortly after we returned from our honeymoon. We toured the Greek Islands for ten days and spent five days with thousands of Jimmy’s relatives in Athens. I thought the Irish were bad when it comes to cousins but believe me the Greeks are worse. All Greeks are truly related to all other Greeks. I swear it’s true.

For the record, I want to say my husband, lover, and best friend is the least controlling, most gentle man I know. There is nothing he’d deny me and he’s never once said he would
“not allow
” me to do anything; he’s never repeated those strange words that he spoke so emphatically the night of the storm – the night lightning changed everything.

Like all successful couples we have our rules: I’ve promised I’ll never willingly drive in bad weather and he’s promised to replace every strand of pearls he breaks, which he has to do rather frequently.

Eet ees nize.

Tonight we’re celebrating our 10
th
wedding anniversary. Jimmy closed
Ekaterini’s
so that we can host a private dinner party with 700 of our closest relatives and friends. Of course, four of our guests are Doreen, Sue, Gail and Therese. Jimmy adores them; they are his honorary sisters-in-law.

And as you might imagine, I intend to wear pearls.

What more can I say except
Opaah!

Author’s Note:

Opa! --
written here as
Opaah!
to stress the phonetic emphasis on the “aah!” – is a Greek exclamatory expression that can be used in many ways. A Greek friend in Chicago explained it this way:

“At the beginning of any Greek celebration it means ‘bring out the foul-smelling wormwood liquor!’ A few hours later it starts to mean ‘let’s break all the dishes!’ In the morning it means ‘oh sheet, who’s gonna’ clean up all these damn broken dishes?’”

Opaah!
will forever remind me of Greek restaurants in my hometown Chicago where delighted cries of
“Opaah!”
are shouted tableside by diners whenever a waiter ignites a thick slice of alcohol-soaked Saganaki cheese – turning an otherwise ordinary cheese into a sizzling flambé of truly Olympian wonder.

Opaah!

About the Author

Maureen Gill is a native Chicagoan whose fresh style of writing has been compared to a gale wind off Lake Michigan – powerful, exhilarating, and nothing to be taken lightly. Maureen is a versatile writer who likes to explore different writing styles and genre.
Pearls for Jimmy
,
Fondue, Enchiladas & Love… Chicago Style
and
Chain Reaction
are her first adult romance short stories about the reawakening of great sexual passion in people who have given up all hope of finding love. Her novel
January Moon
is a fast-paced, suspense-filled crime novel that also mirrors themes of love and renewal. When she’s not working on her second and third novels,
March Storm
and
Wingman
, or writing more short stories, she is probably thinking about writing more novels and short stories. Follow Maureen on
Facebook
and
Twitter
or feel free to email her at
[email protected]
. She’d love to hear from you!

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