“For you and your sexy neighbor.”
Nikki shook her head. “Jenna, that’s crazy.”
“Listen to me. This is the first man you’ve even noticed since your breakup with Matthew. I’m coming over.”
“C’mon over, but I’m telling you right now, it’s a waste of time.”
“And why is that?”
“Because (a) I’m not his type. Clearly. Men like that do not go for women like me. And (b) even if I was his type, I’m not ready. It’s still too soon after Matthew.”
Jenna sighed into the phone, exasperation evident.
“I’m sorry, Jenna, but I’m not over him yet.”
“You know what they say—the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new. Stay right there. I’m on my way.”
Fifteen minutes later, Jenna arrived with bagels and cream cheese. They sat on the area rug and got down to business.
“Did you see him when you came in?” Nikki asked.
“No, and let me tell you, I did some serious loitering out in your hallway.”
“Well, another bombshell showed up. A blonde this time.”
“I wonder if he’s a pimp. Or maybe he’s running some sort of upscale prostitution ring or escort service.”
“I hope not. He’s too beautiful for something sleazy like that. But you should have seen that lingerie.”
Jenna took a bite of her bagel and in between chews she said, “Okay, we need more information. Do you think he’s married to one of them?”
“Didn’t see a wedding ring. But then again, I was too busy looking at his amazing abs.”
Jenna stopped chewing. “Wait— You saw his abs?”
“His shirt was unbuttoned. God, the man’s got great abs. Solid muscle. He’s beautiful.”
“Okay, we need to find out if he’s attached.”
“Of course he’s got to be attached. How can a man that sexy not have a wife or a girlfriend? We know he’s buying expensive lingerie for someone. And besides, he’s got all those women coming and going.” Nikki shook her head. “What difference does it make, anyway? I keep thinking about Matt—”
“If you mention Matthew once more, I’m going to hit you with this bagel.”
“I can’t help it. We had a really good thing. Maybe it’s my pride or my ego, but I want him to realize what he threw away. Is that so wrong?”
“Forget about Matthew for a minute. What’s the sex god’s name?”
“Dallas.”
“Seriously? That’s his name? As in the city?”
“Technically it’s Troy Dallas, but he said everyone calls him Dallas.”
“Okay, give me your laptop. We’re going to Google him.”
“Isn’t that like cyber-stalking?”
Jenna tapped her head. “That’s exactly what it is. And any woman with half a brain would do it.” Click, click, click. “Uh, let’s see now… Troy Dallas. Chicago… Here we go— Oh wait, that’s definitely not him. He’s like sixteen.” Click, click, click. “Oh—wait—wait—wait. Aha. Bingo.”
“What? What’d you find?”
Jenna took a sip of coffee and cleared her throat. “Holy cow. Troy Dallas, fashion photographer. That’s gotta be what all those women are about. Let’s see…” She scooted forward, closer to the laptop. “Look at his head shot.” Jenna fanned herself and flipped the laptop around for Nikki to see.
“Oh yeah.” Nikki swallowed hard. “That’s him all right.”
Jenna grabbed the laptop back. “Wow, he’s photographed Kate Moss. Shit, he’s done covers for Vogue and Vanity Fair. He’s the real deal. This is no small-time photographer.” She clicked on a few more links. “And Nikki, you’re not gonna believe this.” Jenna looked up, smiling. “Guess who’s shot for Architectural Digest?”
“What? No way.” Nikki swooped in and looked over Jenna’s shoulder. Architectural Digest was Nikki’s bible. Her dream was to have her projects photographed in that magazine. “He’s done a lot of work for them.”
“Girlfriend, Romeo across the hall is like seriously über-accomplished. Let’s see…” She began scrolling down the page, reading. “He’s from Manchester, England… He’s been living in the States for the past five years. Oooh, he’s smart. An undergraduate degree in political science from the University of Cambridge and a master’s from American University. Relocated to Chicago in 2010. He’s thirty-one. And… Ding ding ding. Single! And freakin’ gorgeous. And he lives right across the hall from you. How lucky is that.”
