Table of Contents
Cover Page
Copyright Page
Other Cheek titles by the author
Opposites Attract
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
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In real life, always practise safe sex.
This edition published in 2007 by
Cheek
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Copyright © Michelle M Pillow 2005
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Ethan wasn’t refined. He didn’t open car doors or automatically guide her elbow when walking. But, when she talked, she felt he really listened. When he talked, she felt he spoke the truth. And when he looked at her, he really looked. He saw her – the good, the bad, the everything. Alexis had told him things about her life that she barely admitted to her best friend and he was still there, kissing her as if her past didn’t matter. As he touched her, she felt as if he was accepting who she was, faults and all. She tried to catch her breath, but her heart was racing fast and her body was tight with longing.
Alexis refused to touch herself. She was already heated to the point of urgency and seeing her half-naked body, her dishevelled hair, was arousal enough. She wiggled her hips, finally deciding to push the bottoms off as well. There was no point in wasting time with undressing.
Other Cheek titles by the author:
Fierce Competition
Bit by the Bug
For more information about Michelle M Pillow’s books please visit www.michellepillow.com
OPPOSITES ATTRACT
An Erotic Romance
Michelle M Pillow
1
Upper East Side, Manhattan, New York City, New York.
This was a bad idea. No, it was a horrible idea. Driving cross-country from New York to San Francisco, California had to be a mistake. There really wasn’t anything in the middle of the United States worth seeing, was there? Some wheat, maybe a cow or two? Isn’t that why everyone took airplanes over it? And wasn’t there a desert thrown in there somewhere? Didn’t people die in deserts every day? Isn’t that how they got their names, because they were deserted?
Alexis Grant shivered at the idea. Seated at a sidewalk café she looked into her roommate’s expectant, hopeful face and she knew Susan wasn’t kidding. Her friend wanted to do it. She wanted to get into a car and see all America had to offer. Only problem was, they didn’t have a car. Well, Alexis had one, but it was a limo and it belonged to her mother, and she doubted the woman would let her take it cross-country.
Susan Chapel was Alexis’s best friend. They’d met in college – all right, Susan went to college, Alexis went to college parties. Still, they met on campus, hit it off and after Susan graduated with a degree in literature they moved in together. Susan went on to be a teacher at a very prestigious private school while Alexis went on to attend bigger and better parties. They’d been roommates ever since.
‘Oh, did I show you my new jeans?’ Alexis asked as a distraction, moving her plate to the side to show Susan the pair of low-riders she had on through the glass tabletop. ‘They’re Diesel, right? I usually don’t like this designer, but I just had to have them. They fit too perfect. I’m so glad I lost that extra five pounds. Talk about getting overweight.’
‘I say gain the five back, you’re skin and bones,’ Susan said, winking playfully. The woman regularly had a smile on her face and Alexis loved the fact that she always tried to say something nice about everyone – no matter who they were. Though shy in social situations, Susan was a real sweetie. That’s where Alexis’s outgoing nature came in handy. They were a perfect fit.
‘Ah, thanks, sweetie.’ Alexis smiled. She angled her hips in the chair so Susan could see her jeans from the other side. ‘They’re cute, right?’
‘They look exactly like the pair I got at the second-hand store for fifteen dollars. Please tell me you didn’t pay full price.’ Susan took a sip of coffee. ‘You so don’t need to spend a hundred dollars on one pair of jeans.’
‘A hundred and thirty-nine, and ew! These are not like second-hand.’ Alexis frowned. ‘How can you buy used clothing? How do you know the person who owned them before you wasn’t a prostitute? You might get some sexually transmitted disease just by putting them on.’
‘It’s not like I’m wearing vinyl hot pants,’ Susan grumbled. ‘And they’re clean.’
‘Ew! I’d never talk to you again if you wore hot pants.’ Alexis giggled.
‘You’re such a diva. Anyway, Lexy, would you listen? Ted knows this guy, whose cousin’s dad’s best friend has this son, who’s going to drive to California.’ Susan smiled. Alexis wondered if the idea might just go away on its own – like if she stared at Susan with a blank look on her face for long enough. ‘Anyway, the guy has room and said we could go along if we pay for part of the trip. It sounds perfect. I want to travel and you want to take pictures of stuff. This would make the perfect portfolio. I think we should do it. Every American should at least see their own country, right?’
‘Uh, no. Why would I want to see the country? Every American should see Europe, but not the icky parts, just the nice ones like Rome and Paris. If you want to see America, then just look around you at New York City. There’s a reason why we get so many tourists. People come here to see America, not the desert. Everything that’s great about our country is right here. We have Times Square, the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island.’
‘Do you even know what Ellis Island is?’ Susan asked.
