Dirty Neighbor (The Dirty Suburbs) (30 page)

Chapter 18

“Hey – Are you okay? You took a pretty bad fall yesterday,” I say as I close the conference room door behind me early the next morning.

Domenic is sitting back in his chair running a highlighter across the document he’s reading. He looks up, his bright eyes raking over my body suggestively. “I’m fine. It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“That guy – he just came out of nowhere.” I set my purse down on the conference table.

Domenic pushes up to his feet and approaches me. “My fault – I should have been paying attention…instead I was looking at you.” He runs his finger down my cheek. The carnal tug between my legs comes so sudden that I have to grab the edge of the table to balance myself.

I shuffle out of his reach. “You can’t do that – it’s dangerous.” I’m referring to the fact that his attention was on me yesterday when his head should have been in the game.

“Not more dangerous than being alone with you.” His voice is gravely and seductive as he reaches out and tugs on one of the loops at the waist of my navy blue pencil skirt. His tongue wets his lips and his eyes haze with lust.

I blush at that. “Domenic…” I take a step back.

He approaches me again and lowers his lips to my ears. “Why are you playing this game? We’re both adults. We’re both single. We both want this. It’s really, really simple.”

I look up into his face and see so much desire there for me. “I can’t fall in love with you, Domenic.” Although I’ve resolved to leave Chase behind, I can’t commit to anyone or anything right now.

Domenic lets out a raspy laugh that makes me feel incredibly naïve. “I don’t expect you to fall in love with me…I just want to feel you…from the inside…I want to see the look on your face and hear the sounds you make…I have a feeling you’d be unbelievably sexy…I want your body. That’s all I want.”

I feel my skin flash hot then cold in a fraction of a second. “Okay.” I hear myself utter the word but it feels surreal. Like someone else said it.

“Okay?” He looks as shocked as I feel.

I repeat myself, more confident this time. “Okay.”

The look of excitement on his face is unmistakable. But I need to make sure that I’m in control of this situation.

“But on my terms,” I say firmly.

He watches me with a lifted brow as I ease away from him and slip into one of the chairs at the conference table. I pull up a pad of yellow legal paper and a pen.

“Sit,” I command and he obliges with a look of intrigue on his handsome face. Curiosity has obviously gotten the best of him.

I write
Rules and Expectations
at the top of the page in bold letters.

“We’re friends, Domenic. And it’s important to me that we protect our friendship before we…”

“Fuck?” he offers.

I frown at his choice of words. “Rule number one – no crass language in my bed.” Domenic chuckles sarcastically as I scribble that onto the sheet of paper. “Rule number two – Condoms are mandatory. Always.” Domenic nods in agreement. “Rule number three – No bondage or spanking or any of that freaky stuff.” I scribble that on to the page. “Rule number four – our friendship is more important than the sex. If that’s ever at risk, then we drop this whole thing immediately.” Domenic nods emphatically and pulls the notepad towards himself.

He grabs a pen and draws a line through rule number one.

“Hey! What are you doing?” I protest. I do swear in everyday life, but swearing in bed makes me feel dirty and cheap.

Domenic leans across the table and presses his index finger to my lips. “You don’t just dictate the rules to me – this is a negotiation. The dirty language stays – it’s part of the experience.” He throws a wink at me then jots something down on the paper. “Rule number five – we reciprocate. Everything I do to your body, I expect you to do the equivalent to mine.” My eyebrow inches up skeptically. “Rule number six – toys. We get lots and lots of toys.”

“Nope. No no no.” I grab the pen and strike that rule out. He frowns at me. “Negotiation. Remember?” I remind him.

At that, he shrugs and returns his attention to the paper. “Rule seven – this is all just for fun. No exclusivity, no commitment, no falling in love. We both get to date or sleep with whoever we want to.”

I nod. “With condoms, of course.”

He nods as well. “And no sleepovers. When the sex is over, we go our separate ways.”

“Okay,” I say as he jots down the last of the rules.

He reads them all back to me and I give him a nod of approval. He looks pleased.

“Sign,” I say commandingly.

“Is this contract binding in the state of New York?” He jokes as he inks his initials at the bottom of the page and slides the notepad over to me.

“It’s binding in my bed.” I sign as well.

“Oh, I’d love to bind you in your bed.”

“See rule number three. No bondage.”

He rubs his palms together eagerly. “So, let’s get started!”

I push his shoulder playfully. “Not now, silly.”

He looks disappointed. “Okay, so when?”

I tap the pen against my chin as I contemplate the answer. “On Friday night – after the ToneWave mixer?”

Domenic sighs, frustrated. “So, I have to wait another three days before we…”

“Have sex,” I offer. “Yes, we’ll wait till Friday.”

“Okay, we have a deal,” he says reluctantly as he circles the table. He stretches his hand out to me and I place mine against his. I feel a surge of current run through me. Wow. We’re actually gonna do this. Me and Domenic.

He shakes my hand softly before pulling my body to his. His lips sink in to mine and I accept his eager tongue. He growls softly against my lips. “I’ll be counting the seconds until Friday.”

Chapter 19

When I show up at my apartment building after just after 9:00 that night, Chase is sitting on the deep brown leather couch in the lobby, white calla lilies in hand, waiting for me.

I take quick steps across the marble floor, with a heavy accordion folder tucked under my arm but am unable to make it to the elevator before he catches up to me.

“Madison,” he calls after me.

