tagInterracial LoveAngie and Gio Ch. 02

Angie and Gio Ch. 02


Stacey's wedding day was spectacular. There was a lot of last-minute running around to sort out the final details but in the end, it was one of the most amazing events I'd ever been to in my whole life. She and Alan had managed to book a beautiful wine farm just outside the city as their venue.

They'd had to pay a ridiculous amount for it but when I got there, I saw why it was worth every penny. The estate was stunningly green and it was a perfect, cloudless, sunny day. Much to Stacey's dismay, I hadn't managed to find a date to the wedding but I couldn't care less. All I could think of was that sexy, green-eyed hunk I'd seen at the prison and the way he'd looked at me. It had been such a long time since I'd felt a connection with anybody so he was difficult to forget. I wasn't one to be so interested in somebody just from looking at them but there was just something about him that got me going. It was a bit disconcerting because I knew I had more self-control than that. Something told me that she wouldn't approve of me finding a convicted felon attractive so I kept it to myself. For the time being anyway.

I was finishing up my make-up when Stacey walked in still wrapped in her robe. She had very light make-up on and her hair was done up in a classy up do, drawing attention to her beautiful eyes. Her skin was a wonderful bronze from the summer sun and even though she was obviously very nervous, she was still an absolute vision. All this and she wasn't even her wedding dress yet. I'd never been happier for my best friend. I hadn't actually seen her in her dress yet because she decided to get a new one about two weeks before the wedding. Apparently she didn't feel a 'connection' anymore with the other one.

"So, how do you feel?" I asked, leaning in for a careful hug so I wouldn't disturb her hair and make-up.

"Pretty fucking awesome," she said with a huge grin. "I'm super nervous too. I can't believe that this is finally happening, I really can't."

"Well, believe it missy because in a few minutes you're going to be Mrs Evans!"

There was a pause before we both squealed in excitement and then burst out laughing.

"Hey don't think that just because I'm so excited I've let you off the hook. I'm still mad you didn't bring anybody."

I rolled my eyes and turned away to take my dress out of its cover.

"Oh my word! Are you still on about that? Why is it such a big deal?"

"Because I know you! Protest about it and make excuses all you want, you want somebody in your life. Come on, how long have we known each other? I know you too well."

"Stacey, could you maybe not worry about my shitty love life on your wedding day? We can debate about this some more another time. Today is all about you, okay? You! So just be quiet and look pretty," I said nudging her in the shoulder.

"Yeah whatever Angie, this isn't over! Hurry up and get dressed so you can help me into my dress you sexy beast."

I was the only bridesmaid at her wedding because according to Stacey, she wasn't going to ask people she didn't really know or get along with to be her bridesmaids just for the sake of having more visually appealing pictures. I was really honoured that she chose me but I was also a bit nervous about walking down the aisle before her by myself. I wasn't looking forward to having so many eyes on me at once.

My dress was amazing though. I usually hated shopping for clothing because it made me frustrated and self-conscious. I was a big girl so finding things that fit me well and flattered my figure was close to impossible. Luckily, I was able to have my dress custom made so that it fit me like a dream. It was a striking, floor-length, royal blue gown with a bit of a train. The sleeves were long and the neck dipped a bit to show the slightest hint of cleavage. The fabric was soft and light; perfect for the summer day outside. It hugged me in all the right places and made me feel like a knock-out. Stacey's dress was a magnificent mermaid style gown that sat on her body like a second skin. She'd never been more radiant.

The ceremony was breath-taking and I had the time of my life at the reception. It didn't bother me in the slightest that I was there alone. I stayed away from the bar because I was planning on driving myself home afterwards. When the last trickle of people remained, I decided to call it a night.

I said goodbye to Stacey and Alan and left to try and find my car again. On my drive home, I had a sudden craving for McDonald's and I figured I'd just go as I was because I was too lazy to go home first and get changed. I felt a bit like a twat walking into McD's so dressed up but I wanted a greasy burger and I wasn't even ashamed about it. Maybe I'd get myself an ice-cream too because why the fuck not?


