Making Ends Meet (Closed for Endless_Night)

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Making Ends Meet...

Dave was conflicted. As he pulled into the high end apartment garage, he began thinking of the night and weekend ahead. Easing into his private parking spot near the elevator, he sat for a moment, the radio barely audible as he contemplated his options. The scheduled evening included a shower and cold beer to unwind before heading over to pick up Lisa for dinner at Rafael's. It was the happening place to eat. To be. To be seen. And Lisa was certainly part of that scene. She was a model of sorts. Tall, leggy, blonde and busty with a closet full of outfits to highlight her assets. She was not a model in the classic sense but her work was study and paid exceptionally well. She had made her contacts at the local chamber of commerce and rushed to the top of the list of models used to greet visiting dignitaries at the airport, CEOs looking to move their companies and patrons at the latest grand opening for high end night clubs and restaurants.

Turning the key, David stepped out of the new dark blue BMW and ambled to the elevator. Pressing the up arrow, he began to reflect on his time with Lisa. She was the third model he dated in the last year. Dated was not really the word for what they did. They were not exclusive, at least he wasn't, as he bounced around, back and forth with the lot while waiting for someone to grab his attention. Oh they were attractive and all. And more than willing to do whatever he wanted, afraid of being rejected and labeled difficult or snooty. The kiss of death in the closed world of modeling. Deep down, they were all too insecure for him. The door opened and he stepped in, hit the "9" button and watched blankly as the elevator rode to the top floor.

The doors opened silently as he stepped out into the hallway. Looking down the hallway towards his apartment, he saw the woman across the hall emerge from hers. She was making a lot of noise and seemed especially disjointed today. Dave had only barely noticed her before. They seemed to keep different hours and rarely saw each other. And they had never really spoken save for the occasional hello in passing. For perhaps the first time, he watched her. Actually watched her. And surveyed what he saw as she rushed towards him, her head down as she continued fumbling with her purse. She was of average height. Maybe 5'7" or 5'8" he guessed. Trim build, probably fit. Mid length dark blonde hair and average sized breasts held high in a tight fitting long sleeve shirt and every day jeans. She barely noticed him as she brushed by half way to the elevator. As he reached his door, Dave turned to see the woman as she stood at the elevator waiting for it to return. Her jeans seemed to hug her hips and frame her ass nicely. A nice round ass indeed. The doors opened as she stepped inside, turned, pushed a button and glanced up to see him watching her as the doors closed and she disappeared. And with that, she was gone. Dave shrugged his shoulders, as if to himself, then slid the key into the door.

Reflecting on the last 'date' with Lisa, he wondered if he was really up for it. The last time they went out, it was to a club. They danced, were seen by all the other pretty people in town and had a generally good time before returning to her place. He led her through the door and headed straight for her bar, pouring himself a scotch before plopping on the couch and turning on the TV. It was as if it was his place and not hers. She plopped down next to him and kissed him with what she thought was a passionate kiss. He might have used another word. She really wanted him. She always did. She slid her hand inside his shirt, rubbing his chest playfully before dropping her hand and rubbing his crotch aggressively through his slacks. His cock responded of course, thickening and swelling although he often wished he could turn it off. She slid down on her knees in front of him and proceeded to unbutton his belt, unzip his slacks and engulf his cock. She was enthusiastic to be sure. But skilled? Not so much. Dave laughed to himself at the thought. As much cock as this tramp has sucked, you would think she would be better at it. After she was done, he had made an excuse for needing to leave, zipping himself up and walking out without so much as a good night kiss.

Tossing his sport coat onto the couch, he walked to the kitchen to grab himself a beer and returned to the couch, grabbing the remote. The beer was cold and refreshing as he surfed along, looking for something to grab and hold his attention. He paused on a sports channel to see what teams were playing. Basketball, NBA. Looked like the Oklahoma City Thunder and the Houston Rockets. Could be a good game. Dave liked both teams and it seemed to be close and fast paced heading into the fourth quarter. Suddenly his phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, he could see it was Lisa and a sense of disgust came over him. In the end, he really was not up for another disappointing ending to another uninteresting evening. He just glanced numbly at the screen as the call went to voice mail. Fuck it. he would call her back in a few and make up some lame excuse and bail on the evening plans. He would rather watch the game and just chill.

The game was close with the lead changing back and forth as the game worked into the middle of the fourth quarter. And yet, he really was not watching the game. Dave's mind kept wandering back to the woman across the hall. The women with the nice ass. The neighbor he didn't even know. How could that be? How could he have a neighbor and not know her? He was a good looking man, easy going and friendly to all. But he had never really spoken to the woman before. Much less talked to her. Or even taken notice before. So why now? Whatever he thought. No need hooking up with a neighbor. If he thought his relationship with Lisa was awkward, he could only imagine a strained relationship with the woman across the hall.

He held the phone and hit the redial button... "Hello?" she answered with a hint of expectation in her voice.

"Hey Lisa, it's Dave. Look, I'm really not in the mood tonight OK? I had a shitty day (it was a lie but he hoped she would get the hint) and I'm really not in the mood for company. Maybe some other time".

"Dave, it's OK. We don't have to go out"". She left the comment hanging. "Why don't I just come over. Maybe I can help you feel better." Another pregnant pause. "You know, like last time. I can pick up a pizza and be over in thirty minutes. I even have a new dress I want to show you."

She was clearly not getting the hint. Time to be more blunt. "Look Lisa, I don't want any company tonight. Not even yours. Maybe another time. I don't know." And he hung up without waiting for a reply or another plea. Fuck her. He just didn't want to be with her. Not tonight for certain. Maybe never. He was done with her. And with that, he turned his attention back to the game...

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Samantha stared at her cell phone, willing it to ring. It sat on the dark granite of the countertop, resolutely, and indifferently, silent. Nearly an hour past the time Cindy had promised to call.

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. How had she gotten herself into such a mess? And what on earth was she to do?

Do not cry. Do. Not. Cry.

She blinked a couple of times, fighting back tears, and took a deep breath. It had been the height of idiocy to let Cindy talk her into taking such an expensive apartment. Even sharing the rent, the one bedroom was at the very top of her price range. And Cindy, while normally a great friend, was…a little unreliable.

Okay. Samantha nudged the phone with a resentful finger. Unreliable might be an understatement. Whether it be quitting jobs, dumping guys, or moving across country, Cindy could be relied upon to make decisions at the drop of a hat, and usually at great inconvenience to everyone else.

Frowning, Samantha tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. She’d never thought Cindy would leave her in such a lurch. Going home with a guy picked up in one of the cities hot nightclubs was not surprising behavior, hopping a private jet and taking off for Europe was something else again. Particularly when leaving your best friend staring into the gaping maw if a financial abyss.

It’s your own fault. Samantha sighed. Quite true, she should have known better than to take such a financial risk, no matter how enticing.

Abandoning her lifeless phone, she walked the couch and collapsed into her favorite corner. Curling into a ball, she automatically tugged a fringed chenille throw onto her lap for comfort.

Six months now. Two months with a roommate and now six as a single tenant. Time enough for her to run through most of her savings paying the rent in it’s exorbitant entirety. She sighed again, glancing around the luxurious appointed apartment. It was beautiful, no doubt about it. Granite, stainless steel, and floor to ceiling windows offering a phenomenal view.

It was the view from the corner unit that had done her in. Cindy had talked her into an early evening view, when the lights from the city formed a second layer of starry sky. The memory prompted her to take a quick peak; dusk was just falling.

Still pretty amazing.

The corners of her mouth curved into a smile. She sat there, enjoying an all too brief moment of serenity. As the last vestiges of light drained away, she pulled the throw up to her chin and frowned. Beautiful it might be, but it was a view she couldn’t afford.

Five months left on a thirteen month lease. Samantha caught her lower lip her teeth. Even on her own she might have managed, if the universe hadn’t, with it’s own warped sense of humor, decided to strike another blow.

The small, independent lab she’s worked for the last five years had upped and closed: no layoffs, no cutbacks, no warning, nearly a month ago. In one fell swoop she’d been left without savings and jobless.

At that point it was too late to find another roommate, something she should have done months ago. But honestly, she really thought Cindy’s romantic fling would be short-lived. Besides, she wiggled uncomfortably, living with a stranger would have been difficult, even if she could have found someone interested in sharing a bedroom. Unlikely.

If only she’d managed to find a job quicker. A wave of panic washed over her, making her lip tremble. Little employment had been available in the small lab environment she preferred. She was now having to branch out into larger markets, hospital and schools with sizable funding. A job would come, she was more than qualified, but those types of employers were mired in red tape. It would take a couple of months, at least, for paperwork to go through once she’d actually been hired.

Borrowing was out of the question. No bank would touch her now, with no job. Her parents were dead, her one sibling out of touch. Most of her friends had worked with her at the lab and were now struggling with their own financial problems.

Mark. She pushed the thought away quickly, before it could take root. Under no circumstances was she going to take money from her ex-boyfriend. Particularly Mark. He would see it as an opportunity to rekindle their relationship, and much as she cared for him that was just not going to happen.

Men. Samantha burrowed deeper under the cover. Why was she so bad at them? Either she picked aggressive, domineering types, who, incidentally never seemed to be solvent or even remotely emotionally stable, or sweet, passive, boring types. The former, she was quick to move on from. The latter, while responsible and kind, were not men she could see spending the rest of her life with. Neither was a good match.

Mark fell into the latter category, and she knew he’d rush to help. The easy road lay before her, temptingly en prise…. Samantha tossed the blanket aside and jumped to her feet, wandering restlessly over to the windowscape.

No. She set her chin. This mess really was her own fault. A bad financial decision, followed by procrastination, followed by a little bad luck. There had to be a way to work things out.

She shot the phone a resentful glare. How could Cindy leave her in such desperate straits? And all for a new guy. She never would understand her friend’s bed hopping. Sex just…wasn’t all that interesting once the newness wore off. And considering how long it took her to get comfortable with a new lover, there was a relatively small window where the physical act seemed worth the trouble.

Samantha stared blankly out the window for a time, thinking unprofitable thoughts. Shivering roused her eventually. Worried about the bill, she’d been keeping the heat turned way down. She glanced down at her tee shirt and panties; hardly suitable attire for early autumn.

“Time to change,” she announced to the world at large.

There was one option left, two really. The first entailed a trip to a pawn shop. Her mother’s wedding ring would bring in enough to, hopefully, let her make rent tomorrow. The second option should be a little less emotionally wrenching. There was a small coffee shop housed on the first floor of her building. With a little luck maybe she could pick up some hours, a little money to tide her over while she sent out resumes. At this point even minimal tips would help.

Ten minutes later she stood out in the hall, clutching the ring in one hand while struggling to lock the door with the other. The door stuck, refusing to close. Exasperated she pulled on it to no avail. Samantha could feel her anxiety start to rise. Couldn’t something go right? Just once?

It's just a door.

The mental reminder steadied her, and she made herself take a couple of deep breaths. The last thing she needed was an anxiety attack. A new occurrence over the last couple of months, and one she intended to get under control as quickly as possible. She allowed herself to lean agains the door frame, to give support to her suddenly shaky legs.

It’s your own fault.

The reminder didn’t help much, no matter how true. A call to the office would bring up maintenance, but she couldn’t bring herself to put in the work order. With the very real possibility of not being able to pay this month’s rent, the thought of calling the desk made her cringe guiltily.

This is all going to work out.

Repetition of the phrase had become her mantra. She leaned her forehead against the cool metal of the door. Not that her little ritual seemed to be helping so far, but it certainly couldn’t hurt. A giggle escaped at her own absurdity.

The elevator opened. Embarrassed, she dropped her keys. It was her tall, well-dressed neighbor. The one she barely passed hellos with in the hall.

He was attractive enough, handsome even, if you liked the disdainful type. She didn’t really. In her experience they were so often critical and impatient of others, a type that brought out her insecurities. He was always perfectly polite, if reserved, but he somehow made her nervous. His manner came across as aloof, possibly a little cold, a little calculating, and possibly just a little ruthless. What was his name, Don, Dave, Dan? She rubbed her forehead. Something that started with a D, anyway.

Besides, he seemed to be a modelizer. Different ones, and apparently on a rotating basis. She’d run into his most recent flavor of the month in the hall a few times. Her lip curled slightly as she remembered the most recent encounter. Vapid, impolite, and probably not too bright. The sort of women who viewed other women as either competition or write-offs.

Just the type an egoist like her confident, attractive neighbor would prefer. The thought made her unreasonably angry. She jerked the door closed with a bang and flipped the lock.

Breath. Samantha forced herself to walk past him, heading to the elevator. She didn’t have time to think about neighbors. Pawn shop tonight, pay rent and the cafe first thing in the morning.

She glanced up and caught her neighbor watching her as the doors to the elevator closed. For some reason the knowledge sent a little shiver down her back.
 
It wasn't until his beer was empty that Dave realized he wasn't really watching the game. In fact, he didn't even know who was winning or even what quarter it was. He was just staring blankly ahead. Half asleep and half day dreaming about this and that. Work - it had been a good week and he closed another big deal. which in turn meant another big commission check. And another reason to celebrate. But how? With whom? He wondered if Lisa was crying over his rejection tonight. It didn't matter. He was in no mood to celebrate with her. What about her hot friend Katy. Or was it Kathy? Maybe it was Kristin. Whatever her name was, she was hot. But probably equally uninteresting. And occasionally, his mind wandered back to the neighbor. For whatever reason, he was suddenly curious about her. Not attracted really. Just... Interested. Who was she? What was her deal? What did she do? Did she date? Was she gay maybe? He thought he remembered another woman there. Taller. Brunette he thought. Maybe. And why was he thinking about them? About her all of the sudden? Thinking back, there was nothing especially noteworthy about her. Sure, she had a nice ass. But lots of girls have nice asses. Lisa had a nice ass too. Ugh. But there was something that caught his eye. He struggled for a moment trying to imagine what it was. And then he realized. It was the look on her face as the elevator doors closed. She had seen him watching her. But there was something in her face. Her expression. She looked... Troubled maybe?

Whatever. It was still early. And he really wasn't watching the game. He needed some fresh air. And another beer. He walked over to the fridge, grabbed another beer and walked out onto his balcony overlooking the trendy area below his loft. The night was warm, with a light breeze blowing and the courtyard below was teaming with nightlife and all the pretty people in town. It really was the area to be. The place to be seen. Young people darting this way and that between the movie theater, the countless restaurants, the coffee shops, the open air bars and the high end boutiques for those with rich husbands, boy friends or sugar daddies. People watching was a favorite past time and he really was not looking for company. But he was bored and he did need another drink. He walked back inside, grabbed his sport coat off the back of the couch, set his half empty beer on the small table by the door and headed out. The elevator arrived in short order and quickly whisked him down to the parking garage. He wasn't driving anywhere. He could have easily hopped off on the ground floor between the Starbucks on the left and the open air bar Trendz on the right. But he wanted to exit from the parking garage. The better to survey the scene and decide where he wanted to sit and relax.

Dave stepped out of the stale garage into the warm night air as a trio of young women approached. Too young to be hanging out here after dark, they were headed back home to the safety of their parent’s house. He waited by the door as they approached, holding it open for them. They were clearly amused and giggled as they stepped through the door and disappeared into the darkness of the garage. Dave just shook his head in amusement as he proceeded around the corner and merged into the lazy pedestrian traffic he observed from his apartment balcony only moments ago. He seemed to be swimming upstream into what he assumed was a crowd leaving the movie theater at the far end of the complex. Scanning back and forth, he noticed a young couple paying their tab at an outdoor corner table at one of the bars. The place was called Mo's and it was one of the few places he had never visited. He mingled about in the walkway waiting for them to clear away from the table and then promptly sat down before anyone else could grab the choice spot. The table was small, which was fine since he was alone. It was in the corner of the patio, away from the crowded tables filled with loud folks enjoying their evening. It was the perfect place to people watch, a favorite past time of his since moving into the busy complex.

He was watching a young couple having some kind of argument just out of earshot. He apparently had said or done something she didn't like, she got pissed and started making a scene and now he was trying to apologize. Probably not really apologizing so much as trying to shut her up before she really started embarrassing him in front of a crowd. Of course, there was no way to really know what was going on between the two, but he had seen enough of these spats to be pretty sure he had them pegged. Hell, he had BEEN in enough similar arguments to know what was going and how it was going to end.

"Good evening." Dave turned to see a lovely young, busty brunette in black stretch pants with a white tank top intentionally too small to contain her ample breasts further highlighted with a push up bra typical of the waitresses in the area. It was so common as to nearly be an officially uniform.

"Well good evening to you too." he said politely, finishing with a classic Dave Patterson smile. The smile perfected over years of selling high tech gadgets and flirting with cute young women. "How are you this evening?"

"I am very well thank you. Can I get you something while you look over the menu?"

"I won't be eating but I would like a Grey Goose and Tonic with two limes."

"Coming right up." And with that, she turned and was gone. Dave turned back to face the walkway and just watched. In no time at all, his drink was delivered by a different waitress that could have been the fist's twin sister. This town was crawling with beautiful women he thought as he took a long pull of his drink. It was strong, cold and refreshing. Just what he needed. He had just wrapped a long week at the office but he felt both rested and relaxed as he watched the night play out before him....
 
What now?

Samantha leaned back against the rough brick of the pawn’s shop exterior. Taking a few moments to steady herself seemed like a good idea. It was bad enough pawning her mother’s engagement ring, taking a pittance for it was devastating.

She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, willing the threatening headache to disappear. A few deep breaths steadied her, and after jamming her hard won cash into the pocket of her jeans, she started towards home.

Not home for much longer. The unpleasant thought brought reality rushing back. How was she going to pay tomorrow’s rent?

Her ring hadn’t realized as much as she’d hoped. Even with her severance from the lab she was still short the necessary funds. Would the office let her pay late? Would she even have the nerve to ask? Even if so, in a ritzy place like the Slade late fees were bound to be exorbitant.

She wrapped her arms tight around her body. Cold and fear were working together to send little shivers over her torso. A tension headache was starting to pulse at the base of her skull.

Call Mark. Samantha bit her lip. It was the last thing she wanted to do. Her sense of obligation and guilt might easily trap her back into a relationship. There had to be another way.

The walk from her building to the pawn shop had only taken a quarter of an hour. Her return was slower. The streets were crowded with foot traffic as the evening crowd took to the restaurants and bars that made the area so walkable, so desirable. With no plan in mind, she wandered, allowing the crowd to carry her along.

Her thoughts also wandered. Could she pawn something else? The shop’s contents had been eclectic. Worrying her bottom lip, a nervous habit, she tried to recall some of the items on display. Nothing came to mind. She’d been too distracted to take note of much.

Sighing, she resigned herself to making a trek back in the morning when the place opened. Maybe, somehow, she could come up with enough money to make rent. Would it be wrong to pawn something of Cindy’s? Samantha allowed herself a regretful snort. Absolutely. No matter how satisfying it might be in the short run.

Running one hand over the pocket of her jeans, she checked on her money. All the stress of the last few months had sent her anxiety skyrocketing. Since she’d lost her job, annoying little habits were surfacing. Checking and rechecking things she’d done.

You need to relax. No kidding.

Samantha forced herself to look around and take not of her surroundings. Anything to get out of her head. Couples. Couples everywhere. Some happy, arms linked, smiling faces turned towards each other. Others, less enamored, together, but separate in their own personal space. Even a few arguing, all angry eyes and voices.

She huddled a little tighter under the thin, clingy fabric of her light sweater. Somehow even the angry ones heightened her sense of aloneness, of isolation. Morbid thoughts, particularly when she preferred being single. Relationships required so much work, compromises that never seemed to benefit either partner.

A trio brushed against her heavily, breaking Samantha’s concentration. Ahead stood the theatre, which, judging by the surging crowd, had just let out a show. Somehow she’d wandered past the entrance to her building without even realizing.

Go home. Go to bed. Call Mark in the morning.

She winced and hunched her shoulders. At this point it didn’t see she had much choice.

The bodies kept coming, pushing her against the edge of the main thoroughfare. The next surge had her bumping against a chair. Automatically, she turned to apologize.

“Oh!” Samantha stared, surprised. Dave, her neighbor sat at the table.

“Hello.” The single word was accompanied with, what was clearly, a well practiced smile.

His confident tone, faintly tagged with amusement, flipped her apologetic mood to one of vague annoyance. “Hello.” The ungracious edge to her voice brought a faint flush of color to her face and neck.

The amusement became more pronounced; she could swear his lips twitched. “Would you care to join me.”

She opened her mouth to refuse when another group crammed against her. Ugh. “Thanks.” Casting a smile in his general direction, she sat down abruptly. As soon as the movie goers dispersed she’d politely excuse herself and leave.

Dave, she was pretty sure it was Dave, leaned back in his chair. Without looking up, she could feel him studying her. It made her uncomfortable.

“Would you like something to drink?”

Alcohol. Probably not the best idea on an empty stomach. She’d been far to upset earlier to even think of eating. “No, thank you.”

The silence stretched uncomfortably. Samantha cleared her throat, trying to think of something to say. A few minutes casual conversation and she could bolt for the haven - however temporary - of her apartment. “How do you like living at the Slade?”

“Quite well,” he said, smiling.

She glanced up to find his hazel eyes assessing her face.

“And yourself?”

The question, while hardly unreasonable in the circumstances, flustered her. “It’s nice. I’ll probably be moving soon.”

Now why did she say that?

The last thing she wanted was her modelizing, condescending neighbor to know how inept she was at handling her finances. Nervously, she clasped her hands together, only to realize she was crumpling the pawn ticket still held in one hand.

Damn.

