Dear Neighbor Read online

  “And I secretly like to run.”

  “Nobody’s perfect.”

  He chuckled, standing. “Thanks for this,” he murmured, holding up the carton.

  “You don’t even like it,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, well, it was worth swallowing something disgusting if it meant I got to hang out with you for a minute.”

  I pressed my lips together. “I’ve been spending too much time with you,” I muttered, shaking my head in disgust.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked as he opened the door.

  “Because I just thought of a dirty joke to make there.”

  He paused, thought it over, then smiled before walking out into the hall. “You’re learning.”

  27

  Mimi

  For some bizarre, unknown reason, I shaved my legs and bikini line with meticulous care on Tuesday evening. Then, even more inexplicably, I scrubbed my body with a sugar scrub until it glowed. After toweling myself dry, I rubbed my most expensive lavender scented cream into my skin.

  Then I chose two of the sexiest bits of cream silk and chocolate lace underwear I owned. The bra had a cute little red love-heart fastener in the front. I spent a long time over my hair too. Carefully putting it into big rollers and gently brushing it out so it fell in bouncy waves around my shoulders.

  I slipped into a simple dress because obviously, I didn’t want Max to think I had made any effort at all, and cream pumps. A lick of mascara and gloss and I was done. I wanted to look as if I’d just come from work, grabbed the first thing I saw in my wardrobe and put it on, and I think I succeeded. I looked at my phone. Five minutes to seven. I picked up the wine bottle I had bought by the neck and went to knock on Max’s door.

  It flung open suddenly, and Max filled the threshold. I didn’t think I would ever get used to his presence. His hair was a bit wild and his eyes showed definite signs of stress. There was also a strange smell coming from the interior of his home. I raised my eyebrows.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Sure. Come in.”

  I held out the wine bottle.

  “Thanks,” he said and took it from me distractedly. “Take a seat. I won’t be long. The food is nearly ready.”

  Ah, the source of the smell. I smiled and kept my voice happy. “What are we eating?”

  “Chicken.”

  I nodded. “Just chicken?”

  He frowned. “No. Of course not. There is a salad too.”

  “Oh great. I love chicken and salad.”

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  The smell was getting stronger. “Tell you what,” I said, cocking my head in the direction of the smell, “why don’t we go into the kitchen. You can open the bottle of wine and we can talk while you finish cooking.”

  He hesitated.

  “I love watching people cook,” I added with a big grin, and without waiting for him to answer strolled towards the kitchen. The place looked like a tornado had hit it. A far cry from the immaculate state I had always seen it in previously. Casually, I dusted some flour from a stool and took a seat at the island. “Maybe you should check on the state of your dish.”

  He walked to the oven, donned a pair of black oven gloves, and opened it. A cloud of smoke billowed out as he pulled out a tray of something, well, I had to assume it was food since he was cooking it; although it bore more resemblance to a very large blackened brick than a chicken. I looked at the rectangular charred thing sitting in the middle of the tray with a mixture of surprise. How many days had he been cooking it to burn it that badly?

  The smoke alarm went off. He ran and shook a magazine at it, while I got a window open. The alarm stopped after a couple of seconds and both of us gathered in front of the smoking tray.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Buffalo chicken break-away bread,” he said gloomily.

  There was a recipe book open on the island with a picture of Buffalo chicken break-away bread and I had to admit it looked delicious. “You shouldn’t have started with such an ambitious project,” I said softly.

  “Do you like Chinese?” he muttered.

  “Love it.”

  We called my favorite takeaway joint and I gave Mr. Chan our order.

  “You no want a double order of number eight and number sixty-six today?” he asked, surprised.

  He was referring to my usual double order of egg rolls, and his delicious fried bananas and ice cream dessert. Don’t get me wrong, I was tempted to add them to the order, but I glanced at Max, and he was looking at me with that look in his eyes. I remembered my nice underwear and said, “Not today, thanks, Mr. Chan.”

  I hung up and smiled at Max as he walked up to me with a glass of wine.

  “Thanks,” I said taking it from him. Our fingers brushed and, oh my, my stomach fluttered a little.

  He put on some music. Something foreign. I’d never heard it before. A woman was singing. Her voice was high enough to break glass. It must be an acquired taste. We sat next to each other on the soft leather sofa.

  “So, tell me, how long have we been seeing each other,” he said.

  I crinkled my nose. “How about three weeks ago?”

  He nodded. “So you were cheating on Josh and me?”

  I bit my lip. “Yes.”

  “Okay. Where did we meet?”

  “Let’s keep it simple. We met outside the elevator. You said ‘Hi’ and that was it. One thing led to another and boom.”

  “Boom,” he said softly, his eyes gleaming.

  “Boom,” I repeated, unable to pull my gaze away, mesmerized by the look on his face. His eyes emitted sparks of promise. I remembered how possessively his mouth had crushed mine and felt the heat between my legs. The room felt like it was spinning. Jesus, how much alcohol had I consumed?

  His phone rang. I dragged my eyes away from his and took a big gulp of my wine. He ignored his phone.

  “Don’t you want to take that call?”