“He’s amazing. He is. Why don’t you go for him, Jenna?”
“Please.” Jenna rolled her blue eyes. “I’ve got my hands full with Tyler.” Tyler was her on-again, off-again boyfriend. Apparently at the moment things were back on with the two of them. “This guy would be good for you, Nikki. Even if he’s just a rebound.”
“Oh, come on. Even if I was looking for a rebound—which I’m not—he’s not going to want anything to do with someone like me. Look at him. Look at the women who model for him.”
“He’s probably bored to death with them.”
“Like how Matthew was bored with me.” Nikki bit down on her lip remembering how she’d looked at him, blinking past the tears, asking why.
“Why can’t you marry me?”
He had looked up at her and shrugged. “I guess I’m just bored.”
Bored. She felt punched in the gut. She’d wanted specifics. “Is it me? Is it my personality? Is it our sex life? Do I bore you in bed? Tell me, Matthew. Just tell me. ”
He couldn’t pinpoint it, which only made Nikki obsess on the matter. What was she to do? Take up skydiving? Deep-sea fishing? Learn to speak French and Italian? Take a striptease class?
“Sorry, Nikki,” Jenna said. “Poor choice of words. You are so not boring. You’re smart, successful, and—”
“Was successful,” Nikki said, raising her index finger to correct her.
“That’s temporary. You’ll get back on your feet. I know you will. And besides, you’re beautiful and funny. You need to drop the ugly duckling routine and put yourself back out there. And I think your single, sexy neighbor is a great place to start.”
Nikki looked at her half-eaten bagel and pushed it aside. The ugly duckling routine was going to be a hard one to shed. All her life she’d been overweight and teased about it. Matthew was the first man to ever look at her twice, and even with him, she still felt insecure about her appearance.
“I’m serious, Nikki,” Jenna said. “It’s time to put yourself back out there. This would be good for you.”
“Not interested. I was with Matthew for five years. I don’t know how to put myself back out there anymore. And don’t give me that look. I can’t help it if I’m still in love with him.”
“I mean it, Nikki, I will hit you with this bagel.”
…
Dallas pinned her up against the wall, keeping both her wrists suspended above her head with one hand while the other stroked her cheek. She didn’t even know where he’d come from, but there he was in all his raw sexiness, pressing his hard body into hers, gripping her wrists tighter and tighter. His wavy brown hair was tousled, his dark eyes locked on hers, making her legs go weak. Nikki swallowed hard as he leaned in even closer and the scent of his musky, maleness overwhelmed her.
“I couldn’t stay away,” he said in that amazing accent of his. “I know we just met, but I can’t stop thinking of you.”
Before she could respond, he released her wrists and put his arm around her waist, drawing her toward him. A shiver shot through her. The heat rose off his perfect body. Unable to take her eyes off his exquisite mouth, she was filled with anticipation as he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. She gave off a quiet moan as she tasted his tongue. His hands traveled over her body, making her stomach flip and her kissing more intense. Wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, she ran her fingers through his glorious hair.
His lips trailed down her neck, his tongue teasing her, driving her crazy. His muscular thigh
parted her legs and her body took over, pressing against the hard ridge in his jeans. He reached for her blouse, grabbed the front, and in one quick move, ripped it wide open, sending the buttons flying as her breasts heaved forward, aching for him. She had no bra on—wait, where’s my bra?—but in less than a second it didn’t matter because his skillful tongue worked her nipple to a stiff peak, making her body shake. She arched her back to give him more of her as she felt herself getting wetter and wetter.
Then poof he was naked, and poof-poof so was she—how did that happen? She didn’t care, because he was the most spectacular man she’d ever seen. His abs looked like chiseled marble, his biceps thick and bulging—bulging almost as much as his long, hard cock. He reached down between her legs and stroked her inner thighs, sending a quiver through her body.
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
“Oh, please,” she panted into his lips, “touch me. Please touch me.”
His fingers slid through her slick heat, making her gasp, her insides pulsating.
He stroked her again, sending a ripple of bliss through her core. “Your pussy feels so good. So hot, so wet.” His lips brushed against her ear, making her shudder. “I want you,” he whispered, pulling her closer and nipping her neck as she panted and moaned.