Panic danced along her nerves. Would the shop honor damage tickets? Surreptitiously, Samantha tried to smooth the crumpled paper. She certainly didn’t want her neighbor to know she was reduced to pawning things.

Looking up, she found his glance fixed on her hands. Her stomach plunged with embarrassment.

Time to leave.

Samantha jumped to her feet and confusedly offered her hand. “Thank you, but I have to go.”
 
"No, no. Please stay. I insist." He offered with a sharp tone of authority as if he could not be denied. "We are neighbors for God's sake. And we have hardly said hello. I don't even know your name."

She stopped at the sudden firm tone in his voice. Was he 'ordering' her to stay? She stood confused trying to figure out what to do. But her hand had already been played. He did order her to sit down. And like an obedient little dog, she stopped dead in her tracks. It would have been difficult for her to turn and continue leaving now.

"Please." His tone, much softer and gentler now. "Sit. Have one drink with me. And tell me your name." Was that another order? She wondered. But the sharpness in his tone was gone. She was a basket case of nerves. Not knowing whether she was coming or going. An emotional wreck with no end in sight. The stress had taken a toll on her and she looked and felt far from her normal attractive and pleasant self. Maybe one drink would help her sleep. And she was exhausted, desperately needing a night of sleep free from her fears. He 'was' offering. Which meant it was free. She could use a drink. And she really could not afford one. Especially not here.

"It would be a shame if you moved out and I never even knew your name" he said, his eyes now soft and inviting. He leaned back in the chair casually as if to suggest he was no threat.

"OK. But just one drink. I really cannot stay" she said trying to give herself an easy out as soon as she could.

"Excellent! What'll you have?" he said with a slight smile. He had won the round. He knew it. And she knew it. And he knew she knew. It was always easy for Dave. To make women feel at ease around him. To convince them to do what he wanted. Whatever he wanted...

"Ummm I guess a vodka cranberry maybe." She was insecure and could barely get it out.

"Excellent!" He said again as he waved the waitress over. If nothing else, Dave would get another good look at the hot little coed with the pushup bra and the whispery thin tank top.

"Yes sir." she said with a strange tone of respect. Almost admiration. As if she would get him 'anything' he wanted, even her. If only he would ask for THAT...

"The pretty lady will have a Grey Goose and cranberry" He said, nodding in Samantha's direction without taking his eyes off of the waitress'.

"Of course sir. Coming right up." She offered him a slight nod, as if offering her amble breasts for one more look before she turned and was gone.

Dave admired the tight little ass in black stretch pants as she hurried off to the bar before turning and setting his gaze back on his neighbor. For an uncomfortable moment, he just stared at her. She was not all made up. In fact, she looked exhausted. And yet, he could see a special beauty in her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, hunching her shoulders together to ward off the cool night air. She was wearing a light sweater. Obviously not thick enough to keep her warm tonight. Dave loved the onset of fall, The cool breezes causing perky little nipples to stand at attention all over town. And his neighbors were no different. He had long ago mastered the art of looking a woman in the eyes while still be able to focus his attention elsewhere. With her shoulders closed off, he could tell a lot about what was hiding underneath. Her breasts were not large. But they were not small either. And they appeared to be firm, topped with small erect nipples that just looked to be begging for attention.

Suddenly, thoughts of Lisa were miles away. The woman in front of him suddenly intrigued him. Why? He was not sure. Butt he was curious about her. He may very well tire of her as quickly as he had Lisa, but for the moment, he wanted to know what she was all about. He had seen her walking up, part of the crowd before she bumped into him. She looked dazed. As if in a trance. When she first plopped down, she had done so as if defeated or resigned to some undesirable fate. And what about her nervous hand wringing? Or the pawn ticket she had tried to hide? Yes, he had seen it. He had seen a lot she didn't know. And what about her talk of moving soon? He remembered when she moved in across the hall. What had it been? Three months maybe? Her lease could not have been up already. And she didn't look like she had suddenly taken a new job that would require relocating. That would have made her happy. Excited. Smiling. Not dejected, with a pawn ticket in her hand. Who was this woman?

The busty waitress returned with the drink, leaning over far more than necessary and winking at Dave before rising up and leaving without so much as a word. The woman reached across the table to take the drink when Dave reached forward quickly and firmly grabbed her hand. "Oh no. Not so fast." The woman just stared at his hand holding her wrist before looking up, fear in her eyes. "You get your drink when you tell me your name." And with that, he released her wrist and leaned back in his chair casually, a shit eating grin spreading across his face...
 
What was she doing?

Samantha stared at her hands, trying to gather her composure, while Dave ordered her drink. Had he actually ordered her to sit down? Surely not. Surely she’d just…misunderstood.

She risked a quick glance at his profile. He looked perfectly at ease. Resentment washed over her in an angry rush.

How dare he order her around? But had he? Confusion overrode resentment. And why had she sat down so promptly? A blush crept steadily up her cheeks. She’d actually stopped at his tone, then sat down obediently at the table, just as though she had no mind of her own.

How acutely embarrassing. She tried, unsuccessfully, not to actively writhe in the chair.

Her fingers rasped against paper. The pawn ticket was still clutched in her hand. Freshly horrified, she took advantage of her companion’s distraction and slid the ticket into her back pocket.

“Of course, sir. Coming right up.” The waitress said, arching her neck and shoulders to present her breast to best advantage. Dave’s self-satisfied smile made it clear he appreciated the view.

A player. The reminder steadied her, and allowed a vague contempt to fight down embarrassment. She had no interest in the type, overconfident men who viewed women as expendable pursuits. And they had no interest in her, she reminded herself. She certainly felt no need to please, had no interest in being pursued.

Breathe. You’re going to be fine.

She sat up a little straighter, pressing her back against the seat. Two more deep breaths steadied her even more. One quick drink and she’d be off. A good night’s rest would level her emotional state, she was…merely overtired. The assurance fell a little short as she remembered how quick she’d been to respond to his command. And there’s been something else. A little frisson of excitement in the pit of her stomach.

Samantha ran her hands down her thighs in agitation. Sleep was definitely in order. When a virtual stranger’s voice aroused her it was time to go to bed. Wait.... That wasn’t quite what she meant.

Glancing up she found him looking at her, an assessing, almost serious look on his face. The concentrated attention brought back all her discomfort. Shifting in her chair, she tried to act at ease. Difficult, between his stare and the increasing chill in the air.

A shiver wrapped around her back and chest. The cold, no doubt. She tugged down her sleeves to cover her hands. Foolish to leave the house without something heavier, but dressing appropriately for the weather in the face of her errand had simply not crossed her mind. Sadness ruffled the edge of her calm as she thought of her lost ring.

Her neighbor’s continued interest didn’t help. His eyes never left her face, but it was as though she could feel his gaze wandering down her body. The silence stretched, awkwardly. She willed herself still, fighting the urge to wriggle uncomfortably at his inspection. It was with relief she saw the return of their waitress, even if the woman did bend low over the table to provide a view down her top for Dave.

Whatever. Samantha intended to drink her drink and make her excuses. Bed and a good night’s sleep were her agenda, far away from disturbing, overbearing neighbors and flirtatious servers.

As soon as the waitress departed she stretched out a hand. Before she could react, Dave intercepted the move, taking her wrist in a firm grip.

What….

Full blown panic set in as arousal shot like little pulses of of electricity to all her erogenous zones. Shaken, and just a little frightened, Samantha stared at Dave.

"You get your drink when you tell me your name.” He made the demand almost casually, before releasing her and settling back into his chair.

Samantha continued to stare, shocked at both her response to his physical contact and his words. Was he serious?

His smug smile told her he was. Confusion and anger warred for control. Anger won. For a brief, wholly satisfying moment, the urge to toss the drink in his face nearly overwhelmed her shaky control. One second, two, and practicality intervened.

Could she really deal with a scene? Her breath caught a little at the thought. She swayed slightly, her body reminding her of it’s exhaustion. No, she was far too unnerved and fragile to deal with any kind of public turmoil.

Self doubt assailed her, as it did so often of late. Had she done something rude, to make him make such a demand? She caught her lower lip in her teeth. Maybe she’d been ungracious? Or hadn’t thanked him.

Had she?

Honestly, at this point she didn’t know. She’d certainly resented how he’d maneuvered her into staying. Too tired, too uncertain. Would it be rude to just leave the drink?

Politeness won out. “Samantha.”

If possible, Dave’s grin widened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Was it wrong to wish someone dead? Almost certainly, and just one more thing to feel guilty about. Samantha stared at her wrist; the spot his fingers had touched still tingled.

Instinct urged her to avoid trouble and exit the situation. Quickly. Resolutely, her eyes met his. “Samantha.”

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her companion leaned in to slide her drink forward, keeping his hand around the glass.

Did he expect her to take it from him? She stared, aghast. No way was she engaging in more physical contact. An urge to bolt from the table took hold.
 
He watched her closely as he slid the drink towards her, keeping his hand on the glass like a chess piece he wasn't quite committed to placing. She sat there frozen. Her gaze set on the glass and body language locked and stiff. It was not the reaction he expected. As if she didn't trust him. Or was it lack of trust in herself? He couldn't tell. She seemed to be working something through her mind. Something serious, as if she were trying to decide the fate of the world. It was just a drink…

Perhaps he was intimidating her. Releasing the glass, he grabbed his own and leaned back in his seat, giving her some space. “I’m Dave by the way.” He said as he slowly raised his glass in a toasting gesture.

She finally moved her gaze from the glass to him, studying him as if deciding if he was a danger to her. Another cool breeze rushed over her as she reached out and took the glass holding it in both hands. Still not taking a drink.

“To neighbors.” Dave announced, still holding his glass high, waiting for her to return the gesture. As if it pained her to do so, Samantha slowly raised her glass, half way, before bringing it to her lips, taking a tentative sip. It was cold which did not sit well with her chill, but it tasted good. The warmth of the liquor warming her throat as she swallowed. She then took another, longer drink, savoring the flavor and spreading warmth. She could feel herself relaxing slightly, something she desperately needed.

“See? Was that so difficult?” He said half mocking her. This was one uptight woman. She wasn't unpleasant necessarily. She was just so closed off. Which is not something he was accustomed to. He was always relaxed and never had trouble getting women to talk to him. But this woman, Samantha, she was different. Dave was thinking she might have some serious issues. And that was not something he wanted to deal with. He was in the process of dumping Lisa simply because she was boring. The last thing he needed was a woman with ‘issues’. Still, there was something about her that intrigued him. She was attractive. But more than that, he saw some inner beauty in her. Almost as if she were trying to hide it. He wondered what else she were hiding under her guarded exterior.

“It’s a shame really. We are neighbors and only just now getting to know each other on a first name basis. And now you are moving did you say?”

Dave could swear, he could see the liquor working its way through her. With each sip of the drink, Samantha’s stiffness seemed to give way. First her head raised from a locked down position to looking him in the face. Even looking around the mingling crowd. Her shoulders releasing their grip as her arms seem to relax and her rigid posture slowly giving way. She was not exactly leaning back in her chair, but he could see her ‘warming’ up to him.

She mumbled something about her roommate moving and needing to find a one bedroom place somewhere. Dave wondered. He knew the places across the hall were two bedroom lofts. His was the same size, but only one bedroom with much larger open areas and large balcony looking out over the complex. But he also remembered seeing the pawn ticket in her hand earlier. You do not casually stop by the pawn shop. You only pawn something when you are in dire straits. So what was the real story here? He wondered.

“It’s nice to meet you Dave. And thanks for the drink. But I’m afraid it’s a little cold for me out here and I really need to go.” She said as she started to slide her chair back. It was clear she was set on leaving.

“OK. But wait two seconds and I’ll walk back with you.” He signaled for the waitress and let her know he needed to cash out. Standing with her, he slipped his sport coat off and walked around to her, raising it to wrap around her shoulders.

“Oh no thank you. I’m fine. Really.” She said as she tried to politely decline his offer.

“Nonsense. You need to learn to accept offers from others.” He said as he draped his jacket gently over her shoulders.

The waitress came and dropped off the tab. $12 for two drinks thanks to happy hour prices. Dave reached into his pocket and casually dropped a twenty on the table as he turned back to Samantha and gestured with his hand out, palm open as if you say ‘after you.’
 
Pull yourself together.

She steadied herself, gripping the back of the chair with both hands. The alcohol, while possibly not the best idea on an empty stomach, had warmed her considerably. A pleasant glow suffused her body, and was apparently making her receptive to physical contact.

That’s all it was. The alcohol.

One drink was enough to dim her anxiety and worry, they still lingered, but at a manageable distance. Dave might not be her type, but considering her physical reaction to his touch, it didn’t seem wise to engage in further interaction. Particularly when her responses were so unpredictable.

Samantha watched him unobtrusively while he dealt with the waitress, wondering the best way to put him off seeing her home. Seeing his fingers delving into his wallet, recalled his brief hold on her wrist. The memory conjured a second confusing little flutter, in which pleasure and fear mingled equally.

He’s just offering to walk you home.

The reminder didn’t help much. At this point she was more worried about her own reactions than she was any impropriety of his part.

Why was that?

She considered, trying to make sense of her responses. Dave was…nicer than she’d expected. Once he’d quit crowding her, she actually found herself enjoying his company. His quick wit and humor appealed, as did his ability to converse on a diverse range of topics. The noise of the crowd faded into a pleasant drone while they talked. Her shoulder muscles actually started to relax, for the first time in what seemed like months.

Samantha arched her neck experimentally. Definitely looser.

He hadn’t pressed her about her reasons for moving. And if he’d seen the pawn ticket, he’d at least been polite enough to not mention the fact. He was still a player and a little too sure of himself, but Dave wasn’t as shallow as he first appeared.

Samantha suppressed an urge to giggle. She’d obviously been mistaken in thinking he’d ordered her around. Her nerves were shot, not surprising she was imagining things. A good night’s sleep would put her to rights.

Until the morning trip to the pawn shop.

Resolutely, she batted the unpleasant thought away. Tonight she would quit worrying. Time enough tomorrow to fret about the future.

Still, she continued to study him while he slid his wallet into his back pocket, best not to get too friendly with her neighbor. She really didn’t want to involve him, or anyone else, in her troubles.

Samantha hesitated, still trying to think of an excuse. Dave was too quick for her, he paid the bill and left a tip before she could could marshal her thoughts. A generous tip, she noted. It was the generosity that decided her. Before finishing her degrees she’d worked as a waitress. Even now she tended to assess people by how well they treated wait staff.

Besides, she was being ridiculous. And ungrateful. Though unaware, he’d given her a lull in the raging anxiety that had nearly engulfed her over the last month. When he gestured for her to leave, she obediently walked away from the table. Until she reached the street.

The crowd, full of rapidly moving people, was intimidating. Moving into the press of bodies was the last thing she wanted to do. She hesitated long enough for Dave to catch up; pressing close behind.

“Problem?” He asked, resting a hand lightly on her hip.

The weight of his hand sent a zing of pleasure through her pelvis. “No. I just need a minute.”

Dave seemed to sense her dilemma, and after waiting a few moments, gently pushed her aside, and entered the street, carrying her along with him by the simple expedient of a hand at her back.

The Slade was less than two blocks, a quick walk, until you tossed in weekend partiers. The number of people on the streets was truly amazing. As the crowd jostled her, Samantha felt her anxiety start to rise. One particularly drunk young man, unsteady on his feet and careless, brushed passed and actually knocked her off balance.

Dave steadied her almost casually, settling a hand at her waist and pulling her towards him, anchoring her with a strong arm. “Almost there.” The words were offered in a reassuring tone.

Seconds later, a bottleneck at a new hot restaurant jostled them further. Samantha found herself pressed against her companion’s hard chest. He smelled good, intensely masculine, without too much cologne. She had a strong urge to snuggle closer, both his body heat and scent were enticing. Without thinking, she laid her head on his chest.

A low chuckle recalled her to her senses. Heat flooded her cheeks; she jerked away.

What was she doing?

Samantha tried to disentangle herself. Dave’s arm and the crowd kept her firmly pinned. He kept moving, allowing the press of people to move them along. Her heart was pounding by the time they reached the entry to the apartments. Dave’s grip loosened.

She took a deliberate step back, partly embarrassment, partly anger. Amused hazel eyes, flecked with a kaleidoscope of color, smiled down at her.
 
Man. Is she uptight! Dave would never have imagined having to argue with a woman about offering her his coat on a cold evening. He had spent many years in the outdoors, hiking and camping. He was fit and tough and had learned long ago that most physical discomfort was in reality, more mental than physical. He had taught himself great control in fighting the helplessness of feeling hot or cold. Or hungry or tired. Yes it was cool this evening but easy enough to tune out. For him. Unlike most people who had grown soft and comfortable and lazy about their own level of comfort. They eat when they are hungry and turn the thermostat up or down to make sure their surroundings are to their liking. Forcing the world around them to adapt as opposed to learning to overcome and adapt yourself if necessary or, in this case, simply desired. He knew she was cold. He could see it in her face, her shoulders, her movements. But she was more than cold. She seemed 'lost' in every sense of the word. When she bumped into him, she seemed disoriented as if she didn't even know where she was. When he said hello, she seemed to struggle processing that he was her neighbor.

He could see she had a lot going on. And none of it was good. Upon first glance, he would think she was carrying a lot of baggage. Damaged goods. A woman with 'issues'. Maybe even bat shit crazy. The disorientation, the confusion in chatting, the indecision over something so simple as sitting to chat or accepting a drinking or taking a coat on a cold night. Then there was the pawn ticket. She was the kind of woman he would normally avoid like the plague. But he saw something else. Something subtle, but genuine. She was not all dolled up. She clearly left the apartment in a hurry with no plans to run into anyone she knew. But she was still pretty. Very pretty. There was a beauty he saw in her. She was healthy and well groomed. Dave imagined on any other given day she would have been in control. Together. Strong in her own way. And confident even. For all her troubles now, he saw an almost painful innocence. Not weakness but vulnerability maybe. He wanted to help her. At least help her out of her funk this evening. Just help her get back to her apartment. Back to the safety and security and comfort of her home.

When he placed his coat on her shoulders, his hand brushed along the side of her neck. He was just patting the coat down, making sure she felt warm and covered. Her skin was soft until immediately after his touch when he felt a tensioning of her muscles. In spite of her chill, her skin was warm to the touch. If he hadn't know better, he might have described her as flush. Was it the drink? It was just one. And it certainly was not 'him' after the cool reception she had given him. Get her back to her place and all will be right with the world. She stood unsteadily and it was then that he got a chance to ‘size her up’. She was a little taller than most women, but probably a little shorter than many of the models he dated. Maybe 5’7” or 5’8” he guessed, compared to his own 6’2”. She preceded him away from the bar back toward the mass of people filling the street. Dave took the few steps to enjoy the view of her ass once again as he followed close behind. She seemed to have regained her 'sea legs' and walked with a slow, deliberate gait that suggested she was naturally graceful and stylish. And it didn't hurt that her tight round ass rocked rhythmically side to side, up and down.

She came to an abrupt halt as she reached the mass of humanity in the street. If he didn't know better, he could swear he could see the tension return in every part of her being. It was as if she was suddenly unsure again. Although Dave loved the peace and solitude of the mountains or the woods, he was equally comfortable in Times Square on New Year's Eve. He had traveled all over the world on business trips so crowded masses were nothing new to him.

"Problem?" He said while resting a firm, comforting hand on her hip.

“No. I just need a minute.” She said.

Dave could sense the hesitation in her. And knew the longer they waited, the more the hesitation would take hold of her. The solution was to jump right in, but she seemed to be in a delicate state and he didn't want to cause her to withdraw. But he was not going to ask her again. So he silently counted to five, slid his hand around her back and guided her firmly yet confidently directly into the heard of people laughing. The movement of the crowd could best be described as 'fluid'. If you tried to walk straight and rigid, you would be bounced like a pinball. Better to relax and adjust, going with the flow as you work your way to your own destination. Clearly, Samantha was having trouble with the concept. Or just not prepared to deal with it tonight as a drunk young man bounced into her. She stumbled and would certainly have fallen had Dave not already had his hand on her back. Slipping further around her waist he cupped her as effortlessly as if they were dancing and pulled her into him as she regained her balance. "Almost there."

The crowd was getting more dense when she was pushed again, this time falling into his chest. He cupped her tightly once again, to comfort her and reassure her. “Relax Samantha. I have you. Just a little bit more.” She seemed to linger against his chest longer than he would have expected. For all her tension and confusion, she felt warm and soft against him. She felt… As if she suddenly felt comfortable. At ease…

The woman he barely knew, his neighbor, suddenly felt attached to him. Almost as if she were paralyzed again. The crowd continued bouncing into them, but Dave held his ground. The flow of the laughing crowd began adapting to his immovable force, like a bolder in a raging steam flowing around them before reforming and continuing on. He held her firm and close, swaying from side to side as he began sidestepping towards the edge of the crowd. It felt like a dance as she matched his movements. Two moving as one. Once they approached the edge, the pressure of the crowd eased and he began moving once again toward the parking garage in the bottom of the building they shared. The building they shared for now, but not for long, according to the beautiful woman in his arms.

At last, they peeled off and stepped into the dim light of the entrance to the garage. “See? That wasn’t so bad now was it?” as she fell out of his arms and looked up at him sheepishly as if suddenly self-conscious of something that might make her feel uncomfortable in any other circumstance.

“Thank you.” She said as she turned and stumbled toward the elevator still a little uneasy on her feet.

