On the Edge (The Grange Complex Book 1) novel Chapter 8

Dexter

Mixer parties. I loved them and it had been a while since Harry had organised one. It wasn’t one of those parties where people had sex with other people and by the end of the night everyone joined together in one big orgy. I wasn’t into shit like that, and I didn’t like myself in social situations. The aim of the mixer party was to bring together men and women who were single, but were only looking for no-strings-attached sex.

It was the best place to pick up the right women. I was done with Internet dating sites. I met women online that lied about everything: their age, height, their relationship status, the colour of their hair and their whole life in general. Sometimes I managed to find a few that only wanted sex, but most of them expected more from me. Always fucking more.

Harry was a banking investor. He bought a penthouse from me on the other wing last year. We got on pretty well and when I told him about the mixer party that I went to couple of years ago, he seemed intrigued. I didn’t have many friends at the time, but Harry became one of them. He was single, affluent, and he didn’t have to worry about his reputation amongst the other residents, so he decided to organise a similar thing.

A month later I received an invitation for a “Private Party” as he called it. He brought together over thirty single men and women and provided the food and entertainment, but that was just the beginning. The rules were simple. No couples were allowed and only certain select people were chosen. I had to make sure that no other resident in the building knew about what I was involved in.

Harry used his contacts to attract men and women from the local area who enjoyed uninhibited sex. Laura and Penny had come from the “Private Party.” They knew exactly what I was looking for. Women filled my evenings and I had a gift for attracting them naturally.

Sasha’s note on her balcony door made me furious. For a moment I was ready to smash her windows, but I thought better of it. I went back inside, thinking about ways of getting back at her. It was clear that she wasn’t planning to sleep with me, so I had to change my game. She was ready to go to war with me over her stupid apartment.

I didn’t think that she was a prude and I knew for a fact that she didn’t have a boyfriend. The solution was simple: the mixer party. I asked Harry to send her an invitation. We both avoided attracting the attention of the residents, although at this point I was willing to risk anything to have Sasha in my bed.

Harry agreed and the invitation was left outside her door on Thursday evening. When I left for a meeting on Friday morning, the envelope was gone, so I knew that she must have read it. I smiled to myself and left to make another costly investment with one of my clients.

I drank half a bottle of whiskey last night, but the alcohol wasn’t making much difference in my sleeping pattern. I still woke up at four this morning. My thoughts were racing and I was certain that Sasha had something to do with it. I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about her.

I felt like I was walking in a thick, never-ending mist. The heaviness on my chest hadn’t gone away. Each fucking day was a struggle. Thoughts about Pap kept invading my mind.

Maybe Mum was right; maybe it was time to see the doctor. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I was fit, ate well, but I felt empty. I was never tired. For some reason I always wanted to do stuff—and have sex. Yeah, the sex was never boring.

On Saturday at six a.m. I went to the gym and worked out for an hour. On the way to my apartment I caught the lift. The doors were just about to close. When I slid inside I couldn’t fucking believe it. Barbie was there, scrolling through her phone. She hadn’t noticed me yet.

She must have just finished her shift, because she was still in her sexy nurse’s uniform. Her blond hair was tied up in a messy knot. Fuck me, she was so cute I was already imagining her playing naughty nurse with me.

“You know, I did enjoy your little note,” I said, startling her. She lifted her eyes at me and inhaled sharply.

“What, are you stalking me now?” she asked.

“I’m in the fucking lift, Barbie. Don’t be stupid.”

“Ha, funny. I told you, stop messing with me. You don’t want me as your enemy,” she snapped and went back to looking at her phone, ignoring me. She was more stubborn than me and for some reason I liked that about her. When the lift stopped on our floor, I wasn’t done with her yet. I had to know if she was going to show up at the mixer party tonight.

When she stepped forward I blocked the door.

“I jerked off last night thinking about your wet pussy,” I said. Okay, sometimes I talked like a fucking horny teenager, but right now was all about pressing her angry hot buttons. This party would give me a chance to show her what she was missing out on.

“Get out of my way, fuckface. I’m tired,” she said, looking more pissed than usual.

“Private Party, you got an invite, right? You have been selected, Barbie,” I threw it out there watching to see how she would react.

“I don’t do swing parties, asshole. I can meet people in a civilised way. Now get out of my way.”

“You’re afraid of what might happen when you get cornered by me at the party,” I teased her, knowing that she liked being challenged. She bit her lip and my cock twitched. Fuck, I was getting hard again imagining what those lips wrapped around my throbbing dick would feel like.

“You will see exactly what happens tonight when I have other men around me. Apparently I can pick up men up there for sex. Well, you can watch me around others, knowing that you will never have me,” she said, then pushed me aside and strutted out of the lift.