Fifty Shades Of Black

Ch 3

Anthony and I were side by side brushing our teeth. He kept winking at me through the mirror, which made me laugh through a mouth of foam. I was excited to get to bed, but not for any spicy reason this time around.

Our bed is our intimate place. We have long conversations in bed, we cuddle in bed, we make decisions in bed, we make love in bed, and we read in this bed, our bed, which is new for Anthony but it's one of my personal favorite things to do.

Tonight we're leaving our half read novels on our nightstands though. Tonight I am sharing something special with Anthony. Something I've never shown to a single soul. My mother's poetry.

For as long as I can remember my mother has had this unpublished hand written poetry book that she'd always say, "One day" to. I would ask her why she hasn't tried to publish yet and she'd simply answer, "When the time is right." I would ask if she was scared and maybe postponing out of fear? She would give a soft smirk and a quiet laugh telling me, "I'd be more afraid if I didn't publish it. That would mean something went very wrong."

And something did go very wrong.

I don't want to think of the negatives. I've read and re-read this book of poetry enough times to memorize it. I read it with her when she was alive, on my own after her passing, and now...with my husband.

We slid under the cold covers and pulled the comforter up to keep us warm. His body heat will make me steamy in no time. Always does. Like wolves, mobsters run hot.

I didn't lay against him. Instead I twisted my body so we could be facing one another when I started to read. That was Anthony's specific request. That I read it to him, not to have him read over my shoulder with me like we do sometimes with other things.

Facing my hubby-boyfriend I suddenly felt a shiver up my spine but not because of the temperature. Is this nerves or exhilaration? This is as intimate as it gets when revealing myself to somebody. "I'm ready," Anthony nodded, motioning for me to start.

I blindly flipped to a page and read the first passage I found at random. The top of the page read: 'Wind'. With two passages underneath.

"The wind is to the trees what music is to the people.

A force that makes you move.

It can be felt in vibrational ecstasy,

swaying, swaying,

it is both a sensation and an experience."

And then,

"When I whispered tales of a broken heart the wind cried woe is me.

And when I shed tears to the open skies the rain fell against my cheek."

When I glanced up from the page I was almost startled at how intently Anthony was looking at me. Maybe looking 'into' me would be better described to what he's doing. Of course my sarcasm and smart ass-ism kicked in when the intensity of the moment lingered. So I said, "Are you thinking about my d**k sucking lips or are you listening to me?"

I thought he'd chuckle. I was disappointed when he didn't.

"No, I was just absorbing," he said after a second. I tipped my head tryna pick up what he was putting down. "Absorbing the words, absorbing their meaning...and the voice that read them" my smooth Rizzo with all his Rizzo charm told me. But he was being serious. He was genuinely involved in the moment with me. So I flipped a page and read again.

"I ran my fingers along the strings of a guitar I cannot play–

the sound could be beautiful if I strummed it differently.

I think I've always liked the things that are just out of reach—

because to yearn is different than to grieve."

It was the last line that gut-punched me hard enough for me to snap the poetry book shut. To yearn is certainly different than to grieve, mom got that one just right for sure. The sting below my skin isn't even for myself and what I'm grieving. I think I feel more for my mother and the grief she bore at the time of writing this.

Mom spent most of her life losing a lot of things. Losing them because of me.

"Her love for me made her lose everything" were the first dry words I forced out of my tight throat. Anthony was already sitting up higher and reaching out for me like he knew I'd wanna lean into him. I did.

"You know that's not true, right?" His deep voice made his chest rumble below my cheek.

"Lex, your mother married a Bratva king. It was the choices he made after that that forced your mother's hand. I think you are the most innocent part of the story. It's only you who views yourself as the problem...Sweetheart, you're so worth the trouble...trust me, I know first hand the lengths a person would go for you" Anthony squeezed me. He's lucky I didn't mush right into a puddle at his feet.

"Remind me to bring your mother a thank you card next time we visit" I sat up and told him with the straightest face. He didn't catch on right away which made me fight my amusement. "A thank you card for what?" He had to ask. "For making you, Rizzo. Simply for making you" I gave a rare smile. I know he likes them. He is sure to tell me so everytime he sees one.

He returned the favor with a dazzling smile of his own.

How can a man so smooth and badass, a mobster, a street fighter, a wildly handsome man look That good when he smiles. I loathe the corny phrase but I've gotta give my man his due, it's breathtaking. And because I was breathless and experiencing a rare state of wordlessness, I decided just to kiss him.

-

We were up bright and early. Brighter and earlier than I cared for, but I digress. Anthony had an idea. One I actually thought was brilliantly overdo. "I wanna teach you self defense. You've got a lot of fight in you, we just needa shape it and sharpen it" Anthony made a show of getting me into some fancy arm lock. I kicked at his shin which made him chuckle and release me.

