by Mj Fields
Her brows knit together and she looked down.
“Don’t hold back, Miss Bassett, nothing you say or do is going to get you that interview.”
“I’ll write what I‘ve seen.”
The door opened and I took her by the elbow and guided her to her suite. I slid the card through the lock, opened the door, and walked in. I set her bag on the floor and turned to her.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. If you don’t give it to me, I will do my own investigating and write a very detailed profile and story about the Abraham O’Donnell.”
I nodded, “Very well, do what you need to do. Just do me a favor, don’t leave out the part about your cum soaking my face.”
“You bastard,” she hissed.
“Or the part about you lying on a bed in Florida blindfolded as a perfect stranger gave you the best orgasm you have had, or ever will again.”
“Get out,” she snapped.
“Fine. Lock the door you’ll be fine.”
“Are you insane? One second you’re degrading me and the next trying to play hero.”
“I never degraded you, Miss Bassett. I was merely giving you some facts to add to your little story. And I’m not being a hero, I’m being a gentleman.”
I turned and walked out the door before I took her; because I was damn sure she needed it.
***
I woke in the morning to a throbbing head and my intercom buzzing. I sat up and looked around trying to find my phone, and then remembered I had left it in the kitchen charging. I jumped out of bed and pulled on some basketball shorts.
When I made it to the kitchen and grabbed my phone, I punched the security app to see who was at my gate at seven o’clock in the morning.
I chuckled when I saw Miss Bassett looking into the monitor. I pushed the button, which acted like Facetime, and saw her look of shock when I appeared on the screen.
“Good morning, Miss Bassett, how can I help you?”
“I was going to give you a ride to the police station.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s the least I can do.”
“I can manage, but thank you.”
“I also have no idea where it is,” she admitted, “Or what I am supposed to tell them.”
“I will buzz you in. Use the side door. Make yourself at home, give me ten minutes.”
I pushed the button giving her access and walked back up the stairs to take a quick shower.
When I came down, she was sitting up straight on the edge of the leather sofa with her slender ankles crossed. She stood when she saw me.
“Morning,” I nodded and walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out my normal breakfast foods. Kale, eggs, blueberries, and Nutella.
I grabbed the Nutri Bullet and tossed the berries and kale in, then scooped some Nutella, and finally cracked three eggs and blended it together.
I was doing my best to avoid Miss Bassett’s stare. I knew damn well she was after a story and like it or not, she was gonna do it. I sure as hell wasn’t gonna help her out any. She clearly had made up her mind about me long before she washed up on the Jersey Shore.
While breakfast was blending, I put everything back in the fridge, pulled two glasses out of the cupboard, and set them on the counter.
I turned off the machine and poured the mixture into the glasses and handed her one.
“That doesn’t look very good.” She held her hand up.
“Then don’t drink it.” I was annoyed.
“Abe,” she let out a breath, “Mr. O’Donnell, we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”
“Have we?” I drank down my breakfast and turned to rinse the cup before putting it in the dishwasher.
“Look, I didn’t intend on seeing you again,” she said in a voice just above a whisper. “But we should make the best out of the situation right?”
“Are you going to drink that?” I pointed to the glass I had poured for her.
Her nose curled up as she reached for it.
“Don’t smell it,” I warned.
“That bad?” she dipped her tongue in the glass tasting it and I kid you not, shit jumped in my pants. I should have let her suck my damn dick in Ft. Lauderdale.
“No, it’s good.” I turned away and grabbed a key out of the drawer.
When I turned back around, she was plugging her nose and drinking it. I had to hide my amusement, but it wasn’t all that easy.
She set the half-full glass back on the counter and gagged and covered her mouth. I tried not to, but I laughed. I stopped when she did it again.
“Sink, Miss Bassett,” I pointed and she nodded and ran to the sink.
After dry heaving a couple times, she stopped and tried to regain her stiff composure.
“I apologize for that display,” she took the paper towel I offered.
I picked up the glass, slammed down what was left in it, took it to the sink, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher right next to mine.
“Not a fan of shakes?” I asked as I wiped the counter where the cups had set.
“Not a fan of slimy raw eggs going down my throat.” As soon as she let the words out, she looked up at me wide-eyed and blushing furiously.
“Interesting.”
“That’s not—”
“Shall we head out?” I interrupted not wanting to enter into a discussion about swallowing cum while alone with Miss Bassett.
“I need to ask you something first,” she said after clearing her throat.
“Go on.”
“What are you going to say?”
Oh, now I got it. She was nervous I might tell the police why I jumped out of my vehicle. I wanted her to sweat it. She deserved to.
“I’ll think about it on my way. Use the same door you came in. I will meet you outside.”
She nodded eagerly and forced a smile, “Of course.”
After this, all ties would be severed because I wasn’t sure from one moment till the next if I wanted to fuck Miss Bassett or kick her ass, and that was not me, not at all.