He slipped two fingers up inside her as her hips bucked and writhed against him, out of control.
“Let me hear you,” he said, biting her earlobe. “Let me hear you come. Come hard for me.”
“I’m…I’m… Oh yeah… I’m—”
Nikki woke with start. She was on the couch with her hand between her legs. She sat up, so disoriented she wasn’t sure what time it was or even when she’d fallen asleep. Good lord, where did that come from? I don’t even know Troy Dallas. And besides, I’m still in love with Matthew. What is wrong with me?
Chapter Four
Dallas treaded up the side walkway, spotted a woman heading toward his building, and did a double take. At first he didn’t recognize her, but on second look, that beautiful woman was definitely his new neighbor, Nikki Norris.
If there’s one thing he knew as a fashion photographer, it was how clothes could make or break a woman’s look. He instinctively knew what worked and what didn’t. It was nearly impossible for him to turn off his photographic eye, yet when he took one look at Nikki, there was no lens in his way. He was a red-blooded man looking at a beautiful woman who caught his attention and wouldn’t let go.
Gone were her baggy sweats and the jersey, replaced by a dress that hugged her hourglass figure the way he would have liked to. His cock woke up fast, and he longed to see every inch of her curves. The wind kicked up, blowing the slit open on the side of her dress, revealing a hint of her sleek suntanned thighs and her amazing legs, looking all the more sexy in those sky-high sandals. He could have started at her ankles and worked his tongue up her shapely calves. He wanted to run his hands through her chestnut-colored hair and lose himself in the feel of those silky, shiny locks.
She lifted her sunglasses and propped them on top of her head, and he noticed how her enormous, smoky dark eyes sparkled in the sunlight. Damn, that woman cleaned up nice. She was a head turner, no doubt about it, but not in that cheap, plastic model kind of way he was so used to. No, she was a woman of substance. Yes, Nikki Norris had definitely piqued his interest, and that hadn’t happened in a long, long time.
“Hey, Nikki,” he called out, trying to catch her attention, but she had already disappeared and slipped inside the building.
…
Nikki stepped off the elevator, opened her door, and walked inside, kicking off the strappy, torturous sandals. What a waste. All done up and for nothing.
I’m such a fool. She’d been so good, so strong for so long—not checking his Facebook page, not incessantly looking in her spam folder for a lost email from him.
So what on earth had possessed her to go by Matthew’s office today? Something inside her snapped, and the plan was already set in motion and she couldn’t rein herself in. Sure, she just had to drop off a T-shirt of his that she’d not so accidentally packed up when she’d moved out. Yes, she could have mailed it to him, or left it in a drawer, but she wanted the excuse to go see him.
Maybe I’m having a psychotic break.
Naturally he was in a meeting, and so Nikki tucked the T-shirt back inside her bag and told Gail, his assistant, that she just happened to be down in the Loop.
“And well, you know, I thought I’d stop by and say hello.”
“I see,” Gail said, not quite nodding, checking Matthew’s schedule. “I’m afraid he’s got a one thirty and a two forty-five, too,” she said with a shrug. “You really should have called ahead of time. I could have saved you the trip.”
Gail had always been friendly in the past, but this time Nikki could have sworn she was giving her a sideways look, as if to say, “What are you doing here? It’s over. Deal with it.”
But Nikki wasn’t dealing with it. She tossed Matthew’s T-shirt onto the dining room table, along with her purse. How pathetic. She could only imagine what Gail would say to Matthew whenever he came up for air. “Ah, your loser ex-fiancée stopped by this afternoon.”
Making a cup of tea, she tried to motivate herself to work on Norris Interiors. She had to create a new website. Update her contacts. Revamp her portfolio. Edit through all her photographed work. And most importantly, somehow she had to find some new clients.
Sitting down at her laptop, she saw a flurry of email activity. Most of it spam. Nothing from Matthew, of course, but plenty of offers for free Viagra, cheap Rolex watches, and penis enlargement pills. Once again, she tried to compose an email blast announcing her new firm. She figured she’d send it out to her database of over fifteen hundred vendors, realtors, and anyone else she could think of who could possibly refer work her way.