I stop and spin around to face him, royally pissed that he’s here. “What? What is it Chase?”

He gestures impatiently at the doorman to come and help me with my load. I roll my eyes at him while the old man takes the folder from me and heads over to the bank of elevators. “So gallant of you to call help for me. I wouldn’t want you to chip a nail,” I mock him mirthlessly.

He adjusts his paisley-print ascot tie before smoothing over the sleeves of his perfectly-tailored blue-grey sport coat. “Assisting you to your apartment is part of
his
job,” Chase says condescendingly as he motions to the doorman.

I turn to face him dead-on. “And what’s
your
job, Chase?” I spit bitterly. “Driving me crazy? Embarrassing me? Making me feel insecure?”

When I hear the elevator chime, I look over to find the uncomfortable doorman pressing the button impatiently, waiting for us to enter the lift.

I leave Chase where he’s standing and walk towards the elevator. He’s quick on my heels. “What’s gotten in to you, Madison?”

The doorman stands clumsily in the corner pretending not to listen to our conversation as the lift makes its way to the 16
th
floor.

“I’m bored of your bullshit…and I’m done with it.”

Chase chuckles pompously. “You sound like you’re breaking up with me. Too bad we were never together.”

“Yes – Too bad.” My tone reeks of sarcasm.

“This is why I stay away from relationships…I’ve never even asked you to be my girlfriend, yet you act like you’re my
wife
.”

The lift stops and the doors open. The doorman steps out and I follow him to my apartment. When we reach the door, I turn to sear Chase with my words one last time for the evening. “Chase – I’m really sorry that I’ve burdened you with my feelings and emotions and expectations over the past five – is it five or six? – years. As of today, my feelings are no longer your responsibility so don’t bother your pretty little head. Okay?” I turn to the doorman and he eases my accordion folder into my arms. “Thank you so much for your help, Timothy.” He nods at me as I slip my hand into my purse to retrieve a tip for him. Chase beats me to the punch, shoving a $20 bill in the doorman’s direction. I smile at Timothy before glaring at Chase. “This gentleman will be accompanying you downstairs, Timothy, unless he’d rather wait for the police to arrive.”

“C’mon, pretty girl.” Chase sounds a touch desperate. “Let me come inside.”

“Don’t bother me again, Chase,” I say as I step over the threshold into my apartment and slam the door in his face.

Chapter 20

“I think the U.N. should take a tougher stance on this. I think the Security Council should intervene and get troops on the ground right now,” rasps a tall, androgynous woman with broad shoulders and thick, red hair shaped into an awful bowl cut.

“Brenda – we’re talking about independent nations here. We can’t just send in troops every time they implement a policy that we wouldn’t implement in our own country. It’s about sovereignty.
Sovereignty
– look it up,” says a short, balding man with wire-framed glasses. He brings his glass of brandy to his thin lips and takes a hearty swig waiting for Brenda’s retort.

A pudgy blonde in a low cut red blouse pipes in. “It’s called human rights. Look
that
up, Steve. As Americans, it’s our responsibility to stick up for the weak and voiceless in the developing world.” She sticks yet another crostini appetizer into her mouth.

Steve turns to me. “Well – we have a lawyer in our midst, so what do you think, Madison?”

I grip my goblet of zinfandel and cringe. Right now, I have no idea what these people are talking about. My attention has been drifting over to Domenic all evening, each time I didn’t make a painfully-conscious effort to focus on the group in front of me. He and I have been exchanging smoldering glances all night and all I can think of is the fact that, as soon as we can break away from this god-awful cocktail party, I’m dragging him back to my apartment and into my bed. But right now, I have to try and formulate a coherent answer for the dull corporate executives that I’m standing with. I hate hate hate corporate mixers. Whoever invented them should be banished to Antartica.

“Well…”

Before I can get a thought out, Steve pulls the conversation back in his direction. “Human rights? The West hides behind human rights every time we try to justify an unjustifiable invasion into a sovereign nation. Do you need me to give examples?”

I decide that this is as good a moment as any to quietly excuse myself and slip away from the crowd.

I duck out of the room that ToneWave has reserved for this mixer at a chic Tribeca piano bar and into the nearest ladies room.  I wash and dry my hands before patting my cheeks with a clean hand towel. I study my reflection approvingly. My pale pink shift dress fits snugly showcasing my slight curves. My pearl earrings seem to emphasize the almond shape of my dark brown eyes. My hair is twisted into an elegant chignon secured by a single elastic at the nape of my neck. My nude colored heels and clutch round out the outfit.

I feel pretty. I put in the extra effort tonight to make sure that I’d look beautiful…desirable…for Domenic. 

I want to make sure that he wants me as much as I want him.

Just before I walk out of the washroom, I take my warm pink lipstick from my clutch and swipe a light layer across my lips. I blot out a small smudge in my eye makeup and smooth my hair back with my palms.

I emerge into the hallway and find Domenic waiting for me, one shoulder propped casually against the wall with his right leg crossed in front of his left as he swipes across the screen of his phone. He looks up at me as I approach him, one side of his mouth lifting devilishly.

What a delicious grin.

I want to lean over and lick it clean off of his face.

He shoves his phone into the pocket of his pinstriped slacks. “Ready to leave?” he asks in a tone ripe with sensuality.

I nod at him, suddenly feeling nervous and self-conscious.

“Then, let’s go.” He graciously stretches a hand out in my direction. I place my palm in his and he leads me towards the exit.