This summer position sort of sucks; I spend my days anguishing over meaningless work and to add to the torment, I’ve been locked in a room with Domenic all week, forcing myself to be a good girl, when all I want to do is rip off every bit of his clothing and lick every inch of his skin. I skip over the bits about Domenic and say, “Doing grunt work. They say it’s a rite of passage, but I’m not convinced.”
Michael laughs gleefully. “It is a rite of passage. Don’t expect that you won’t have to pay your dues just because you’re the boss’s kid. You know how dad operates.”
“I know all too well.”
He laughs again. “I’m guessing he gave you ‘the speech’. ‘The fact that you’re the boss’s kid only means you have to work harder than everybody else to prove that you deserve to be here’.”
I nod, feeling absolutely miserable.
Michael shakes his head sympathetically. “Dad’s a jerk,” he chuckles. “Don’t worry – you’ll be fine.”
“I guess,” I say, staring down at my hands.
My brother changes the subject. “So, I actually wanted to see you for a reason.”
I glance up at him, cocking my eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Maddie, why didn’t you tell me that the tabloids have been harassing you?”
I roll my eyes dramatically. Chase and his shenanigans are the furthest thing from my mind. “It was one story. I didn’t want to make it into a bigger deal than it is.”
“Your big brother is an entertainment lawyer. I should have been your first call.”
Ugh! Both of my brothers are so protective of Mackenzie and me – too protective. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Stop trying to downplay the situation – I know it upset you.”
“But there’s nothing I can do about it – freedom of the press, yaddy-yaddy-yadda.”
“But that picture of you – it was taken at the private gym in your building. That’s invasion of privacy.”
“Okay, so I complain that they took a picture of me on private property…next time, they’ll just take a picture of me on the street. I can’t stop them.”
My brother heaves a sigh. “I just want to protect you, Maddie. I hate when people hurt you. Especially that fuck-wad, Chase DuBois. I really don’t know why dad hired him.” We both know why our dad hired him – Chase’s dad is a real estate magnate and one of our firm’s cash cow clients. Dad wants to keep it that way.
I chuckle lightly. “I know and I love you for it…but I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay.” My mind flashes to Domenic and the subtle promises that his body has made to mine. The thumping ache I felt over Chase just a week ago has subsided to a faint hum. “I’ll be just fine.”
Michael doesn’t look convinced, but thankfully, he doesn’t press the issue any further. “If you say so.” I fight hard not to roll my eyes again. “Anyway,” he continues, “Me and Matt are meeting up at a club tonight. I think it’s called Club JUMP! You should come with us. It’ll take your mind off of stuff.”
My eyebrows scoot up. “Michael, the last thing I want to do is spend my night watching my big brothers chase skirts. Besides, I’m in the mood to curl up on my couch with a glass of wine, a good book and an oatmeal mask on my face. That’s what’s in the cards for me tonight.”
Just then, there’s an eager tap at the door. A beaming Liz sticks her head into the office. “Hey gorgeous,” she purrs batting her eyelashes at Michael, “your lunch.” She sticks a takeout container through the door. He invites her in and I take that as my cue to leave.
“Let me know if you change your mind,” he calls after me.
“I won’t change my mind,” I reassure him. “Hi Liz,” I say glancing over at her but I don’t think she’s even noticed me. Her attention is trained singularly on my brother.
As I walk by cubicle-land on my way to the elevator, I hear some of the staff singing “Happy Birthday to You” way off key. I peer over and see Ruth Salvador, beaming in the middle of it all, blowing out a candle on a small cake. I can’t help but grunt. Those goddamned summer interns and their BFF status is really pissing me off.
Chapter 17
“All the good ones are either straight or married,” Frankie quips on the heels of an exaggerated sigh. I look over to find him eyeing a gorgeous dark-haired man with his arm draped around the shoulder of an equally-attractive dark-haired woman.
“You’re not on the prowl today, are you?”
“Guilty as charged,” Frankie says with a wink before growling and swiping his fingers through the air like cat claws. “Rawrrr!”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired?” I ask rhetorically as I grab his water bottle from him and take a long swig.
“Any man who’s ever been in my bed will tell you that Frankie Gattusso never tires.”
“Yuck. Spare me the details.”
The Monday after the 4th of July is a holiday which leaves me with a day off. Domenic happens to be playing a game of rugby with a few buddies today and, for once, I am more than willing to accompany Frankie to the playing field.
I tear my attention away from Frankie just in time to see Domenic catch the ball and charge towards the goal line, dodging around the several powerfully-built players who attempt to block his way. With mere feet to go, he lunges over the line, lands on his stomach and glides across the grass.
I leap to my feet and cheer loudly. I catch the attention of the few people on the surrounding bleachers watching the game distractedly. I guess I’m a bit too enthusiastic given that this is just a friendly game of rugby among some old buddies.
Frankie eyes me with a cocked brow. “Since when are you so into rugby?” I understand where he’s coming from. Frankie’s been dragging me to Domenic’s games ever since we were teenagers. He says that these games are the perfect place to meet rugged, muscular hotties pumped up on pure adrenaline. Still, neither of us even understand the rules of the sport.
“What? I can’t just enjoy the game?” My tone is defensive.
“I’ll tell you who’s not enjoying the game,” he replies, “Me! These guys are ugly today!”
I couldn’t disagree more.
Actually, I haven’t even noticed any of the other guys. But Domenic? He’s never looked better. He’s not beefy like the other players. He’s leaner. I guess that’s why he runs so fast. His legs are strong and superbly defined. His arms and shoulders, perfectly sculpted. How come I never noticed how incredibly tight his ass is? The intensity on his face as he runs drives me to imagine the expressions he’d make while hovering over me in his bed.
Gosh – I might need a cold shower right about now.
“Let’s get out of here.” Before I can protest, Frankie has grabbed me by the wrist and is pulling me out of the bleachers. I follow him unwillingly, my eyes glued to the field. Just then, Domenic comes charging down the field, on his way to the goal line yet again. His attention is turned in my direction as he races across the grass with the ball tucked under his arm. His stride seems to slow just a bit and a short, burly guy comes out of nowhere, tackling him to the ground.
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 16th 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.
Dirty Neighbor (The Dirty Suburbs) Page 25