Cartwright Moretti Stevenson has a long history of supporting the arts in New York City so it was pretty easy to pull some strings and get tickets for the summer interns and some of the junior associates to attend tonight’s showing of Jersey Boys.
It was important for me that we be on time. That’s why I coordinated with Pam Shenk, the firm’s human resources director, to arrange an early dinner for all of us at 5:30 at a nearby piano bar. Despite my efforts, Amber Roberts, Nadia Chester and Hailey Lundeen come sauntering up to the theatre, looking lost and unkempt, at nine minutes to 8:00.
I march up to them and shove their tickets at them. “You’re late!” I hiss.
Amber takes the tickets from me with a stupid look on her face and doesn’t even bother to say ‘Thanks’.
But that’s not relevant right now. All I want is to see my best friend on the big stage, dancing under the spotlight like he’s always dreamed of.
Domenic squeezes my thigh excitedly as the theatre lights dim right before the start of the first act. Although I’ve felt his touch a million times over the past few weeks, it still sends shivers through me. “This is it!” he whispers to me. I smile excitedly.
The show is wonderful. Fantastic. Frankie’s only in one scene, tucked away in the shadows during the performance of Oh What a Night. But he put his everything into it. And I’m so proud of him.
After the show, the other associates say their goodnights and go home, but Domenic and I stay around to wait for Frankie. He changes quickly and meets us out in the lobby. He’s excited, buzzing with energy. We congratulate him and I give him a hug and a big wet kiss. He says that he’s going out to party with some of his cast mates and we wish him goodnight. He frowns briefly when he sees Domenic reach to hold my hand, but the frown is quickly replaced by a giddy smile when one of his cast mates playfully jumps on his back and tells him to hurry up or else they’ll leave him behind. Frankie waves goodbye to us and disappears down the hall with his jubilant cast mates.
Domenic and I are left standing in the lobby. “You coming to my place?” I ask expectantly as I turn to face him.
He fingers the string of pearls hanging from my neck. “Of course.” He smiles at me. “Stay here by the door. It’s chilly outside – I’ll go hail us a cab.” He slips out the front door.
Moments later, I feel a hand circle my waist possessively. “Hey, pretty girl. What do I have to do to get some of your attention tonight?”
I step out of Chase’s embrace so fast that I almost stumble in my heels. I turn to face him. “Please don’t touch me.”
“C’mon. Are you still mad about that silly tabloid story?” He runs his finger along my bottom lip and I quiver, repulsed by his touch.
“Actually, I’m not.” I take a step away from him.
“Perfect, then. So, now that that’s settled, we can continue this party at my place…or at your place, if you prefer.”
“Neither…” I chuckle at the perplexed look on his face. “You thought I’d be waiting for you…Always…But, I don’t want you anymore, Chase. I don’t think about you.”
“Why are you playing this game, Madison?” Frustration mars his otherwise flawless features. “Come home with me tonight.”
Just then, Domenic comes up behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know he’s there. I smell his musky cologne. I feel the intuitive pull of my body towards his. “Actually, Maddie and I are splitting a cab tonight.” His voice is firm and steady. I feel myself inch closer to him.
Domenic places his hand on my shoulder possessively, guiding me out to the curb where the taxi is waiting.
“I’m getting sick of you interfering, Domenic,” Chase growls after us.
He glances back. “Good night, Chase.”
Chapter 24
“Your pussy is so perfect,” he purrs into my flesh. An erotic hum escapes my body in response.
We had hardly been able to keep our hands off of each other in the cab. Kissing. Touching. Moaning. The uneasy cab driver managed to get us to my apartment in record time. I think he was scared that if he didn’t get us to our destination quickly enough, he’d end up with an x-rated situation in his backseat…he’s probably right.
And the moment we step through the door, Domenic picks me up caveman-style and brings me to my bed. One tug on the sash of my midnight blue wrap dress is all it takes to get me completely naked. And Domenic is very, very delighted.
He sinks to his knees as I sit on the edge of the bed and he flicks his tongue across my sensitive clit.