‘Sure, people came over from Europe on boats and that’s where they went first.’ Alexis grinned. ‘See, my point exactly. It’s where all the tourists went to. They liked it so much that they became immigrants and just stayed.’
‘Your sense of
history is truly frightening.’ Susan shook her head.
‘Whatever.’ Alexis motioned her hand in annoyance at the comment. ‘Who cares about history? It’s so yesterday.’
Susan looked slightly shocked, for a moment not realising Alexis’s flippant joke.
‘Well, get you!’ she laughed. ‘Why did you minor in history anyway?’
‘Um, you were saying,’ Susan answered instead.
‘We have Broadway, the wonderful view from here in Manhattan of the bridge.’
‘Brooklyn Bridge,’ Susan supplied needlessly.
‘Yes, thank you. We have Yankee Stadium, Chinatown, Central Park, the Village, Empire State Building, museums and –’
‘Crime, poverty,’ Susan inserted.
‘Fifth Avenue for the best shopping. Though, did you notice that a lot of retailers are moving off of Fifth?’ Alexis shrugged. ‘Anyway, we have the best shopping.’
‘Crime and poverty. Darcy Mayors said she was almost mugged last week by gang members.’
Alexis frowned, turning her eyes down to her plate. She leaned forward and said quietly, ‘I don’t want to talk about stuff like that.’
‘Just because you don’t talk about the bad, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,’ Susan said. ‘You should try turning on the news sometimes. It might broaden your view of the world.’
‘Why? So I can become an addict like you and watch it every time I’m near a television? No thanks, sweetie. I figure you’ll just tell me what I need to know.’ Alexis leaned over and took a bite of her salad, stabbing a tomato with her fork as she looked around at the tall buildings. She loved everything about Manhattan – the smells, the look, the sound. She liked the traffic and people rude enough to mind their own business. She liked clubs that stayed open past midnight. She liked concrete and steel and buildings that didn’t house farm animals, not that she could exactly remember seeing farm animals up close. Animals belonged in the zoo, where they were safely tucked inside a cage.
‘Anyway, you live here so you know what we have. I rest my case. We’ve seen the best of America.’ Alexis took another bite. She loved the sidewalk eateries of Manhattan. When the weather was nice, like this fine spring afternoon, it was as close to heaven as she was likely to get. The breeze was a little cool, carrying with it the smells of the garden next to the Southwestern Grill, and she was so glad she wore her new black cashmere sweater. She bought it to go with the jeans. How could she not? They looked too cute together.
‘You’re telling me a cross-country trip doesn’t interest you in the least?’ Susan persisted.
Alexis rolled her eyes. She was sure pointing out how grand New York was would’ve changed Susan’s mind. Maybe she needed to take a different approach. ‘Do we even know who this guy is? Or do we just take Ted’s dad’s uncle’s cousin’s nephew’s word that he’s not a psychopathic killer or a junkie or a . . . parolee?’
‘Ted’s friend’s cousin’s dad’s best friend’s son,’ Susan corrected.
‘Thank you, schoolmistress Susan,’ Alexis drawled sarcastically.
‘Sorry, taking work home with me again. Now, I believe you were saying something about being an overly judgemental, paranoid –’
‘Oh!’ Alexis laughed, knowing Susan only teased. ‘And you are too easy-going for your own good. It wouldn’t hurt you to be more suspicious of people.’
‘My easy-goingness goes well with your many eccentricities.’ Susan winked.
‘I come from money, so I’m pretty sure that entitles me to a few eccentricities.’ Alexis laughed, as she lanced another tomato.
‘Like not being able to hold down a steady job?’ Susan took a sip of her lemon water. ‘Care to tell me what happened this morning with Mr Turner?’
‘Uh, you know, same thing.’ Alexis shrugged delicately.
‘So basically you told him you didn’t feel like getting out of bed before noon because you went to another nightclub opening to make an appearance.’
‘Yeah, basically. As if I’d really miss an invitation to Bella’s opening? That would be like committing social suicide.’ Alexis made a face, unashamed. ‘Don’t worry about it. Employment is overrated. Besides, if I had to work, we wouldn’t be sitting here enjoying this fine spring day at our favourite little sidewalk café. Which, I might add, is another wonderful thing about our city.’
‘Alexis?’ Susan asked, leaning forwards. ‘You’re avoiding, aren’t you?’
‘Avoiding what?’ Alexis took another bite of salad, angling her arm so her diamond tennis bracelet wouldn’t fall into her low-carb dressing.
‘Do you want to go to California?’ Susan sat back in her chair. ‘You’re always talking about moving there.’
‘I talk about a lot of things that I don’t really mean. Besides, honestly, why would you want to move anywhere? New York is the centre of the universe. Aliens could land and this is where they’d come to hang out.’
‘Aliens?’ Susan chuckled. ‘Your defence is that New York now might attract aliens? Does our television talk to you? Are you hearing voices in your head?’