They rode up the elevator in an uneasy silence. Dave could sense that she seemed uncomfortable again. Why? Was she getting her bearings back? Returning to normal? Distant and cool? Or was it something else? Distracted maybe. He wasn’t sure but he felt like she was still in a fragile state. Better to let her have her space and not crowd her. Especially in the confined space of the elevator. Better to be safe than risk an episode that could turn ugly all too quickly. The doors opened up and he stepped aside to allow her to go first. Once again, he admired her as he followed. She was more steady with each step and Dave felt comfortable that for whatever she had going on earlier, she was going to be OK now. They reached the end of the hall where their doors faced each other, she a few steps ahead of him. She fumbled for her key as he caught up with her and reached his own door, his key already in his hand.

As he slipped the key into the lock, he paused for a moment thinking about the woman behind him. She was not really his type. But for some odd reason, he was curious. She intrigued him in a way he did not fully understand. How long had they been neighbors? He didn’t even know. And he was frustrated that he had not paid more attention to her before. He suddenly realized he would miss her. And yet, he had only just learned her name tonight. And for her seemingly fragile state this evening, he was happy he could help her tonight. In fact, he felt like he needed to reach out to her one more time to make sure she was ok. She was still struggling with her key and finally got it inserted into the lock as he turned to her.

“Are you OK?” He said facing her again.

“Yes. I’m fine” She said turning to acknowledge him. “Thank you. For the drink. And the escort.”

Something suddenly overcame him as he reached out, cupping his arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest once again. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the top of her head before releasing her.

“You are very welcome Samantha. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you will be moving and we will not be neighbors anymore.” He said with a gentle tone and reassuring smile. It was not a smile of arrogance or even confidence. No, his was an unexpected smile of sincerity. And with that, he turned back to his door, pushed his way in, and disappeared as the door closed securely behind him.

No sooner had the door shut behind him than Dave stopped and stood silently in the foyer. What was it about that woman? Why was he so interested in her all of the sudden? And what was her ‘deal’ exactly? He walked slowly into the living room and plopped down on the big leather couch, slowly replaying the events of the evening. She was disoriented, clearly distracted with some stress or circumstance. She said she would have to be moving soon. Not moving soon. But HAVE to be moving soon? What did that mean? He thought about it for a moment. He paid his rent the week prior. On time like he always did. And she had that pawn shop ticket in her hand. Why would someone pawn anything? They were notoriously bad ways to get money, only used by those who were desperate. Was she having trouble paying the rent? That seemed unlikely. But who knew? He continued replaying the evening in his mind. Her awkward grace. Her ‘naked’ beauty. Her vulnerability. And that ticket… He continued trying to figure her out as he slowly slipped into sleep on the couch.

Dave awoke the next morning, on the couch, tired and stiff. He was still thinking about the woman across the hall and wondered what she was thinking this morning. It was his turn to be distracted and he really was in no mood this morning to go to work. He had something else on his mind. He stumbled into the shower to wash away the fog and find his energy again before heading downstairs to the leasing office. He walked into the office and greeted the cheery woman behind the desk and asked about the women across the hall. The woman confirmed that the rent was overdue for the apartment across from his. In fact, she had been instructed to begin drawing up the default paperwork along with the eviction notice. Dave confirmed the amount due, with penalties and offered his credit card, announcing that he would like to bring the account current. The woman looked confused, but quickly accepted his payment, offering him a receipt along with a generous smile as he walked back at the door.

There was just one last errand he had to run. Thinking back to the night before, he thought about Samantha when she first sat down. The pawn ticket in her hand. She had no idea he had seen it. He had immediately recognized the shop as one he had frequented before, looking for deals on guns turned in for pennies on the dollar. Dave pulled into the parking lot and walked through the door to be greeted by a man he recognized as someone he had dealt with previously. He offered a familiar greeting and asked about a woman that might have stopped in the day before to pawn something. The man immediately remembered her and told Dave about the beautiful antique ring she had pawned. Dave asked to see it and was surprised to see just how beautiful it was. Jewelry was not his thing and he was far from an expert. But he could see the value of the ring he held in his hand. He thought back to the woman that seemed so distraught the night before and it suddenly became clear. And he was saddened knowing she would never have the money to buy the ring back. That’s how pawn shops worked. She gave up something precious to her and it would be lost forever.

An idea was coming to him. It was a beautiful ring. One he could afford. And one she could never afford to have back. He could buy it. Not for her, but to hold it. To keep it so she might one day be able to buy it back from him. Better than to have it lost forever if someone else bought it and disappeared. And what if she didn’t want it? What if she could never afford to buy it back? He could always sell it himself and get back most of what he paid for it. Without hesitating, he paid for the ring and headed back out the door…
 
He smelled good. She snuggled back, pressing her bottom against him more firmly, enjoying the heat and security of his body. His hand stroked lazy circles along her hip and thigh, making her wriggle in pleasure and sparking a pulsing need in her core. The hand moved and tightened, cupping an ass cheek firmly while he growled his desire in her ear.

The patter of rain woke her fully from the dream. Samantha lay for a moment with her eyes closed, gathering her bearings.

Couch. She yawned, and stretched experimentally. A mild stiffness confirmed she’d slept curled in a ball around her pillow. Samantha stretched again, arching her back to unkink muscles.

Sighing, she snuggled back under the cover. The dream had been pleasant; it’s fading memory left her with a warm little glow. The lingering feel of the lazy hand made sent a pleasant little shiver down her back. Bits and pieces flashed into focus.

Dave! Samantha’s eyes snapped open. Her neighbor from last night had been the guy in question? Disconcerting, to say the least, considering her intention of keeping her distance.

More of the dream came into focus. Samantha groaned into her pillow. To top it all off, she’d felt safe and secure, something she certainly didn’t feel around Dave himself. In person he just made her nervous. She stretched again. At least she’d woken relaxed and happy. Snuggling under her throw, she stared out at the steady drizzle of rain. A good day to nap.

Or to finish the dream….

She blinked at the coffee table, sleepily. The sight of the pawn ticket, weighted down by her keys brought reality back in one cold, quick rush.

Rent.

Samantha’s stomach immediately knotted like a fist, banishing any pleasant residue from the dream. Sitting up, she wrapped both arms tight around her knees. Anxiety flooded her body, moving through like a toxic substance.

Get up. Putting things off won’t help.

True, but it still took twenty minutes before she could make herself leave the couch. A quick shower improved her outlook, though one quick look at the contents of her fridge said food was out of the question. Her stomach was far too upset to keep anything down.

She did pull out her press, with the thought of making coffee. Samantha hesitated. Through-the-roof anxiety combined with caffeine was not going to help her mental state. She’d already gone back and checked that the water was completely turned off after her shower. Twice. Caffeine at this point probably guaranteed a full blown anxiety attack. Reluctantly, she put the press back in the cabinet.

Get dressed and go down to the office. What’s the worst they can do?

Samantha winced inwardly. That was a question easy to answer. Evict her. Bad enough in itself, but knowing she was in the wrong always made her feel so guilty. Not paying one’s rent on time certainly put her in the “wrong” category. Now if the leasing office had been trying to perpetrate some injustice she’d have had no trouble dealing the situation, firmly, even bitchily if needed, but toss in a sense of her own wrongdoing and she became inarticulate and fearful, and practically helpless to defend herself.

Quit stalling. The admonishing mental voice made her feel just that much more guilty. Besides, avoiding confrontation sounded pretty good at the moment. Leaning back against the granite counter she bundled her wet hair into a careless bun.

Options? She considered her plan to revisit the pawn shop. Honestly, she didn’t think she had anything portable that would bring in enough money to be helpful. And the thought of her mother’s ring was painfully fresh; she really didn’t want to go back. Sighing heavily, Samantha faced facts. She wasn’t going to be able to make rent. Best be up front about it, talk to office, and see how much time she had before eviction.

There's still time to call Mark.

That thought, and the fact she considered it for a moment, even briefly, got her moving. Sitting around was dangerous, if she did it long enough she just might succumb to temptation. A quick trip to the bathroom for a second towel to dry her hair, then the bedroom for clothes. Jeans, sweater, and a pair of faux fur lined half-boots and she was ready.

Samantha hesitated. Checking that the shower was completely off one more time seemed like a good idea. She did so, and then slowly walked into the living room. The front door practically glowered at her as she reluctantly fetched her keys from the table.

It’s not going to get any easier. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to walk to the door.

Twenty minutes later she stood in the hall between her and Dave’s apartment, shaking with outrage and a host of other emotions.

How dare he pay her rent? How dare they let him pay her rent?

She’d sat there, dumbfounded, when the woman said her past due account had been settled. Confusion, disbelief, and acute embarrassment followed in rapid succession. The latter feeling heightened by the speculative curiosity in the leasing agent’s gaze. Relief over not being evicted only came when she stepped into the elevator. By the time the doors opened on her floor she’d moved on to guilt and a sense of obligation, which made her furious.

Now that she was standing in front of Dave’s apartment, anger definitely had the upper hand. Without giving herself time to think, she clenched her fist and pounded on the door. It took three attempts, in rapid succession, before he yanked it open. Irritation stood out around him like spines on a porcupine.

“You paid my rent!” Awareness of her shaking voice made her even angrier.

Her verbal onslaught changed Dave’s expression from irritation to surprise. He blinked.

“I am perfectly capable of handling my own business.” Damn her voice, it would not quit shaking.

Dave continued to stare down at her, both eyebrows raised.

“And I certainly don’t need any help from you!” An inconvenient flash of her morning dream popped into her head. She immediately went scarlet and tongue-tied.

An awkward silence ensued. Samantha swallowed uncomfortably. It occurred that she might have acted a tad precipitately. Taking a moment to calm down might have been a good option. At least before she started pounding on doors. That realization was followed by an acute recognition that she certainly wasn’t handling her business well at the moment. In her continued theme of rapidly changing of emotion, anger was replaced with confusion, followed by extreme mortification.

The silence stretched. Samantha stood awkwardly, not quite sure what to do next. Her presumptuous neighbor was clearly in the wrong. Why didn’t he say something, anything? Dave continued to be no help, he merely looked at her, expression neutral as his initial surprise started to wane.

Samantha stood rooted to the spot, trapped by her own indecision. The trembling of her lower lip automatically brought her hand to cover her mouth. The movement broke the spell of her paralysis. She broke eye-contact, immediately taking a step back. “I -

What, exactly, did one say in this situation?

“I have to go.” She finally managed, backing up another step and preparing to bolt.

“Stop.” Dave’s tone, not angry exactly, but authoritative and raised, halted her in her tracks.

When he said nothing else, she risked a look upwards. Not quite as calm as she’d thought; his lips formed a straight hard line and a tiny muscle in the left corner of his mouth twitched.

Crap! Another confrontation, no matter how justified, was not what she needed. She opened her mouth, casting about for something to say. Dave preempted her, taking hold of her arm, and before she could protest, drawing her into the foyer of his apartment.

Samantha gasped at the unexpected contact. Even through her sweater, his touch sent little thrills of physical pleasure running up and down her arm. Sensations exciting and terrifying at the same time. Her first instance was to withdraw, she tried, but his grip was too firm. The sense of helplessness made her light-headed. What was going on with her libido? Every time Dave touched her her body started thinking dirty thoughts. Without her permission.

Her neighbor loosed her as soon as she was inside, turning back to close his front door firmly. It swung to with a thud, vaguely ominous. Dave turned to face her, breathing a little heavier than normal. His outward calm made her nervous. It was clear he was holding some emotion in check, but she had no clue what it was. For the first time it occurred to her to wonder why he’d gone to the trouble of handling her rental arrears. It wasn’t as though they were friends; he hardly knew her. And just how had he known? A fresh wave of mortification threatened to bring her to tears. Had she been so transparent?

Don’t you dare cry.

Why had he paid? Random generosity? Kindness? Surely not. He didn’t strike her as a kind man. A glance at his expression certainly confirmed he wasn’t feeling particularly kind at the moment.

Samantha bit her lip, wishing herself anywhere else.
 
The ring was beautiful. Really it was. But not new. Not typically of what you might see in today’s jewelry stores. It was old. Old but classic. With incredible attention to detail. Dave twirled in his fingers admiring it from all angles. For someone so busy loving life and rushing head long into the next great adventure, he had a tendency, on occasion, to stop and reflect. This morning he was rushing around. First the leasing office and then the pawn shop. Now, he was reflecting, studying the ring in his hand. This was no new ring. So it was not likely a ring his neighbor had bought for herself. No way. And it was unlikely it was one she had received from a suitor. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember seeing a man around the apartment across the hall. Not that he saw them often at all. Occasionally the other woman. And once in a while, maybe Samantha.

He suddenly wondered if maybe she was a lesbian. Maybe. Possibly. Maybe she had a fight with her live in roommate lover. Maybe her ‘girlfriend’ moved out. Maybe that’s why she was suddenly needing to move. His attention returned to the ring, trying to imagine the woman that first received it. His neighbor’s mother most likely. Maybe even her grandmother. How desperate she must be to be pawn her family heirloom. The more he stared at it, the more he liked it. Fuck it. Maybe he would keep it. He slipped into the second bedroom of his apartment, the one he used as a home office. The one that housed his gun safe. He opened the safe and placed it gently on the top shelf and started to close the door when he was jolted with the sudden pounding on his front door?

What the fuck? He was on the top floor for many reasons. The view. The size of the place. The balcony. And the lack of neighbors in the hallway since the upper floors had the larger apartments, hence fewer on each floor. And the building had pretty good security too. So who the hell was pounding on the door? His door? His anger rose with every step toward the door.

Yanking the door open as violently as the pounding it was receiving, he was surprised to see his neighbor. The woman from across the hall. Samantha. When he reached for the door, he was livid. And ready to unleash his wrath on the person doing the pounding. As soon as he saw who it was, anger crossed into confusion. He just stood there blinking at her. Why was she so upset? She was hysterical. Yelling and gesturing wildly with her arms and hands. It was everything he could do not to break into laughter.

Then, he fell into his reflective state. She was upset. No doubt about it. By why? OK so he paid her rent. So what? She didn’t even have to acknowledge it. She could have gone about her business and just ignored him. He looked at her again, like he had the night before. And like last night, he saw just how beautiful she was. Not in the traditional sense. And not right now. Right now, her nostrils were flaring, he neck was flush and he eyes wide with anger. He could still see the beauty behind her anger. He looked down at her and suddenly felt sorry for her. Last night she was confused and distraught. This morning, she was angry and frustrated. He wondered what she looked like happy. Wondered how long it had been since she was. When was the last time she smiled? Laughed? Felt content? Had an orgasm? He wondered. A woman in her current state could easily slip into a pattern of unhappiness, loneliness and helplessness.

He let her rant for as long as he could stand it. He had to do something. But what? He really didn’t know how to respond to her being so crazy. When suddenly she said, “I have to go.” As she backed up to turn and leave.

Just like that? She was going to pound his door and scream at him and then just leave? Like hell she was! He was not going to give her the satisfaction of unloading on him without allowing him to respond. Or to be put in her place. “Stop!” He said. Not loudly. But clear and firm. Obeying, the only option in his tone.

She stopped as he reached up and grabbed her arm. His strong fingers gripping her firmly through her soft sweater. Her arm was soft, yet firm. She clearly took care of herself. He didn’t know if she worked out, but she clearly did not sit on the couch all day eating Bon Bons. He could feel her trying to pull back. Not to get away so much as to free herself from his grip. But he held her steady, just watching her for a moment before drawing her quickly into his apartment. Once back inside he turned quickly and closed the door. Then he looked back at her and stared her straight in the eye as he slowly, deliberately, closed the dead bolt on the door.

Walking back to her, he could see her shaking. Not so much from fear he thought as the level of anxiety she had. She started to speak, to protest as he quickly raised his hand to her face and showed her a single finger. “Shhhhh. I think you’ve said quite enough.”

The look of panic was clear on her face. Like an animal that made a mistake and was now trapped with no way out. Samantha had no idea what to expect at this point but one thing was clear, she had lost control of the situation. She was in no position to deal with her circumstances now. She had not thought this through. What she knew above all else was that she needed to get out of his apartment. Taking a deep breath, she summoned all her strength and willed herself to step firmly towards the door. Once again, Dave grabbed her by the arm and twirled her around, stopping her in her tracks for the second time in minutes. Catching her balance, Samantha turned to him and raised her free hand as if to strike him. Before she knew what happened, Dave’s lightning quick reflexes had grabbed her free wrist, and pulled her towards him to force her off balance as he spun her around and pressed her up against the wall. He held her wrists firmly above her head, her arms pulled tight almost dragging her up on her tip toes. Before she could lash out with a kick, he pressed his body hard against hers, his full weight pressing into her.

If she had panic in her eyes before, it was sheer terror now. She had played her ill-advised hand and was paying the price for it. She had lost all control of the situation, was in a strange man’s apartment, behind a dead bolted door and was now pinned up against a wall by this man with strong hands and seemingly even stronger will. Unable to move, she took a deep breath and prepared to scream when he suddenly dropped his head to hers and kissed her forcefully. What was happening? She had no idea. No control. And no plan now. His hard body pressed against hers, his hips pressing into hers. His mouth warm and aggressive on hers, his tongue darting inside. She tried to roll her head side to side, trying to shake him to no avail as his mouth followed hers.

Before he realized it, Dave caught himself becoming aroused. This energetic minx pinned underneath him was warm and feisty. Her scent intoxicating. And her mouth, while initially resistant, was now warming and ever more inviting. As his cock began thickening in his jeans, he took great pride in pressing his hardness into her pelvis, grinding against her. He could feel her resistance falling away as a low moan escaped her lips still pressed against his.

And just like that, as fast as it started, Dave’s lips retreated, his hips pulling away and his hands lowering her wrists. Releasing one hand, he reached for the door, unlocked the dead bolt, swung the door open and pushed her back into the hall. “The next time you have something to say to me, I expect you will come over and be more civilized and controlled.” And with that, he shut the door, the dead bolt audibly locking behind the closed the door.

Dave turned around smiling and shaking his head. Even he wasn’t sure what had just happened. All he knew was the way she came over, pounding on his door and screaming at him when he opened the door was unacceptable. The kiss on the other hand, was quite acceptable. Especially when he felt her begin melting away underneath him. The more he thought about her, the more aroused he became as he unconsciously began rubbing himself through his jeans. She intrigued him. She had from the first time he really noticed her yesterday leaving her apartment headed for the elevator. Then again last night downstairs. And now again, here in his foyer. He wondered what she could be like. If she were not so neurotic. Lost one minute, confused the next, then insecure and now most recently hysterical and angry. Speaking of her being angry, just why was she so angry anyway? It was then a new thought crept into his mind. For every time she appeared to be unstable, his firm tone and persistence seemed to be snap her back to reality. Each time he pressed, she conceded. The drink, the jacket. Even the outburst just now. As if she needed someone to show here the way.

Slowly walking to the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of water and headed for the comfort of the couch. He needed to get back to work, but he really wasn’t in the mood right now. The water was cold and sweet but it did nothing to quench the fire he had still burning in his loins. First his belt, then the buttons on his jeans as he dropped them around his ankles before setting back down and stretching out. Sliding his hand down, he cupped his balls and rolled them around playfully, causing his cock to thicken and swell. He loved that feeling early, when he was thick and swollen but not yet hard. Pulling on his balls, he leaned his head back, closed his eyes and began thinking about that kiss. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she was grinding back against him. Thinking back again he thought about her ass. Tight looking little ass, nice, round and firm. He wondered what it would look like naked before him. The firm full tits pushing back against him in the hall way. And warm, wet, willing mouth. How great would that feel wrapped around his cock? No longer soft, Dave continued stroking his cock.
 
“Thank you.”

“No problem. No problem at all,” Mark said, with his usual open, friendly smile. “You should have let me know you were having trouble sooner.”

Why? So she could feel even worse about herself than she already did?

Samantha forced her stiff lips to answer his smile. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He took hold of her hand with one of his, and placed an envelope of money in it with the other.

“Thank you.” Two little words, and they felt like they were choking her.

Mark still had hold of her hand. Her ran an a thumb along the delicate inner skin of her wrist, prolonging their physical contact. “Consider it a gift.”

Dave’s touch had seared her skin, Mark’s touch made her want to squirm away.

“No, I’ll pay you back,“ she insisted a little desperately, fighting the urge to jerk back her hand. Talking to Mark make her feel like she was fighting her way through a sticky web. Trapped in sweetness and niceness, like a particularly bland custard.

“It may take a while.” Honestly compelled her to add, “Actually it will probably be months.”

Her ex moved a little closer, sliding what he probably meant to be a comforting hand up and down her arm. “You can always move in with me until you get on your feet.”

Samantha shivered, pictures of the future unfolding in her head like a video on fast forward. Mark as a lover, Mark as a husband. Anxiety constricted her chest; her breath tightened. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.

What other choice did she have?

Better in debt to Mark than to her officious neighbor. Or at least so she’d thought when she’d woken this morning. Now she was second guessing her decision. Samantha fought down a climbing panic. “Thank you, that’s really sweet, but I’ll be okay.”

Mark gazed at her soulfully. “Well, you know best.”

And that was part of the problem.

She always knew best, according to him. The sticky web of sweetness threatened to drown her. Samantha fought to free herself. “I have to go.”

Mark sighed, and took a step back. “At least come to dinner with me. Saturday night? At eight? We’ll do Indian.”

Damn. Yet how could she refuse? Samantha swallowed a couple of times and forced another smile. “Sure. Of course.”

She practically ran to the elevator, gathering a couple of odd looks on the way. Once inside she took several deep breaths. Dealing with Mark made her feel so…guilty. Rightfully so this time. She’d used his feelings for her to borrow money. The thought made her queasy and ashamed. Finding a job was now imperative. She knew herself. If she didn’t manage to pay him back soon, with interest, she’d find herself obligated right back into a relationship. Not quite one of Dante’s circles of hell, but close.