Coffee had never tasted so good. I knew that I didn't exactly have the budget to be eating out yet but I just needed to get myself a burger and coffee. Those were the two things I'd missed most when I was locked up. I went to the McDonald's at night because I wanted to avoid a huge crowd of people. I'd spent the past eight years of my life in an overcrowded cage so I think I'd earned myself some fresh air.

It was so fucking weird to be out in society again. I knew it was in my head but it felt like everybody knew I was a felon. I could feel everybody's eyes on the back of my head when I was on the bus on the way from the prison. I knew it was my own fault that I landed up there but it still sucked.

My parents wouldn't want to see me. I was a disgrace to the whole Rizzoli family. My father runs a communications company, the biggest in the country, and I'd completely fucked up his reputation when I got into trouble. They'd basically disowned me when I was arrested. My older brother and I were barely speaking even before all this shit went down so I didn't know where he was. Last I heard, he was busy running one of the tech divisions in my dad's company. He was probably abroad somewhere.

I was definitely the black sheep of the family. I don't even know what the fuck I'd been thinking, getting mixed up with people like that. I had a good life ahead of me but I had to be a stupid punk and try to prove myself to my friends. At least I still had my uncle to look out for me. He and my father never really got along because he felt like my father had been too hard on me as a child. In the weeks leading up to my release, he'd managed to get me a decent paying job at a construction site and a small apartment close to where I worked.

It wasn't much but it had everything I needed and it was a hell of a lot better than the life I'd been living in prison. He'd even managed to get me some good clothes and a bit of money to get me started. I owed him. He was the only person who'd treated me like a human being for the past few years. I needed a way to make money so that I could get back on my feet as soon as possible. After I was arrested, I hated relying on anybody for anything.

In fact, I hated people knowing I was a Rizzoli to begin with. They'd always assume I was this spoilt brat who lived off a trust fund and never did shit. I guess maybe they were a little right about that. I always thought that my dad would bail me out the way he always did when I got into trouble. Instead, he just cut off contact with me completely and didn't even make as much as a phone call for eight years. My mother called every now and again but she was always afraid my father would find out and lose his temper so her calls were always short and tense.

It tore me up inside to know that I was putting my mother through so much hell. All she ever did was love me and I threw it right back in her face. I was determined to show them and everybody else that I could be something, no matter how long it took me. I was done being some punk-ass kid with a chip on his shoulder and a grudge against the world. I'd lost my whole young adult life to prison and I wanted to get my life back on track.

I was sitting by myself at a counter facing the window outside while I drank my coffee. I saw a few cute girls walk by and check me out. That used to happen all the time. Women used to throw themselves at me all the time. I think it was mostly the money but I knew I was good-looking and I hadn't been afraid to abuse it. By the time I was sixteen I'd lost count of the number of women I'd been with. It just didn't matter much to me. All they wanted to do was fuck me and use me for my money so I returned the favour. I remember travelling with my dad sometimes and there would always be these gorgeous women wherever we went. They knew who we were and that my dad was loaded.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt like my father had cheated on my mother before with one of those women but I could never prove it. All I knew was that he hated me. Sometimes I wondered how we were even related because we were so different. Before I got arrested, I never met a girl I'd felt anything for. I had a few regular fuck buddies but other than that, I didn't really care much for women.

That was until I'd seen Angie. King, one of my block mates, used to talk about his daughter all the time but I hadn't actually seen her until just before my release. The moment she walked in, I couldn't look away. It was as if she had me under some kind of spell. I'll never forget the tightness I felt in my belly when I saw her walk in. She was dressed in a smart, dark green two-piece suit that covered a crisp white blouse and shiny black heels that drew attention to her thick legs. Angie was a bigger girl, substantially bigger than I was used to but I wasn't put off in the least.