  “Nope. What else do I need to know about you?”

  “I love shoes.”

  He nods. “I noticed.”

  “I run. We both run, obviously. I like my food, but I am constantly on a diet.”

  He frowns. “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  ‘No, I don’t. I think your figure is perfect. If anything, you could stand to gain a few pounds.”

  I couldn’t help it. I blushed. Oh God! This man sure knew how to say all the right things.

  28

  Max

  The food arrived. We sat at the table and she looked like she couldn’t believe the message inside her fortune cookie.

  A closed mouth gathers no feet.

  She read it out reluctantly and I sniggered. Then I broke open my cookie and it was her turn to laugh.

  The greatest danger could be your stupidity.

  It made me smile to see her laugh. It kinda set the tone for the rest of dinner. We were both relaxed and the conversation was easy and spontaneous as we got to know one another. She was snarky and smart and I like that in a woman. There was always that sexual tension between us, but it was simmering below the belt. By the time dinner was over, I was buzzing just from her company. She moved and her dress rode up her thighs. She reached to pull it down, but my hands curled around hers.

  “I was enjoying the view, sexy,” I drawled, slow and soft.

  She licked her lips nervously, but she allowed me to put her hands away.

  “Show me,” I whispered.

  “What?” she whispered back, her blue eyes wide.

  “Your sweet little pussy. I’ve been smelling it all night. It’s time I had a taste. Stand up and show it to me.”

  Her lips parted. I’d watched her suck noodles through those plump lips without reacting, but now liquid fire rushed through my body. God, I seriously wanted this woman. I craved her flesh the way an addict craves his drug. I needed to strip her clothes off and drink from her sweet pussy.

  She pushed back her chair and st
ood. I turned sideways and pulled her so she was standing between my legs. She looked down at me. I reached under her dress. Her skin was warm and silky.

  “You’re trembling,” I murmured.

  Her cheeks became pink.

  “What are you scared of, baby? You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

  She bit her lip and looked like she didn’t believe me.

  “You want this, don’t you?”

  She nodded and I smiled a little. My fingers reached the lacy rim of her little panties. I hooked them into the waistband and slid them down her legs. The scrap of material pooled around her shoes. Using my other hand, I swept all the plates and leftover food away from us.

  “Put your ass on the edge of the table and lie back for me, baby,” I instructed. She hesitated a second before obeying. I pushed her dress up and spread her legs until I had a perfect view of her freshly shaven pussy. It was pink and so sweet I wanted to cry. She lifted her head, saw the way I was looking at her pussy and became even redder. My cock was so hard it hurt. Her scent filled my nostrils and made my mouth water. I never wanted to eat out a pussy so badly in my life.

  “Damn, girl, you’re so wet.” My voice was hoarse and thick. I leaned forward and swiped my tongue along her pretty slit for a quick lick. Her juices flowed on my tongue. Fuck, I knew she’d taste good, but she tasted like a slice of fucking heaven.

  She moaned and lay quietly while I licked her pussy again. And again. Pussy juice coated my tongue and ran down my throat. Her little cunt gaped for me and I dipped my tongue into it. She jerked her hips towards my mouth, desperate and seeking. Her hands came and clawed through my hair.

  I sucked her clit into her mouth and I felt her tense up.

  “Oh, Max,” she groaned and ground her pussy against my mouth.

  I carried on sucking until her pussy started to pop, and her cum rolled down my chin.

  “I’m coming,” she panted. I grabbed her ass cheeks and kept on sucking as her whole body bowed as she came hard in my mouth. I continued to lick her pussy long after she came, just enjoying the taste of her. She was breathing hard when I gave her one last kiss and lifted my head. She got onto her elbow.

  “Wow,” she whispered, her eyes hooded.

  “I want to see your tits.” I watched her sit up and take her dress off. Her bra had a fastening in the front and when she flicked it, her breasts sprang loose. That was some rack she had, swollen and heavy with rosy tips. They bounced and begged me to suck them. My stomach clenched, and my erection felt hot and thick in my pants.

  Mimi Young, the object of too many fantasies, was naked on my dining table. The number of times I had stroked myself to release thinking of her was too many to count.

  I looked at her hungrily. I cupped a breast, felt its delicious weight in my hand. Then I rolled the hard nipple back and forth between my fingers until she groaned, and her body arched. I liked looking at her body completely exposed. I stared at her and experienced a strange sensation. One I’d never had before. Possessiveness blazed inside me.

  This was my woman. She was mine and only mine. God help any man who even fucking looked at her.

  I leaned forward and bit her nipple. She drew in a startled breath sharply then groaned low—the sound was erotic and primitive. I sucked it hard, and she shivered helplessly. The more I sucked the more she writhed and whimpered like an animal. The sounds she uttered made me feel wild and strangely out of control. She rubbed her open pussy against my clothed shaft. It felt so damn good I nearly came right there. Every nerve, every cell screamed out for me to slam into her. At that moment nothing mattered, except her. Her body. Her mouth. Her pussy. Her cries of pleasure. She was my only reality.

  She tore at my shirt, buttons pinging. Her fingers looked pale nestled in my chest hair.

