Love Thy Neighbor(2)By: Belle Aurora
The man is a royal pain in my ass. He chooses the perfect moment of every occasion to whisper something in my ear that’s always enough to make me lose my shit.
It doesn’t take a lot to make me lose my shit.
Ghost, whose real name is Asher, and I had a ‘moment’ last year. If a ‘moment’ includes being dragged down the hall of a club, having your panties ripped off, then being fucked on a conference table while you beg and scream for more, then, yes, we shared a moment. It was a one-time thing, though. We’ve never spoken about it, but it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life. And I’m no stranger to sex. I love sex, and I’m not afraid to have it as long as protection is used.
I wouldn’t say I’m a slut. I’m just in touch with my inner slut. And, let me tell you, she rocks.
You’re such a dumbass.
I hate myself for looking out for Ghost. Even if it is on the sly.
The man is insufferable. A total dickhead. No manners what-so-ever. None.
So why can’t you stop thinking about his winkie?
God. I suck.
An arm comes around my shoulder and squeezes. I look around to see my father and mother flanking me.
“Such nice wedding, no? I so happy for Valentina.” My dad’s English is not good.
He’s lived in America for thirty years and still has a heavy accent. He isn’t the only one. Tina’s father, Marko, is very much the same. Working with Croats and having the majority of your friends being Croats, they forgot to be American. Even a little.
My mom nudges my dad and says, “Boris, don’t talk wedding things in front of Natalia. You know how she is.” Mom’s English is pretty darn good. She’s a little dramatic. Not that I blame her. Raising three hot-headed girls will do that to you. My dad has been trying to marry me off to a nice Croatian boy since I was eighteen, and whenever he works marriage into a conversation, I normally just walk away with him still flapping his lips.
Dad glares at mom. “Ana…”
Mom cuts him off with a firm, “Boris.” Dad pouts and looks away.
Mom 1 – Dad 0.
“I can see Nina over by the bar. I think I’ll join her for a drink.” I remove myself from my father’s clutches and walk away.
I walk two steps and hear my dad yell out, “Pamet u glavu! Nemoj mi sramotit!” I smirk. I’ve been hearing this since I was a child. It basically means Use your brain and Don’t embarrass me. Every Croatian child hears this growing up, and most likely, still does. I’m almost twenty-nine and am still hearing it!
My sisters are at the bar chatting, and very obviously flirting with the handsome blonde barman.
He is actually handsome.
Not hot exactly. He looks classy.
I’ve seen him several times, but don’t know his name. We all meet up at The White Rabbit every Saturday night to drink and unwind. Nik made us girls permanent VIPs. We have our own booth and everything!
I smirk internally and decide to be a real bitch. I’m going to spoil their fun.
I put on my best sultry smile, walk in-between my sisters and lean over the bar towards the barman.
“Hi.” I tilt my head and search his face as if I’m really just seeing him for the first time. “I’m sure you’re new. I would’ve remembered you if I’d seen you here before.” I lightly chew on the nail of my pinky finger, accentuating my naturally pouty lips.
The barman stares at my lips, swallows and replies a choked, “Hi.” He clears his throat and tries again. “Hi. Actually, I know you, Nat. I see you every Saturday night with the Safira party.”
I put on my best humiliated face and lean even closer, so he can see my cleavage. “I’m sorry. Maybe I can make it up to you…”
“Stefan. But everyone calls me Sheriff.” He takes my hand and kisses it.
I take his hand, kiss the tip of his middle finger very lightly and run it along my bottom lip. Stefan’s mouth parts slightly and his body tightens. He looks to be in pain. I whisper, “Let me make it up to you sometime…Sheriff.” Then I wink and walk away, leaving my sisters fuming.
Ha-ha…Take that, ya whores!
My sisters and I have a love-hate relationship. We love to hate each other. We all look alike, have the same attitude and are extremely short-fused. But we love each other to death, and if someone hurt one of my sisters, they’d have to answer to me. Or my fist. Repeatedly.