Dear Neighbor

by River Laurent

  Holding my wrists above my head, he grabbed my shirt and tore it open.

  “Fuck you,” I said fiercely, but I didn’t want him to stop. My stomach leaped with excitement.

  “I plan to,” he growled thickly and ripped the lace on my bra making my breast pop out. He bit the tip. I swore, then moaned with intense pleasure as he began to suck it.

  His hand slid between my legs. My body was screaming for him. I heard my panties tear, and then with his eyes never leaving me, he unbuckled his pants, a feral look in his eyes.

  A moan of anticipation left my lips. He spread my thighs with his knee, and entered me with such force I shot up on the bed and screamed. It was as though we were fucking for the first time. My pussy was so tight and clenched, even he looked surprised. “This is the last fucking time you run away from me,” he said and pulling out of me thrust in again.

  “Did you hear me?” Thrust.

  “Fuck you,” I spat.

  “You’re mine and you don’t run away no matter what.” Thrust.

  “Oh God…you, you lied to me.”

  “You don’t know that. You didn’t hear my side of the story.” Thrust.

  I opened my mouth to speak and he put his palm over my mouth “Don’t say another word until you’ve heard my side. Do you understand?”

  I nodded silently. He took his palm off my mouth and I lost myself to one of the most amazing sex sessions of my life. It was just primal lust. We were both wild and ruthless. He gave no quarter; I asked for none. He bit me, I scratched his back. It was just hard thrusts and the kind of climax where it felt like an explosion in my soul. I clung to his shoulders and screamed my head off. And he let me. Why not? We had the whole building to ourselves.

  His cock was still semi-hard and inside me when I turned my head to the side. I hated that I lost control. That I let him into my body when he had betrayed me.

  “Now get off me,” I panted harshly.

  57

  Mimi

  “No. Not until I’ve said what I wanted to say.”

  “You’ve already said everything I need to know in WASP heaven.”

  “No, if you remember, I didn’t get to say anything. You packed and left.”

  “Oh, right. I bet I’m supposed to think this is cute, huh? The man who’ll stop at nothing to get to me. You don’t see how shitty it looks from my side. Invading my privacy just so you can get the last word, far away from your cronies.” I rolled my eyes. “Sorry if I don’t swoon.”

  “Really, Mimi? That is what you think this is all about? Me getting the last word.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I don’t give a shit what they or anybody else thinks about me. I do what I want to do. Alex is your boss not mine. I let you go because I didn’t want to spoil it for you. I knew you were determined to make a scene and I didn’t want to give them anything to gossip about. Eventually, those people are going to be your friends too. Besides, I wanted this to end with a screaming orgasm worth of an empty building.”

  I turned my head away, feeling confused. His words were making me think he wanted to be with me, and when I looked at him, it was too hard to stay level-headed. “Okay, so you’re here. What do you have to say?”

  He touched my cheek gently and I closed my eyes so that he couldn’t see how much I wanted that.

  “There’s so much.”

  “Start at the beginning and hurry up about it,” I said between gritted teeth. I was fast losing control of the situation.

  “Okay, fine. I wanted to tell you about the development that first night.”

  “Bullshit,” I spat.

  “See? I can’t talk to you if you’re gonna shut me down like that.” His voice was firm.

  “Fine. I won’t interrupt.”

  “I wanted to tell you. I thought it would only be right. I felt like an ass. Like I was lying by omission.”

  “Because you were.”

  “Because I was,” he agreed. “But you were so drunk, and then you started crying. I wasn’t gonna be like, hey, by the way, I’m actually the guy who wants you out of your apartment. If you were me, would you have said it then?”

  “No.”

  “Exactly because contrary to what you think I’m not that much of a dick.”

  I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.

  “I don’t know, Mimi. You did something to me that night.”

  “What did I do to you? Please, don’t lie me right now. I can’t take it.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. Before I met you, I mean really met you that night, I thought you were a gorgeous pain in the ass. You were holding me back from going ahead with my plans. I had no time for your stupid stubbornness. You were rejecting offers that were well above market price, but when I met you. I started to respect you. Most of the people I know are so rich all they have is money. You had everything. You were funny and smart, and kind, and sexy and beautiful. I liked you from that night on. You were a real person.”

  “Jeez, I was finally a real person. I wish I had known. I would’ve bought a card to congratulate myself,” I babbled because I didn’t know how else to respond.

  “So that’s what happened.”

  “I feel like we’re skipping a really important part of this story.”

  “What?”

  I finally turned my head to look at him. “The part where you never told me the truth after that. You had so many chances to come clean, Max. Why didn’t you ever tell me the truth?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Jesus, Max.”

