"You didn't complain about their music again because you wanted them to look up to you?"
"That's dumb, I know. I think it was a vanity thing; I just wasn't ready to be an 'old man' yet. Now, of course, I couldn't care less," he finished, smiling.
"How come the neighbors never complained?"
"Oh, of course that year the apartment below us was vacant." He paused and added, "Actually, once I called the police myself because my head hurt like hell. And when they showed up, they told my roommate's band there'd been an anonymous complaint, and to stop playing. I just shook my head and said 'Oh, I'm sorry, man. That sucks.' "
Dominick quirked his mouth into a self-deprecating half smile. "I can't believe I just told you that. I've never told anyone that before."
"Why?"
Her greenish eyes were doing that glimmering pupil-dilating thing again, and he lost his focus for a second. Then he said, "I wasn't exactly proud of it. It was a prick move, and it's not something I'd do today." She just smiled. Straight white teeth below shiny, full lips. God, help me.
She asked, "What time is it?"
"It's"—Dominick looked at his watch—"ten of four. Do you have to be anywhere soon?"
"No, no," Lonnie said, biting her lip, unsure why she'd even asked in the first place.
Before any kind of perceptible silence could fall, though, Dominick spoke. "Hey, I know we're probably both sort of sick from the cappuccinos, but do you want to go somewhere and get something to eat?"
"Oh, are you hungry?"
"I'm always hungry."
And I'm always eating. "Yeah, that sounds good. Let me just make sure I have enough money on me." She reached down to get her small black bag off the floor.
Dominick gently put his hand on her arm to stop her. "It's okay. I got it."
"No." Lonnie shook her head. "I want to pay. Really." She emptied out a couple of items from her bag as she rooted for her wallet.
"What's that?" Dominick asked, motioning to a small square container.
"Oh, that's just my lip balm," Lonnie said, and then added impulsively, "Kiwi-flavored." Oh, Lord, what made her say that? Why didn't she just ask him to kiss her flat-out?
"Ah..." He smiled a little wolfishly. "Interesting."
* * *
They'd just left Borders and were standing on the patio outside deciding where to go next when a clean-cut-looking man came out of nowhere and started pulling on Lonnie's bag. He tried to grab it quickly, but it was slung across her body, and there was no way to take it without pulling it over her head.
Lonnie screamed out of surprise and instinctively started fighting him, pulling the purse closer to her and trying to fend him off with her other hand It all happened too fast for her to think about what-she was doing. Or for her to register that Dominick had shoved the guy off hard. And then she heard a loud whop and the guy bolted. He'd run off without getting her bag, but he'd managed to punch Dominick.
"Christ!" Dominick yelled, and brought his hand to his forehead, which now had a bleeding gash on it. The guy must've been wearing a ring, to boot. "Are you okay?" he asked Lonnie.
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, a little out of breath. "Oh, Dominick, your head." She brought a hand up to his face, and then looked around to make sure the psycho purse snatcher was nowhere in sight. "Come on, let's go back inside, and... blot this with napkins or something." She was a novice when it came to post-mugging etiquette, but she was winging it.
"No, don't worry about it," he said.
"Dominick—"
"It doesn't even hurt," he lied.
"You're not walking around with a bleeding head wound. Now don't be ridiculous. Come on." She took his hand and pulled him with her back into Borders. He tightened his fingers around hers and didn't protest anymore. They rode the escalator to the second floor with their hands still locked, and made their way to the one-stall bathroom. Please don't smell. Please don't smell, Lonnie thought, inwardly preparing for the worst. They pushed the door open, and thank God, it smelled like pine needles and Glade.
The door shut and locked behind them, and Lonnie dropped her bag on the floor. She faced Dominick, with her back toward the sink. "Here, let me see," she said, and brought her hand up to touch his face.
Instinctively, though, he pulled back before she could make contact. "It's okay," he said, and swiped his forehead with the back of his hand carelessly. "You're making too much out of it."
