Neighbors (12 page)

Nineteen

Tracy spends several hours on my hair and make-up. When she’s done, I don’t recognize the girl in the mirror. I take the plastic off the evening gown I’d purchased months ago for this occasion.
The electric blue fabric enhances the blue of my eyes, as well as compliments my fair skin and blonde hair. Its sweetheart neck with intricate beadwork on the bodice fits snugly and at the waist the silk fabric of the skirt flairs to the floor. I dance in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom before I slip into the stiletto heels and walk out into the living room.

Tracy’s face lights up. “Oh…my…
God! Mel, you look incredible! You have the right body for that dress.” I’m happy with Tracy’s reaction.

I turn for her and then look
down at the front of the dress. “You don’t think it’s too revealing?”

“Melissa, will you stop.
You have all the right parts for this dress. You’re a very attractive woman. You should dress like this more often. It makes me happy to see you look the way you should.”

She’s such a great friend.

As the two of us admire the details of the gown, our girl chatter is interrupted by a light knock on my door. Tracy pulls the door back to reveal Dylan standing on the threshold. I feel like I’m going to my prom and my date just arrived. He is impeccably dressed in a very smart grey suit. A powder grey shirt provides a nice background to an electric blue tie that matches my gown. His mouth drops when he sees me.

Tracy smiles.
“You clean up nice.” Dylan is still in the doorway. “Well, are you coming in or does the whole neighborhood have to know our business?”

He refocuses
. “Sorry. I just…” He looks at me as he walks into the house. “You look…amazing!”

I blush and say, “Thank you.
”

I collect the tickets and my purse
, and Tracy, Dylan and I walk out of the house.

“You’d better have a good time,” Tracy warns
as she gets into her car.

I smile. “I will.”

She turns to Dylan. “Make sure she dances a little.”

He offers a salute in return.

The valet takes my car as Dylan offers his arm to escort me into the catering hall. I never attended the event in the past and I’m not sure whom I’ll see from the hospital. I’m a bit nervous, but, I know Dylan, and really that’s all I need.  Several people smile at us as we mingle through the small crowds of people who are grouped according to medical specialty. The dermatologists are closest to the door, the lab techs are near the band, and the research geeks are huddled in the corner closest to the buffet. I recognize a few of the doctors from the consult visits in the ER.

“Would you like a drink?” D
ylan asks.

“Sure. A ginger ale.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he says and heads toward the bar.

I scan the room for anyone I know personally. The only
one I recognize I don’t want to be within a mile of. He sees me and heads straight for me.

“Hello, Melissa.”

My body is on high alert. The adrenalin is pumping through my veins and my breathing is irregular. A film of perspiration forms on my back. My ‘fight or flight’ mechanism is buzzing, waiting. I’m tempted to scream but I don’t want to cause a scene. “Hello, Greg,” I manage in a less than interested tone.

Instead of leaving,
as I hope, he stands in front of me and eyes me up and down. “You look absolutely stunning in that dress.”

“Thanks.” I turn my head to
look for Dylan. My leg starts a nervous shake under the folds of fabric of my dress.

“You know, maybe if you would have dressed like this more often when we were married I wouldn’t have strayed.”

Nervousness morphs into anger. My blood heats to a low boil. “Greg, you wouldn’t have paid attention to me even if I wore a G-string and pasties.”

He sucked in his breath. “Ooooh, Mel. That sounds delightful. See, you could have been a good wife.”

“What do you want, Greg?”

“I just wanted to say hello.”

“Well, you said it. Now you can go.”

Dylan walks
over with our drinks. “Is there a problem here? Dr. Lampert, you’re supposed to be a minimum of a hundred feet away from Melissa. Do I need to help you out of here?”

“Threats? It doesn’t suit you, Dylan
.

I put my arm on Dylan’s forearm. “Let’s go over there.” He
hands me my drink and then puts his free arm around my waist to escort me away from Greg.

When we reach the corner Dylan asks if I’m all right. “I’m fine, why?”

“Your face is red.”

“I just don’t like him being near me. I know he won’t do anything in a room full of people, but I didn’t like hi
m before the attempted rape, and now I loathe him.”

During the rest of the evening, we manage to stay clear of Greg.
Dylan successfully gets my mind off of the unpleasant experience by holding my hand and engaging in conversations with several people I work with occasionally.

After the cocktail reception, we’re seated at a table with some nurses from the obstetrics department. They are all lovely people and Dylan and I have a nice time talking with them. The band plays soft music during the meal and then picks up the tempo as the servers bring out dessert. A
couple of singers begin a beautiful duet.