When the elevator doors opened Samantha had herself back under control. She’d borrowed enough from Mark to get her mother’s ring out of hock. That was first on her agenda. Second, was visiting her apartment’s office. If Dave could pay her rent, she could certainly pay his. Third, hit the coffee shop in her building. Until her resume wound it’s way through hiring red tape she need a temporary job.

Her lips curved in a smile, a genuine one this time. Imagining the surprise on her neighbor’s face when he found she’d paid his next month’s rent almost made it worth going to Mark for the money. Almost.

The air was brisk. The walk to the pawn shop from Mark’s office building was little too long to be comfortable, but at least today she was prepared for the weather. A short trench coat, and fur lined boots keep out the cold, both black, to suit her mood. She was warm enough, and got even warmer as she thought of Dave and his behavior.

The nerve. And to think she’d been lulled by one shared drink into reversing her original opinion of his character. Her roommate, correction, ex-roommate was right. She was too trusting.

Dave had violated her privacy. Paying her rent behind her back was…well, she wasn’t quite sure what it was. Humiliating, for one thing. Remembering the knowing look of the woman at the front desk made her grit her teeth.

As humiliating as not being able to pay rent?

She slowed her pace, tucking in her chin against the cold. Okay, possibly not. But it still wasn’t his place to interfere in her life. And she still didn’t understand why he’d done it. Or his behavior afterwards. She’d had every right to be angry and upset. Every right. Samantha hunched one shoulder guiltily. Okay, maybe she hadn’t handled it well, but that was hardly the point.

And that kiss. Her lips, and other body parts, burned at the thought. How dare he? Where did he get off, kissing her like that. Kissing her at all, she reminded herself. She blushed at the memory of how her body reacted. Hot, welcoming, eager. Even now….

Stop!

Shoving both hands into her pockets - naturally she’d forgotten gloves - Samantha rounded the corner to the pawn shop. Okay. So maybe she shouldn’t have tried to slap him. But he’d pulled her into his apartment. And locked the door. He’d practically assaulted her when she’d tried to leave.

His kiss had been forceful, hard. And he, at least parts of him, had enjoyed it. The memory excited and embarrassed her at the same time. Her nipples tightened involuntarily. Dave hadn’t been shy about displaying his arousal. Samantha wasn’t used to such open displays of lust and sexual aggression. It shocked her. It was also intensely erotic. She wiggled uncomfortably, her breasts heavier and aching with every passing thought. What would he be like in bed?

Stop! Keep to the point.

She took a deep breath and let it out quick. The point was the he’s shown himself to be everything she’d originally suspected. Too confident, too arrogant, too dismissive. Everything she disliked in a man.

The memory of his hands holding her wrists about her head intruded inconveniently in her catalogue of recriminations. It made her instantly wet.

Stop! Stop! Stop! What the hell was wrong with her?

The weight of Dave's body pressing on hers, his hard demanding mouth, the way he’d ground his erection against her pelvis….

“Excuse me.” The irritated voice, belonging of a harried looking middle-aged woman, brought Samantha back to reality with a thud. She’d come to a complete stop in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking traffic.

Damn. The pawn shop was at the end of the block. Samantha sprinted towards it. She’d sent two hours last night doing cardio after her little encounter with Dave, hoping to quell both anxiety and sexual arousal. It hadn’t worked. She’d ended up masturbating. Twice. Okay, clearly more exercise was on the agenda. The last thing she needed was to start obsessing about sex with a man she didn’t even like.

And then, just like that, he’d pushed her into the hall. Not that she’d wanted to stay. Absolutely not! Samantha's fingers curled into tight little fists. Still, his behavior was confusing. Most guys were just so desperate to get into your pants. And it wasn’t like she’d exactly been discouraging. Samantha winced. There had definitely been moaning. And she distinctly remembered arching against him towards the end of the kiss. even parting her legs slightly, as if inviting him to go further.

Oh God. Shoot her now.

Reaching her destination, she stood for a moment on the sidewalk, gathering her composure. No need to die of mortification. He probably hadn’t even noticed her response. And if he had?

Samantha jerked opened the shop door, savagely. Well, so what? She had no intention of seeing Dave again. There was zero chance she’d be able to pay next month's rent, and she’d be out of the building before he realized she’d paid his. He’d be unable to do, or say, anything about it. She smiled. The thought gave her great, if petty, satisfaction.

The pawn shop was warm, almost too much so. Samantha unzipped her jacket, fishing the pawn ticket and cash out of an inner pocket, and walked towards the clerk behind the counter. He glanced up, inquiringly.

“Hello.” She brandished the pawn ticket. “I’d like to redeem a ring.”

Ten minutes later she was out on the street, shaking, literally shaking, with an overwhelming fury.

That bastard!

He’d bought her ring. Dave, her meddling neighbor, had bought her ring. Tall, fit, with dark hair. She’d recognized the description immediately; it had to be him. No one else would be that…that…interfering. Or that bold. How had he known? And the clerk. His casual admittance that he’d sold the ring, her ring, when her pawn ticket clearly stated she had sixty days to reclaim her item. The clerk’s bland indifference to her fury and indignation.

First the apartments, now the pawn shop. Did everyone just do what he wanted? Unexpectedly, she started to cry. After holding it off for days, the damn finally burst. She stood there sobbing on the street like an idiot.

Get hold of yourself.

People were staring. Samantha started walking, head down to hide her tears. Aimless, but in the general direction of the apartment. The shop disposing of her ring might have been illegal, but what recourse did she have? She’d need money to pursue a complaint, and if she had money she wouldn’t have been at the pawn shop in the first place.

The thought of losing the ring forever made her heart clench. A fresh bout of sobs started. Why had Dave bought her ring? Would he let her buy it back? Samantha sniffed and tried to think. Honestly, she didn’t know what Dave would do. He mixed up easy going, arrogant, generous, and indifferent in a such a way she really couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, much less how he’d react. And it wasn’t as if she could go back to his apartment. The very thought made her flinch. Between her own angry fit, and her body’s unlicensed response to his kiss, she rather be dead than have to face him again.

Why had he bought her ring?

Samantha wiped at her eyes and quickened her pace. She had to get the ring back. And no matter her behavior, Dave was still at fault. He’d paid her rent, uninvited. And he’d forced a kiss on her, hardly gentlemanly behavior.

Could she send him a letter? A written offer for the ring? She frowned, biting her underlip. No. It would be all too easy for him to ignore. A letter from a lawyer, perhaps? Too expensive, and she was already in hock to Mark. The rings two old fashioned diamonds, set toi et moi, called out to her. Her heart sank to her feet. Okay, maybe a little begging wasn’t out of the question. Her tears, quelled, threatened to start afresh. She glanced down at the sidewalk, hoping to hide the evidence of crying from passerby's. The intricate pattern of stamped concreted looked familiar. The Slade. Wrapped in her thoughts her feet had actually taken her home of their own accord.

Samantha slipped into the lobby. Upstairs, finish out her cry, and then figure out what to do next. Averting her gaze, she headed to the elevators. One was already moving downward, she saw with relief. Right now, all she wanted to do was reach her apartment. The doors slid open. She hung back to give the occupant a chance to exit.

“Hello, Samantha.”

Her head jerked up. Dave stood in front of her, casually blocking her entrance. She stared at him a moment, utterly taken aback. It took a moment for her to realize he was holding the doors open for her, politely.

No. It was too much. Just as though he hadn’t interfered in her life, overstepped personal bounds, made her situation worse than it was to begin with. “You bought my mother’s ring.” Her tone rang with accusation.

Without another word, she turned on her heel and headed for the stairs.
 
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Dave’s eyes opened and glanced at the clock on the side of the bed. It was ten minutes before seven. Ten minutes before his alarm went off. He had some errands to run later this morning so he was going to work from home today. Rolling over, he let the fog ease away as he rubbed his eyes slowly before sliding his hand down below the sheets. Another morning, another morning erection as he squeezed his swollen member and gave it a few easy strokes. He wasn’t especially horny this morning, not after his release the night before on the couch. Like most mornings when he awoke with an erection, he stroked himself for no reason other than it just felt good. This morning was different. His mind drifted back to the neighbor across the hall, Samantha and the kiss he ‘took’ from her. He enjoyed it and smiled knowing she enjoyed it too no matter how much she protested. He could feel her body reacting to his kiss. Now, alone in bed, with his hand wrapped around his cock, Dave closed his eyes and imagined Samantha pinned against the wall again. Only this time facing the wall, her skirt hiked up around her waist, his hips pushed in, his cock pressing against her lips. The image ignited that spark deep in his loins that begin a growing arousal. His cock hardening, his grip getting tighter, the pace quickening. Then, as suddenly as it began, he released his grip and tossed the sheets off before sliding off the bed. Not now. There would be another time he told himself.

The coffee was already brewing by the time he stepped into the shower. It was one of the guilty pleasures he enjoyed most about his high end apartment. In spite of being on the top floor, the water pressure in the shower was incredible and it felt like a fire hose. Hot and massaging, he let the water crash over the back of his neck and shoulders. As much as he enjoyed the shower, he quickly washed, rinsed and dried off before wrapping the towel around him and heading to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

The work load for the morning was light. A few email exchanges, a conference call and three calls to customers. By the time noon approached, he was looking forward to some fresh air. He picked out some casual khakis and a dark blue dress shirt and headed for the door. As the elevator headed down, he tossed around ideas for lunch. The doors opened and he caught himself in mid step when he saw her at the door.

“Hello Samantha.” He said with a pleasant smile, holding the door open for her.

She jerked her head up at the sound of his voice, clearly surprised. But the look on her face was not one of surprise. Revulsion or pure hatred might be better descriptions of her gaze as she hissed at him. “You bought my mother’s ring.” And with that, she turned and headed for the stair well.

Dave was still standing in the doorway of the elevator as someone stepped in past him. What the hell was that? Dave wondered. No telling. She had a lot of ‘baggage’. And he was probably responsible for some of it now. He knew she had been pissed about the rent. And then the kiss in his apartment. Although he could swear he felt her body responding as he pressed into her. He paused and thought about his own arousal at the kiss and wondered if she had noticed his erection. And then there was the way he pushed her out and sent her on her away. But she specifically mentioned the ring just now. Which meant, she now knew he had picked up her ring. But how could she have known? Unless she went back there today.

“Hey buddy. In or out huh?” The man in the elevator was obviously ready to be on his way.

Whatever her beef, she had no right to snarl at him. With that, he stepped back in the elevator and pressed the ‘9’ and headed back up. The man inside hopped off on the 3rd floor and he rode solo the rest of the way back to the top. Stepping through the doors, he started not towards his own door as he had hundreds of times. Not this time. This time, he headed for the stair well. And waited.

Samantha fumed, ripping open the door to the stairs and marching inside. “Bastard!” That was all she could think to say to herself. “Bastard!” She said again to no one in particular. What was it with him anyway? How had he become the bane of her every breath so suddenly. So completely? Two days ago, she had barely noticed him coming and going across the hall. And now? Now everywhere she turned, he seemed to be there. And every move she made, he seemed to turn around on her. The drink. The rent. The kiss. The ring. And now, the fucking elevator. She felt smothered and needed to be free of him. She needed some space and fresh air. She needed to think and relax and get her head back on straight. To get her life back in order. And yet, where was she now? At the bottom of a stair well with her apartment nine floors above her. She was in good shape. Actually, she was in great shape she thought. But she was in no mood or condition to climb nine flights of stairs now. She wasn’t dressed for a workout. And the emotion of the last few days had left her weak and unsteady.

Every great journey… Isn’t thathow the old Chinese proverb started? By the time she made the landing on the fourth floor, she was breathing heavily and starting to overheat. She stopped to catch her breath and remove her coat before starting up again. Passing the eighth floor landing, she was really slowing down. One deliberate, strained step followed by another. Until finally, she had made it. Breathing hard now, she leaned heavily into the door with her head down, stumbling into the hallway.

“What exactly are you so mad about?” Dave said calmly as he leaned against the wall just inside the door.

Samantha’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. What the hell? What was he doing here? He should have been long gone. God how she wanted to be away from him right now. She just needed a few minutes to clear her head. “Get away from me!” She said with all the venom she could muster.

She tried to push past him when he grabbed her arm and spun her back around to face him. With firm hands on both her shoulders, Dave pressed her back against the wall as he had the night before, without her hands over her head this time. “Hey! Just relax and calm down for a second.”

Samantha’s eyes were wide with hate as she struggled to get free. Her hands and arms struggled against him but he was too strong. His weight leaning into her, she was as motionless as she could be. What’s worse, with her shoulders pinned firm against the wall, her back was arched leaving her breasts thrust out in front of her rising and falling with each deep breath as she struggled to come down from the exertion of the climb.

Dave couldn’t help himself, looking down at her ample heaving cleavage, a slight smile spreading across his lips. “Relax. Just relax OK? I just want to talk to you.”

She was in no mood to talk. For everything he had done to her, now he was holding her against her will. The fact that she could not move, again, enraged her. She was desperate to get her life back under control and now he held her for a second time where she had no control at all.

“I bought the ring to help you! Don’t you see? I bought it so no one else could. I bought it so I would have it and you could get it back. You know, when you were ready. And if you didn’t want it, then I would keep it. It is a very nice ring. I looked at it closely last night and the more I looked at it, the more I liked it.”

In spite of his pleas, she seemed to want nothing of it. He could feel her tensing and writhing under his grip. She was strong. He could feel her strength. But she was no match for him. She was anything but relaxed. At this point, he was afraid to let go of her, fearful of a wicked kick or wild swing.

“Listen. I’m going to let you go on the count of three OK? I just want to talk. Why don’t you come to my place and we can sit down and talk about it. What do you say?” He looked her straight in the eye, hoping he would see her soften, wishing he would feel the muscles in her shoulders release just a bit.
 
“Let go.” She struggled to keep her voice level, under control.

Dave continued to hold her pressed firmly against the wall, ignoring her demand.

What a surprise.

“What do you say?” he repeated.

Samantha willed herself calm. Instinct might be prompting her to scream and continue struggling, but it was a pointless exercise considering her opponent’s size and weight.

“I just want to talk.” The reasonable tone of Dave’s voice made her teeth grate.

Much as she wanted free, she had no intention of agreeing to anything while he had her pinned to the wall. A promise made under duress was nothing more than blackmail. She swallowed a fresh bubble of panic. Feeling constrained, feeling helpless, pushed all her buttons. It terrified her. It always had.

Except for the other night.

The memory of Dave’s hard lean body, pressed against hers in the foyer of his apartment, sent jolts of sensation dancing along her nerve endings. His hands, holding hers above her head while he plundered her mouth, had compelled her obedience. She’d been helpless, unable to defend herself as he forced her body to respond to his demands. Renewed heat lapped deliciously between her thighs and tugged at her nipples.

Samantha wet her lips. Okay.

So the other night had been different. She’d still been panicked, still terrified, but more of herself than any external force.

Dave still had his hands on her shoulders, eyeing her as if trying to assess what she was likely to do once he released her. “I just want to talk.”

“Let go.” The words came out more shakily than she liked. Dave’s physical, aggressively male, and undeniably sexual presence made it difficult to hold on to the ragged edge of her control.

This time he released her, stepping back quickly to put a little distance between them. Samantha took a deep breath, a second, a third. Her primal self urged her to retaliate, but engaging physically with Dave would be a mistake. And, she reminded herself silently, the quickest way to the losing end of an argument. A wave of dizziness came out of nowhere and hit hard. The thought of sliding down the wall to sit on the hallway carpet was suddenly quite tempting.

“Are you feeling okay?” She looked up to find Dave watching her, his hazel eyes darkened with concern.

Sympathy made her feel raw, exposed. Besides, where did he get off? Anger surged up, infinitely preferable to insecurity. Tightening her lips, she pushed away from the wall. So he wanted to talk, did he?

Fine. She had plenty to say. Before she could examine the decision too closely, Samantha started off on unsteady legs down the hall. Dave beat her to the door and inserted his key into the lock. It gave her a moment to study him. Tall, with a lean runner’s build. Fair skin, tanned to a deeper hue by the sun, light brown hair just starting to go grey. A little thrill ran through him as she watched his hands, assured and confident. An image of him in bed, touching her, kissing her, flashed into being. Her skin burned at his imaginary caress, his fingers trailing up the soft skin of her inner thigh, stroking her clit, taking possessive hold of her hip to thrust demandingly into her wet, welcoming body. Lust, pure and uncomplicated, rolled over her. Wetness bloomed between her legs. Her cheeks were instantly scarlet.

Dave, opening the door, appeared not to notice. With a wave of his hand, he offered entry. Samantha averted her eyes and sailed past him, doing her best to regain her sense of indignation. Not an easy task, as the image of him on top of her, taking control, driving them both to pleasure, refused to be banished.

Take him to bed.

Samantha nearly tripped over the hall rug. What?! She’d just gotten free from one relationship; she was hardly looking for another. Besides, she was here for one reason only. No, two. Get her ring back and give Dave a piece of her mind. Nothing more.

Let him take you to bed.

She swallowed, and pressed her thighs together. A mistake, as her earlier imaginings had left her pussy sensitive. The added pressure brought on a flood of new heat. Her mind cast about for a distraction. Any distraction. Maybe the sex would be terrible? The thought perked her up; her lips curved in a faint smile.

A new image flashed, disrupting her brief respite. This one had her prone, hands bound above her head, while Dave took his time, leisurely exploring her body. He moved at his own pace, oblivious, or even enjoying her desperate need, as she writhed under his hands. A tiny gasp forced it’s way past her lips. Okay, so no way could the sex be bad.

She watched him unobtrusively as he flipped the deadbolt. The noise of the lock sent a little shiver down her back. For the first time it occurred that being alone with Dave in his apartment might not be the best idea.

Fuck him.

The voice was practically shouting in her head now. Maybe sex would get him out of her system? A one time thing. She wouldn’t orgasm: she never did the first time, but so what? Maybe the physical act would clear her head, kill the desire.

She moved when Dave nudged her, hesitating at the entrance to the main living area, Dave reached around her to flip on the lights.

Oh! Muted blues, textured fabrics, all layered together in a comfortable yet still elegant style. The occasional pop of red and and the rich tone of wood kept it masculine, and created a look too smooth, too pleasing, to be anything but one created by a professional. The casual luxury made her feel gauche, and out of place. Dave clearly had no difficulties paying his rent. For some reason the knowledge made her freshly self conscious.

“Let me take your coat.”

She surrendered it reluctantly, unable to think of a reason to refuse. Dave’s knuckles accidentally grazed her neck as he lifted it from her shoulders, setting a fresh new crop of sexy images dancing through her head.

“Please, sit down.” He offered her a seat in one of a pair of dusky, blue leather wingback chairs.

Samantha fidgeted. Did she want to sit? No. Most definitely not. She didn’t plan on staying one second longer than needed to retrieve her ring.

Dave stood, waiting. She shifted from one foot to the other, feeling all kinds of awkward. “Ummm, no. I don’t want to sit down. Thank you,” she added belatedly.

“I really think you should sit down.” His weight shifted, as though about to approach.

Her heart thudded in her chest. “No, I - “

“Sit.” The firmness of the tone made her jump. She sat.

“Something to drink?” Dave’s tone was back to casual, relaxed.

Samantha frowned Why was he treating this like a social occasion? It wasn’t; she was angry.

“A glass of wine, perhaps?”

“No.” The refusal came out sounding less definite than she would have liked. She crossed her her ankles nervously, uncrossed them, then crossed her legs. How did he always manage to make her feel so nervous? So insecure?

Dave waited, patiently, but his silence transmitted clear intent. If she didn’t want wine she was getting something else. Samantha wet her lips nervously. Maybe it would be better to just accept a drink. “Wine. Red, please.”

As he filled her request, she took the opportunity to regroup. Her original intent of telling him off now just seemed like a bad idea. She was too uncertain of her ground, of her own reactions.

Dave’s return flustered her anew. He reached across to set the glass down on the small side table to her right. His unexpected nearness set her pulse pounding erratically.

Damn.

It was as though her all her erogenous zones fired up when he came close. His scent was delectable, definitely male, and crazy erotic. Samantha had a wild urge to reach out and run her fingertips along the buttons of his shirt.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Dave’s voice, practically at her ear, made her jump. Opening her eyes, she found him inches from her face, hazel eyes searching hers questioningly.

“I’m fine.” She forced herself to look away from him, from his mouth. His very tempting mouth.

Before she could dodge, he reached up and took hold of her chin. “You look a little pale.”

Samantha’s pulse thudded. Her inner thighs felt like they were on fire; she could feel the wetness in her panties. Dave ran his thumb along her jawline almost absentmindedly. A moan caught in the back of her throat. She kept her eyes down, unwilling to take a chance he might recognize her desire.

“Look at me.” It was definitely an order. Dave’s voice was thick with some emotion, and no longer gentle.

Part of her wanted desperately to comply. Another part was mortified at the thought that he would see her need. Self preservation won out. Samantha jerked her chin away, refusing to meet his glance with her own.

Dave sighed. Samantha tensed, unsure what to expect. She was surprised, and just a little disappointed when he moved away and sat on the couch.

He’s not attracted to you.

Samantha released her pent breath. True. His kiss had probably been nothing more than an opportunity taken. The knowledge steadied her. Time to carry the war into the enemies camp. “Why did you buy my mother’s ring?”

Dave watched her for a moment before answering. “I told you. I bought it so you would have a chance to retrieve it.”