  ‘Oh, yes, Mimi. Oh, yes,’ I encouraged.

  She began to undo my belt. Her fingers were frantic. All I could think of was the lust I felt for her. I felt as if only she could give me the satisfaction I craved. As if what I would get from her would put every other experience I had had into the shade. My fingers moved in and out of her, maddening her. She unzipped my pants and pulled at my boxers. I couldn’t wait to get inside her. Suddenly, my cock was in her hands. She gripped me by the base. A groan rumbled in my chest.

  ‘God! You’re so beautiful,’ she whispered in awe.

  29

  Mimi

  I looked at his cock. It looked like something that had been made from smooth plaster. It was so…mammoth. Every inch was blemish free and flawless. Like a beautiful golden horizontal pillar. I wonder how he will fit inside me. I couldn’t wait to impale myself on it. He rolled a condom on it and rubbed the tip of it on my wetness. I closed my eyes with anticipation.

  Suddenly my ring tone jerked me out of my frenzy. For a second, it didn’t register properly and I froze.

  “Leave it,”’ he snarled.

  I wanted to leave it, but nobody called me at this time of the night. Megan knew I was with Max so she would never call. Unless it was an emergency. It could be my mother. My mother and I have drifted apart since Grandma died, but I was all she had. My phone continued to ring.

  ‘I can’t,” I whispered. “It could be an emergency. My mother.”

  He pulled out of me with an oath of frustration and I scrambled away. Suddenly I was aware of how naked I was. I grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. For a second I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

  Tracee!

  What the hell? Why would be she be calling me now? She had never called me anytime after eight. Never. Something must be very wrong with her. I looked at Max. He was staring at me with a disbelieving expression. “I’m sorry I have to take this,” I said.

  He groaned and lay back down. I took the call.

  “Oh, thank God,” Tracee cried urgently. She sounded frightened and shaky.

  “What’s wrong Tracee?” I asked, my blood running cold.

  “I’m so sorry to call you, but I, I didn’t have anybody else to call.”

  “It’s okay. What is it?”

  “It’s my brother. I think he’s dead.”

  “What?” I gasped.

  “The police just called me. He was in a car accident,” she said, her voice trembling uncontrollably. “I have to go and identify the body. They want me to go to the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner. I have the address, but I have no one to go with me,” she ends on a sob.

  “Oh, Tracee. I’m so sorry. Of course, I’ll come with you.”

  “I’m sorry to ask you, but I really have-”

  “Don’t worry about it, Tracee. I’m glad to be able to help.”

  She started sobbing. I couldn’t believe this was the Tracee I knew. Cool, calm and collected. I didn’t know what to say. “Don’t cry, Tracee. Please don’t cry. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you, Mimi.” She sniffed. She sounded so grateful I felt sorry for her. “Thank you so much. How long will it take you to get here?”

  “I’ll call for a cab now.”

  “Thank you, Mimi. You don’t know what this means to me. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

  “It’s okay. No, you didn’t.”

  I asked her to text me her address and hung up. Max walked towards me. He had zipped up his pants and was holding my bra, panties and my dress in his hands.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.

  “No. It’ll just make her feel uncomfortable.” I couldn’t look him in the eye. I held my dress against my body like it was a shield.

  He leaned forward and kissed me on my forehead. “I’ll call you a cab.”

  When he had turned away I pulled my panties up and slipped my arms into my bra.

  I dressed quickly while he was on the phone arranging an Uber ride for me. “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “No problem,” he said, but his eyes glittered.

  Max insisted on coming down the elevator with me. He put me into a cab and closed the
door.

  “Make sure she gets into the building she’s going into before you drive away,” he told the driver and handed him a twenty.

  “Gee, thanks,” the guy said.

  Max stood on the sidewalk as the car pulled away. I turned to watch him. He looked so broad and tall. I felt confused and dazed.

  When I got to Tracee’s address she was waiting for me in the lobby of her building. She was wearing jeans and a green sweater. Her hair was disheveled and she looked white and shocked. I could hardly believe she was the same woman I worked for. She was so different.

  “Thank you for coming, Mimi. I’m sorry to bring you out here at this time of night.” Her voice broke.

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind,” I said quickly.

  She pressed her forehead with her hand and cried pitifully, “God. How could this have happened? I just saw him last week.”

  I felt inadequate in the face of her loss and grief. How was I supposed to react to her distress? Should I reach forward and comfort her or just stand there? She had never been a touchy-feely sort of person and she always drew a fine line between us. We were always boss and subordinate. Besides she had a germ aversion.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” I said without attempting to touch her.

  She pressed her lips together. “All right, let’s go.”

  30

  Mimi

  To my surprise, Tracee wasn’t taken into a room where a sheet was lifted and she was shown the body. Instead, we were told to wait in a small room. Tracee stood and paced the small room until a woman came in. She was wearing a white blouse and a gray skirt and she carried a clipboard. She shook our hands and introduced herself as Ruth Corwan. She was a Grief Counselor.

  “The identification will be through a photo and I’ll be with you during the whole process,” she explained softly.

  “So, I won’t have to see my brother’s body.”