“Oh shoot!” Dylan says.

“What is it?” I say.

“I promised Tracy…”

“You promised Tracy what?”

He stands, bends slightly at the waist, and holds his hand out. “M
s. Baxter, may I have this dance?”

“I thought you don’t dance.”

He smiles. “For you, I’ll make an exception.” Then he winks.

I
return the smile and place my hand in his. “Well then, I’d be honored, Mr. Townsend.”

He leads me t
o the dance floor and places one hand at the base of my back and holds up his other. I complete the pose and he pulls me close. I inhale that smell…his smell; the perfect combination of his cologne, clean cotton, and him. My heart is pounding, my blood is tingling, desire is unfurling throughout my body. I no longer want to be on a dance floor in the middle of a reception hall, wearing a beautiful evening gown. I want to be in Dylan’s bed, naked, and making love.

The music ends and I stop dancing. Dylan searches
my expression for my thoughts.

“Take me home,” I say.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, but I want you and it wouldn’t be appropriate in front of all these people.”

He registers my request. “I’ll go get your purse.”

We don’t talk the entire ride home.
Instead, I stare at his beautiful profile as he exceeds the speed limit slightly. He parks my car in his driveway, then runs up the front steps and holds the door open for me. Once inside, he closes the door gently. I toss my purse onto the couch and grab his hand and lead him up the stairs. I pull him into the bedroom and place him in the center of the room.

I kiss him quickly on the lips
then take a couple of steps backward until I’m an arm’s distance in front of him. His eyes never leave mine. I pull out the pin holding my hair. It falls around my shoulders. Moving only one arm to the zipper along the side of my body, I pull it down as slowly as I can and let the fabric pool at my feet. I stand before Dylan in my stilettos and the newest of my lingerie acquirements: a strapless, cobalt-colored, lace bra with matching garter belt and thong.

Dylan swallows hard as his eyes move up and down my body.

“If I would have known you were wearing that, we would have left the reception sooner.”

My heart races as m
y pulse quickens.

I
lift one foot and step over the crumpled dress. The intensity of his stare makes me want to hurry, but I take my time. Slowly, I press my body against his. I feel him through his trousers. He wants me to hurry too. I push his suit jacket over his shoulders, caressing his muscles through his shirt. Then I carefully undo the knot in his tie and slowly tug on one end of the silk until it unthreads from around his neck. I toss it onto the chair in the corner of the room. Starting with the top button, I undo each one until his shirt hangs open. I raise my hands and place them on his shoulders inside his shirt, skimming them over his arms. The shirt lands on the floor.

“Take your shoes off,” I command and he obliges.

My hands glide over his well-developed chest, down his stomach, and stops at his belt.  I open it and yank it from his waist in a quick motion. He opens his mouth slightly to accommodate his ragged breathing. His chest is heaving. I look up at him through my heavily mascaraed lashes and I open the button on his pants. I drag the zipper down, then caress his hips, sliding his pants and briefs over his legs. He steps out of the clothes and kicks them behind him. He’s standing before me, a perfect specimen of man, ready for me. 

I step close to him
, our bodies barely touching. The heat from his radiates on my own. I have to fight to focus. His scent is intoxicating. Leaning in, the only connection I make is when I place the tip of my tongue in the middle of his chest. I make a trail down his sternum to his navel. He moans and it resonates inside me. A whirlwind begins.

I circle his navel with my tongue
, dipping in and flicking it. He fights to steady himself. I kneel and look up at him through my lashes. His mouth is agape. I give him a promiscuous smile before continuing down his happy trail. I take hold of his impressive length. Softly, I stroke him. He gasps and his hips gyrate in unison with my movements. He’s panting now.

He closes his eyes
and tilts his head back. He’s ready. I cover him with my mouth, enveloping all of him.

“Ohhh.”
His fingers mesh in my hair as I move him in and out. The muscles in his legs are tense. “Please…” I don’t stop. He begs again. “Please…” He’s tugging my hair. “Melissa, please, let me fuck you.”

The words reach down into my groin. I slow my
actions. His breathing adjusts just enough for him to realize he’s on Earth. His strong hands pull me to stand in front of him.

He
reaches behind me and unhooks my bra. My breasts fall free as he tosses the lacy truss onto the chair with his tie.

“Y
ou’re so beautiful.” His voice is breathy, and hot.