“I could have bought it back myself.”

Could she have?

She wiggled in her chair, uncomfortably. Lying didn’t come naturally, and she was all too aware that even her borrowing from Mark had been prompted by Dave’s interference. Every decision she made these days seemed to be orchestrated by him in some fashion.

Mark’s money.

Samantha slid a hand along her leg to her boot. The envelope, thrust into her boot after the pawn shop mishap, was still there. She had the money to pay Dave back. How had she forgotten?

She looked up to find Dave watching her and promptly blushed again. Why? Why did he have such an effect on her? He made her feel so…nervous and uncertain, and so very, very aroused.

Samantha tugged the envelope loose and placed it carefully, deliberately, on the coffee table. “There. There’s the money for my ring. And enough to reimburse you for what you paid on my rent.”

Dave’s eyebrows rose. Reaching out, he touched the edge of the envelope, exposing a corner of the money residing inside. “Where did you get this.”

His question took her by surprise. Why should he care? For some reason she hadn’t considered he’d question her about the money. The urge to tell him it was none of his business was strong. On the tip of her tongue, actually. Samantha hesitated. It would be rude,and somehow she didn’t think he’d be very amused. But she could hardly tell him about Mark. “It’s mine.”

“I’m sure it is,” he agreed politely. “Where did it come from?”

A trapped sensation made her stomach drop. She needed to leave before something dreadful happened. “A friend lent it to me.”

Dave locked his gaze on hers. “A friend?”

Damn.

She really did not want to get into her personal life with Dave. Or tell him the details of her financial problems. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t approve of her borrowing money from Mark. She didn’t even approve.

Get the ring.

Samantha cleared her throat. “My ex boyfriend. Mark.”

Why had she given out her ex's name?

Dave set down his drink and picked up the envelope, allowing hundred dollar bills to fan across the table. “That’s quite a sum.”

“I….” Her voice just would not work. Dave’s tone was somehow unnerving.

His expression, when he looked up, wasn’t much better. “Why didn’t you borrow money form him before? Before you were late on rent? Before you had to go to the pawn shop?”

Her chin started to wobble. Surely he didn’t expect her to answer his questions, did her? Her relationship with her ex was her own business. As was how she’d come up with the money.

Samantha stood up. “I’d like my ring back, please.”
 
Dave’s hands flexed, his fingers wrapping around, digging into the flesh of her shoulders as he held her against the wall. Her nostrils flared and her eyes glazed with fire and hate as she struggled to free herself. There really was no explaining his recent infatuation with this woman. The leggy model he had been dating was plenty willing and lot less hassle. Yet, there was something about Samantha that pulled at him and tugged at his loins in a way he didn’t fully understand. He remembered studying her the night before. Her features, her walk. She was tallish and round in all the right places. Nice round ass, full, high breasts and enough ‘meat on her bones’ that he imagined she could take a good rough tossing in the bed without getting hurt. And yet, for all her round edges, he could feel real strength in her shoulders as she resisted him. Strength and tone of a woman that worked out and took care of herself. Which made her all the more dangerous should he let her go.

It was hardly the time for another kiss, but he had to admit, the thought did cross his mind. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin. Her scent rising and intoxicating. The milky white skin of her neck growing flush. With anger? Hatred? Or something else? She seemed to be struggling as much with herself as she was against him. He could feel himself becoming aroused. Again. But this was not a sprint to be had. No, he knew she would be a journey. A journey of discover for him and for her. And with that, he let he go.

It was hardly a surprise when she finally conceded to ‘talk’. For all her bluster, he knew she would cave. Like she had at every turn before. No doubt the conversation would focus on the ring, but there was so much to explore in this broken, confused woman. But now, he was beginning to worry a bit about her. She was clearly unsteady on her feet. She needed to sit down. To rest. To recover a bit. Her wits and her energy. Following her inside, he turned back to lock the door, sure to make a firm, deliberate motion in locking the deadbolt. The loud metallic click of the lock closing was not lost on Samantha as she jerked her head around at the sound. Why would he lock the door? Why would he make it difficult for her to escape? Just how ‘trapped’ as she? Figuratively? Literally?

It was all becoming too much for her. The stress, the pressure, the lack of sleep, the lack of food. Always a confident and secure woman, what had happened to her the last two days? She was not accustomed to being out of control, not knowing what the next moment would bring. And now she found herself locked in a strange man’s apartment. The tension of the last few minutes was taking its toll, and she was suddenly burning up. She wanted to deny his offer to take her coat, but her need to cool off was undeniable. She turned her back to him to offer her coat. Reaching up to lift it off her shoulders, Dave took the opportunity to rub the back of his hands down the back of her neck. Her flesh was fiery hot and it caused a jolt to run through him. His mind wandered, imagining what she would be like in bed. Fiery, passionate, physical and insatiable. Perhaps. Potential is what he felt. And he wondered if she even knew what she had in her.

Why did she keep refusing him? Never mind last night. Just in the last 20 minutes, she had refused to ride in an elevator, refused to talk to him, refused to sit down and refused a drink. She even refused his efforts to check to see if she was OK, jerking her chin out of his hand dismissively. All things she needed. And, interestingly enough he thought, all things in which she eventually conceded. Most often after his secondary, more firm demand. Now here they sat. She in one of the high wing back chairs, stiff, full of tension yet weak and unsure. Stark contrast to his lounging casually on the couch, leaning back, his arm propped on the edge of the couch, a glass of wine rocking lightly in his hand. He was relaxed and confident. All things she was not.

She was finally trying to go on the attack. Not asking about the ring. But asking why he bought it. And claiming she could have bought it back. She was just waiting for him to respond so she could attack him again. Instead, he just stared at her. Something he had been doing a lot of lately. She really was beautiful. Without her obtrusive coat now, he could better see her form. She was wearing a light whispery blue blouse. It was cut low enough to expose some enticing cleavage and snug enough to frame her shapely breasts. And he could just make out her nipples, slightly erect and protruding from the light fabric. He knew she wasn’t cold. Maybe she was aroused in spite of her anger. Her erect nipples betraying her. He loved her fire and resistance. And he had seen how she responded to his firm tone. Or his firm hands. The thought made something else firm as he wondered just how she might respond to more of the same. The absence of a response and prolonged silence clearly confused her before she reached into her boot and produced the envelope of money. Two minutes later, she has spilled her guts about getting the money from her ex-boyfriend. Now she had stood up, as if to leave and blurted out “I’d like my ring back, please.”

Please? Really? That’s the best she could do? Dave continued lounging on the couch and cocked his head as if she had spoken a foreign language. She didn’t demand the return of the ring. She asked for it. For all her attempt at bravado, she really was not a very good negotiator. “Sit down Samantha.”

“I’m not going to sit down. And I don’t want your wine. I’m leaving and I want my ring back!” Her voice rising as she spoke until she was nearly yelling and visibly shaking.

“Right now, the ring is mine. It is not yours. So if you are going to leave, you are going to leave without it.”

“But I gave you the money back. And even repaid my rent. You have your money. And you have my ring. I want it back.”

“No. You placed an envelope of money on the table. I don’t need your money. And I don’t want your money.” Dave leaned forward on the couch, placing his elbows on his knees, his hands interlocked and his legs spread wide. Why is Mark your ex-boyfriend? Why isn’t he your boyfriend?”

She was getting flush again. This time, surely with anger. “That’s none of your business! I want my ring!”

“He obviously has money. And he obviously still has feelings for you. Or he wouldn’t have given you the money. If you were still with him, you would be able to pay your rent and you would still have your ring. Which means you left him. Why?”

“I told you that is none of your business!” She was shaking now.

“I’m guessing he wasn’t keeping you interested if you know what I mean.”

“I want my ring!”

Dave stood up and stepped towards her. “I have one question for you. Did he ever kiss you the way I did last night?”

She took a step back until she bumped into the island in the kitchen. “What Mark and I did is none of your business.” Another step forward and he was standing right in front of her. He reached out and took her hand which she immediately jerked free. “Get away from me!”

Leaning forward, Dave’s hips pinned her against the counter as she leaned back. “Is that really what you want Samantha? Is it? Let’s find out.” Before she knew what was happening, he had wrapped his left arm around her waist and pulled her tight and upright against him. He ground his hip into her, his hardness pressing into the inside of her thighs and slightly parted legs. He could feel her warmth and sensed her haggard breathing. She had already lost this battle and didn’t even know it. She could feel him in the front and she could feel his hand sliding up her back. Firm and electric, exciting every nerve he touched until his fingers wrapped firmly around the back of her neck, pulling her to his waiting mouth. Like the night before, his mouth ravaged hers, his tongue darting in and out. A low, guttural moan started in his chest and worked its way up his throat, and into her waiting mouth. His right hand, resting on her hip started to rise, under her light blouse, cupping her breasts and kneading it firmly.

For all her resistance, she was not resisting now. She was not yet reaching out for him with her arms, but her tongue was now dueling with his. In between frantic grasps for air. Her legs were getting weak as she allowed hers to wrap around his, drawing him deeper between her thighs, grinding against his hardness, searching for that special touch. His right hand continued fondling her breast, his fingers now pinching and twisting her erect nipple, drawing another deep moan. They both came up for air and to take a few quick, deep breaths. Dave released her breast and withdrew his hand from under her blouse before raising it to her face. He let the outside of his fingers lightly stroke her cheek, his cool touch feeling refreshing on her warm, flush skin. She felt weak on her feet in his grasp as he held her tight to steady her. She had a lost look in her eyes. Distant and unfocused. He half carried her, half guided her toward the coffee table to pick up her envelope and then turning back towards the door.

“Here’s what we are going to do.” He said forcefully. “ First, no more yelling. No more fighting. You’re going to go home and relax and then you’re going to come back over here at 6:00 and we will have a dinner date. We can talk about the ring and try to get back on the right foot.” It was all more a statement than a suggestion or offer. She was still confused and struggling to understand what was going on. It was non-negotiable and he knew she would not decline. He lifted her coat off the rack and folded it over her arm as they reached the door. Then as slowly and deliberately as he had locked the door when they came in, he rotated the deadbolt and unlocked it. He wanted her to soak it in when he locked it and now he wanted her to understand, he was ‘releasing’ her. As he reached for the door knob, she stepped forward in anticipation of his opening the door but he only opened it a crack. Closing in behind her, he grabbed her again, pulling her back into him and leaned into the back of her neck. His breath was warm and moist on her ear as he whispered, “I want you to wear a short dress and heals. And a silky thong. Your choice on the color.”

And with that, he opened the door, guided her out and closed it behind her before she could so much as turn around. So there she stood, weak and confused. Again. This time in the hallway between their apartments. He had stolen another kiss from her. Twice in two days. And she still didn’t have her ring back…
 
Samantha really did not want to get out of bed. Curled around her pillow, snuggled amongst cotton sheets and down comforter she felt warm, safe, relaxed. And, for the first time in what seemed like months, secure.

A false security, surely.

Okay. So her confrontation with Dave hadn’t gone exactly as planned. On the whole, quite disastrous really. No ring, and he’d kissed her again. Could you be held responsible for responding to a kiss when it was forced on you?

If you kissed back.

Burying her face into pillow, she groaned. And it wasn’t just a kiss. He’d fondled her, caressing her breast and tugging at her sensitive nipple, one of her most responsive erogenous zones. Worse, she’d enjoyed it. A lot.

Samantha winced, trying to ignore the blush doing it’s best to cover her entire body. She’d actually arched into his questing fingers, moaning and making little noises. Even now, just thinking of his hands, taking what they wanted, made her pussy clench.

Stop.

Angrily, she slapped back the beginnings of arousal. She was furious that he’d breached her personal boundaries. Again. Touched her without permission. Who did that? She curled tighter around her pillow, trying to block out the memory of her response. No getting around it. Dave was a problem. On several levels. Exasperated, she threw the covers off and stared at the ceiling. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

Her phone rang. Samantha dragged her pillow over her head to block the sound. Whoever it was, she absolutely did not want to talk.

What if it was a job?

The possibility had her scrambling out from under the covers. By the fourth ring she’d managed to fish the phone out of the pile of clothes she’d dumped by the bed.

Mark. With a guilty little pang, she dropped the phone, letting the call go to voice mail. Now she owed Mark as well as Dave. And to what purpose? Dave, legitimately or not, had her ring, and he’d made it more than clear she wouldn’t be buying it back.

At least not with money.

With what, then? Sex? Hardly. Twice now he’d kissed her, aroused them both, then pushed her unceremoniously out the door. Hardly the action of a man desperate to fuck her. Not that she was interested in having sex with him, she hastily assured herself, but it was all…just so very confusing.

Exasperated, Samantha sat up and wrapped her arms around her still sheeted knees. What did Dave want? He said he’d bought the ring to help her, but if so why wouldn't he let her buy it back?

Her cell phone pinged, a text. Mark always followed up an unanswered phone call with a text instead of just leaving a voice mail. An irrelevant little habit that made her nuts. Samantha sighed, exasperated with herself rather than her ex. After all, what difference did it make how he chose to leave messages?

Sitting up, she yawned and stretched, arching her back, arms above her head. Amazing what a little sleep and an aborted eviction notice could do for a girl. Her thought processes were clearer than they’d been in days. She was still in one hell of a mess. But at least it was a marginally less panicked mess.

Scooping up her phone, she looked at the screen. Nearly five. Abandoning the comfort of her bed, she made for the shower. Hot water, and lots of it, was in order. Time enough to return Mark’s call, once she decided how to deal with Dave.

The hot water eased her tight shoulders and soothed her frustration. Idly, her thoughts drifted back to Dave. His assurance, his calmness, his overt masculinity. He was…definitely attractive. She palmed her breasts, rubbing her sleeping nipples until they perked to attention. Dave’s voice, forceful and hard, as he demanded to know what she really wanted echoed in her head. One brush of her thumbs brought both nipples to full attention; she bit back a little moan. He’d growled when he kissed her, sending a thrill of desire shuddering through her body. Her fingers came into play, squeezing and tugging until her nipples rose to their peak, swollen and sensitive. Little undulating moans of pleasure now filled the shower cubicle. Her breasts became heavy, aching with need. Imaging it was Dave’s hands toying with her nipples had her panting in shallow little gasps. Closing her eyes, she could almost feel the weight of his fingers sliding down her ribcage to curl possessively on her hips. The enclosed space became unbearably warm and close.

Not helping.

Samantha took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Reluctantly, she dropped her hands, and took another breath. Her body protested, urgent with unrelieved lust, but the last thing she needed to be doing was fantasizing about her impossible neighbor. Any hope she had of finessing Dave out of her property resided in her ability to keep her wits about her. Touching herself intimately while fantasizing of him didn’t really seem to fall under those guidelines.

Nudging the temperature control towards cold, she let the rush of water drench her face and chest. Time to cool off. Just because a man was crazy sexy was no reason to….

The memory of his weight, pinning her to the counter, sent one hand drifting down between her legs. His erection, heavy and insistent against her pelvis, had fired her body with urgency, a near desperate need to cum under his direction. A needy little mewl escaped her throat. It was rare that she used her fingers to orgasm, but the need was just so strong. Hesitantly, she slicked a finger along one side of exquisitely sensitive clit. The gentle contact was enough to send currents of pleasure dancing along her nerve endings. Temptation took over, she stroked down the opposite side, letting loose a fresh rush of pleasure. Her pussy on fire, Samantha abandoned any further attempt at control. Bracing her back against the tiled corner she used one hand to manipulate the tender real estate between her legs and the other to continue the abuse of her nipples. The urge for release made her legs quiver, muscles clenched tightly as her body raced to it’s goal. She came hard. And almost immediately. Waves that flooded her lower belly and burned their way down the flesh of her inner thighs.

Wow.

Samantha let out her breath, clutching at the marble soap tray until her mind and body could reconnect from the fragmentation of her orgasm. Eventually her legs quit shaking enough to stand without support.

Damn.


Aggravated, she turned off the water and reached for a towel. The man was insidious; he snuck into her head at every turn. Not only did he show up in her dreams and fantasies, now he was giving her the most phenomenal orgasms. Completely and utterly infuriating. Not to mention just a little bit mortifying. Her lips tightened angrily as she vigorously toweled her hair.

Her ring. She wanted it back. Hanging up her towel, Samantha slipped on her white fluffy robe, and headed to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Pulling her press from the cabinet, she made an effort to marshall her thoughts.

Two choices. Convince Dave to let her buy the ring back or take legal action. The latter would be expensive, and require time. Time would be stressful, expensive would require Mark. Her hand tightened involuntarily on the coffee cup. Of the two, dealing with Dave seemed, marginally, the lesser of two evils. If she could just figure out what he wanted from the situation. Not money, not sex, then what? She leaned a hip against the kitchen counter and waited for her coffee to brew.

What did Dave want?

Honestly, she had no idea. She couldn’t begin to even imagine why he’d forced this dinner date. Did he just like torturing people? Her in particular? If so, why?

Exhaling loudly, she bundled her damp hair into a low knot. One thing was for certain, she needed to stay out of his apartment. Less opportunity for those explosive little one-on-one physical encounters. Fortunately he’d said “dinner date” which surely inferred dining out, a good thing as the mere idea of spending the evening with Dave was enough to set her pulse racing. The man was just dangerous, completely unpredictable and combustible hot. Samantha cleared her throat and tried to focus.

Okay. Keep it public. Definitely.

And if he still wouldn’t surrender her ring by the end of the evening? Samantha set her chin. Well, then she’d approach Mark and take the legal route. Dave’s rude remark about Mark not, “keeping her interested,” popped into her head. She shoved it away. Marriage to Mark might mean an eternal purgatory, but life was full of choices. And she wanted her ring.

Dressing for Dave brought on a fresh attack of jitters. A guilty need to impress warred with a strong desire to flout his instructions. Eventually she compromised, settling on a short red dress whose skirt flirted playfully around her thighs, but choosing a pair of black tanga bottoms in lieu of a thong. Three inch red pumps completed her outfit. She took a moment to twirl in front of the mirror, sexy, but restrained. Perfect. By ten minutes to six she was ready, sitting in a chair, facing the front door.

Now what?

Dare she be late? Samantha wiggled uncomfortably on her perch. Tempting, and it would send a clear message. Perhaps too clear. Dave was unlikely to be amused. Possibly not the best way to start the evening.

The waiting was kicking up her anxiety. She glanced uneasily over her shoulder towards the bathroom. Had she turned the shower off? It wouldn’t hurt to check….

It was six exactly when she knocked on Dave’s door. Which opened promptly.

Wow. Samantha blinked, then swallowed, nerves back in full force. Every man needed a grey suit, but no man should look as good in it as Dave did in his. Nice cut, beautiful fit, it hugged his body in all the right places.

He took in her appearance, raking her body with a slow, deliberate glance. Dave smiled. It reached his eyes and held genuine warmth. “You look lovely.”

The casual compliment pleased her unreasonably. She suppressed an urge to wiggle like a puppy at his approval. “Thank you.”

Dave stepped back into the foyer. “Come in.”

Her shoulders immediately tensed. Dave’s apartment really was off limits if she hoped to maintain any control of the evening. “No.”

He frowned, eyebrows drawing together. “I beg your pardon?”

Butterflies jolted alive in her stomach; she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “I’ll have dinner with you, but I prefer to keep the evening public.”
 
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As soon as the door closed behind her, Dave broke into a smile. A date. With Samantha. She would show. He knew she would. And she would be wearing what he demanded. He knew she would. She was confused. Beautiful, sexy even, but confused. He could sense she was strong deep down inside, but her current life circumstances were conspiring to erode any self-confidence she had going. A date at 6:00pm. That was four hours from now. So, what kind of date? He could make dinner for her of course. Something unbelievably decadent. Truth was, he was an amazing cook. Just one of the many things in which he took great pride and took very seriously. But no, not tonight. Dave was thinking something public would be good. She would look amazing. He knew she could. That’s why he demanded a short dress and heels. She was scared and desperate to get the ring. So she would go all out. Be all dolled up. Would be a shame to leave that all cooped up in his apartment. That would come later. Perhaps a drink to start the evening off before they headed to dinner.

Four hours from now would be good he thought. Plenty of time to get through a good workout. Pausing for a moment, he thought he would rather be giving her a good workout… Shaking his head, he was determined not to let his distraction get the better of him. He moved to digging through his closet to pull out some clean workout clothes and as he was stuffing them into his bag he thought he’d like to be giving her a good stuffing… What the hell was going on with him? Why was he so infatuated with her? Was it because it had been a few days since he had any real contact. Sure, he had a nice session with himself the other night on the couch after running into her downstairs. But it had been nearly a week since he was last with the silly model. Maybe he just needed a little physical contact. His mind drifted back to Samantha once again, her nice full, round ass, her perky tits, her beautiful smile. Come on man, get yourself together he thought. Maybe he needed that workout more than he thought.

The walk down the hall and ride downstairs was uneventful. In fact, he didn’t come across a soul until he stepped out into the open air walkway of the complex. There was a fully equipped workout room on the second floor of the apartments that was part of the lease package. And he used it often during the week when he just needed a good quick, intense workout with no lines or hassles. But he also joined the gym in the complex two blocks down. It gave him an opportunity to socialize while he worked out when he had time to kill. Today was one of those days.