Jolted
Nikolette
I stood by my car waiting for Abe when the garage door opened. I heard an engine rev and out pulled Abe on a motorcycle. It was black and chrome and shiny as hell. He pulled up close to me and flipped the shield on his helmet.
“You riding or following?”
I watched his eyes travel down, assessing my attire. I had a skirt on, same thing as last night. I didn’t change. Hell, I didn’t even sleep. I needed to know if he intended on telling the police it was my fault. When he looked back up he smirked a cocky smile that I am sure women everywhere would find alluring, however, I didn’t. The man was an ass.
“I’ll follow.”
“Try to keep up,” his smile faded as he snapped his shield shut and revved his engine while he waited for me to get in my car.
It was an interesting ride to the police station. My eyes were glued to Mr. O’Donnell’s backside the entire time. I tried to look away, but it was impossible, it was right there and the only other thing to look at was his trim waist and very broad shoulders.
I had to figure out a way to let him see I would be very professional in the way I wrote his story. A way to make him give me some information that was a little more personal, something not everyone knew about him. And then I wouldn’t bother him any more.
When we pulled into the police station, he hopped off his bike and pulled his helmet off. When he lifted his arms, his shirt raised bearing just a few hairs that lead right down to his manhood.
I got out and he stood holding the door open as I entered the police station.
He was greeted right away with one of those man handshakes by a uniformed police officer at the desk before we were buzzed in with a “Detective DeAngelo should be in his office.”
We walked into the office and sat down. Abe O’Donnell took over the conversation. He explained that he saw me at the traffic light and jumped out to tell me I had a turn signal out and win
ked at the detective who smirked and nodded.
I wasn’t sure what that was about, but it made me uncomfortable.
The detective said the perp, a thirty-year-old man whose name was Joey Stomboli, had a record, and had just been released from a six-month stay in County. He was sure with the evidence they had they would be locking him up for even longer this time. With other eyewitness statements, the whole thing only took twenty minutes. We signed our statements and that was it.
When we walked out, I had to muster up the nerve to plead my case.
“First, thank you for that. I know you could have made me look foolish in there.”
“You’re welcome.” He started walking away.
“Wait!” I took a deep breath, “I promise,” I stopped when he looked down and shook his head. “Mr. O’Donnell, I promise to be professional. I will—”
“Not interested. Do whatever it is you need to do. All I ask is that you let me see it before it goes to print so that I know what shit storm I’m up against.”
“What makes you think you can’t trust me?”
His eyebrow slowly raised and he put his helmet on, “Make sure you get your landlord to have that electrical problem checked out. Have a good day, Miss Bassett.”
Before I could say any more, he was on his bike and revving his engine again.
And when he rode off, he didn’t look back.
***
Thomas was standing outside smoking a cigarette when I pulled up to my apartment.
“I called the landlord,” he said as he blew a cloud of smoke in the air, “Says it’ll be fixed tonight.”
“I wonder what the problem is.”
“Old house, old fuses I assume. But, hun, I got you covered. If you get scared you just walk next door.”
“Thank you.”
I walked up the stairs and decided I would stay the extra night at the hotel. I packed some clothes and grabbed my wallet. I would not allow Abe O’Donnell to pay for my room.
“You headed out again, hun?” Thomas startled me as I walked out the door. “Did I scare you?”
“Just surprised me, that’s all,” I smiled politely.
“Hun, as much as I like surprising my women around here, I’m gonna have to try not to do that to you again. You’re a jumpy little bunny aren’t you?”
I laughed a little as I walked away. He was kind of a creepy guy. I’m sure he meant nothing by it and I am also sure that I was just on edge about last night.
***
I spent the weekend trying to devise a plan on what to do about the O’Donnell issue. I sent an email to my editor and he granted me permission to work on the story from home the following week and told me that he would not be happy if I didn’t pull this off.
On Monday, I went to Steel again and tried to gather as much information as I could, even trivial things such as when he went to work. I parked in the adjacent parking lot so that he wouldn’t see me. And when I pulled in at six forty-five in the morning, his Land Rover was already there.
While I sat there, I decided I would post on our blog page. My friends and I had started it in high school and continued posting random things weekly. Things such as books we were reading, music we were into, movies we loved, things of that nature. It was a great way to keep in contact when our schedules were as messed up as they were now.
I jumped when someone banged on the window. I didn’t even have to look to know it was him.
I rolled the window down and smiled, “Good morning, Mr. O’Donnell.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know.”
I don’t know why, but it made me smile even bigger and then he huffed and straightened. I opened the door and stepped out.
“Is your electricity problem solved?”
“It is. I also paid for my room, so make sure they don’t charge you.”
He looked up at the sky and shook his head back and forth.
“I get the final okay, OK? And so help me God, if you make me out to be something I’m not. I will put an end to the article and make sure you—”
“I am just going to do the basic interview and a photo shoot. I think you surfing would be a great place to start. All the female readers would love that.”
“No photo shoot. I can have the article written for you.”