"Don't touch it like that. You might infect it. Here, just turn your face." Her tone was caring but insistent, and this time when she brought up her hand, Dominick didn't resist, but let the natural warmth of her palm seep into his cheek. She kept her soft hand on his face, cupping it gently, soothing his cheek and jaw in an almost motionless caress.
Their eyes locked, and a shock ran through him, sending hot blood to his groin. He'd already felt a jolt from her hand in his and the closeness of their bodies as they rode up the escalator. Now—in this tiny, confined space—sexual awareness dulled his senses and sharpened his breath. His heart hammered even harder when he raked his eyes down Lonnie's generously curved body, and back up to her flushed, pretty face. She was just plain hot. Like before, the wind had blown her hair into untamed waves, and her cheeks and mouth were left rosy from the coldness outside. Pink and tousled, she looked like she'd just had hot sex, not a platonic stroll in the freezing cold. But then, maybe he was standing too close to her to be objective.
"Um, let me just wet a paper towel," she began quietly, "and I'll clean you up a little." Gingerly, she slid her hand off his face and grabbed one of the paper towels that were neatly stacked on top of the sink. With her other hand she turned on the faucet and then moistened the towel with ice-cold water. She turned back to face him, this time moving even closer, while she gently pressed the wet towel to the gash on his forehead.
He winced.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry this hurts a little. But let me just clean off the blood," she said, and alternated between applying pressure on the wound and feather-light swabbing near his brow.
The gash hurt like hell, but he didn't see any reason why she should know that. He went for a joking tone. "I used to work for the IRS, remember? I've taken worse hits than this."
She leaned in closer. "I know. I know. Real men don't need peroxide," she said, while Dominick tried not to notice how close she was standing, and how much heat was fusing the space between their bodies. All this heat couldn't be coming from him alone. He glanced down. Lonnie's breasts were jutting out of her open coat, almost touching his chest. She was full and round and looked pillow soft to touch. At that moment, he felt desperate to run his hands over her, to feel her, to make her nipples hard. On top of that temptation, her mouth was two inches from his, and her lips were invitingly parted. Pouty and wet and ready.
Then Lonnie pressed her body even closer, and Dominick's control was almost shot. Their stomachs were nearly grazing each other, and there was no way she could be missing his erection. He sucked in a breath and waited for a change in her expression.
But her face betrayed nothing. She was calmly patting his forehead, her eyes focused on his wound.
Was she really oblivious to what she was doing to him? He wanted to grab her ass and haul her up against him, against his throbbing cock. He wanted to rub her breasts and shove his tongue in her mouth. Granted, these weren't some of his more refined moves, but right now, he was too turned on to care. He'd been nursing a potent attraction to Lonnie since he'd run into her two months ago, and he'd finally reached the breaking point. Jesus, he was fully aroused and they hadn't even kissed.
To hell with it. He made his move. Lightly, he ran a hand around her waist and nudged her closer. And she responded. Automatically, her hand fell from his forehead to his shoulder, while the other one slid around the back of his neck. She wasn't looking at his wound anymore, but she wasn't looking into his eyes either. Her long black lashes were lowered, and the paper towel was lost somewhere.
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ssly, she leaned in, took his mouth with her own, and gave him a slow, drugging kiss. He groaned. Tightening his arm around her, he left not a hint of space between them. Her arms looped around his neck, and with their bodies firmly entwined, their mouths clung to each other.
Her lips were soft and sweet, as she gave him gentle, suctioning kisses. Then she pulled back to let their hot breaths intermingle for a minute before she kissed him again. This time, her mouth only brushed his. At first, he followed her lead, but it took all his self-control not to run a hand behind her neck and tug her down into a harder, more unrestrained kiss. She'd told him her lip balm was kiwi flavored, but that wasn't how she tasted. Not that he ate kiwi often, but he didn't need to for him to know. She tasted like plums.
