Hi, everyone! Thanks for checking out this deleted bit from The Song Remains the Same! It was difficult making the decision to chop this out, because I really loved this scene, but in the end, it didn’t contribute to the core of the story.
Phil ends up taking Kenna to Italy for Christmas and New Year’s, a getaway for just the two of them, to reconnect and be who they are without their friends and family.
It’s steamy, sexy, and you will see where a few bits were re-edited into the final cut.
***PLEASE NOTE! This is UNEDITED by my editor, and grammatical mistakes and possible spelling errors may occur. Enjoy!
Life was fuckin’ awesome. I was so happy, I was constantly reminding myself it was really happening. Kenna was really my woman, I was living with my Baby Girl, engaged to my Baby Girl, and giving her the life she’d always dreamed of having.
It had gotten to the point where I was close to suggesting that we make our home more permanently in New York. Sure, it was cold as a witch’s tit, but we fuckin’ loved it there.
Kenna had a twinkle in her eye and a bounce in her step that I hadn’t realized wasn’t there before. She was happy with herself, with a career in music and writing. It was awesome to be a witness to it, watching her slowly but surely leave the medical community behind.
Kenna was great at being a doctor, but it wasn’t her passion. Music and literature were, and the more she did what she was passionate about, the more she adored life. I couldn’t believe it was possible, but the more she adored life, the more I adored her.
Taking her on a romantic Christmas getaway to Italy was a no-brainer. The past year had been a rollercoaster of highs and lows. Surviving the explosion and the loss of her clinic she had worked so fuckin’ hard for, losing seventeen people, the stress of losing her hearing, then the crap with Devon and Brigid…she deserved this.
Packing light, ’cause I planned on buying her anything and everything she wanted in Italy, our plane touched down in Rome in the early hours Wednesday morning. Taking only a carryon each, we made it out of the terminal quickly, and found our English-speaking driver with no problem.
I had booked us a decent suite with a king-sized bed. The view overlooked Minerva Square, the five-star hotel itself was close to the Pantheon, and I made sure we were near some awesome cuisine, too.
My woman wasn’t gonna lift a fuckin’ finger for nearly two weeks. This was all about her, about what she would love to do and see. With some shopping thrown in. But it was fuckin’ Italy, so maybe shopping here would be more fun for her.
We checked into the hotel at four in the morning and immediately crashed. When we woke up, we headed out for some authentic Italian pizzas—I loved real Italian food, and had been here a few times already, so I knew my way around the restaurants. Then we went sightseeing, and Kenna was about to bust out of her own skin with excitement.
I had already seen these sights in passing while on tour, never really stopping and appreciating the magnificence of it all. Kenna had told me of her love for the ancient world, and I loved her, so I found a bit of appreciation for it all, too. I was never bored with her, and I loved listening to her babble on and on about this place, that artifact, or the significance of that sculpture.
My Baby Girl was a genius of history. An off-the-chain sexy tour guide, her fuckin’ brain and everything in it had me chubbing for hours while we walked around seeing the sights and eating awesome food.
“This is just amazing!” she said, as we traipsed around the Colosseum.
Sure it was. To me, what was amazing was the look of joy on her face. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of her smile, and the way her eyes sparkled as they tried to devour everything around us.
That night we went out to a small family owned restaurant and had fresh pasta with wild mushrooms, basil, garlic, and chopped tomatoes. We cracked open a bottle of red wine and got buzzed, laughing and having an awesome time.
“Baby Girl, I wanna talk about when we wanna get married,” I told her after the second glass of vintage. It was some pretty powerful stuff.
“Okay,” she said and smiled, blushing and making my dick twitch. “When do you want to get married?”
“Yesterday,” I replied and laughed.
“I never really imagined myself getting married,” she confessed softly. She had mentioned this before, when we’d first gotten together. “So I guess it really doesn’t matter when or where.”
“Why haven’t you thought about it? I mean, you asked me to marry you…”
She shrugged, and the sight of her black cashmere sweater slipping down over her shoulder, showing off her creamy skin had my dick swelling.
