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“I know. We’ll get it figured out. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”
“Thanks, Jack,” I muttered as he said goodbye.
I tossed the phone to the counter and paced around the room for a moment. I paused at the window and stared out at the road four stories down as I dwelled over my last manager, Buck. He had been my best friend, and he screwed me over. It had done a number on me mentally, that was for sure.
Hopefully, this new managing firm will work out. I had decided to forego a direct manager and instead hire a managing firm so that this kind of thing couldn’t happen again. Yes, I paid them a lot more, but I planned on making a lot of money, so sharing didn’t bother me.
Besides, I wasn’t out to get rich for myself. I had other plans for the money.
Tomorrow, I would meet with the team working with me and hopefully learn their game plan. I needed to keep my head down and move forward until I did.
I collected my phone and keys again and let myself back out. I was having dinner with a friend, and hopefully, that would help me calm down and focus again.
Several hours later, I was back in my apartment and relaxed. Sandy had a way of doing that to me. The two of us had been best friends since college and had gone through a ton of shit together. We had started by dating, and after having sex once, we realized that we had made better friends than lovers. Not to say that we didn’t have sex again. We did on and off for a few years for the sexual release, but not for the emotional attachment.
Then I met Belinda, and my friendship with Sandy became strained. Belinda didn’t like her because she was an attractive woman and because Sandy knew what I looked like naked. Belinda was a jealous woman, and my friendship with Sandy suffered greatly.
I told Sandy tonight that I should have listened to her from the beginning, but I hadn’t. After telling me that I should have, we put all thoughts of Belinda and my divorce out of our minds and had a great night.
Now, I turned on all the lights in the room and cranked up my music. Then I pulled out my paints and the latest project that I was working on.
I hadn’t been working long when I heard banging coming from the door in the other room, and I went to find out who it was. Imagine my surprise when I opened it to find the sexy woman from earlier ready to pounce on me—only not the way I would have preferred.
It was ironic to find that she lived directly above me, and I berated myself for not soundproofing my ceiling better. I did have soundproofing around my room, but I had assumed that the ceiling had good enough insulation between floors. It looks like I was completely wrong about that.
I’m not sure what got into me or why I sucked her finger, but it was like some instinct inside of me just took over. I would do it all over to see the expression on her face again. The bewilderment, the excitement, the pure lust that flashed from her light green eyes had been incredible.
So incredible that I wanted to snake my arm around her and coax her into my apartment. I really did have a few other things I’d like to suck on, but sadly, she disappeared almost as quickly as she appeared.
I watched her stomp down the hallway: her feet shoved into hiking boots, her nicely shaped legs in tight-fitting yoga pants, and an oversized bulky sweatshirt covered the rest of her. She disappeared around the corner, and I closed my door, smiling at myself.
The image of her surprise stayed in my mind for a few minutes as I went back to my room and turned the music off. A few moments later, I heard a small thump above me. Had she dropped one of her boots? Or was she stomping on my head?
I smiled at the ceiling and picked up my paintbrush. Tomorrow I would add soundproofing to the ceiling. While I could work in silence, I preferred to work with music playing. It helped relax me and allowed my creativity to flow better.
Tonight, my creativity was flowing, but not for the painting I had been working on. Fifteen minutes after pouty mouth left, I pulled out a new canvas and started on a fresh piece. This one had the eyes of my sexy neighbor and the pout of an angel. I could just imagine what she was saying, and it gave me the name of the piece: Do Dirty Things To Me.
Iwas up and out the door with a steaming travel cup of coffee at ten-thirty to make my eleven o’clock meeting with the management company. I had stayed up until almost four working on the new piece.
Not that anyone would see it. I had no plans to share it at any of my shows. That piece had been more for me, a way to get her off my mind, or perhaps to forever capture that look of enticement and sexual lust that I had seen on her face.
When I climbed in bed, I couldn’t help but stroke myself as I imagined sucking her finger again, and perhaps her sucking my cock with those pouty lips. What I wouldn’t give to stare down at her while she sat on her knees and let me fuck her mouth.
I had come so hard that it had almost hurt. There was no doubt that I had been neglecting myself recently, and I needed to get myself back into society and the dating pool. Not that I wanted a relationship, but it would be nice to have someone to have sex with once in a while. Maybe Sandy would be up to restarting that adventure, although she did say she had met someone she was really into, so maybe not.
The receptionist at the management firm showed me to the conference room, and a cocky-looking guy about my age introduced himself as Milt Brausen stood and shook my hand, “Nice to meet you, Alex. I’ll be overseeing your account. Two others will be working with us, also.”
“Great, I’m excited to get started.”
The door opened behind me, and a tall brunette walked in. Her brown eyes widened as she saw me, and then she gave me a nervous smile.
“This is Rebecca Windwood. She’s going to be in charge of your social media, press releases, interviews, appointments, and anything else that needs to be scheduled. She will work closely with our other team member, Mya North, who will oversee your image as a whole and help brand you. She is going to take excellent care of you and make you a star.”
The door opened, and I glanced back and did a double-take. The neighbor that had been on my mind strode purposefully in and stopped in mid-step, her jaw-dropping.
“What in the hell are you doing here?”
I stood, grinning from ear to ear as I stuck my hand out. “I’m Alex Hoyt, and I assume you are Mya North, the woman who is going to take excellent care of me.”
Her gaze darted to Milt, then back to me, and her shoulders slumped in defeat as she closed her eyes and muttered just loud enough that I could hear her, “Fuck me.”