“I will be writing the article.”
“You really shouldn’t be telling me how this will go, Miss Bassett. As a matter a fact, I will have legal draw up an agreement between you and I about what will and will not be allowed to be put into print.”
“Abe?” I looked around him and at a very pregnant woman walking our way.
He turned and looked at her, “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, I just saw you storm out of your office,” she pointed up to what was probably his windows, “And wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“Everything’s fine, Carly.”
She smiled at me and stuck out her hand, “Hi, I’m Carly Steel.”
I shook her hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m Nikolette Bassett.”
“Oh,” her dazzling white smile spread across her face, she turned and giggled as she looked at Abe.
“Carly I can handle this,” there was a bit of a warning in his voice.
“I know you can,” she patted his chest and for some reason that made me a bit jealous. Why? “But if you can’t — Nikolette you feel free to call me —and I will give you some inside information on Jersey’s most eligible bachelor.”
She threw her arms around Abe, gave him a big hug, and an obnoxious loud kiss on his cheek, “I love you.”
“You too, Carly,” and he nodded to the building.
When she was out of earshot, I finally allowed myself to look back at him.
I couldn’t say anything for fear that whatever ground I had gained would be lost due to this feeling inside that I knew was jealousy.
He must have sensed it because the corner of his lip turned up. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?
I nodded and he laughed.
“What’s so amusing?”
“You should see the pictures of her and I, we used to look almost identical.”
He looked pleased with himself and I wanted to leave. I hadn’t pegged him as a mean person. A man with very sexually deviant ways and an unnaturally strong sex drive, but not a cruel man. Apparently, I was wrong.
“You shouldn’t be jealous of Carly, Miss Bassett.”
“Jealous?” I tried to act like I wasn’t.
“Yes, jealous.” He laughed and started to turn away. “Tomorrow night at six thirty. My home. You can come in and wait. If I am not available, I will be soon after. Use the code,” he paused and smirked, “Four, four, four, four. That will be yours exclusively; it will keep record of when you come and when you go. Only use it when I ask you to. If I’m going to trust you with personal information, you’ll earn it. Don’t prove me wrong.”
I watched him walk away and tried to come up with something to say, but I chose not to. Partially because I think I just got my way and partially because I was watching a beautiful vision walking towards the sun. Dear God, please help me keep my wits about me.
I went home and showered. A cool shower, although the electricity was working just fine, the air conditioner was not. It was hotter than Hades and I certainly couldn’t afford to stay another night in a hotel.
As I was toweling my hair, there was a knock on the door. I threw on a tank top and a pair of shorts and went to answer it.
“Your place hot, Nikolette?”
It was Thomas and he looked like he had just run a marathon. His face was red and perspiration was evident on his face and hair.
“Are you okay, Thomas? You look nearly overheated.”
“Me, no I’m fine, Hun, just wanted to offer you a cooler climate,” he winked. “I just got a portable air conditioner since the central air here seems to be on the fritz.”
“No I’m fine; I have fans running, but thank you.”
&nb
sp; I was about to shut the door when he reached out and stopped it.
“Nikolette, don’t be so hardheaded, you look incredibly…” his eyes traveled up my body, “hot.”
“I actually have some work to do, but I appreciate the offer,” I quickly closed the door.
Thomas always seemed to be around and it was getting worse by the day. I looked out the peephole to make sure he was gone and he wasn’t. He stood there for another full minute before he turned and walked next door to his apartment.
I had only slept nude once and it was for reasons other than the heat, but tonight I really had no other choice. I went to bed that night with the fan blasting over my body. I woke feeling extremely hot and noticed the fan wasn’t running. I sat up to flip on my bedside table lamp and it wasn’t working. The electricity was out, again.
I reached for my phone and decided instead of calling Mr. Smith, the owner of the house, I would text him. I was a little more than annoyed at this point and if I spoke to him, I would more than likely be rude. This place was where I had to be for the next six to eight months. Hopefully, after that, I would be gainfully employed and able to find a home of my own.
In the morning, I sat up completely unrested to a stifling hot apartment. I headed to the shower hoping that a cool shower would help me be a bit less cranky. When I had finished I decided I would go to get breakfast at a place that had working air conditioning and maybe simply being off the third floor would help.
When I walked out the side door, the landlord was coming up from the basement.
“Miss Bassett, thank you for the text. I really apologize. I can’t believe that three times in less than two weeks this has happened.”
I smiled politely. I was sure he was just saying that. I was even surer that it would happen again in a day or two.
“My in-laws live in the apartment downstairs, Miss Bassett, they have for years. I can assure you this is abnormal and the interesting thing is, it’s always just a tripped breaker. I went through and better labeled the panel on the breaker box.”
“That’s all it is?”
“Yes, I could show you if you’d like.” He motioned to the stairway and I followed him down. After pointing out the box, he showed me how to check for loose breaker switches that may indicate that it would be the culprit.