Yes. She started rubbing against him. Her breasts strained against his chest; her lower stomach stroked his erection, and he got painfully harder. Just when he knew he needed all of her mouth, she ran her tongue along the inner seam of his lower lip, urging him to open up. He opened for her, and her tongue swept inside. Wet. Hot. He groaned again, licked deep into her mouth, and finally took control of the kiss.
Their hands were everywhere. She tangled her fingers in his hair, gripping him to her while he rubbed up and down her back almost roughly. She stood on tiptoe, trying to align their bodies; Dominick helped her by taking her bottom in his hands, lifting her up, bending his own knees, and pressing his groin into the crotch of her jeans.
She let out a startled gasp. Within seconds, she was grinding against him, barely choking out her encouragement. "Ah... ah." She couldn't get out any more words. Instead, their mouths devoured each other. Fists of cotton filled Lonnie's hands as she clutched the front of Dominick's shirt, trying to balance herself.
How had this gotten out of control so fast? he wondered. Then he thought, More. Blindly aroused by her thick moans, he backed them against the counter and ground into her even harder. They moved to the same pulsing rhythm, feverishly rocking their bodies against each other, pressed to the tiny counter and desperately exchanging full, wet kisses.
Eventually, though, they stopped kissing and, breathing fast, focused solely on the heat of their bodies moving hard into each other. "Ah... God... God," he muttered hoarsely, because her body was so warm and round and pliant, and the sight of her head thrown back and her eyes half closed was sending him dangerously close to the edge.
Then her head fell forward again, and she gasped into his mouth over and over—each breathy uttering making his lust more raw. He wanted her so much, he felt in pain with it, and his heart was pounding loudly in his ears. Pounding. Pounding...
Suddenly, he realized it was the door. Someone was pounding on the bathroom door. Lonnie must've realized at the same time as he did, because they both froze.
It took a few seconds for either of them to formulate an effective sentence. Lonnie spoke first. "Omi-god, someone needs to get in here." That probably shouldn't have taken as much thought as it apparently did. Both of them straightened and moved several inches apart.
"Just a minute!" Lonnie called to the faceless door pounder. She gathered up her bag, moved past Dominick to open the door, and braced herself for the inevitable embarrassment. Apparently the lead-fisted door pounder was a little old lady with tightly set white curls and a tightly set disapproving frown to match.
"Hmph!" she groused irritably when she saw that the two of them were in the one-stall bathroom together. It probably didn't help that Lonnie's face was even more flushed than before, and her lips were puffy and glistening from kissing. Not to mention Dominick's rumpled hair and the still-present bulge in his pants. Although he was hoping that without bifocals the little old lady was none the wiser about his state of arousal.
"Pardon me," Lonnie said sweetly but briskly, and she pulled Dominick by the hand out of the tiny bathroom.
The escalator ride and walk through the store to the main exit was wordless. Dominick could only assume that Lonnie felt awkward, even a little embarrassed, by what had happened. He couldn't believe it himself. He'd known he was attracted to her, but he'd had no idea it would be that passionate. All it had taken was one of her soft, gentle kisses.
He wanted more. What he'd felt of her body so far left him wanting. Lusting. Aching...
Lonnie trailed behind him through the revolving door, still shocked by what had happened. It was as if all the sexual impulses she'd kept buried for so long had come pouring out. She could feel the embarrassed heat on her cheeks.
They were outside again in cold wind that whipped their hair about ferociously. A big part of her wanted to stay, diffuse the momentary tension, and spend the rest of the evening with him. But she couldn't. Terry would be in town anytime now. He hadn't given her an exact time, and knowing him, whenever he got to Boston, he'd go right to her apartment without calling first. She really had to be getting home.
And maybe a small part of her was relieved. She didn't know what to say to Dominick; it was all such sensory overload. She felt infatuated and alarmed all at the same time. She didn't want to get hurt again, and realistically, just because he'd taken what she was so clearly offering a few moments ago, didn't mean he was looking for a lasting relationship. Sure, in theory she wasn't either. But she knew it wasn't that simple. Knowing Terry might be waiting for her only confirmed her decision. She had to leave.
