Just Neighbors

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Just Neighbors Page 6

by Charity Ferrell


  “You promised me three dates, sweet Chloe,” he whispers, tipping his head down and burying his face in the curve of my neck.

  Goose bumps travel down my spine, and my traitorous body aches for him to touch me, to kiss me, to do all the things he’s made comments about doing.

  I gulp, fighting to stand my ground. “Three meals,” I correct.

  He groans into my neck before dropping kisses along my sensitive skin. “Fine, three meals, but you’re bailing early on this one. So, you owe me another half.” He sucks on my skin next, as if he wants to mark me.

  I release a heavy breath and throw my head back, stupidly giving him better access.

  Jesus, why am I allowing myself to get caught up in him like this? Why am I so weak?

  I clear my throat. “Why are you so adamant on hanging out with me, Kyle?”

  “Why are you so adamant on not being around me, Chloe?” he whispers into my ear before nibbling my earlobe.

  “You know why,” I hiss, balancing myself against the counter. My knees are weak, and if I fall, it’ll put me in line with Kyle’s waist—with his crotch.

  “Why?” he asks. “Is it because you hate me or because you can’t control yourself when I’m around?” He skims his hands up my sides, causing me to let out a light whimper. “You’re so used to being in control—in charge of your emotions, your life, every single thing. You’ve never handed control over to anyone else, have you?”

  Desire rushes through me, and I blow out a nervous breath when he withdraws to lock eyes with me.

  “Yes,” I stutter out. “Once. I gave it to you.”

  He flinches but recovers. His fingers curl around my waist, and I gasp when his erection presses hard against my core.

  “Do you remember how good it felt, losing control?” he asks.

  I inspect the floor, but he grabs my chin again, forcing me to meet his eyes—the same as earlier.

  “Be honest. I won’t judge you. I’ll never judge you.”

  His deep-set eyes impale mine. This is too personal, and I’ve never been this charged up before, not even with Kent—the man I planned to marry.

  I finally gain the courage to say, “I’m not going there.”

  Before I can say or do anything, his lips capture mine.

  And, just like that, I’m gone for him.

  I exhale a sharp breath, and he wastes no time before sliding his tongue into my mouth. He tastes of beer and is skilled as we make out against the counter, his excitement rubbing against mine ever so slightly. I drop my head back when his lips return to my neck, sucking and licking.

  “I wish I could take my time in pleasuring you,” he whispers into my ear. “Unfortunately, we don’t have that. You’re about to receive the fastest orgasm you’ve ever had.”

  I open my mouth to object but moan instead. I could use an orgasm right now. It’s been a while since I’ve had one not given via the vibrator Kent resented. There’s no objecting to Kyle having his way with me, so I allow him to take control.

  Seconds later, his fingers dip underneath the hem of my yoga pants, and he stretches them out far enough to dive straight into my panties.

  “So wet for someone you hate,” he says, running a finger through my drenched slit. “You might think you hate me, sweet Chloe, but your pussy seems to like me. Maybe next time, I’ll bring my dick out to play.”

  I open my mouth to question the next time comment but whimper when he tugs my pants down.

  “Spread your legs wider and let me get one leg out,” he demands.

  I do as I was told. Denying him isn’t an option, but I’ll regret this in the morning.

  “How much easier would this have been if you’d worn the skirt like I said?”

  “Quit bitching,” I mutter. “We’re running out of time.”

  And I desperately need an orgasm right now.

  “Oh, how the tables have turned, my dear neighbor.” He plunges a finger inside me before adding another seconds later, sliding them in and out of me. His fingers are thick and skilled, hitting me in all the right places.

  I should unbuckle his pants and return the favor, but I’m too caught up in the moment. I rest my hands on his shoulders as he finger-fucks me hard.

  “Does that feel good?” he whispers against my lips as he uses his thumb to circle my clit.

  I nod.

  “Wait until you find out how good my cock feels.”

  I stop myself from telling him it won’t be happening, but hell, at the rate we’re going, his cock will probably end up in every hole of my body.

  “I need to taste you. Fuck.”

  I moan.

  “Fuck it.”

  My breathing hitches at the loss of his fingers, and he drops to his knees. He braces one hand against my thigh, and I shiver when he plants a kiss at my opening. There isn’t a long wait until his tongue dips in and out of me, and I throw my head back. It’s fast. We’re both sweating, and I grip the edge of the counter when his fingers work me again. His tongue moves from my slit to my clit, from my clit to my slit, repeating the teasing action.

  It doesn’t take long to set me off, and I’m shaking with an orgasm. He grips the outside of my thighs and holds me up.

  “Holy shit,” I say, catching my breath.

  I glance down to find him staring at me with a wide grin and a face filled with need. He kisses both of my thighs before standing up, his hands moving to my waist.

  “Holy shit,” I repeat. “I cannot believe we did that.”

  He kisses my forehead and I’m thankful when he pulls my pants up because, right now, my body is useless.