I know how to shoot a gun, but I have to admit I don't have any hand to hand training. If I were weaponless I would be weak, and weak isn't something Lexi Rizzo is.

"Do we need a gym for this?" I asked him, but I noticed he was leading me into our living room. He pushed the coffee table aside and waved for me to join him on the area rug that helps shape the wide room. "There?" I think a mat would be easier to bust my ass on than a rug.

"What? You can f**k on a rug, but you can't fight on one?" The smart ass tested me. Fine. Rug it is.

I just went charging at him. No plan. Don't they say it's best when they're unguarded? Wrong. Anthony Rizzo is never unguarded. His reflex was so swift and quick I barely saw the motion that led me lifting way up where he could've body slammed me down hard. He didn't of course. He caught me and stopped me.

"I didn't say start" he tisked at me with that troublemaker's smirk he's perfected.

"I was going for the element of surprise" I thought I would be slick and charge again. Wrong. He grabbed me and spun me like this was a frickin waltz. I had nowhere to go from there. He had my arms bound up. I could only move my neck, so I looked up at his face. Anthony kissed the tip of my nose and released me again.

"Okay baby, come here" he stood like a stone in front of me, "Know the human body's weakest points. Eyes and nose, throat, solar plexus, groin, and knees" he demonstrated by touching each place on his own body. Distracting.

"A classic basic self defense method is honestly to kick 'em in the balls if you can. But to build off that..." Anthony stepped forward and grabbed both of my wrists. "If your attacker is holding onto you this way try to twist your arm towards their thumb and yank your hand free" Anthony showed me in slow motion and made me repeat the gesture. Then he walked behind me. I tried to turn and follow his movement but he shook his head and told me to turn back around.

I felt his strong arms wrap around me in a bear hug grab. This man has thick corded forearms and taut biceps like none other. To grab me this way could be a death sentence if he wanted it to be. I shivered when his voice sat so close to my ear when he began directing me again.

"Drop as low as you can if someone grabs you from behind, as low as you can without falling on your ass because you'll wanna run after this. Sounds too simple, but lowering your center of gravity can make it harder for someone to keep hold of you" his voice is deep and low against me. I'm a sick individual for being turned on right now.

"If you can't drop low then tuck your chin to your chest and throw your head back to hit them in the face to hopefully stun them enough for you to get away" Anthony continued, but he knows me well enough now and saw how unfocused my eyes were.

"Lex?" He arched a brow at me when he released me and turned me back to face him again. "Are you taking this seriously? It's not like we face life or death situations every day or anything...when would you ever need these skills, right?" His sarcasm was quite obvious.

I know he's right. There is a time for sexy touching and a time for ouchy touching. Right now I had to focus on the ouchy.

He stood with a proud chest in very close proximity to me. He had to bend his neck to look down on me. He's a force even without trying to be.

"I wish I had an uglier instructor, but sorry, go ahead. I'm serious now" I nodded for him to continue. He didn't look convinced but I motioned with my hand for him to go on.

"If you're being choked-" Anthony couldn't even finish before I slapped my hand over my mouth. I couldn't help myself. "Choking?! This sounds like a good time" I cracked. I watched his jaw muscle jump, which shows me a rare glimpse of when my hubby is actually very annoyed with me.

"Lex, I'm trying to give you every damn tool there is to save your life. That's not a joke to me. You're running around the city of New York chasing Bratva bosses no matter how I feel about it, so can you at least do me this? f**k, Lex!...I know your rants, you don't want a man saving you, but damnit baby, at least let me help protect you" his voice wasn't Rizzo smooth.

He was genuinely upset, which made me upset. My face sobered with his words.

He's right. I usually take these things seriously. So why am I making all this into a joke?

I guess in some ways I'm in this strange sense of denial for having had to wait this long so far to act on my anger. To put the revenge plot into motion. But that time is here and he knows it. He's worried. And I'm goofing off. I'm being defensive against my self defense. I'm being a fool.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Teach me..." our eyes met and he saw I was serious now. I'm ready to learn. So Anthony stepped forward and placed his very large hands around my neck with no added pressure. I can feel his calloused palms against my flesh.

"If you're being choked you have to act fast. Instead of bringing your hands to your neck like most people automatically do, you should focus on their thumbs. If you can use your hands almost like hooks to pry their thumbs away it'll be harder for them to continue to choke you" he nodded for me to hook his thumbs without applying actual pressure.

My stellar hubby-boyfriend spent the next hour teaching me technique after technique of self defense from every angle, using every part of my body in every way. He's good at what he does. I could see the fighter in him surface every once in a while while he trained me.

He even let me punch him to see how strong my force was.

I came out of that more injured than he did, but he corrected the way I throw fists and showed me a method that would be stronger for someone who isn't skilled in fighting. Otherwise I'd break a wrist trying to knock a dude out.

The polarity of my life is exactly this. Went to bed reading poetry and woke up kicking ass.