“I guess…well, we sort of rushed into an engagement. I wanted to make sure it was really what we wanted. And it’s still a little hard for me to believe that I have this.” Her voice barely above a whisper, she added, “That I have you.”
My poor dick couldn’t handle much more. “Kenna,” I said softly, pitching my voice low, seeing her squirm from it. Shit, it was only fair. “You do have me, all of me. So…think of a weddin’ that you would want to have, since you are marryin’ me.”
Her smile fuckin’ stole my breath.
“How do you imagine it?” she asked me.
“I fuckin’ asked you first.”
Laughing, she took a sip of wine and said, “Yeah, but I have a feeling you’ve given it a lot more thought than I have.”
She was probably right.
“Well,” I said, taking her hand and rubbing my thumb over her wrist. “I imagine you in a beautiful white dress. I see us outside, under the open sky…afternoon or early evenin’, with your skin lookin’ awesome in that light. And your hair, too…”
“Where? What time of year? Are there tons of people, or is it more intimate?”
“You know, I always figured there’d be hundreds of people there, but when you say intimate, I think I like that idea more. Like family and close friends—the guys, obviously, and Alys and Lili and Sheri and Viv…”
“We should write up a list of people,” she said. “I was thinking…”
“The Plantation House. There’s more than enough room, and with the gazebo…”
“Yeah,” I agreed, my heart feeling warm and fuzzy, and it had nothing to do with the wine. “Yeah, I’d like that. How much time do you think it’d take to get somethin’ like that together?”
“Pfft! You’re talking to the wrong girl about that!” She laughed, and I got so high listening to the sound of it, I could’ve floated us back to the hotel.
“I guess we could do a spring wedding…” I said cautiously. “Late spring?”
“Yeah, we might be able to swing that,” she replied.
Polishing off the rest of the bottle, my Baby Girl and I strolled back to the hotel in a romantic mood. In the elevator, I couldn’t keep my hands and lips to myself, and since we were all by our lonesome, I took the liberty to grope and kiss her until she was weak-kneed and pink-cheeked.
Back in our room, I stripped her of her clothes, just adoring the way the wine made her flushed and giggly. She was too fuckin’ cute for my own damn good. When she saw the state my poor dick was in, she turned a flaming red and laughed heartily.
“What the fuck, Kenna?” I asked, pretending to be offended.
“How do you even walk with that monstrosity between your legs?” She snorted. So lady-like was my Baby Girl.
“I’m not even sure,” I replied, shoving her back on the bed and helping myself to some dessert. I fuckin’ loved the way she tasted. Musky, sweet, tangy, with a hint of honey and cream. Fuck, I loved how she dripped over my tongue, how the flavor of her spread through my taste buds, her spicy scent filling my nose and making my head buzz like a good, strong, red Italian wine…So delicate and soft, so hot and wet, and all fuckin’ mine.
“Ohhhh…” she moaned from deep in her chest, rubbing her cunt in my face and pulling on my hair. I fuckin’ loved that, too. “Ohhh, fffuuuuck!” she cried. I fuckin’ loved hearing her lose it, loved feeling how her clit would stiffen just as she was about to come. I loved feeling her throbbing against my tongue, the sweet liquid that oozed out. I wanted to drown in it; it was that good.
Spread out before me, flushed and panting, her eyes shut tight, I watched as I pushed into her, seeing her stretch wide to fuckin’ take all of me. Even I had to admit it bordered on the obscene, how fuckin’ crazy it looked. But I fuckin’ loved that, too, how we fit each other so fuckin’ perfectly.
Not in the mood to make love to her, she’d gotten me so fuckin’ riled up, I wanted to just flat-out fuck her. Grabbing her hips, I hauled her up so her ass was off the bed and I could look down on her, watching her lose her shit.
Un-fuckin’-real, how beautiful she is…
A shiver danced down my spine, tingling deep into my tailbone. Fuck me. I was so close. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight of my dick pulling out, dripping wet and shiny with her juices, and disappearing once more deep inside her hot liquid self.
“Fuck, Baby Girrrl…” I groaned. “You feel too fuckin’ good.”
“Do it hard,” she begged me.