  “Because I wanted you to like me, too. I wanted you to get to know me as a person and not some nameless villain. Hell, especially when I knew how much the apartment meant to you. I figured if you got to know me and liked me…”

  “You could seduce me out of my apartment.”

  “No. You would understand why I was working on getting you out of there in the first place. You would, I don’t know, forgive me or something. But the more time that passed, the worse it got.”

  “My heart breaks for you right now.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Me too.”

  He shook his head. “All right. I’m a dick. Does that make you feel better? I said it. I’m a dick.”

  “Yes, Max. That makes me feel so much better. Wow. Thank you. You can go now.”

  I was still furious and more embarrassed than ever. “You were just using me, no matter how you try to spin it. Trying to get me to like you. It was all a big lie. You played up what was happening between us so I’d like you more. You were being fake all the time, is that it? Just faking me out just to get my apartment.”

  “No! You don’t understand anything. I don’t want your apartment. I’ve already had designs drawn up around your apartment.”

  “Good for you,” I said sarcastically.

  “You still don’t get it. I don’t care about any of that. I’m in love with you, Mimi Young.”

  I stared at him in shock. “What did you say?”

  He grinned. “I said, I’m in love with you.”

  “Oh.” My heart pounded a mile a minute. I swallowed hard. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

  I looked him in the eye, searching for the truth. He looked sincere. He sounded sincere, too. His face was full of what looked like hope and anticipation combined.

  “Do you mean it?” I asked. “I mean, really? You’re not just saying that so I’ll give you a blowjob?”

  His eyes popped open. “Will you?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. I might.”

  He placed one hand over mine, right over my heart. “I mean it. I started to fall for you from that first night. I told myself it was just lust, but it wasn’t, and I’ve been working my ass off since then to get you to feel the same way.” He shrugged. “It’s lame. I know it is. But that’s what happened.”

  I took a deep breath, cold air filling my lungs. “Wow. But I was s
o drunk.”

  “You were mega drunk,” he smirked. “And mega cute and sexy and a phenomenal kisser. That helped, too. I’m crazy about you.”

  I smiled, still sure I was dreaming. But no, it was too vivid for a dream. I could feel the weight of his hard body, and the scent of his cologne mixed with our coupling. His hand was warm, and my heart raced so hard I could have sworn my chest would burst.

  “I love you,” I whispered, terrified and elated and relieved to finally let it out.

  His face lit up, a smile spreading from ear to ear. “You do?”

  “Why do you think I was so upset last night? That wasn’t because of an apartment, or because you lied. It was because I’m totally, stupidly in love with you.”

  Anything I was about to say was cut off by his kiss. I threw my arms around him and kissed him back.

  He loved me. He loved me!

  I touched my forehead to his, breathing deep, wanting to take that moment and hold it in my heart forever.

  “What do you say we find a way to be together forever?” he asked.

  “I think I could get on board with that.”

  “As long as you don’t ask me to start drinking coconut water.”

  “As long as you don’t ask me to start running.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you.” I couldn’t have wiped the smile off my face if I tried. Then, something occurred to me. “Do you like spaghetti and meatballs?”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “Think you might wanna meet my mom?”

  He grinned. “Mothers love me.”

  “Mine’s pretty tough.”

  “Like mother, like daughter, then.”

  “You sure you’re up to the challenge?” And I didn’t mean just meeting my mother. I meant being together, meshing our lives, creating one of our own. I could see myself with him forever, scary as the word felt. When I looked into his eyes, it didn’t feel all that scary, after all. Exciting, more like.

  He kissed me again. “Try me.”

  “I’ll ask you that question again after I’ve told you a little story about my grandmother,” I said.

  “Baby, there’s nothing you or anybody can tell me that’ll make a damn bit of difference to the way I feel about you.”

  And somewhere in heaven, Grandma Parks smiled with satisfaction.

  Epilogue

  Mimi

  “Say Mama.”

  “Dada.”

  I forced a smile. “This is really important to me, Junior. Come on, say, Ma…ma.”

  “Da…da,” he chirped, and had the gall to grin toothlessly at me.

  “Right. That’s very good. Mommy is really proud of you. Now it’s time to say, mama. Come on, be a good boy and say Ma.”

  “Da.”

  “Junior, say Ma.”

  “Da.”

  “Say Mama for god’s sake.”

  “Dada.”

  I took a deep breath. There must be another way. I walked over to the freezer and took out ice cream. I put it into a bowl and brought it back.

  “Mmmm…ice cream. Say Mama.”

  He flung his hands around excitedly and stared at the ice cream.

