Authors: Miller,Cassie-Ann L.
“Hey, Maddie,” Domenic says with quiet apprehension as he enters the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Hi,” I squeak out.
He stands near the entrance for a moment. “Have you started on these yet?” he asks, motioning to the pile of boxes nearest to the door.
“No.” My glance at him is brief and nervous.
“I’ll get started on them, okay?”
All I do is nod without making eye contact.
Domenic busies himself pulling a box from the top of the pile. He carries it to the end of the conference room table and opens it. He glides out of his suit jacket, tossing it onto a chair before loosening his tie and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal his powerful, tan forearms. He eases into a chair and pulls a file out of the box. With pen in hand, he begins pouring over the documents and making notes on a pad of yellow lined paper.
I fidget uncomfortably in my seat. A crushing sexual energy pulsates throughout the room. I can feel my skin tingling and my entire body feels hot although I can hear the faint hum of the air conditioner whirring in the background. This room is obviously too small to contain all the sexual tension bouncing through my body right now.
I force myself to keep my eyes trained on the documents in front of me but I’m looking at the papers without really seeing them. I can’t help but throw Domenic a sidelong glance every now and then. This overwhelming urge to run my fingers through the soft, glossy curls of his golden hair is completely foreign to me.
This isn’t some irresistible, sex-pot we’re talking about…this is Dom. The kid who stole my Halloween candy from me when I was 12. The guy who walked in on me and Frankie, jumping around on the bed and singing ‘NSYNC songs when we were preteens. This is
He looks up at me suddenly and I scramble to look away before our eyes meet. “Maddie, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say acutely aware of my reddened cheeks and the insistent throbbing between my legs.
He doesn’t look convinced. His eyes linger on my face for a while until he brings them back to the papers in front of him.
We sit around going through the folders and folders of papers for what feels like an eternity. I’ve been shuffling the papers around but honestly, I haven’t gotten very much work done. My flesh has been buzzing all afternoon, keeping me way too distracted to get a meaningful amount of work done.
It isn’t until after 7:00 that Domenic takes a glance at his watch before joining his long arms over his head in a deep, sexy stretch. “I think I’m gonna call it a day,” he says peering out the window as the sun drops slowly behind the city’s skyline.
I gaze over at him for a fraction of a second. “Okay.”
He gathers up his belongings and readjusts his tie before easing over to the door. He stops with his hand on the doorknob and stares at me. “Maddie?”
I look over at him.
“I know that things have been super awkward between us since I…” His voice trails off but I know that he’s referring to his attempts to get me into his bed.
I nod with understanding.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just thought that maybe you might want to…Anyway, you’re my friend and I miss you. I really want things to go back to the way they were before…”
“Me too,” I say softly.
His beautiful blue eyes smile at me. “Hey – I’m in court all day tomorrow, but do you wanna hang out tomorrow night? We could go grab a bite or something.”
“I’d like that.”
Our eyes lock for a moment as silence sweeps over us.
“Good night, Madison.”
“Good night, Domenic.”
And with that, he’s out the door.
I stand on the sidewalk squinting up at the colorful yellow, green and red awning hanging above the entrance. Although the door is closed, I can hear the muffled sounds of meringue music spilling outside. I peek into the Tex-Mex restaurant and spy the red-haired hostess posted by the door wearing a massive straw sombrero as a sweaty waiter – also wearing a sombrero – weaves between the crowded tables, balancing a large tray of colorful cocktails in his hand.
Jeez – this is what I get when I let Domenic choose the restaurant.
It’s just after 8:30 when I step into the dimly-lit resto-bar teeming with rowdy college students. The hostess leads me to a table at the back of the restaurant where I find Domenic chatting and laughing gleefully with the attractive couple at the neighbouring table. He glances my way. He grabs a sombrero from the seat next to him and pulls it onto his head, laughing as he motions me over excitedly. He looks so silly in his business suit and straw hat and ear-to-ear grin.
“Hi,” I say forcing my voice to rise above the sound of the loud music.
“Hey Maddie!” He turns to the couple next to him. “Maddie – This is Carl and Julie. It’s Julie’s birthday.”
They both grin up at me. I wave coyly at them. “Hi. Nice to meet you.” I ease into a wobbly wooden chair and Domenic busies himself telling Carl and Julie about our summer associate positions at the law firm. I take the time to scan the menu, zoning in and out of the conversation. When our grungy-looking, perspiring, college-aged waiter finally swings by, Domenic requests beef taquitos with a Corona beer. I order a chicken burrito with a strawberry-mango daiquiri and join the conversation.
Just then, a mariachi band pops up out of nowhere and starts belting out
to a beaming Julie. Before I know it, Domenic is in the mix singing out of tune, a pair of maracas rattles in hand. I laugh hard, singing and clapping along, musing over how many clichés this place was able to stuff in to the short ten minutes that I’ve been here.
Once the singing is over, Julie is presented with a huge slice of tres leches cake, which she and Carl affectionately feed to each other. When they’re done, they pay the bill and say their goodbyes before walking out of the restaurant hand in hand.
Our drinks arrive and Domenic grins over at me. “Are you having a good time?” He reaches across the table and taps his fingers across the back of my hand. I feel a small burst of electricity race through me – nothing I can’t handle, but enough for me to notice that my body is still reacting to his.
I shrug giving the place a onceover. “It’s fun, but not quite my style.”