Fuck yeah. I went for it. I pounded her sweet slice, feeling her tiny heartbeat pulse on the head of my dick, driving me insane.
“Come for me,” I demanded, closing my eyes, letting myself just feel her. At this point, if I watched her anymore, I was gonna shoot my load. “Let me feel it, Kenna. I need it.”
It wasn’t half as good if I couldn’t feel her come all over me. It was still fuckin’ mind-blowing, no doubt about that. But there was something so special, so fuckin’ off-the-chain when she squeezed every drop outta me.
Arching clear off the bed, she came hard, screaming my name, clawing the sheets like a wildcat. Pink crept from her tits to her cheeks. She squeezed on my dick, and it was as though I had no control over my body. I could see, and feel, and hear, but my dick led the fuckin’ show.
“Hooooolyyyyy fffuuuuuuck!” I screamed, my head dropping back. It was so fuckin’ powerful, my brain fritzed. I had an out-of-body experience, like I had clear floated out of my head on a warm, safe cloud. Kenna was there with me, smiling, laughing, her arms around me…
Next thing I knew, I was on top of her, crushing her beneath my massive ass. She didn’t seem to mind, though. Her arms held me close to her, her legs wrapped around my waist.
“Hey, Baby Girl,” I said, sounding sleepy as fuck.
“Hey, yourself.” She laughed.
Always laughin’. It was the best thing about her.
Christmas in Rome, and then we were off to Napoli. It was a crowded city, but my Baby Girl wanted Pompeii, and I wanted the food. Naples had some fuckin’ amazing food.
It was evening by the time we got there, and we went straight to a little pizzeria owned by boisterous family who loved what they did. We had a blast chowing on some of the world’s best pizza and drinking more red wine.
“Are you on a mission to make me fat?” Kenna asked, rubbing her belly after we’d finished. “Because if we continue on like this, you’ll have to buy me a new wardrobe to make it back home.”
Thinking about my Baby Girl packing on some pounds always made me think about knocking her sweet ass up. I wanted my baby in her so bad. As much as I thought about it, I hardly spoke of it. The times I would, I’d see the fear creeping in her eyes, and it crushed me a little.
Kenna was young—fuck, we both were. She wanted to see more of the world before she devoted herself to a family, and I got that. So to hurry it up, I decided that I would show her the fuckin’ world so she’d let me plant my fuckin’ seed in her. Italy was a good start.
Pompeii was something that Kenna had been chomping at the bit to see. The next day, we caught a tour bus early in the morning and went for an all day excursion. Kenna and I strolled down the streets of the once thriving city, and she showed me the culture behind the bodies. The frescoes really were something else.
“Look!” she cried, laughing. Pointing at one well-preserved fresco in a brothel, Kenna brought my attention to one wall that had man on it with a dick nearly the same size as his legs. “I think I found your past-life portrait, babe!”
“Oh, ha-ha,” I replied, trying to look all offended, but her laughter was contagious.
An older woman walked by us just as Kenna had said that. I busted her checking out my junk, which was currently at half-mast ’cause it was listening to Kenna’s laughter, too. Pervy old broad smirked! Glancing at the phallic fresco dude, the lady’s eyebrows nearly touched her hairline. With a pep in her step, she sauntered off while my Baby Girl snorted and wheezed.
“You think it’s funny when old desperate housewives check out my junk, huh?”
She was laughing so hard, she was in danger of pulling an Alys.
We walked around, cracking up at the sex scenes on the walls, and I had to admit, I was impressed with the amount of preservation. These were nearly two thousand years old! Kenna’s internal tour guide took over, and she described everything that she knew about each fuckin’ one.
“I wish I had met you in high school,” I told her as we made our way back to the bus. “I might have had a better GPA when I’d graduated.”
“It wouldn’t have done you much good. I was an average student, and I skipped class more than I didn’t.”
“Really? How the fuck are you so smart about all this shit, then?”
She shrugged and smiled up at me. “I like what I like. I guess you could consider it independent study.”
“You must really like me then,” I joked.
“No?” I roared, feigning outrage.
“No. I love you,” she replied. “There’s a world of difference.”
“Too fuckin’ right,” I said, grabbing her and burying my face in her neck for a quick nibble.