  I scraped a little into the spoon. “Now say Mama and I’ll give you this ice cream.”

  I heard a sound and turned. Max was standing there with his eyebrows raised.

  “Are you bribing our son so he will say your name first.”

  “No,” I denied awkwardly.

  “I just heard you.”

  I shrugged. “I was offering him ice cream.”

  “In exchange for him saying your name. That’s called cheating, Mrs. Black.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s called being inventive.”

  I put the bowl of ice cream down and Junior suddenly screamed, “Mama.”

  For a second both of us froze then I clapped my hands with joy and danced around happily. “Did you hear that? Did you hear he called my name?” I came to a stop in front of Max and put my hand out. “I win. You lose. He said my name first. Cough up the five hundred dollars, buster.”

  He crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared at me. Oh my, my husband has a very, very nice chest.

  “What?”

  “Whose name did he say first?”

  He stared at him incredulously. Surely, he wasn’t going to pretend Junior said his name. “Mine. You heard it yourself. He said Mama.”

  “I forgot mention that I stood outside the door for a few minutes before I actually decided to come in.”

  I took a step back. “Oh.”

  He shook his head in wonder. “I can’t believe how competitive you are. You were going to let me believe that he said your name first, weren’t you?”

  “I would have eventually told you,” I muttered.

  “Really? When?”

  “I don’t know. At his graduation or something.”

  “Come here.”

  I walked up to him and he put his arms around me.

  “Are you mad with me?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  I chewed my lower lip. “Why not?”

  “Because you are the most delicious thing I ever laid eyes on. And there is nothing more entertaining than watching you blatantly lie and cheat just to win a bet.”

  I grinned. “That’s not what you said about the first bet we took.”

  “When you poisoned me, you mean.”

  “It was not poison. It was just a laxative. Everybody needs to clean their system out now and again.”

  “Actually, it was a love potion,” he said and kissed me. My husband knows how to kiss. He makes the rest of the world fall away.

  THE END

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  Copyright © 2016 by Georgia Le Carre

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  ‘I beg your pardon,’ Dr. Maurice Strong, London’s top plastic surgeon, says with a perfect mix of British snobbery and scathing contempt.

  Anybody else would have cringed, but not Britney. She has absolutely no problem repeating her certifiably weird request.

  ‘I want you to make my eyes look like a cat’s. You know, going upwards, like this.’ She lays both her pointer fingers on the outer corners of her eyes, and pulls the skin upwards, as high as her seventeen-year-old skin will stretch.

  Dr. Strong glances at me as if he suspects this whole thing is some sort of a schoolgirl prank.

  I’ll admit it’s a feat not to laugh at the crazy scene unfolding before my eyes, but I’m damn good at k
eeping my expression shit-hot blank. It’s more than my job’s worth to express even a hint of mockery at Britney’s frequent forays into lunacy. I’m paid by her father to follow her around, fetch, carry, and generally baby her.

  How can I describe my job?

  Well, I guess it’s a bit like the ass-wipers of ancient China. No, I’m not kidding. Straight up serious. Apparently, every great emperor had a manservant whose sole duty was to carefully clean his master’s ass after he’d done a number two, then carry away the precious royal droppings and dispose of them. You’d think that would have been considered the most horrible occupation a man could have, wouldn’t you?

  Not so.

  The best part of this little nugget from the past is since the emperor was believed to be a god in human form directly from heaven, it was considered an awesome job, and eagerly fought over by many candidates. Only the luckiest guy got to smell and possibly touch a god’s poop.

  Unfortunately for me, other than the silent laugh factor of my job, there is no such satisfaction in mine. Getting nada from me, Dr. Strong pushes his glasses halfway down his nose (strange how plastic surgeons never have great noses) and peers frostily at Britney from the top of his gold-rimmed glasses. It’s obvious that he thinks she’s in need of professional help.

  ‘You want me to operate on your eyes to make you look like a … cat?’ he enunciates each word slowly, but drops the last word like a brick into the frigid air of his consulting room.

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Britney confirms, flashing a heartbreakingly happy smile and nodding her blonde head eagerly at him.

  Dr. Strong sighs, as if he has done this way too many times, or he might actually prefer the ass wipe job. He clasps his hands on his desk and looks at her grimly. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Hunter, but I’m actually here to make people look better, not turn them into ridiculous freaks.’

  That floors Britney. This never happens on her favorite TV program, Botched, where even the bizarre people asking to be turned into dolls and aliens are mollycoddled and treated with kid gloves by the two resident plastic surgeons. For a few seconds she actually looks alarmed. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. Then she sits forward hastily.