It surprised me, considering the kind of girls I was into before but she was just a gem in my eyes. She was of medium height and her full breasts were straining against the fabric of her expensive-looking suit. Her waist synched in a bit before flaring into a wide set of the most inviting hips I'd ever seen. Angie's skin was the colour of rich, dark chocolate and her natural curly hair was arranged neatly on top of her head. Even from a distance, I could see that her lips were full and pouty, infinitely kissable. Before I could look away, she looked up and caught me staring. I couldn't break my gaze away from those big, brown eyes of hers so I smiled at her instead. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt my dick twitch in my jumpsuit when she smiled back.

I fucking hated it. Giovanni Rizzoli did not get whipped over anybody. Especially over somebody he didn't know. I saw women in the visiting room all the time and I would always stare, whether they were hot or not because seeing a woman was such a rare thing that I made the most out of every opportunity.

But now it wasn't just any woman that I thought about, it was Angie. I felt bad for thinking about King's daughter like that but shit, just the thought of her had me painfully hard. I wondered what it would be like to grab a handful of those curls, what they would feel like between my fingers, what her skin would feel like if I touched it, what her voice sounded like when she was being fucked right. I'd never had such vivid fantasies since I was a kid and a part of me hoped I'd never see her again. It would be dangerous. These feelings were new to me and I didn't know what they meant or what to do with them. All I knew was that it would be a disaster if I ever saw her again.


I was taking a bite of the best double cheese burger in the world when the lights shining above me suddenly dimmed. I looked up to see that somebody was standing in front of me. I nearly choked when I saw who it was. It was him! The mysterious, sexy prisoner I'd seen two days back was towering above me in all his six-foot-four glory with a small smile on his face. I couldn't even think. He was dressed in a worn pair of jeans, a green flannel shirt and dark brown work boots. His severely cut short hair seemed to already be growing out and he was sporting the most attractive five-o'clock shadow I'd ever seen.

I was eye-level with his crotch and the bulge I saw there made my pulse quicken. His jeans did little to hide the long, powerful thighs beneath. His tanned, muscular forearms were exposed from his sleeves being rolled up, revealing a slew of intricate tattoos covering his arms. They ran up the bit of his chest that I could see through his white wife-beater and snaked up to his neck. And that green stare, there it was again. He didn't take his eyes off mine as he sat opposite me in the booth.

My brain was working at a million miles a minute. What the hell was he doing out of prison? Did he break out? And how the fuck did he find me? Had he been following me or something? Deep in the pit of my stomach I could feel a faint bubble of panic starting to form. Was I sitting across an escaped convict? Were the police looking for him? Would I be arrested to if they found him here with me? I wanted to do something but I was completely frozen in my seat. Even though I couldn't deny the attraction I felt towards him, I was scared out of my mind.

I glanced over at the counter to make sure that the waiter was still there and could see me and I breathed a small sigh of relief as a bunch of drunken college students came in to order. The more witnesses around me, the better. My cell phone was on the table and my senses finally returned enough for me to reach for it. In the blink of an eye, his hand was on mine, pinning it to the table.

"Don't", he said quietly.

His deep voice was soft but commanding. It sent a chill down my spine but I wasn't sure if it was one of fear or something else. That's when I really got scared. I tried to pull my hand away from his grasp but he held fast, refusing to let go. My heart was beating faster and faster in my chest and I fought the urge to cry for help. He yanked me closer as he leaned across the table so that he was just a few inches from my face.

"Please, calm down," he whispered quickly, looking around to see if anybody had noticed me struggling against him.

"Calm down?" I hissed viciously, incredulous as what he'd just said. "Are you fucking kidding me? You're a felon and you're restraining me! How the hell am I supposed to calm down?"

He tried to hide it but I could tell that my words had hit a nerve and I immediately felt bad. But my fear overrode anything else I was feeling at that point.

"Really, I can explain this. Just give me a moment. Shit," he said looking past my head at something.

Before I knew it, he leaned completely in and pressed his lips to mine. I don't know what I'd been expecting but that hadn't been it. Stacey was the only person that knew that I'd never been kissed before. Well, not until that point. I don't know why, it had just never happened (like everything else in my love life) and this man's kiss was making my head spin. He was surprisingly gentle for someone who had been manhandling me a few seconds before and I felt his other hand drift behind my head to settle in my curls. His lips were full and soft and I could taste a faint hint of coffee on them.