When I choke out his name in a husky, carnal cry, he looks up at me and his sexy lips curve into a devious smile before plunging back between my legs. “Do-men-ic!” I cry his name over and over, so breathless as he devours my inhibitions, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of my sanity. I wrap my legs around his neck and my four-inch stiletto heels dig into his back. I push my fingers through his hair, both to revel in its softness and to make sure that his tongue never leaves my desperate flesh.
I shut my eyes in the darkness as he pushes two fingers into me, massaging my rippling channel.
Then, he sucks on my clit.
Hard.
A startlingly forceful orgasm seizes me and my eyes shoot open.
“Chase!” I pant, breathless.
Domenic’s head snaps up from between my thighs. He shoots daggers in my direction. “What did you just call me?”
“Chase!” I repeat, my chest heaving. I scramble to pull the blankets over my body. My index finger shoots up, pointing in the direction of my bedroom door.
Domenic’s confused gaze follows mine. He falls back onto his bare ass when he sees Chase, standing in my doorway with a mix of shock and hurt and rage smeared across his face.
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A shriek, loud and shrill, escapes my lips as Domenic’s fist pierces through the wall next to my vanity table.
He’s fuming.
Now fully-dressed, he paces my bedroom floor with a petrifying scowl on his handsome face. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He mutters under his breath.
“Calm the fuck down, Domenic,” I say barely able to keep my voice from cracking and exposing the raw terror that I feel.
“No – I can’t calm down. You don’t understand the magnitude of what just fucking happened here, Madison.” The veins in the side of his neck strain beneath his skin.
I sit on the side of the bed, tying the sash of my robe tightly around my waist. “Well, enlighten me, Domenic.”
He ignores me. His eyes are downcast as he paces some more, raking his fingers through his wild, blond curls. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
I’m not sure if I’m anxious about what exactly he’s thinking or simply frustrated at the fact that this usually-articulate man is either unable or unwilling to communicate with me right now. “Domenic, what’s going on? Chase walked in on us. It was a bit embarrassing but so what? It’s not the end of the world.”
He glares at me with those stormy blue eyes, scrubbing the back of his neck with his palm. “If only it was that fucking simple.”
“Okay Domenic. You’re gonna have to give me more than that. When I was worried about my best friend finding out about us, you didn’t care. Now that your best friend knows about us, you’re pacing my carpet and punching holes through my wall. What the fuck is your problem?”
“Madison…Just…Just…” He stammers, looking for the right words as he paces.
“Chase can’t tell me who I can and cannot sleep with. He’s not my boyfriend. He never was. Even when I was groveling at his feet. Chase does not ‘own’ me.”
Domenic stops pacing and looks me dead in the face. “But he owns me.”
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Confusion bubbles in my mind but before I can formulate a question, Domenic grabs his jacket and is out the door.
Dirty Player (The Dirty Suburbs Series – Book 2)
Coming soon…
Faith Monroe
I’ve been catfished.
My fairytale Internet romance has quickly turned into a nightmare. Now, I’m stranded 2000 miles from home with no ID, no money and nowhere to lay my head on this hellish California night…
He was supposed to be my valiant white knight, a friend-of-a-friend sent to save me from my poor life choices. But, Maxwell Masters likes to play dirty…he wants something in return. (No, not THAT. Get your mind out of the gutter).
Maxwell Masters
I’m the ultimate NFL bad boy. And after a string of bar brawls and an innocent game of naked truth-or-dare on a public beach, my career is on the line. My only hope of saving my very lucrative contract is to prove to the team's management that I’m a changed man in a committed relationship and that my player moves are now reserved exclusively for the football field.
So, when the gorgeous friend-of-a-friend happens to stumble into my life, desperate vulnerable and in need of rescuing, I see the perfect opportunity. Faith Monroe will be my fake girlfriend. Unless she'd rather hitchhike her fine ass all the way back to Reyfield, Illinois.
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Dirty Neighbor (The Dirty Suburbs) Page 27