She wouldn’t mention her ex-partner, Polly Lange, or acknowledge the fact that she had skipped town and disappeared with their clients’ money and nearly $350,000 owed to vendors. Polly had lied to all their customers, and she’d been lying to Nikki all along as well. Because of Polly, Nikki doubted if there was a painter, furniture maker, or rug vendor in Chicago who’d be willing to do business with her again. She feared she had become an interior decorating pariah. She had to turn this around, especially since she’d already blown through most of her savings. And thanks to her former partner’s shenanigans, the bank had turned her down for a loan.
Jenna suggested she find a new design partner, but Nikki had been burned, and she wasn’t going to trust her business again to anyone but herself. After she proofread the email, she drew a deep breath and hit send. For the next fifteen minutes she compulsively checked her inbox. Nothing. Not even the dreaded “Daemon Error” message.
Feeling antsy, she decided she’d take a jog around her new neighborhood, work off some stress. Running was a new hobby for her, something she could thank Matthew for. One day she was upset and angry and went for a walk. She imagined the pavement was Matthew’s face, and with each stride she pounded out her frustrations until she was walking so fast that she broke out into a jog. She ran with all her might and afterward, much to her surprise, she felt better. Better than she had in weeks. So the next day she tried it again, and again the day after that.
Slipping into her sports bra, tank top, and running shorts, she threw her hair up in a high ponytail and laced up her running shoes. She decided to take the freight elevator down since it let her out on the side of the building, closer to a quiet block, easier for running. The freight was a shaky ride down three levels, filled with bumps and stalls, and she was relieved when she finally made it to the ground floor.
With her iPod in place, she cranked up Adele and took off in the direction of the lakefront, heading east on Huron before cutting over to Michigan Avenue. Darting in and out of shoppers and businessmen, she ran along the Magnificent Mile, window-shopping as she went until she came to the underpass at Oak Street that led to the runnin
g path. Cyclers and joggers were out, along with speed walkers and others leisurely strolling along. Lake Michigan sparkled aqua blue, and a subtle breeze kept the waves breaking gently along the beach.
It felt good to sweat and pound the stress out. Three miles went by in a flash and before she knew it, she was back in her neighborhood. She did a few stretches outside on the grass, feeling the tightness in her calf and thigh muscles beginning to give way as sweat glistened off her arms and legs. She patted the back of her neck, damp with perspiration, and slipping into the back entrance, she headed to the freight elevator.
As she was about to close the rickety gate, she heard footsteps, and someone called to her. “Hey, hold the lift, will you?”
Oh no. She froze. The accent. It was Dallas. Why did she have to run into him now? She was a sweaty mess.
“Hey there,” he said, flashing her a heart-stopping sexy smile. He wore a pair of jeans that hugged muscular thighs and an expensive-looking black T-shirt that showed off his amazing biceps. His scent drifted to her, spicy and musky. And here she reeked of sweat.
“Hi, Dallas.” She tried to smooth down her hair, forgetting it was up in a ponytail. Her dream about him came rushing back to her, and she could feel her cheeks getting flushed. Please let him think it’s from my run.
“Been out for a jog, have you?”
“Oh, ah, yeah.” Why did this guy make her so nervous? It wasn’t like he’d ever be interested in her. After all, there was somebody he was buying sexy lingerie for. And besides, she still loved Matthew.
“So where’d you go?”
“Just up to the lakefront.”
“Ah, it’s a great place to run. Did you head north or south?”
“I went north. Up to North Avenue Beach and back.”
“That’s a good run. You ever head south, toward the Museum Campus?”
Nikki shook her head, staring at his mouth, loving the way everything sounded coming out of it. Loving the curve of his lips, how full and inviting they were. Jesus—stop it. Just stop it. “You’re a runner?” she managed to ask.
“When I can find the time. You should really try heading south. On the run back you’ll get the best view of the city.”
Love Thy Neighbor Page 2