Walking through the front door, he could see the traffic was light inside. The night shift crowd getting a workout in before they headed off to work. He recognized many of them. Bartenders and waitresses mostly. A couple he was pretty sure were strippers although he didn’t know for sure. The locker room was empty as he quickly changed into his cross fit shoes, whispery running shorts and an old grey t-shirt. Dave started every work out with a run to limber up his muscles and get his heart rate up before moving to free weights. He liked the free weights more than the machines because they gave him more flexibility in how to use them. Today, he seemed to really push himself hard. Extra weight and extra reps left him exhausted and a little weak but feeling like a million bucks. He decided to grab his bag without changing and head home. By the time he reached the lobby, he felt refreshed and energized. He pushed the button on the elevator and stepped in long enough to press the 9 on the keyboard and drop his bag before jumping back out. It was now a race to the 9th floor as he ripped open the door to the stairwell and bolted up the flight of stairs. By the time he burst through the doors on the 9th floor, he could see the elevator was just moving past 7. A personal best in fact as it was usually 50/50 whether he could get up in time, often reaching the hall just in time to see the doors closing with his bag still sitting on the floor.

He was still inhaling deep breaths as he walked through the living room, dropping the bag on the couch. He felt good. Really good as he paced around the place till his pulse and breathing subsided back to normal. His shirt was soaking wet, more dark grey than light as he peeled it off on his way to the laundry room. The shower was cool and refreshing as he washed away the sweat of the workout. And he was surprised to find his cock somewhat thick and swollen in spite of the cool water. True, he was especially horny after most workouts, part of the whole feeling strong and powerful thing. But today was a little different. He wasn’t really feeling horny, but his cock said otherwise. Could be a difficult complication given the dynamic with his ‘date’ tonight.

As the clock moved past 5:30, Dave opened a nice bottle of merlot to let it breathe in anticipation of before dinner drinks before heading to the bedroom to get dressed. He selected a medium grey suit, a tailored white French shirt and a bright red tie dotted with small silver points for accent. Slipping on his shoes, Dave turned to check himself in the mirror. The suit still fit like a second skin. The French shirt soft and smart looking and the highlight of the bright tie provided just the right amount of contrast. It was still a few minutes before 6:00 so he pulled a third glass out of the rack and poured himself a pre drink drink then stepped out onto the balcony to relax while he waited.

The evening crowd below was starting to build as people stopped by after work. Dave loved watching the crowd from his balcony. Far enough away to be unseen and yet close enough to see the dance of the masses. The doorbell rang and he could see it was straight up 6:00 as he set the glass down out of view on the balcony and headed to the door. Opening the door quickly, he was pleased with what he saw. She was absolutely stunning. He knew she was beautiful in spite of the stress she wore, but the woman standing in front of him was much more than he expected. And how perfectly fitting that she was wearing a short red dress to match his tie. He couldn’t help but notice the moderate neck plunge revealing a good hint of full breast. Enough to entice and highlight her assets without being overly revealing. The red fabric clung to her body, thinning at her waist before wrapping nicely around her hips. Then falling loose around her thighs. Down to modest red heels. CFM heels was the first thing to come to mind. “You look lovely”

She seemed genuinely flattered. A little tense still, but appreciative of the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Please, come in.” He offered, stepping back and the to the side of his foyer, waving his hand gently back toward the kitchen.

“No.” The response startled Dave slightly. Not only did ne not expect to be turned down for an offer to come inside, he was surprised at the sharpness of her tone.

“I beg your pardon?” He barked back in an equally aggressive and sharp tone.

“I’ll have dinner with you, but I prefer to keep the evening public.” Her tone had softened considerably. Perhaps she was as taken aback by the tone of her objection as he was.

“I was hoping we could have a quick drink before dinner. I’ve already opened a bottle of wine.”

“Thank you but no. I’ll have dinner with you, but I prefer to keep the evening public.” She repeated, this time almost apologetically. But clearly she did not want to be caught in his apartment again.

The last two times had ended with him stealing a kiss from her. Kisses she claimed she did not want but Dave knew better. He wondered if perhaps she was more afraid of herself than she was him. “At least let me put the cork back in the bottle.” He turned and half slammed the door in her face and then took his time re-corking the bottle. He wanted her to know he was not happy and she was the cause. Given her condition of late, it would keep her from getting too comfortable with their date.

“OK.” He said closing the door and locking it behind him. He then offered up his hand and said “Let’s go shall we?”

She reluctantly took his hand as they walked silently down the hall and waited for the elevator. Her hand was soft and warm, her grip gentle and a little unsure. “I hope you like steak. I made a reservation for us at 7:00 at J’s down the street. Of course, we will be a little early since you declined a drink. But I’m sure they will seat us as soon as we get there.”

As the doors opened, Dave placed a hand on the small of her back guiding her into the elevator before following her in. “That dress looks very nice on you.”

“Thank you.” Was all she could muster, feeling flush and little unsure of this ‘date’.

Punching the 1 as the doors closed, they began their ride down to the bottom floor. Samantha was one side of the elevator and Dave was on the other admiring her. She could feel his eyes on her and it made her a little uncomfortable. She shifted a little on her heels, not sure what to say to break the silence. Finally Dave spoke again.

“Let me see.” His eyes fixed on hers in a steely gaze.

“Excuse me?”

“Your thong. Let me see it.” He asked again, this time, a little more firmly.

“What? No!” She stammered trying to sound firm and failing miserably.

Dave continued his hard stare and calmly continued. “I told you to wear a nice short dress. You did that. A very nice dress I might add. I also asked you to wear a thong. Your preference of color if my memory serves. I want to see it. I want to see what color you picked.”

“No.” She repeated. She was fumbling for words. “I thought this was supposed to be a date.” She was suddenly very mindful of the tangas she wore. Every edge of material touched her skin as if it were on fire. The silky material pressing against her. Soft and warm. His voice resonated in her head and down her body between her legs. Deep and firm.

“It is. I told you what to wear. You complied. At least as far as the dress is concerned. Now I want to see the thong.”

His steady gaze was really making her feel uncomfortable. She knew she wasn’t wearing a thong like he asked. And she was scared of his reaction to her refusal. Did it really matter? Her tanga bottoms were close. Would he even notice the difference? She suddenly realized she was debating herself on the merits of tangas vs. thongs with no regard for his ridiculous demand to hike up her skirt! A wave of anger and frustration washed over her and she could feel herself becoming flush. But the way he was so demanding had her excited. She could feel herself getting wet. Damn it!

The elevator reached the bottom floor and the doors opened. No one was outside waiting to get in. And Dave stood still in the corner, not stepping out as she expected.

“We’re not leaving this elevator until I see.” The doors closed but remained on the bottom floor, waiting for direction.

Flustered and panicked, she yanked her dress hem up and down as quickly as she could before punching the ‘door open’ button and quickly stepping out. She was in desperate need for some fresh air. Dave followed her out and took her shaking hand as they started walking. “See? That wasn’t so bad now was it?”

Samantha walked in silence. What the hell was going on? This date was turning out worse than expected and they haven’t even sat down to eat. Maybe going into his place would have been better. Another abusive, stolen kiss would have been better than the indignity she just faced in the elevator. Even if he had attacked her, thrown her down and fucked her, would it have been all that bad. She knew her nipples were erect and showing through her dress and she could feel her wetness soaking her panties. Would it have been worse than what just happened?

The line of people waiting for J’s had spilled out onto the sidewalk outside. Dave grabbed her hand a little firmly and pushed his way through the crowd to the hostess stand. “Mr. Adams! So happy to have you join us again.” The hostess was young, busty and bubbly. And clearly happy to see Dave.

“Hi Tiffany. Good to see you again. I’m afraid we are a little early.” Dave and ‘Tiffany’ were obviously on good terms. Samantha took an immediate dislike to the woman and felt uncomfortable squeezed behind Dave in the crushing crowd.

“No problem. We actually have your table waiting. Follow me.”

Dave was kind enough to politely push some people out of the way to make room for Samantha as he guided her in front of him to follow the hostess. They weaved their way through the dark restaurant to a corner booth in the back. “I believe you requested Alisa. She will be with you shortly.” Tiffany paused and looked at Dave, smiling a little longer than was necessary before she sauntered off. Dave watched her tight little ass until she was out of sight before turning back to the table and sliding in next to Samantha.

He was no sooner settled in than Alisa stopped by. “Good evening Mr. Adams. Can I get you a cocktail while you browse over the menu?”

Dave turned to Samantha. “What’ll you have?” His voice was suddenly soft and reassuring.

“Uh, I don’t know. How about a glass of merlot.” She really didn’t know what to order or what was expected of her.

“And I’ll have a Grey Goose and tonic.”

“Certainly.” And with that, she was off and gone.

The sudden silence was awkward and Samantha suddenly wished the waitress would come back. The booth was plush and dark, nearly hidden from the other tables. It was also surprisingly quiet and she was sure she could hear her own breathing.

Dave leaned over and said “Take them off.”

“What?” Samantha jerked her head around, her eyes wide.

“I said, take them off.”

“Take what off?”

“I want you to take you panties off and hand them to me.”

“Like hell I will!” Her voice was shrill but not loud. Panic clearly in full bloom now. She was NOT going to take her panties off. And she sure as hell was not going to take them off because he demanded it.

Alisa returned with their drinks, placing them gently on the table. “Are we ready to order?”

“Give us a few more minutes Alisa. We are struggling to decide.” Dave’s voice was calm and clear.

“No problem. Take your time.” And with that, she turned and disappeared.

“I told you to wear a thong. In the elevator, I just wanted to see what color you chose. That is all. But you didn’t wear a thong. I don’t know what you call those, but it is not a thong. So I want you take them off and hand them to me. Now.”

Samantha was wild with rage. And panic. How dare he? She kept asking herself that and it was clear his boldness with her knew no bounds. She was trapped in a very public place. They could have stayed at his apartment, but she was the one that demanded they go somewhere. Why was she always off balance with him? Never knowing what would happen next. She certainly never expected this. And then what? What next?

“I’m waiting.” Calm. Firm. Unyielding.

Shit! This is NOT what she wanted. And yet, she was finding herself even more aroused. Why could she not control this? Why did he have this effect on her? “And if I refuse?”

“Then I will get up and walk out. You will never see me again. If you do, I will ignore you. We will never speak. Your choice.”

Shit! Just how far was she willing to go to get her ring back? How long would he hold that over her? What if she just offered to blow him? Or let him fuck her? Would that be enough? Would it ever be enough?

“Suit yourself.” Dave gathered his keys off the table and started to slide out of the booth.

“Wait!” She almost shouted as she grabbed his arm. She had him in a death grip, desperate to not let him get away. Not to let him walk away and just leave her there. Embarrassed. Alone. Rejected. Her ring and her dignity gone forever.

Even if she were willing, how would she slip them off without it being obvious to everyone? She shifted on the wide soft bench trying to figure out how to slide them down discretely. And there it was. The dampness that betrayed her arousal. The thought of handing him a wet pair of panties was just too much to bear. And then what? Her wetness sliding around on the bare leather seat? She was feeling lightheaded and out of control. Utterly at a loss for words and unable to move.

Dave tilted his head slightly as if to ask “Well?”

“OK. OK. I just… I just need a minute.” She was stalling. Trying to figure out what to do. How to do it.. At least she was in a back dark corner, away from most of the prying eyes.

“No. Now. I will count to three and if they are not off and sitting here on the table, I’m leaving. One…”

What? She couldn’t move that fast! And now he wanted them on the table? In plain sight? Why was he doing this to her? Why was he treating her this way? She was horrified and there was no escape. He would either leave her there and disappear. Or she would have to lay here now soaking wet panties on the table. No easy way out. She might as well live another day and keep the hope of her mother’s ring alive. She started shifting, trying to slide her dress up her hips and over the leather seat.

“Two.”

Oh God. Oh God… She was really struggling now. Her desperation leaving her hands clumsy and her mind foggy. She managed to get her dress up around her waist and she hooked her fingers into the edge of her panties. She leaned back hard trying to lift her ass up off the leather seat as she tugged hard at the sides of her panties. She managed to get them halfway down her ass before she fell back down, the leather cool and soothing on her ass. Dave began to look away and she knew he was about to wrestle free and walk. With a final desperate deep breath, she leaned back again one last time and pulled her panties free. They were now down around her knees. As she tried lifting one leg, she bumped her knee on the bottom of the table. How would she ever get them down around her feet and free? She was really feeling lightheaded now. The only way would be to half lay down. Now, pinned against the corner, all she could do was lean into Dave’s chest as she pulled her legs up. He smelled good. She could sense the light starch in his shirt combined with a whisper of cologne that was both intoxicating and stimulating. She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, enjoying Dave’s scent.

Finally, they were free. She sat up and tried to look dignified balling them up as tightly as she could before setting them gently on the edge of the table behind his glass. She immediately looked up at Dave to see if he would grab them. But he didn’t. He just kept looking at her. Staring right into her eyes. Into her soul… She looked away quickly and grabbed her wine drinking, downing its entirety in two huge gulps. The wine was cool on her lips but warm going down. Only it didn’t stop at her stomach. The warmth just kept spreading. Down into her loins, another wave of wetness and tingling in her lips. She shifted slightly only to feel her wetness smearing on the leather seat, wetting her cheeks and thighs.

She took two deep breaths and finally looked up at Dave. He was still watching her. At last, he dropped his gaze to her panties balled up on the white linen table cloth. Samantha could see Alisa heading over and a new wave of panic washed over her as she dropped her gaze and looked down at her lap, trying to avoid her. “Still need a few minutes?”

“Sorry Alisa. Yes. Can you give us just a couple of more minutes? We are still trying to decide a few things.”

“Of course. Mr. Adams. Ill check back with you in a few. Can I get the lady another drink?”

“Yes please. That would be great Thank you.”

Oh God. Did he really have to leave her panties there in full sight? And did he have to have a full conversation with her? Samantha was suddenly aware she would never survive the night. She was quite certain she would die of embarrassment before they finished dinner.

Once the waitress was gone, Dave looked down at the panties once again. He reached for them cupping them in his hand before raising them to his face. Her face was aghast, her mouth open. Not an attractive pose but she was utterly speechless. Turning to face her he held her panties to his face and took a visible deep breath, inhaling long and deep. “My dear Samantha. For all your protests and resistance, I dare say you are rather aroused.” Samantha looked around praying no one was watching. Thankfully, she did not see anyone staring. “And you have a most lovely aroma. Lovely indeed…”

“Please! Can you please put them away so we can order. Please?”

“Very well. But I think I will keep them. As a reminder to you of your disobedience. And as a reminder to me of just how delicious you smell…” And with that, he took one more long deep breath of her wetness then folded them neatly and tucked them inside his suit jacket pocket. At last, they were out of view. “So what would you like this evening? I can recommend the salmon or the filet. I think I will be having the pork loin.”
 
Disobedient?

Bare bottomed, she wiggled uneasily on the cool leather of the booth.

Had he actually said that?

She’d ordered the salmon, or rather Dave had ordered for her. Now she clung to her second glass of Merlot, as if it offered some security against confusion. Her companion seemed perfectly at ease, chatting with the waitress and sipping his grey goose and tonic with a relaxed little smile.

Shifting miserably, Samantha tried to get comfortable. Difficult, in her current panty-less state.

How had she gotten herself into this mess?

Okay. So maybe she hadn’t worn a thong. Still, how did flouting your date’s choice of lingerie translate to ending up half naked in a restaurant?

“Samantha.”

She jumped. Dave’s voice, strong, masculine, and just a little rough, wrapped her name in a caress. Her body perked to attention.

How did he do that?

“Samantha, look at me.” She tensed, her first instinct to refuse. The hesitation was brief. His words might be innocuous, but the tone indicated an order. Did she really want to know what fresh hell Dave might devise if she didn’t comply?

Definitely not.

Besides, she could hardly spend the rest of dinner clutching her wine glass. Wetting her lips, she forced herself to meet his gaze. Difficult. The fact that her naked behind kept sliding over the leather of the booth, made slick by her own arousal, did not help matters.

Dave’s hazel gaze locked onto hers. “Give me your hand.”

What?!

Samantha gaped, unable to break eye contact. First he’d forced her to take off her panties. In public, no less. Then he’d made her set them on the table for all the world to see. Okay, maybe not the world, honesty compelled her to amend, but certainly the waitress. Now he wanted to hold her hand?

“Give me your hand.” Dave’s expression was still neutral, but his voice held a slightly impatient edge.

Unclenching her fingers from the base of her wine glass, she nervously slid her right hand across the table, palm up. Dave set his hand over hers, slowly, deliberately.

“Relax.” His voice took on a soothing tone, like warm maple syrup pooling on a plate.

To her surprise, she did. Just a little. The weight of his larger hand on hers was actually rather calming, comforting even. The muscles in her neck and shoulders actually eased, just for a moment, until he started stroking lazy little circles across her wrist with his finger tips. Electricity shot through her nerve endings, straight up her arm and down to her clit.

Oh. My. God.

Samantha gasped, and squeezed her thighs together. A fresh, humiliating wetness accompanied the tingling heat in her nether regions. Hysterical laughter bubbled up from nowhere, threatening to escape her throat. Her she was, sitting panty-less, in a booth, with a man who’d forced her inconveniently naked state. And she was more aroused, more needy than she could ever recall being.

Dave, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort, continued his gentle stroking. Sliding his fingers around until his hand cupped hers, his thumb traced circles in her palm, making her pussy pulse and throb. With his free hand, Dave slipped a box onto the white linen tablecloth.

“Open it.” He released her hand and sat back.

Samantha stared at the small square object. Was it possible? Stretching out a suddenly shaking hand, she picked up the familiar box. Fingers trembling, she lifted the lid.

Her mother’s ring.

Dumfounded, she stared at the two interlocking diamonds nestled against the box’s silk lining.

“I thought you might like to have it back.” Dave’s voice was casual, as though her wasn’t offering her heart’s desire.

Samantha met his smiling gaze, making no effort to hide her astonishment. An urge to cry surged up back behind her eyes, the relief was so great. It took a couple of deep breaths to steady her emotions. A question hovered on her lips.

Why?

Why, after turning down her attempt to buy back the ring was he offering it to her now? She looked up to find Dave watching her. He smiled, genuinely enough, but a little self-satisfied, a little smug. Samantha’s heart thumped a warning in her chest. Nothing was ever as straight forward with Dave as it seemed, better not ask and risk him changing his mind.

“Thank you.” Closing the lid carefully, she curled the box tightly into her hand. “I can pay.”

“No.” Dave still smiled, but the monosyllable came out short and clipped.

“What?” Samantha blinked at him in surprise. Fear sprang up from nowhere, rocking her momentary sense of security. It took an effort not to clutch the ring box to her chest protectively.

“No, I won’t take your money.” His patient, slightly condescending tone sent her blood racing in a completely different way than earlier. She forced herself to take a breath, regain her temper. She was hardly a child to be talked down to.

You’re trapped in a booth. Panty-less.

Point taken. Perhaps, just this once, discretion might be the better part of valor. Samantha made an effort to steady her voice. “Why won’t you take my money?”

“You wouldn’t be paying me. Your ex-boyfriend would.” Dave drained his glass and motioned to the waitress. “I’m hardly going to release you from one bondage into another.”

Samantha went rigid. Something about the way the word bondage rolled so glibly off his tongue conjured pictures of…all kinds of deliciously naughty things. A faint mewl made it’s way past her parted lips. Dave kept his gaze locked on her face, the faint curve of his mouth suggesting he knew, and approved, her imaginings. Without warning, she blushed.

Damn the man!

Alisa rushed up, conveniently for once. Samantha took advantage of Dave’s distraction to marshall her thoughts. Thoughts that wouldn’t seem to gel into any type of cohesive form.

More wine.

She gulped her merlot. The liquid burned all the way down her throat and spread a comfortable warmth down through her pelvis. The half empty glass stared at her accusingly. Guilt twinged faintly. Hardly the way to treat good wine, and her second glass at that. At this rate she’d be tipsy before the food arrived.

Steady, girl.

No way could she let Dave “give” her the ring. Aside from everything else she’d feel obligated. Obligation implied favors. The mere concept of which made her twitch ruefully in her seat. Her thoughts flew straight to doing “favors” for Dave. Samantha suppressed a whiny little moan, suddenly light headed. She pushed her half full glass towards the center of the table. No more alcohol, she’d had too much as it was. Clearly.

Their waitress continued to linger after taking Dave’s drink order. He smiled, taking it in stride, flirting back lazily. Samantha watched, growing more and more irritated. Not that she was jealous. Absolutely not. Still, she wanted to snarl when Alisa made an excuse to run her hand along Dave’s bicep.

Dave turned and took in her half empty glass. “Another drink?”

“No, thank you.” The words pinged out like pennies on ice.

Her companion lifted an eyebrow.

She’d forgotten, just for a moment, that this wasn’t actually a date. She was here to get her ring back and tie things up with Dave. That was all. “I’d really feel more comfortable if you let me reimburse your cost for the ring.”

Dave sat back and gave her his complete attention, letting his gaze run over her mouth before dipping down to her cleavage. Heat bloomed…everywhere. Samantha squirmed in her seat, the dichotomy of hot, naked thigh pressed against cool leather making her even more aware of her growing desperation.

“Why?”

“Why what?” She clasped both hands together in her lap, confused.

“Why would you feel more comfortable?” Dave sipped at his fresh drink, completely at ease.

Samantha wriggled on her bottom. Her very bare bottom. “I…”

“An easy question surely?” Dave reached out and slid her wine glass back towards her. “Do you really want to owe your ex boyfriend money?”

“Of course not!” she spluttered indignantly. The last thing she wanted was to owe Mark anything.

Oh God. Dinner. Tomorrow night.

Her wine, ring, and arousal induced glow dulled a little. She filed the thought of Mark, and her commitment to him, away for later. Tonight she had Dave to deal with, and he was already more than she could handle.

“Well then, it’s settled.” Dave sat back with his relaxed, easy smile.