I didn't know what I was doing so I let him lead me in a soft, chase kiss. There was a little voice in the back of my head screaming for me to stop letting a criminal I didn't know from a bar of soap make out with me in public but I couldn't stop. I didn't want to. Slowly, he backed off and I was suddenly bereft without his lips on mine. He lingered for a moment to look at me right in the eye before he bit his lip mischievously and untangled his hand from my hair. I sat in my chair, stunned at what had just happened.

"Is everything okay here?"

It was the waiter. He was a scrawny, brown-haired teenager and was looking between us with a frown on his face.

"Perfect," said the man seated opposite me, leaning back confidently in his seat. "My girlfriend just likes to make me work for it. Isn't that right honey?"

I realised he was talking to me and sobered up.

"Yeah, of course," I said, still feeling a bit dazed.

"Don't worry, we'll call you if we need anything. And I think you might want to go get yourself a mop. One of them just threw up on one of your tables," he said pointing to the group of college students.

"Fuck," the teenager mumbled under his breath before rushing away.

He immediately carried on from where he left off.

"Look, I'm sorry I had to do that. I just didn't want a scene."

I frowned. "A scene?"

"Yes, a scene. You were going to scream and call the cops on me and whatever else is going on in that pretty head of yours."

My senses came back to me in full force and my anger rose.

"Hey, screw you! You think that just because you kissed me I'm not going to -"

"I'm free," he said simply, ignoring everything I was saying.

"What?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"I said: I'm free. I was released from prison yesterday and I was in here getting some coffee when I saw you come in. I thought I'd take my chances and say hello but then you flipped out on me. So there you go. I have every right to be here. Does that answer your question? Oh," he added as an afterthought, "Since I didn't get a chance to introduce myself properly before, I guess I'll do it now. My name is Giovanni Rizzoli but you can call me Gio. I'm twenty-eight and a recently released convict. I'm sorry if I scared you, that was not my intention."

He held out his hand for me to shake and even though I was still fuming, I took it anyway. There was a part of me that wanted to feel his warm, calloused hands on mine again and I wasn't disappointed. He held on a bit longer than he needed to before letting go. I reached for my cola just so that my hands would be occupied. I wanted to tell him what my name was but instead, something completely different came out.

"What were you arrested for?" I blurted out.

"Armed robbery," he responded immediately. "Eight years."

I was surprised at the matter-of-fact way in which he told me. Was he always this confident?

"That's a long time," I said quietly.

"Yes, that is a long time. So what's your name?"

"Angela King."

"Well, Angela King, you look absolutely ravishing tonight," he said with a smile.

In spite of myself, I smiled back. God damn it, I thought to myself. I'm acting like a school kid. Swooning over a stranger who just got out of prison.

"Thank you," was all I could say.

"Listen, I really didn't mean to upset you. I honestly just wanted to say hello and to tell you to thank your dad for looking out for me while I was in there."

I looked up suddenly.

"You know my dad?" I asked, barely able to contain my curiosity.

"Yeah I do. He's a good guy. Gotten me out of a lot of shit while I was locked up."

"Why?" I replied, confused.

He shrugged his shoulders at me.

"I don't know he just did. He told me that I was a lot like him when he first got locked up and that he wasn't going to let me fuck up my life. He was really happy when you started visiting him again and I must say; you're even more beautiful than he described."

I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat at the thought of my father talking to other people about me. Our eyes met and I could see his subtly roving over my body and stopping just a hint longer at my chest. He unconsciously bit his lip and I could not for the life of me understand why it made me feel awash with arousal. I shifted again and caught him trying to inconspicuously adjust himself. Somewhere in my mind I hoped that it was because of me.

"He talks about me?"

"All the fucking time," Gio replied with a chuckle. "He never stops about how proud he is of you."

I felt a familiar pang of guilt in chest again for having cut my father out of my life for so long. At that moment I resolved to work on our relationship as best I could. We both had so much lost time to make up for and no matter how messed up things were, I had to try harder

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