“I knew it wouldn’t be your style. That’s why I didn’t let you choose the restaurant this time. I knew that if you got to choose, we’d probably end up at the Saint-Regis or Jean Georges or some other culinary establishment where ‘refined’ individuals like yourself dine.” He speaks in a haughty tone, mocking me in a not-so-subtle way. “I wanted to go somewhere a little less…
“Are you calling me predictable, Domenic?”
“No – I’m saying your taste in food is predictable.”
“That’s pretty much the same thing.”
“Well, they do say that you are what you eat.”
I laugh and jab him playfully in the arm. “At least the restaurants I choose are clean – This place looks like the health inspector skipped a few visits.”
Domenic takes a long gulp of his beer. “It’s part of the vibe – authentic cuisine. Not all pretentious like those prissy restaurants you and Frankie like to go to.”
“Yes, very authentic,” I say sarcastically, eyeing the freckled red-headed hostess who doesn’t appear to have a drop of Latin blood running through her veins.
Just then the waiter comes back with our food. It smells great but as I’m about to dig in, I drop my fork on the floor. The waiter rushes to pick it up. He takes the fork in his sweaty palms, wipes it on his filthy apron and hands it back to me before turning on his heel and heading back towards the kitchen. Dom sits there stunned with his mouth hanging open.
“This is a gastrointestinal disaster waiting to happen,” I mutter scowling at my plate as I push it away from me.
Domenic takes one final swig of beer and grabs me by the hand. “Okay, Maddie – Let’s go.”
After paying our bill and getting the hell out of the filthy restaurant, we ended up dropping by the grocery store across the street from my apartment to pick up the ingredients for tacos. We also got some margarita mix for me and a couple cervezas for Domenic.
Now, we’re in my kitchen fumbling around like the cooking-inept fools that we are.
“You have to put in the meat before you toss the seasonings in the pan –” I yelp as Domenic empties the spicy contents of the small yellow packet into a pot sitting on the stove.
“No – you have to put the seasonings first,” he argues as he skims over the instructions on the packet.
“I’m pretty sure the meat goes in first.”
“Madison – shut up before I drag you back to
He gets me to laugh. “Nothing will ever get me to set foot in that awful restaurant again.”
Forty-five minutes later, we’re lounging around on my living room floor eating flavorless tacos and downing alcohol while watching late-night talk shows. Two hours after that, we’re both stuffed and a bit tipsy.
I lie back on the rug and yawn.
“Tired?” he asks staring at me with a hooded gaze.
I look over at him and nod.
“I should probably get going…” He eases to his feet. He grabs our plates and heads into the kitchen. I follow him, carrying the rest of the dishes. After we’ve loaded everything into the dishwasher and cleaned up the living room, I walk him to the door.
“Tonight was fun, Dom.”
“Yeah – I’m glad we were able to patch things up,” he says as he pulls me in for a hug.
And just like that, the urges that I’ve managed to keep at bay all night are again clawing at me, begging for satisfaction. My skin prickles as he holds my body against his chest. Gosh. He smells so good. My nipples tingle and I ache to tear off the layers of clothing separating his skin from mine. I know he feels what I’m feeling because his breaths sharpen dramatically and I feel his bulge swelling quickly against my stomach.
I push away from him slightly.
We stand there, looking into each other’s eyes. Neither of us says a word. My body is hot with desire and I can literally feel the dampness slickening my panties.
A million emotions course through me. Want. Resistance. Guilt. Shame. Confusion. But most pronouncedly? Desire.
His lips lower slowly to mine. His eyes flutter shut. His breath tickles my nose.
And then, I burst into giggles. Nervous, awkward, school-girl giggles – I mean, this is
. My best friend’s brother. My ex-lover’s best friend. I’ve known him since we were kids. There are so many ways this could go wrong.
His eyes spring open and they’re foggy with lust. Seeing the look on his face sobers me a tad and squelches the giggles. I swallow hard.
I want to this – I want him to kiss me, but I know that if he does, things between us may never be the same again.
It’s as if he’s reading my mind. He cups my cheeks in his palms. “Look at me, Madison.” I struggle to maintain eye contact with him. I can’t bear the thought of him knowing how much I want this. He presses his hands into my face. His voice is so low and husky. “Look at me,” he insists.
I stare up into the charming face of my childhood friend, at the features that are so familiar to me. The softness in his blue eyes. The gentle curls in his golden blond hair. The ripeness of his plush lips.
That’s when I notice it.
There’s something more in his eyes tonight. A glint that tells me that he wants me in his bed. A glint that promises that he’ll be fierce and passionate once he gets me there. There’s a beast hidden beneath the beauty. And he’s aching to take my body in a savage and primal way.
I whimper at the thought of it.
He strokes his finger down my cheek. “Just relax, Maddie…Have I ever hurt you? Ever?” I shake my head slowly. “Okay, so just trust me for a minute…one minute.”
My body tenses as I suck in a deep breath. His eyes flicker shut again and instinctively, mine do too.
His lips brush against mine.
Ooh…his lips are so soft I could melt. His kiss is slow and lazy and sultry. The way his mouth grazes mine ever-so-gently. The way his tongue strokes softly into my mouth. The way he nibbles tenderly on my lips. He’s doing so little but making me feel so much.
I grip the lapels of his suit jacket as he pulls my blouse free from my skirt to run his big, warm hands up and down my back. My sex spasms and my pebbled nipples throb for him as he runs his tongue slowly back and forth along my bottom lip.
“Domenic,” I groan quietly into his mouth as my hands run down his solid chest.
He eases away from me and runs his index finger down the side of my face. “Good night, Madison.”
Flustered and tongue-tied, I wrap my arms tightly around my body feeling utterly electrified as he slips out the door.