What?! Like hell it was!

The man was infuriating, and confusing, and just so…damned attractive. Alisa’s arrival with the food prevented her from continuing the argument. Just as well. It was hardly going her way. Did it ever with Dave? Samantha sat helplessly as she was served. What was she going to do? No way could she let Dave, who was practically a stranger, “give” her back her ring. She risked a quick glance at his face. So calm. So domineering. So very, very used to getting his own way.

He grinned at her, a sexy wide curve of mouth, and lay his napkin in his lap. Samantha swallowed, her throat dry. Okay, so he also happened to be a hot stranger, but a stranger nevertheless.

“How is your salmon?” Dave asked, glancing at her untouched plate.

What?

Riveted by the stark contrast of his tan skin against the crisp white shirt collar, she'd been staring. Flustered, she realized he was waiting for her to sample the fish before he started in on his own food. Samantha hastily picked up her fork and took a small bite of salmon.

Heavenly. It practically melted on her tongue. “It’s spectacular.”

Dave nodded, looking genuinely pleased, and forked up a mouthful of pork loin.

She sat perfectly still, her own cutlery suspended, reeling from the impact of his pleasure. When he wanted to be he was so attractive, so appealing. She gave herself a little shake.

Stop it. You don’t want to like him, remember?

Sometimes, Dave made that very hard to remember. Particularly when he caught her off guard, and showed her the genuine warmth hidden under his polished, controlled facade. Samantha risked another sip of wine to still the butterflies in her stomach. It steadied her, a little, and gave her a moment to think. She really couldn’t accept the ring, no matter how attractive she found her dinner companion.

Dave reached over unexpectedly and stroked her bare arm, a gentle glide of fingers kissing her skin. His touch fired an overwhelming cascade of desire. Urgent, and hot. The tops of her thighs clenched involuntarily, something they seemed to be doing a lot of lately. An acute awareness of her nipples, straining against the lace of her bra, caused her breath to catch raggedly.

The man was just so damn sexy! Her heart thumped erratically in her chest from one simple touch. How could that be normal?

Get a grip!

Okay. She’d be moving out of her apartment soon. Maybe she could leave Dave’s money in the office? Or better yet, pay it ahead on his rent. She still owed him for the rescue of her eviction notice.

Brilliant!

Taking another mouthful of salmon, she watched him eat. That strong jaw; she shivered a little. It warned of a temper, even if she’d never really seen it. He wouldn’t be pleased to find she’d returned his money, but what could he do, once she was gone? Nodding to herself, she took a bite of the roasted parsnips and carrots accompanying her fish. Delicious.

Yes. Definitely the best solution. That would still leave her having to deal with Mark, a thought that drove out her pleasure in the food. But, one thing at a time. The decision made, anxiety rolled off her like a heavy mantle. Suddenly, she felt elated.

“Another drink.” Dave asked.

“Please.” She almost giggled her acceptance.

He looked at her curiously. Samantha gave him a wide smile, happy, and grateful to feel so unburdened, so safe and secure. She didn’t even care if the feeling was temporary. Dave stroked her arm again, leisurely, as if he just enjoyed the contact with her skin. This time, she didn’t flinch, just let the pleasure of his touch roll over her like a wave of liquid heat. It caressed her insides and wandering down her belly to the inside of her thighs, settling like a possessive hand between her legs.

Okay. Definitely too much wine.

Samantha smoothed her skirt and picked up her glass. Tipsy, maybe, but she didn’t care. For the first time in what seemed forever, she dropped her guard and just let herself just feel. She had her ring, her apartment, and to be honest, was enjoying her time with Dave.

He took your panties.

Brushing the inconvenient thought away, she focused on Dave’s conversation. He was well traveled; an amusing conversationalist. Everywhere he’d been, everything he’d seem came alive when he talked, opening up fascinating vistas of places she longed to see but had yet to visit.

When the flirty waitress cleared their plates, she barely noticed.

“Would you like dessert?” Dave’s hand dropped from the table to trail lightly across the top of her thigh.

Samantha froze, struggling with a crazy, nearly overmastering urge to open her legs. The throbbing in her pussy, constant throughout the evening, was now making her half crazy. If Dave touched her now, here in the restaurant, she might not be able to raise a token protest. Might even beg him to continue.

A breathy little gasp accompanied the thought, louder than expected, and wholly embarrassing. She really, really, really needed to get out of the restaurant. To get home. To be alone.

Home was safe.
 
Dave could feel her tense immediately upon the touch of his hand on her thigh. And it seemed to be coincident with the light gasp from her lips when Alysa asked if they’d like dessert. Turning to the waitress he offered a sly grin and said. “We’ll have the Crème Brulee. With two spoons.”

“Of course Mr. Adams. Anything else to drink this evening?”

“No, I think we’re good. Thank you.” And with that, she turned and was gone.

Samantha looked around the restaurant and could see it was packed. No doubt, a difficult walk ahead of her just to get to some fresh air. Fresh air she desperately needed. The wine was really hitting home. She was feeling flush all over. Her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. Nearly as warm as her thighs. And while her nipples were normally only erect when it was cold, they were positively aching now. And now Dave’s hand was on her thigh. A warm hand, large and strong.

“Are you OK? You’ll share a Crème Brulee with me won’t you?” His hand giving her a light and gentle stroke along the inside of her thigh. Her flesh was silky smooth and decidedly warm to the touch and Dave couldn’t help but wonder how they might feel wrapped around his face, pressed tightly against his ears.

She was staring straight down at the table, trying not to pass out. “Umm yeah sure. No, I mean that will be fine.” She was really trying to get her feet back under. Only moments ago, she felt relaxed and at ease. Almost enjoying herself. But it was fleeting. The tension of her ever present money woes, having to deal with Mark again after she had just broken up with him, the ring, Dave stealing kisses without her consent, if not her desire, and the humiliation of the panties this evening were all just so overwhelming.

He could sense the inner struggle she was facing and his heart felt for her. She was so beautiful and he could see so much in her. In the fleeting times when she seemed lost in the moment and naturally relaxed, he saw a sparkling smile. One filled with joy and happiness. He could see her laughing and dancing spontaneously in the street. A generous spirit that could be giving and fun loving. And yet, she seemed to lack the slightest bit of self-confidence. Everything that confronted her seemed to take on the weight of the world. As if her every reaction to a circumstance were a matter of life or death. Not literally of course, but surely she felt an intense need to make the ‘right’ decision. Every time. It was that never ending internal struggle that was wearing her down to a frightening state. He was now genuinely concerned about her well-being and wanted desperately to make her feel relaxed. “Hey. Look at me.” Dave’s tone was firm but gentle.

Samantha raised her head slowly and turned to look at him. She was still facing more down than up, looking into his eyes sheepishly and scared.

He placed his hand gently under her chin as he spoke. “I want you to relax. I want you to enjoy this evening. I want you to share this dessert with me.” She continued looking at him with a blank stare to thepoint he wasn’t sure if she was hearing him much less comprehending what he was saying. “OK. Tell you what. Do me a favor. I’m going to step out to the men’s room and I’m going to take my time while I am in there. While I’m gone, I want you to close your eyes and count to ten to clear your mind. Then I want you to think long and hard about this evening. Think about everything that has happened tonight. Because you look positively distraught. I wanted you to enjoy this evening. It’s a fantastic place, the food was great and I would hope my companionship this evening wasn’t all that bad. You even got your ring back. Which I had hoped would have made you happy. At this point, I don’t know what you want. But I don’t want you to be unhappy. When I come back, I want you to tell me if you want to stay and eat dessert or if you want to leave and go home. And if you want to leave right away, we will leave. I will take you straight home and you will never have to face me again. Promise.”

The stare was still blank. What was this? Some kind of ultimatum? It felt like just another trap he was laying for her. OK so most of the traps till now she had laid for herself. Still, he was taking the upper hand. Again. It felt like there was no good answer and she was beginning to feel lightheaded again.

“Samantha, I think you are beautiful. You’re smart and witty. And strong willed too.” With that he paused and grinned. “I know you are having some struggles right now, but seriously, I’m just trying to have a date with you. I didn’t imagine giving you the ring back would start a fight. I gave it to you because I wanted you to have it back. I know how much it meant to you. So I will leave you for a moment. And when I get back, you tell me what you want to do.” With that, he slid out of the booth, worked his way through the tables and was gone.

Her first reaction once he left the booth was to count to ten, then follow him and race out the door. To run away. Like she wanted to every time she felt out of control. What was happening to her? In the time it took her to take a breath and gain some energy to bolt, she caught herself thinking of his direction. It just seemed so damned reasonable didn’t it? Take a breath, consider the moment and decide. Not to mention, she had this deep dark fear for displeasing him. The thought of doing something less than he asked scared her as much as anything else she had faced. But why? Where was this coming from? Why did she feel this need to please him? To do as he she was told?

The walk to the restroom was light and easy. As were most things for Dave. He was comfortable in any surroundings. Stopping by the hostess stand, he told the pretty woman he was stepping outside for some fresh air and would be back. It was unnecessary of course. He was well known there and there was never any fear of his stepping out on a check. More, it was a lame excuse to chat up the pretty woman at the front. Part of him half expected to see her come rushing through the door on her escape. But he hoped you she would not. He hoped she would relax and accept the evening for what it was. What it was intended to be.

As she had since she met him, she did as he asked. She really wasn’t sure why, but she did. Lowering her head, she closed her eyes and counted to ten. Raising her head, she opened her eyes and look around. No sign of Dave yet. Patrons eating all around her. And for the first time, she didn’t feel like everyone was staring at her. So had bad had it been? The only things she didn’t like about the evening were the incident in the elevator and then again here at the restaurant when he made her take her panties off. And yet, those two experiences left her wet and aching. She realized for perhaps the first time why. Each time he had been firm, even forceful, were the very times when she felt alive. His touch had a way of bringing her flesh to life, tingling and sensitive. His kisses had been hard, passionate and full of life. Most recently, his hand on her thigh made her long for his hand firmly between her legs. The struggles she felt seemed to be hers. Now she had her ring back and her rent paid. And now that she thought about it, he really never did anything to make her feel guilty. That had been all her.

“Well? What do you say?” His voice made her jump, shaking her from her trance. Dave was there standing over her at the edge of the booth. Looking down as if he were giving her the space and opportunity to leave if she chose without pinning her in the booth and making an already difficult situation all the more difficult for her. “Dessert? Or go home?”

“Dessert. Crème Brulee sounds good.” The smile may have been a little forced, but it was sincere.

“Excellent!” He said with a hint of true enthusiasm. Sliding into the booth next to her, he turned and looked straight at her, his eyes, deep, dark and intense. “I’m glad you chose to stay. Dessert should be the highlight of every meal. To be savored and enjoyed with a beautiful woman…”

She might as well enjoy the evening. What’s not to enjoy? She was having dessert after a wonderful meal. And she was with a handsome man who made her wet with his very touch. Speaking of touch, his hand returned to her thigh, a little further inside this time which caused her to wiggle slightly in approval. Followed by another rush of adrenaline and another release of wetness. An acknowledgement and acceptance not lost on Dave. Progress? Perhaps. The dessert was excellent like the rest of the meal and with every bite, Samantha seemed to relax a little. The talk was light and fun as they finished the dish and prepared to go.

Dave slid out of the booth and offered his hand while she slid across the seat, mindful of her prolonged wetness and quickly pulled her dress down as she stood next to the table. Sensing her uneasiness as she stood, he pulled her close, his hand tight around her waist guiding her to the door and out into the open atrium area. The light breeze in the air was cool and refreshing. Every breath and every step seemed to clear her mind and by the time they reached the building, she was feeling like her old self. Without the stress. Dave stepped up and opened the door for her as she walked though, heading to the elevator. He followed her in, admiring her once again. She was lovely. Lovely indeed. But not like all the other models. She had a beauty and sexiness that aroused him greatly.

The doors opened as they stepped in. She pushed the number “9” and as the doors closed he reached out for her arm, spinning her around and pulling her to him. One hand around her waist holding her tight, the other rising up her back, along the silky material of her dress, transitioning to soft smooth skin and finally running up under her hair, along her neck and to the back of her head pulling her to him. His mouth met hers, rough and aggressive. His lips pressing hard on one side, his hand holding her firm on the other. It was what she needed, what she craved. More than she realized it before. Where his previous kisses were resisted, this one was not only welcomed, it was desired. A loud moan rose from deep within her as her legs began to weaken, arms wrapping around his neck. Who was this man that drove her so wild with lust? She barely knew him and yet, she wanted him more than any man before. She wanted to taste him. Wanted to feel his cock driving into her. She wanted him to take her. Any way he wanted. That’s the way she wanted him. And she returned his kiss with an equal fervor, her hands clawing at his hair. It was the first time his advances had been welcomed and he wasted no time taking advantage, backing her against the wall and pressing into her. She could feel his hands all over her now, cupping her breast and squeezing hard, fingers pinching at her aching nipples through the thin fabric of her dress. God she wanted him so bad! The hard pinch of her nipples shooting shivers through her body. Another loud moan escaped her lips as she dropped her head and bit him hard on the neck. One legging rising and wrapping around him, his hips pressing into her, one thigh pressed hard between her legs, grinding against her aching pussy.

Now this was the woman he wanted to see. The woman he wanted to awaken. To feel. To taste. To take. And here, in the elevator, she was everything he imagined. She was eager, and wanting. Attacking him with the same passion he had for her. She felt strong in his hands, a lioness awakened and fierce. He movements were fluid and skilled and eager. If this is how she kissed, he could only imagine what she would be like behind more private closed doors. His cock was throbbing and aching for attention, for touch as he ground his hardness against her.

The bell rang as the car reached the ninth floor, the doors opening with a hiss. Dave pulled away causing her to moan her disapproval. Truth was, she wanted him then. Now. In the elevator, she did not care. She was already bare under her dress and desperately wanted his cock. She didn’t even care if anyone had seen them. As he broke away, she suddenly felt empty and helpless, desperate to feel his hands on her again. He grabbed her hand and practically drug her down the long hallway. Why couldn’t his door have been closer to the elevator?! Samantha was on fire. Her very being, every fiber on fire. Raw and desperate for attention. Reaching the door, Dave dug in his pocket for his keys as her hands wrapped around him from behind. Holding him tight, her hands clawing at his chest and cock.

Turning the knob, they stumbled into the foyer, a tangle of arms and legs, mouths and lips. She loved his hard hands on her. Firm, strong, unyielding. They were facing each other now as he backed them into the room. Bruising kisses and tongue duels as they swallowed each other, his hands dragging the hem of her dress up, exposing her bare ass. Gripping her hard, lifting her on her toes, her hands tangled in his hair again. The feeling of his hands on her ass brought another moan to her lips as she ground her hips against him, searching for his hardened cock. God she wanted him so bad. She needed him, needed his cock. She could feel her wetness running between her thighs, his hands on her bare skin causing another rush of wetness.

Dave felt the back of the couch pressing on the back of his legs, stopping their progress. Before she knew what had happened, Samantha found herself spun around and bent her over the back of the couch, as he pushed her dress up over back forcefully. “What the…” Before she could say another word, she felt one hand on her back holding her firmly in place and the other running roughly between her legs. His hand was warm and rough on her, sliding back and forth across her aching lips, smearing her wetness. Strong circular motions rubbing her clit hard, taking her to the edge.

She had never been this wet, never felt an aching need for release like she did just then. He could feel her trying to rock back against his hand, desperate for more of his touch. Begging for her release. She could feel a slight change in the motion of his hands when he trust his thumb firmly in her cunt while he continued rubbing her clit with his fingers. Samantha’s head lurched up as she let out a growl knowing her release was near. His thumb was now pressing how hard on her spot deep in her cunt, the webbing between his thumb and finger grinding against her aching clit. “Argh!!! Ohhhh!!! Ahhhh!!!”

He could feel her clamping down on his hand as she bucked back against him as hard as the couch would allow. Her head was shaking side to side as she gasped for air and grunted as he continued his assault on her. His hand thrusting in and out, her juices producing a wet, slapping sound. Samantha’s crashing orgasm consumed her body as she convulsed around his hand. Stars dancing before her eyes, she struggled to catch her breath, gasps strained and haggard as her body continued to shudder. As if he knew she could take no more, he began easing his assault on her cunt, becoming slower, more gentle until at last, he was ever so slowly gently rubbing and stroking her pussy.

Leaning over, Dave wrapped an arm around her waist, gently raising her up as he nuzzled the back of her neck hoarsely growling in her ear… “Now it’s my turn my little sweet…”

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Author’s note: Well it took us a while to get through the character and scene build up, but we are finally into the sex. Endless Night and I would be very interested in any comments, reviews or critiques you might choose to share with us as we move this story forward.
 
What just happened?

Samantha sagged into the comforting strength of Dave’s body, necessary support as her trembling legs didn’t seem to want to support her weight.

She’d orgasmed. Hard.

Amazing, as she’d already cum once, from her earlier session in the shower. Still shaking, she tried to catch her breath. Two orgasms in one day. A personal best. And what had that been in the elevator? The hall? Samantha winced, her mind trying to catch up to the whirlwind of events. Not only had she met Dave’s kisses head on, she’d practically attacked him as he tried to retrieve his keys. The next thing she knew she’d been bent over the couch, Dave coaxing, fondling, demanding her orgasm.

Dave.

One hand stroked down her bare arm, the other tightened around her waist. “Now it’s my turn my little sweet.…”

Her nipples, traitors that they were, puckered instantly, almost painfully. Dave pulled her closer, tightening the arm encircling her waist. His free hand brushed her hair aside, allowing his hot mouth travel the long column of her neck. Every place he touched burned like fire. Samantha gripped the back of the couch for support.

“Take off your dress.”

She didn’t move, still too dazed to act on what was clearly an order. Dave wasted no time on a second directive. His practiced hands made short work of her zipper. Her bra went next, a simple twist of hook and eye. The construct of lace and wire clung firmly to the rounded contour of her breasts. Dave snarled his disapproval, shoving the offending garment aside.

He turned her around almost roughly, allowing his fingertips to graze the sides of her breasts, before cupping them and running an impatient thumb across each nipple. Samantha mewled her pleasure, arching automatically into his fingers. She’d reached the point of no longer caring about consequences. She needed Dave, needed his hands on her, needed his cock.

Her companion in lust abandoned his light touch, taking hold of each each nipple and rolling them between thumb and forefinger. Moaning openly, Samantha arched further, begging for more. He quickly obliged, administering a few tugs for good measure, each successively rougher and less gentle. The aggressive handling of her tender buds stimulated her shocked clitoris, It swelled, aching with an, as yet, unfocused need.

Dave loosed her unexpectedly, taking a step back and lowering his hands. Samantha growled, a confused little protest.

Why was he stopping?

“Unbutton my shirt.” His firm tone was accompanied by a stern look.

Oh! She stepped forward immediately, grateful for the chance to hide her face and occupy her hands. Their exhibition of uncontrolled passion had unnerved her, pushed her off balance. She needed a moment to regroup, regain control. Her fingers fumbled a little at their set task, trying to separate the minuscule disks from their fabric prisons.

It was an accident, the first time she grazed his skin with the tip of a finger. Dave gasped, his whole body shuddering. His response prompted her to more, deliberately contrived caresses. By the time she had every button undone he was openly panting, fighting his own battle for control. The knowledge gave her a wicked thrill; she felt empowered and exultant.

Dave yanked off his shirt and inhaled, a deep, steadying breath. Gently, he took hold of her chin, establishing eye contact. Samantha’s heart jolted in her chest. Any pretensions she had of control evaporated under Dave’s feral expression. The next moment his free hand was tracing a lazy line down her ribs, over the curve of her hip, before detouring to the juncture between her thighs. Before she could react, he slid two fingers between her legs.

Samantha jumped, her pussy still sensitive from the orgasm. The involuntary response allowed her to break eye contact, though it did little to dissipate her sense of helplessness. Dave still had her trapped against the couch. Fear fluttered in her stomach, mixing almost pleasantly with desire. What was going to happen now? She wet her lips nervously.

He’d brought her to orgasm. Amazingly quickly.

She filed the thought away for dissection at a later, more opportune moment. Now, a little reciprocation was in order, surely? What did he want? A blow job, maybe? The latter seemed a safe bet, and would put her back in control. Samantha placed both hands at Dave’s waist, enjoying the tease of his body heat as her fingers brushed against his exposed abs. She reached for his belt.

“No.”

What? She blinked in surprise.

“Look at me.”

Samantha flinched. Meeting Dave’s gaze was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Now, Samantha.”

His tone would not be denied. Pressing back against the couch in an effort to brace herself, she willed herself to look up. Dave held his stance, his hand still loosely cupping her between the legs. His hazel gaze locked immediately with her own more uncertain one.

“Spread your legs.”

She wanted to argue, to make at least a token protest. But the desire to please him, to obey the command proved stronger. In the end she said nothing, merely shifted her weight to comply.

Slowly, deliberately, he manipulated his hand, sliding two fingers between the folds of her labia to nestle up firmly on either side of her clit. Samantha gulped, struggling to hold eye contact, struggling to hold position. Dave slipped a finger inside her channel.

He sighed; a sound of pleasure. “You’re so wet, Samantha. So very wet.”

Embarrassment crashed over body like a tidal wave. It was true, she was achingly, desperately, crazy wet. She look away, awkward at her body’s arousal.

“Look a me.” The command was more gentle this time, edged with what might have been satisfaction.

She focused on his chin first, lingering on his mouth before finally working her way up to meet his confident stare. Dave smiled again. “Good girl.”