"Dominick," she began, and he noticed that she'd lost the easy, light tone she'd had before. Now she seemed anxious and uncomfortable. "I, uh, I've got to get home, actually."
"But—" he started, then paused. What the hell is she talking about? he wondered, as he waited for her to explain.
"I can't explain right now," she said loudly so she could be heard over the wind. Unfortunately, her volume only made her sound more abrupt.
Dominick just stood there, looking confused. Then his face turned blank. Finally, he nodded, his expression unreadable. "Things to do?" he asked pointedly.
Lonnie blushed in spite of herself. What was her problem? Why couldn't she just tell him that a friend was in town visiting?
Because Terry was more than a friend, and she wasn't ready to get into that with Dominick.
"I... yeah, things... I'll talk to you later, okay?"
She turned and hurried up School Street, leaving Dominick standing there, watching her frantic departure. Abruptly, she turned around midscurry and called out, "Uh, I'll e-mail you. Um, bye!" With that, she bustled toward the subway. She tried not to think about the expression she'd seen on Dominick's face right before he'd disappeared out of sight. His mouth had been closed stoically, his dark eyes bored into her, and she could swear they were hooded in anger.
* * *
Lonnie walked into her apartment and threw her keys onto the wooden table that Peach had painted sunshine yellow. She did this every day, but today was the only day that the keys belted so hard against the table that they coasted savagely across it and knocked over the skinny vase in the center. In other words, she was mad as hell. At herself. Now there was a new emotion.
"Hey!" Peach called from the bathroom. "How did it go?" she asked cheerily.
Lonnie grumbled something unintelligible and threw herself facedown on her bed. Apparently, Peach wasn't taking the hint because she came out of the bathroom and repeated her question. "How did it go?"
"Go away," Lonnie mumbled plaintively, but with her face buried in her pillow, it was just immaterial muttering as far as Peach was concerned. She sat down on the bed next to Lonnie.
"What happened?" she asked, her tone neutral.
That got Lonnie's attention. So much for her attempt at high drama. She rolled over onto her side and looked at Peach. "Why don't you sound more alarmed?"
Peach said, "Because how bad can it be? After last night, it's obvious he wants you. He kept looking at you like you were made of chocolate. What could you possibly have done between then and now?"
Lonnie rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. "Oh, I don't know. I don't know." She rolled
back over to her side and propped herself up with her elbow. "I don't know what happened. One minute we're having this great day together, the next minute I'm getting mugged—"
"Whoa—mugged?"
"And the next minute we're sort of, well, grinding against the sink—"
Peach blinked her eyes hard. "Wha—?"
"And then I ran off because I thought Terry might be here, and also, I felt weird, and now I don't know how I'm going to face him again."
Peach said, "Okay, I think you'd better back up and tell me exactly what happened. And don't leave anything out. Particularly the dirty parts; they could be important." Lonnie took a breath and started over, this time giving her the full story about the psycho purse snatcher and the erotic bathroom incident, as well as her awkward, abrupt fleeing. When she was done, Peach just sighed and went back to the bathroom, which Lonnie didn't take as a great sign.
"Peach, what? Tell me."
She stuck her head out of the bathroom door. "Lon, can I be honest?" Lonnie sat up eagerly, which signaled it was okay for Peach to proceed. "You're sabotaging yourself."
Her face fell.
"I'm sorry, but it's true," Peach said firmly. "Every time things start progressing with this guy, you act like... well, you act like..."
"Say it."
"An asshole."
"Great."
"Well, what do you want? First you say you don't want to get involved because of Terry."
"Right. That's why—"
"But then you obviously forgot all about Terry when you were kissing Dominick. I'm sorry, but I don't get it."
Lonnie sighed, feeling nauseous. "Me, either. Wait. What?"
"I don't get why you're clinging to this relationship with Terry when there's a new guy on the scene. And he's local. What's the problem?"
Plum Girl (Romance) Page 8