His hands
cup the sides of my face. He glides them down my neck, to my shoulders, then to the outside of my breasts. My heart is pounding and my breathing is shallow, my chest heaving. His hands glide down my hips, taking my panties with them. I step out of them and I’m left in the garter belt, stockings, and stilettos. He leans forward. His lips mirror the trail his hands have just traveled. His kisses start at my neck. My skin prickles at his touch. I can’t control my breathing.

He
leads me to the bed and lays me on top of the beige comforter. I push myself to the middle. As he crawls up between my legs I can feel my blood hum. He’s not moving fast enough and I pull him up by the shoulders.

“
I need you,” he says as he eases inside me, filling me, but he’s still. His tongue parts my lips and massages mine. One hand rakes through my hair. My head is swimming. And then his hips start to move. The rhythm is slow, deep. I want him. I need him.

Inside
, I’m pulsating. The sensation is overwhelming. I’m building. And before I know it, I hit Nirvana. Dylan pushes into me twice more and whispers my name into my hair as he climaxes.

Twenty

“Hello?”

“Joey? It’s Melissa.”

“Oh, hey sis. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to let you know that you can rent out your house.”

“You found a place?”

“Sort of. I’m moving in with Dylan.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit fast, Mel? I mean you only know him a couple of months and then that thing with Greg happened.
”

“I know, Joe. But Dylan will protect me.”

“Well, I worry about you, you know?

“I know
, and I appreciate you looking out for me. But I’m ready. Besides, Dylan has more than been there for me. This feels right. I love him.”

“Okay, well you’ve never been one to make a decision l
ightly, so if you say it’s good then I believe you. I’ll keep it free for a bit until you adjust, just in case you change your mind.”

“No, you can rent it. Even if it doesn’t work out, I’ll have to move. I wouldn’t be able to live across the street. But, it will work out, Joe. I can tell.”

“All right. You let me know when you’re ready and I’ll put an ad in the paper. If you want, you can screen them so no wackos will be across the street from you.”

“Thanks, Joey. You’re a good brother. How’s it going with Cheryl?”

“I think I’m in love, too. I’m contemplating marriage.”

“Really? That’s wonderful
.”

“Can’t talk anymore. She’s walking in. Speak to you soon, sis.”

“Okay. Bye, Joey.”

I ha
ng up and look to see Dylan, standing in the center of my living room like a kid waiting to hear whether or not he passed his spelling test.

“You just have to show me which part of the closet is mine and I can bring my stuff over this afternoon.”

He grabs me by the waist and swings me around. “Woo-hoo! Show me what to bring over.” He kisses me and smiles.

I fill
his arms with clothes from my closet and I stuff things from my drawers into plastic bags. I don’t have much so by the fifth trip everything is transferred. After I lock the front door, I take a moment on the step. For the first time in my life I’m sure I’ve made the right decision. I practically skip across the street. Dylan stops me as I get to the front steps. “Wait,” he says.

“What? D
id I forget something?” I look behind at my brother’s door. Had I forgotten to lock it? I start to head back across the street to check the doorknob when Dylan pulls me toward him, plants a very passionate kiss on my lips, and then flings me over his shoulder, caveman style. He crosses his threshold. He heads straight up the stairs, pushes the bags of clothing off of the bed with a swipe of his arm and unloads me on the top of it. He crawls beside me.

Leaning up on his elbow, he tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear.
“Welcome home, Melissa.” He kisses me. “Now, how do you want to celebrate your home coming?” A suggestive grin covers his lips.

I circle his neck with my arms.
“Oh, I can think of a way to celebrate my home…
coming
.” I pull him close and we kiss. Quickly, we strip our clothes off, adding to the pile on the floor.

Our bodies push
against each other. I run my hands through his thick, brown curls. I wonder if he can feel my blood vibrating.

He looks into my eyes. I’m caught by their sincerity. “I would like very much to make love to you now,” he says.

“Yes. Now,” I say, nodding.

He’s gotten to know
my body so well and he moves to exactly where I want him. A slow forward thrust has him buried inside me, filling me. I groan. He pulls back and rolls forward again. He repeats the motion over and over.  And then his hips begin their perfect tempo.

“You
feel so good,” he says and I lose myself in his words. I lift my hips to meet his and together we climb. As the pressure builds, he increases his rhythm. “Let go,” he says and I do. My body convulses as I give in. A tremor runs through me as I release around him.

Dylan follows with one sharp thrust and then freezes,
filling me. He collapses on the bed next to me and curls his arm around my shoulders to pull me near.

“I’m
glad you’re here,” he whispers into my hair.

“Me, too.”