‘Shut up, you know what I mean.’ Alexis waved her fork lightly to dismiss the alien comment. ‘Why do you want to move? We have a great apartment –’
‘In your mother’s hotel,’ Susan interjected.
‘Ah, my mother’s five-star, Upper East Side hotel,’ Alexis said. ‘We have room service. We never cook.’
‘Which your mother pays for.’
‘Maids.’
‘Your mother’s.’
‘Hey, why you getting down on my mother all of a sudden?’ Alexis asked, frowning. This worried her. She couldn’t lose Susan. She was the only person Alexis could stand being around for long periods of time. ‘Are you saying you’re unhappy?’
‘No, it’s just . . .’ Susan frowned. ‘Ted thinks that maybe it’s time we did things on our own.’
‘Oh, Ted thinks?’ Alexis dropped her fork, losing her appetite.
‘Well, your mother’s not always going to be there to support us.’
‘Oh, she doesn’t support you.’ Alexis reached to pat Susan’s hand. ‘You pay your own way, sweetie.’
‘Fine.’ Susan looked away. ‘You won’t be able to live off your mother forever.’
‘I see.’ Alexis hardened her expression. ‘I don’t think nmy life is any of Ted’s business. I can’t help it that he’s jealous. I can’t help that I was born with money. Does he think my life’s a bed of roses? It’s hard being rich. People think it’s easy because I have money, but they’re wrong. I’m always being looked at and I have it twice as bad because I’m pretty. I have to deal with jealousy all the time. In fact, just this morning, some scrubby little nobody, with that black gothic whatever make-up, was staring at me as I –’
‘No, Alexis,’ Susan tried to interrupt. ‘I –’
Alexis’s cell phone rang, cutting Susan off. Alexis held up her finger and reached down into her pink rabbit-fur handbag for her phone. Flipping it open, she said cheerfully, ‘Buon giorno.’
Alexis felt the blood rush from her face, as her mother’s butler spoke in a rush from the other end. His stiff accent made the words all the more surreal. ‘Mrs Grant . . . arrested . . . embezzlement . . . agents . . .’ She felt dizzy, sure she didn’t hear him right.
‘Wait,’ Alexis said, stopping him mid-sentence. ‘What do you mean my mother has –’ she lowered her tone, covering the mouthpiece ‘– been arrested?’
‘Alexis?’ Susan asked. ‘Lexy, what’s wrong?’
Alexis’s eyes widened. She felt as if she were drowning. Everything moved in slow motion. She blinked, looking at the waiter, who was suddenly at their table. She focused on his black vest and matching apron. The red rose on the breast pocket caught her eye and she stared at it. The waiter waved his hand in front of her face, drawing her attention back up.
‘Miss? Miss?’ She saw the waiter’s lips moving, but couldn’t hear his voice.
‘All right, I’m coming home.�
� Alexis blinked rapidly, looking around. She felt faint, like she was falling. She heard Susan scream, before everything went black.
‘Alexis?’ Susan jumped up from the table, as the waiter caught her friend. She ran to the cell phone, picking it up. ‘Hello? Who is this? What did you say?’
Susan listened, but no one was there.
‘Miss,’ the waiter said.
Looking at the man, she said, ‘Get me some water. Now!’
‘But, your cheque . . .?’
Susan ignored him, fanning Alexis’s face in worry. Someone handed her a wet napkin and she pressed it to her friend’s flushed cheeks. ‘Alexis? Honey, wake up. Wake up. What happened? Who was that?’
Alexis blinked, coming back to consciousness. Susan felt as if a weight was lifted off of her. She’d been so worried. Alexis’s mouth moved and Susan leaned down just in time to hear her whisper, ‘Call a cab. We have to get home. They’re taking everything.’
One month later . . .
The trial wasn’t even close to being over, but Alexis’s life of privilege was. Men in cheap suits raided her apartment, laying claim to everything that wasn’t tied down, treating her like she was the daughter of some Mafia kingpin. Everything was gone – the money, the servants, the hotel stocks, jewellery. Even the furniture had been seized by the government – at least the furniture that didn’t belong to the hotel.
‘Do you have any drugs in the apartment we should know about?’ they’d asked her. ‘Do you have any guns, knives, or other weaponry? Are you aware that your mother is under arrest for embezzling funds? Has she ever handed you strange packages and asked you to store them?’
What was she supposed to say to that? Alexis chuckled darkly, remembering how she’d replied. ‘Yeah, my mother gave me a square-cut diamond and not a princess cut for my thirteenth birthday. It came in a box from the wrong jeweller. That was strange. She usually got the jewellery part right.’ The agent looked like he wanted to slap her. Alexis didn’t care. Didn’t they have real criminals they could’ve been out arresting?
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