The following day, we rented a car and drove to Florence, where I’d rented a private Tuscany villa.
Surrounded by rolling hills and olive trees—and other types of trees, too, but I wasn’t interested in the fuckin’ foliage, so I never asked—it was an awesome getaway with no one but the owners and a few staff in the main house a short walk up the hill. There was a private pool that we decided right away to jump in after we checked in.
Small, intimate, the villa was clean, bright, with a rustic décor that charmed the pants off us. It consisted of an open living area and kitchen, a bathroom way too small to shit in, and a decent bedroom to rough up. It was pretty fuckin’ awesome.
“Will we be going into the city tonight, or…?”
“Naw, Baby Girl. They’re bringin’ us dinner at sunset—like al fresco style shit. Do you want to go into the city?”
“Not really,” she replied.
She’d decided to try on her new black bikini I’d bought her in Naples in the bathroom before letting me see it on her.
“Fuck, Kenna!” I barked at her as she came out of the bathroom wearing it.
“Yeah?” she asked, twirling her hair up in a bun on top of her head.
My dick totally tented my swim trunks, and the evil woman pointed and laughed at it.
“Fuck it,” I growled, and launched at her. Squealing like a virgin sacrifice, she tore out of the villa with her towel clutched in her hand, me panting and chasing after her like a Viking with his first fuckin’ berserker boner.
Of course, I caught her. Then I tossed her ass in the pool and jumped in after her. Being a private pool, we were able to fool around and play with each other until I couldn’t fuckin’ take it no more, and I dragged her back up to the villa and fucked her five ways ’til dinner.
And dinner? Holy fuck on a fork. The cook made this crusty bread drenched in olive oil and dried herbs, and bruschetta. Then they served beef Carpaccio, which my woman went understandably crazy for. Kenna totally mooned over the leafy greens, and the vinaigrette, and the capers, and the pecorino cheese shavings—I’d thought it was parmesan, which completely scandalized my woman. Then mushroom and spinach ravioli, finished with chocolate fudge something with fresh fruit and berries.
“Let’s move here,” I groaned, rubbing my gut and looking out over the hills in the light of the late sunset. “We’ll tell the rest of the world to fuck off and just eat until we’re too fuckin’ fat to move.”
She laughed, and goddamn it, I chubbed. “I think that that’s a brilliant idea.”
“I’m fuckin’ full of ’em, Baby Girl. And I’m bein’ fuckin’ serious, too.”
“I know. Maybe one day…”
“Would you like that?”
She nodded. “This has been the most amazing time of my life. Tuscany is by far my favorite place. But it wouldn’t matter where I was, as long as I’m with you. Wherever you are, that’s where home is.”
Shit. When she said shit like that to me, I lost another bit of my soul to her. One day I was gonna wake up, and see the world entirely through her eyes, and knowing that was the most precious feeling.
“Kenna…” I said softly, and her big green eyes looked into mine. I wanted to tell her just how much I loved her, how my life would never be complete without her, how she made the sun rise each morning in my world, and my nights were pure heaven spent in her arms. She needed to know that there was no me without her. Even more amazing was that I saw the same thing in her eyes about me.
She smiled, and poof! There went another piece of my soul.
“I love you,” she told me, and I fuckin’ felt it.
“I love you, too,” I managed to whisper back without crying like a little twat.
We spent New Year’s in the city, getting hammered and partying with the locals. We hailed a cab back to the villa at dawn and passed out until late afternoon. Lazing around and packing everything up, the next day we drove back to Rome for one last night before boarding a plane back to New York.
Just like that, our romantic Italian getaway was over. It seemed unreal to have to leave it all behind. We hadn’t wanted it to end, and when we walked into our apartment, real life came roaring back at us.
“Damn it,” she grumbled.
“I used to love this apartment, and now…I wish I was in a villa in Tuscany.”
“There’s a honeymoon to plan, too, you know. If we get married in the spring, we’ll go then…” Right, like that was real slick.
“I guess we’ll just have to get married in the spring, then,” she replied, smiling.
Well, fuck me runnin’. I guess it was pretty slick after all!