Almost looks like she’s going to scream and I hold down a chuckle, before pressing my lips against hers again to quiet her. Annoyance soon follows though, when a man shouts.
“Nero, you in there? Don’t bother hiding from me, I can see the lights.”
It’s my neighbor. Fuck, what is he doing here? He usually never pays me a visit and I want to be alone with Monique without any disturbances. “Stay quiet,” I murmur, “if we ignore him he might go away.”
Monique removes her hands from my chest, clutching the counter now instead and she has stopped blinking. She’s gone pale. “Maybe we should invite him in,” she whispers so low, I can barely hear her and she starts squirming away from me. “It’s rude ignoring your neighbors, right?”
She gives me a flighty smile. “And I want to meet him, considering we’ll be coming here frequently.”
Hm...she does have a point. I flick her lip with my thumb, groaning, “This is supposed to be just about us.”
Monique lets out a stressed laugh, “It’s not like he’ll be moving in with us. Come on, the more the merrier.”
I’d like to disagree but then my neighbor bangs at the door. “Nero! Man, open up, I need to borrow some salt.”
Fuck it. I’ll open, give him what he wants and then he can leave. I tear my body away from Monique’s and she’s tight as a fist. Poor girl...she needed an orgasm and now she’s been deprived of one. At least the night is young.
6.
Monique
I tremble, watching everything in slow motion as Nero crosses the floor, unlocks the door and opens up. There, on the other side is my ticket out of here. The man appears to be in his early forties, broad shouldered and heavy set with a long beard and his hands are enormous.
That’s good because then he’ll be able to stand a chance against Nero. I go lightheaded at the thought of them fighting but this is not a normal situation.
“What took you so long,” the man grunts. “And what the hell happened to your face...” his eyes slide to mine, “Oh, you got company. Shit, I did not know that. Just hand me the salt and I’ll be out of your way...”
“Stay!” I yelp, with poorly concealed intensity and even Nero turns to look at me in confusion. “Please. Have dinner with us, there’s plenty of food.”
The soup nearly boils over on the stove and I turn it off, vaguely noticing the tremble in my hands and I clench my fist. Nero’s brows are drawn, his shoulders tenser than usual and he drags a palm down his face in annoyance. He wants me to take the invitation back but I don’t.
“Hospitable missus you got,” the man grins, before squeezing past Nero, “don’t mind if I do.” His eyes shine as if he’s thrilled but nobody’s as thrilled as I am. My adrenaline’s racing, making me feel like I’m roasting in my clothes. I’ll have to be smart about this, do anything to increase my chances to get out of here. If I just start running, then the man will be alone with Nero and who knows what Nero will do to him.
“This is Hank,” Nero grits, a muscle ticking in his jaw before he closes the door, “Hank, meet my girlfriend Monique.”
Nodding at Hank, I force a smile and he scratches his curly head, taking off his cap before putting it on backwards. “You seem familiar,” he mutters and my knees go weak. Is my abduction already all over the news? But then he slaps his forehead, “Wait, I know...you’re that dancer from Cirque Du Soleil.”
“The ballet...”
“Right.” He snaps his fingers. “I knew I’d seen you somewhere. My wife was a big fan...”
“That’s so sweet,” I interrupt, flooding with stress hormones, “I’ll write an autograph.”
“She’s deceased,” Nero rasps and he’s been watching the whole interaction with impatience as if his whole night is ruined. Then again, it is because I’m getting out of here. Yes, he makes me feel good and not just physically but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s dangerous. One wrong move from me and he could potentially snap. I’m not willing to stick around and wait for that to happen.
“I’ll write you one anyway, Hank.” I quickly search for a notebook and a pen. “In honor of your wife.”
Hank grunts something, sounding pretty uninterested but I don’t care. I’m going to write that I’m being held hostage and that he needs to call for help. I blink when my sight goes dizzy as my pen flies. If Nero sees this, then I’m dead. Folding the paper in half, I force myself to pretend that I’m cool as a cucumber and then I hand it over to Hank.
“Here you go,” I smile.
His eyes dart but luckily there’s nothing on his face that gives away what he’s reading. Nero reaches out with his hand. “Let me see, I’ve never seen your autograph.”
I tense and so does Hank. “It’s nothing special,” I croak, “Nero, won’t you help me set the table?” I link hands with him, pulling him toward the kitchen to distract him and it works. Glancing over my shoulder, I notice Hank putting the note into his back pocket. His eyes bore into mine and they seem to say,
Little girl, the big, burly man has your back.
My palms go clammy from relief but I’ve already let go of Nero and he doesn’t notice. He takes out the plates and spoons, his mouth grim and every now and then he gives me grumpy glance. “Did you have to invite him?” he mutters, sulking and I take a deep breath.
“I’ll make it up to you later.”
“How? I need details.”
Swallowing, I whisper, “I’m thinking about something that involves my mouth and yours at the same time.” I drag a deep breath, mortified at the sudden heat in my lower belly. “And I’m not talking about kissing.”
His eyes flash dark with intensity as if he’s going to collect no matter what. He gives a nod, confident he’ll get what he wants but I won’t even be here soon. And Nero...I don’t know what will happen to him but I can’t think about that now.
Opening up the drawer, I pull out the breadknife. It’s sharp enough to cause damage. Hank can use it to defend us and only to defend us. I don’t want him to attack Nero unless Nero attacks us first. I make sure to put the bread along with the knife close to Hank but avoid looking him straight in the eyes because I don’t want Nero to suspect anything.
Nero and I sit down opposite him and my head starts pounding. They talk but I barley pay attention to what they’re saying. The soup’s still hot and for a moment I did wonder whether to throw the casserole with hot liquid over Nero but I couldn’t do it. My hands cramped up and then he started saying things, how he felt about me and then we began kissing.