Her pussy clenched at the praise, a frisson of pure pleasure vibrating between her legs. Dave moved, just a hint of intention, and she met him. Allowing her hands free reign, they roved over his chest, his shoulders. He made a noise, a rumble of pleasure deep in his chest and throat. Samantha promptly lost her mind. Throwing inhibition to the wind, she wrapped one arm around his neck and stood on tiptoe, rubbing her parted lips along the line of his exposed collar bone.

Dave rewarded her with another growl of approval. Scooping her up in his arms, he used one hand to support her derriere, the other to brace her back. Surrendering to the inevitable, Samantha wrapped both legs around his waist, tightening her grip around his shoulders.

Finally. Sex with Dave.

Passionate. Raw. A one time thing, she assured herself dizzily. Just to get him out of her head. Afterwards she could move on with her life instead of fantasizing about her unpredictable, wildly sexy neighbor.

To her surprise, they only traveled a few feet before he released his grip, setting her down on the large, rectangular ottoman in the living room. Released from the comfort oh his arms, she sat, acutely aware of her nakedness.

“Turn around and lay on your stomach.”

What?

Stifling a protest, she slithered onto her knees and laying forward on the ottoman. Behind her, she could hear Dave, stripping off the rest of his clothes. It took less than a minute before he was behind her on the floor, his knees between hers, forcing her thighs wide. Splayed open as she was underscored her helplessness. Anxiety welled up and burst like a bubble, allowing uncertainly to gain the upper hand. Scrabbling for purchase, she struggled to get up.

Dave’s hands gripped her hips. “No. Stretch your hands out to the table legs. Don’t let go.”

What??

Full on panicked now, she made a desperate bid to regain control. “But -“

A sharp slap on the rear cut short her protest. Samantha squealed. And reached blindly until her fumbling fingers found the table.

Dear God. What had she gotten herself into?

Now that she was compliant, Dave resumed his handling of her flesh. His knees urged her thighs apart even further, exposing her pussy fully. Using his hands he kneaded her cheeks, stroking and occasionally delivering light pinches to delicate parts of her anatomy. Samantha whimpered, burying her face into the leather, eyes squeezed shut.

Why didn’t he just fuck her?

After what seemed an eternity, there was pressure against her pelvic floor. It stopped almost immediately, holding steady but not actually penetrating. She wiggled a protest, which earned her another smart, stingy slap on the behind.

“Be still.”

Dear God. Was he kidding?

Her tormentor continued to play, teasing and rubbing the head of his cock across the opening to her pussy. Samantha bit her lip, struggling to stay still. She could feel her wetness increasing as she became more and more desperate for his cock. The head of which was now slick with juice from her arousal.

Samantha writhed in frustrated lust. Just as she knew she couldn’t take one more moment of teasing Dave relented. The head of his cock pressed forward, separating the folds of her passage and delivering the most delicious jolt of pressure. A partial thrust so purely satisfying she caught her breath, unable to do anything other than let pleasure slide into every crevice of her mind and body.

Dave pulled out almost immediately.

“No!” She promptly lost control, straining backwards, trying to recapture penetration. Her struggles earned her another sharp slap on the ass, harder this time. Samantha squealed and went still.

Dear God. What was he doing?

Fingers digging into the couch, her body screamed its dissent. She wanted, needed, to be fucked. Now. “Please.” The word slipped from her lips, a whispered pleading.

Dave stilled instantly. “What?”

Samantha squirmed. What fresh hell was this? He knew. He knew perfectly well what she needed, what her body craved so eagerly. Angrily, She bit her lip, determined not to play this strange game. Dave waited, one long moment, then resumed his external play, this time letting an occasional finger nudge against her pulsing clit.

“Please, what?” He asked, allowing the head of his cock to rub teasingly across her opening, as though waiting to be invited inside.

Dear. God.

Samantha struggled. She really did. The last thing she wanted was to concede one more thing to this exasperating, domineering, controlling man. Short, little panting gasps allowed her to keep silent.

Dave chuckled, and shifted. Pressure lessened, the promise of his cock filling her disappeared.

Samantha panicked.

“Please! Please fuck me! Please!” Once she started begging she couldn’t stop. Her body joined in, making little rocking motions, her pussy pleading for his cock.

“Be still.” The sharp edge of displeasure reminded her who was in charge. She caught her bottom lip, and pressed her cheek into the buttoning of the leather. The effort to stop rocking brought on quivering little spasms in her legs.

“Good girl.”

Her pussy clenched immediately at the praise. A moan, desperate and utterly needy, slipped out before she could stop it. Beads of perspiration begin to gather along her hairline.

Dear God. She needed to be fucked.

“Now. Let’s try this again. Please, what?”

Samantha wanted to scream her frustration. What did he want? What could he possibly want? Her body had been clenched so tightly, for so long. Her thighs, splayed so lewdly, were starting to ache. Soon she wouldn’t be able to hold position, keep still. Distraught tears formed at the back of her eyes. Was Dave trying to torture her?

Dave. Could it be as simple as that?

“Dave! Please! Please, fuck me, Dave. Pleeeeease.” This time her voice shook. All vestiges of control lost in her desperation to have Dave fill her with his hard, delicious cock.

A growl of satisfaction told her Dave approved. He entered her in one thrust, slow, firm, and deep. The relief, the satisfaction brought an answering growl from deep within her chest. Her pussy clutched at his cock, unwilling to let it set the pace. Dave thwarted her, keeping his movements steady, controlled.

It. Felt. So. Good.

Dave still held her legs wide. The position opened her, not only exposing her to his gaze, but putting pressure on her clit when he thrust forward. His strokes found a rhythm, crowding her over sensitized button against the leather upholstery. It was enough that Dave’s cock stretched her, filling her to a point of sated pleasure. The additional friction across her labia and tender clit drove her forward, sensation accompanied by a faint, tantalizing edge of pain.

Dear God.

She was going to cum again. A third time! The realization hit right before the orgasm. This time there was little warning, no soft, languorous build. This time it crashed over her like a rogue wave, mixing pleasure and pain so tightly there was no chance of disentangling the two. Samantha couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t move, for several thundering beats of her heart. Then movement flowed again, sending aftershocks rippling across her belly like touches of liquid heat.
 
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OOC - Apologies for the long delay in getting the latest chapter posted. Hope the wait was worth it...


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The pause gave Dave a chance to reflect. Unlike most men, he was thoughtful, analytical, absorbing the moment with every sense. She was not sexy. Not like the models with whom he had become so accustomed. No, she was not sexy. But she WAS beautiful. And not just beautiful, she had a buried sensuality probably few if any had ever seen. He was quite sure she had never seen it in herself.

She had fought it of course. Fought it hard. And yes, she had been fighting against him also. But in the end, this was not about him. It was about her. Lost, unsure, and needing focus. Desperately needing affirmation for something. It was a long journey, if not a few short days. And it was not until that moment in the restaurant earlier that evening that she finally started to trust. Trust in him and ultimately trust in herself. He gave her a chance to leave, with her ring. And she chose to stay. Little did she know it was just the beginning of her journey that evening.

It was little surprise in fact when she orgasmed as hard and fast as she did by his hand. By the time she had been bent over the couch, and roughly violated, her resistance was little more than token. He knew it and she knew it. It would have taken more than a firm hand on her back or between her legs had her protests been genuine. In her mind, she may not have wanted it. Not yet. But in her heart, in her soul and in her aching loins, she didn’t just want it. She needed it. He knew it. It was just a matter of showing her.

“Dave! Please! Please, fuck me, Dave. Pleeeeease.” She was finally broken. Beyond begging. Dave actually paused for a moment, mindful of the ‘damage’ he could do had he not obliged her desperate need. His own need was equally intense. Unlike her, he had yet to cum. Yet indeed. His cock was aching, throbbing and glistening with her sweet wetness in the faint light. At last, she relented and gave up all resistance. “Dave! Please! Please, fuck me, Dave. Pleeeeease.” The words echoing in his ears…

His natural instinct would have been to sink his fingers into her fleshy hips and drive his cock into her with hard and unforgiving thrusts. But this was no ditzy model. This was Samantha. A precious soul now offering her greatest gift to him. The gift of her submission. Of her acceptance of her most primal need. And he wanted her to savor this as much as he wanted to remember their first coupling. He wanted her to feel nothing but his cock. Assuming she would remember anything of the evening. She was clearly on an emotional rollercoaster and had crashed through a barrier she didn’t even know she had. She was now panting, sweating, straining, clenching and aching. Emotional overload and yet, she remembered his name.

The thought made him smile as he began… With his hands down at his side, Dave leaned forward slowly feeling his cock bounce with anticipation. As soon as the head touched her soaking lips, they both let out a gasp as if a jolt of electricity had suddenly made a connection. The heat was incredible as the pressure continued, his thick head pressing into and the ever so slowly parting of her lips. Still pressing until finally, his head was inside her. He was barely inside her and yet, he could feel her clinching, her cheeks twitching sexily in the faint light. Slowly, little by little, he continued pushing inside her, the fiery walls of her cunt stretching and parting to make room for him.

She felt amazing. Dave prided himself on living in the moment, enjoying each and every fuck he ever had. But this one, this one was sweeter than any other. This conflicted, brooding neighbor, so full of repressed sexual energy was turning out to be more incredible than he imagined. And he had imagined her being great. Now, as he continued thrusting into her at a snail’s pace, he wondered if he might cum before he was even buried inside her. He could feel her clinching, trying to hold it. Releasing with each gasp before clamping back down on him. Which made her unbelievably tight. So constantly tight that he was having to actually press into her with some force. Just to get deeper. Unbelievably tight. And wet. And hot. Amazing. He wondered how long she keep clamping down on him. Just as wondered how long he could hold out with such incredible sensations enveloping his cock. And his mind…

Close. He was getting close. Close to cuming. And close to finally reaching her depths. He could feel the heat of her thighs although they were still not touching. Close. Beads of sweat had broken out down her spine. Down his chest. The intensity of the moment taking its toll on them both. Sensing the end of his push, Dave took a deep breath and leaned his body into her. A low guttural grunt escaped his lips as he both heard and felt her gasp loudly as he finally bottomed out, buried completely in her. Pushing against her with all his weight, he could feel her pressed down against the edge of the ottoman when she suddenly jerked and spasmed. Rather than pulling back and thrusting into her again, he held her pinned down, grinding her clit into the leather edge.

She was panting hard now as he pulled back, releasing her sore clit from the leather press as he slowly withdrew. She was clinching again hard, trying to keep him inside her as he continued his withdrawal until the head of cock just started to release her folds before sliding back in in one smooth thrust, pressing her back into the leather before rocking back. Samantha’s breathing was haggard and rough and he picked up the pace. Pulling back and driving into her, pulling back and driving. His hands found their way to her hips as he held her tight, pulling her back into him roughly with each progressively harder thrust.

“Arrrrgggghhhhh!!!” Without warning, Samantha let out a howl and suddenly started shaking uncontrollably. It was the final sensation to take Dave over the edge.

“Unnnnnggggghhhhhh!!!!” He grunted in concert with her howl thrusting hard and deep as he began to erupt inside her. She was shaking and convulsing under his grip and he could feel the waves of her orgasm wracking deep inside her as he pulsed and flinched, filling her with his thick, warm seed.

Dave was feeling more drained than he had ever felt before as her orgasm seemed to go on and on and on. She was bucking and clinching, rocking and clamping down on him, milking him and pulling on him even after his orgasm was done. He was feeling weak and lightheaded as he collapsed over her. Leaning forward, he pulled her hair, wet with sweat, away from her face and kissed her gently on her still panting cheek. She was too spent to turn her head to kiss him, so she raised an arm weakly and placed her hand on his cheek.

The room slowly began to cool as they laid together still panting with exhaustion. Dave raised up on his elbows allowing her to breath as he began to regain his energy. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so drained. The last time he felt so sated with just one orgasm. He was so weak. And yet, so energized. He could still feel her heat deep inside as his cock began to soften and slowly withdraw until at last, he slipped out of her.

Taking a deep breath, he finally lifted himself back up on his knees. He stroked her cheek lightly and then traced his hand down her back, gently bringing her back to life. Looking down on her, he realized once again, just how beautiful she was. And smiled knowing he had experienced a part of her no one else had. With gentle hands, he reached for her hips once again, to pull her back slightly so he could reach underneath her waist and lift her up on her knees. One hand around her waist and another rising up her side, around her, up between her breasts to cup her chin lightly before turning her head and kissing her lightly on her hips.

She was still weak and unsteady as he stood and helped her to her feet before turning her and scooping her up in his arms. Her arms hung limply around his neck as her head fell into his chest giving him soft, light kisses. He carried her first into the kitchen where he opened the fridge and grabbed a large bottle of water before turning down the hall and heading to the bedroom. Reaching the bed, he lowered her gently, setting her down and offering her the water as he wiped the hair from her face. She took the water and gulped hungrily, draining half the liter before having to stop long enough to gasp for breath. Dave pulled the covers back and took the water from her when she was done, finishing what was left before setting the empty bottle down on the end table.

The satin sheets were cool and welcoming as she crawled forward, sliding to the center of the bed. Turning off the light and sliding in next to her, Dave snuggled up tight behind her, sliding his arm under neck, his chest resting lightly against her back and his hips pressed up against her now cool, soft ass. Stroking her cheek once again, he leaned into her hear and whispered, “You are so very beautiful Samantha…”

She moaned her approval softly as her breathing slowed causing Dave to smile once more. It was a lovely date indeed as they drifted off to sleep…
 
Mmmmmmm.

Samantha blinked sleepily at the bedside table. Waking had been a languorous process. Contentment, pleasure, confusion all rolled into one slow return to consciousness. Yawning delicately, she nestled into the curve of Dave’s body. He was deliciously warm, with his arm across her ribs, his hand curled loosely at her breast.

Sex. With Dave.

She wiggled back, pressing her posterior firmly against his groin. Dave’s cock jumped at the contact, transmitting a lustful wakeup call to her own body. When he murmured sleepily, his lips hot on her neck, her nipples perked to immediate attention. An anticipatory warmth quickly flooded her belly and thighs, spreading to the juncture between her legs.

Not just any sex. Mind-blowing, phenomenal sex.

A luxurious sense of sexual satisfaction and arousal rolled together in a pleasant little hormonal cocktail. The concoction sent out tendrils of contentment, unfurling pleasure to every square centimeter of her body. Samantha couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so good, so relaxed.

So safe. So happy.

The temptation to continue rocking her posterior against Dave’s rigid masculinity was acute. Just the weight of his arm on her body made her wet. Imagining the more purposeful actions of his wakened hands was enough to coax a wanton mewl of anticipation passed her lips.

Wait.

Did she really want her companion to wake? The practical, and unwelcome, thought turned her needy mewl into a frustrated groan. No. Not just yet. Waking Dave would likely lead to more sex, and she needed time to get her bearings, process what had happened between them last night.

Sex. With Dave.

Samantha drew in a wobbly breath. Dave, her maddening, arrogant, frustrating, and so very confusing neighbor. And…it had been amazing. More than amazing, it had been spectacular. Easily the best sex of her life. Easily. She orgasmed. Twice. Not mention being so excited, so needy, so wet, and so…very, very desperate to have him fuck her. The memory of just how desperate brought on an embarrassed flush. Samantha cringed, squeezing her eyes shut. Had she actually begged? She had. Repeatedly.

Ouch.

What must he think of her? More importantly, why did the thought of begging Dave make her thighs press together with urgency? Fascinating questions, both, but not ones she was equipped to deal with at the moment. An insistent nagging at her bladder suggested her need for the bathroom was becoming urgent. Dave’s arm, hot and heavy, held her pinned to the bed. She wiggled again, this time a fraction of an inch away from his sleeping form.

The movement, minimal as it was, caused him to stir. With a mumble of words, Dave rolled, flipping over and presented her with his backside. Samantha caught her breath. The sudden removal of his physical presence made her feel unexpectedly bereft. The urge to reclaim that sense of security hit like a physical thing. Before intent could became fully realized she found herself snuggled up to his back, breathing in his scent. A warm, spicy fragrance, vaguely reminiscent of the outdoors and wholly masculine.

He. Smelled. So. Good.

She wanted to touch him, feel him, be part of him. Tentatively, she traced a finger along the line of his shoulder blade. Dave’s skin pulsed warm, almost as though it recognized and responded to her touch. The urge to feel more, explore his body further, was too tempting. Resting her hand lightly at his shoulder, she let it glide over the curve of his bicep, down the muscles of his back, to rest at the top of his hip bone. Each new point of contact made her bite her lip lustfully. She felt so naughty, exploring his body while he slept. The thrill of indulging an illicit pleasure.

Her attentions, delicate as they were, made her bed mate mumble and shift position. Hastily, Samantha drew her hand back. What had she been thinking last night? Sex with Dave could only lead to complications. But…he was just so tempting. Once his restlessness stilled, she daringly slid her hand under the sheets, letting her fingers trail along the curve of his ass. There was no denying Dave was hot. Combustible hot. Not to mention off the charts sexy. Her throat went dry as she recalled the feel of his fingers curling around her hips, pressing firmly into her flesh. The way he’d taken control, directed both their pleasure. The long, deliberate strokes that teased her needy, impatient pussy.

His voice. The tone and timber when he said, “Good girl.”

That little recall puckered her nipples instantly, they throbbed, entering into a syncing rhythm with the dull ache in her pussy and the throbbing of her clit. An embarrassing wetness slicked along the tops of her thighs.

Damn.

Reluctantly, Samantha scooted back a couple of inches, putting a little distance between them. Part of her, the physical needy part, wanted to wake Dave and ask - beg actually - for him to fuck her again. A second, more practical part disagreed. She had her ring, there was no need to pursue further interaction. Interaction that could be disastrous. She needed to get her life together, not complicate it. Dave would definitely be a complication. Besides, she couldn’t trust herself around him. Her body took over beyond all reason; she couldn’t think properly around him. There were things she needed to do, to take care of.

Mark. Dinner.

Samantha rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her dinner date was tonight. How could she have forgotten? The mere thought was enough to make her stomach tighten nervously. Anxiety took greedy hold of her throat, and the last lingering vestiges of contentment drained out of her body. Desperately, she tried to quiet her racing pulse by setting a positive spin. At least she could return Mark’s money. The thought made her heart lift, for one all-to-fleeting moment. She knew that satisfaction would be short-lived. Mark would be pathetic, sad that she hadn’t needed his help after all. Ultimately, she would feel guilty. Combined with her own sense of obligation, a lethal combination. Her hands fisted in the sheets.

Could she get out of dinner? Maybe, but that would only lead to recriminations or a reschedule. Neither held much appeal, and she had to return Mark’s money. Samantha took in a deep, cleansing breath. Little as she liked the idea it made more sense to face the music now, get things over with.

What was the worst that could happen?

Dave shifted slightly, allowing the sheet to slip lower and exposing the stark contrast of where tan lines met unexposed skin. He had a runner’s body, long, lean muscles, and a positively delectable ass. Samantha suppressed a moan, doing her best not to think naughty thoughts.

Focus. What about Dave?

Well, what about him? It wasn’t as though they were dating. She was under no obligation to explain the where, when, and who she spent time with. Assuming he was even interested in the information.

The knowledge, baldly stated, if only in her mind, made her heart clench. Just a little.

What was she thinking? Dave, no matter how charming when he wanted to be was still a modelizer. The memory of her encounter with his latest girlfriend brought a curl to her lip. How could she have forgotten? She cast an apprehensive look towards his sleeping form and worried her lower lip. A modelizer. Why on earth had she considered, for one moment, that he would be interested in her date with Mark?

But she wanted him to be, that was the problem. Samantha sat up abruptly, pulling the sheet tight against her chest. Crap. How had she gotten emotionally attached to Dave? Earth-shattering sex aside, she hardly knew the man!

Damn.

There was just something about him. Maddening and infuriating as he could be, it just felt right when she was with him. True, he kept her off balance, both sexually and otherwise. The simple fact that she never quite knew what to expect was enough to put her on edge. But…he also made her feel secure, sexy, and safe. The latter in itself was an odd feeling. She never felt safe, the world was just such a worrying, busy place.

Be sensible.

Samantha set her chin. The last thing she needed was to continue, well, whatever she was doing with Dave. He was too complicated, too confusing, not to mention impossibly demanding and dominating. Much as she’d hated being in control with her ex, the idea of having no control was slightly terrifying.

Besides, there were other, more pressing things to think about. Like being jobless. And soon, homeless. Two little items that made her whole body tightened up. Yikes. Where were her clothes? The living room, if she recalled correctly.

Easing out of the bed one infinitesimal inch at a time she managed to gain her feet without waking Dave. She stood there watching him for a long moment. He looked so…peaceful. She really wanted to crawl back into bed and snuggle up next to him. To feel his body heat, and let her fingertips glide along the length of his cock until he woke and took her again. Like he had last night, confident, in charge, certain of what he wanted from her, and from himself.

Samantha shivered a little, her nude body reacting to the fantasy of Dave. One hand crept guiltily towards her breast, toying first with one nipple, before sliding over to the next delicate bud. If she woke him would he want her again? Did she want him to want her?

She shivered again, this time from cold. Dave kept his apartment chill, and she was standing about, completely nude, playing with her body.

Watching her neighbor sleep.

Okay. Possibly just a little creepy. Samantha sighed. No matter what did, or did not, happen with Dave next she still had to deal with Mark. The glitter of diamonds on her hand brought a smile to her lips. Knowing she had her ring back gave her confidence, possibly even the courage to deal with ex boyfriends.

Giving Dave, sprawled so temptingly on the bed, one regretful glance Samantha headed towards the living room in search of her phone, clothes, and the bathroom.
 
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