  “It’s hard not to believe it when your body is trembling, and if I wasn’t holding you up, you’d most likely fall to the floor.”

  “God, I hate you,” I say with a shudder.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment since you just had an orgasm as a result of my tongue-fucking you.” He nuzzles his head in my neck while I pull myself together. “Thank you for letting me play with your pussy tonight and for bringing dessert.” He kisses my cheek. “Time for you to babysit.”

  I turn away in embarrassment when he draws back. “Thanks for, uh … dinner.” I clear my throat. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  “See you then.”

  He doesn’t kiss me again or make another move while I straighten myself out, grab my bag, and head to the door with so many thoughts spiraling through me.

  “Oh, wait,” he finally says as I’m about to walk out.

  I turn around, and he hands me a plate full of brownies.

  “Dessert. The kids will enjoy these.”

  My phone beeps.

  Claudia: About to pull up.

  Fuck!

  “They will. Thank you.” I rush out of the house and make it to my porch at the same time she arrives.

  What in the flying fuck happened?

  Claudia is two hours late to pick up the kids.

  No surprise there.

  She dropped them off without dinner in their bellies, so I took them to the diner. When we returned to my house, they devoured a brownie each, and then I went into full parent mode. With Gloria being four, she needs more attention than Trey. I gave her a bath and then read her a story before she crashed out in the bedroom. Trey has graduated to the guest room with a bigger bed and a smart TV.

  “Is your homework finished?” I ask when I walk into the living room.

  A glass of milk is in his hand, and a brownie sits on the table next to him.

  He groans. “Yes, boss woman. I’m not dumb enough to bail on homework with you. Mom, yes. You, nope.”

  “Smart boy.” I sit down on the couch across from him and cross my legs, a mug of tea in my hand.

  Trey is fourteen and at the age where he’ll pick up on the environment he’s living in. He’ll do one of two things—want a better life for himself or fall into the black hole. My sister had him young, so he grew up faster than most kids. Him being born also made me grow
up faster. I fled that life as soon as I could, and I want him to be able to do the same.

  “How’s everything going at home?” I ask.

  “Mom has a new boyfriend,” he states with a straight face.

  “I’m sure he’s a real winner,” I mutter before I can stop myself. Even though it’s difficult, I try not to talk shit about Claudia in front of him.

  He snorts. “Oh, yes, like all her others.” He frowns. “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do for us to live here?”

  As much as Claudia loves to pawn her children off on me, she refuses to grant me custody. She uses them as a power trip and exploits my love and concern for them to her advantage. If it wasn’t for the children, I’d have nothing to do with her.

  “Trust me, buddy, I’ve tried,” I answer with disappointment. It hurts my heart as much as it hurts theirs.

  “I know,” he says with a hint of a frown.

  He picks a channel, a show of viral videos of people’s failed stunts, and I grab my laptop to get some work done.

  An hour later, Claudia pulls up. I make sure she’s not high or drunk before letting the kids know she’s here.

  “You’re late,” I say when I step outside.

  She brushes away her bleach-blonde hair from her face and takes another puff of her cigarette. “Shit happens, Chloe. Damn. This is your niece and nephew. Don’t you love spending time with them?”

  I fan the air in front of me to get rid of her cigarette smoke and draw back. “Don’t patronize me. I spend more time with them than you do. Tonight, Gloria asked me why you never want to be around her like other mommies and their kids at her school. Get your shit together.”

  “Or what? You’ll ask for custody like always?”

  “I don’t understand why you won’t.” I lower my voice. “You obviously have no interest in being a mother.”

  She sneers. “You’re jealous.” She tosses her cigarette on the ground and stomps on it with her heel. “You’re childless, and your fiancé left you for another woman. Maybe you need to pay attention to your pathetic life before insulting mine.”

  “Fuck you, Claudia,” is all I say before turning around.

  I don’t want my niece and nephew for my lack of children. I want to protect them from the life she’s giving them.

  I’ve adapted to her and my mother’s insults, and mostly, I have become immune to them, but there are still times—times like this—that remind me of my misfortunes. She uses it to trigger me even though I’ve done nothing but help her.

  People can be assholes. People can throw your misfortune in your face, even when it’s unnecessary, even when you’ve done nothing to them. Some people aren’t nice, and if there’s anything I’ve learned from my chaotic childhood, it’s that hurt people hurt other people. Misery loves company, and my family is always ready to hurl insults.

  “I’m sorry. That was harsh,” she calls out.

  “It’s nothing worse than what you’ve said before,” I mutter while shaking my head.

  I grab Gloria when she and Trey step outside and help her into her carseat while Claudia lights another cigarette and stands to the side. When she’s finished, I stand on my porch and wave good-bye as they pull away. I take a deep breath and am about to go in when I hear it.

  “Good night, Chloe!”

  The words shoot through the night from Kyle’s front porch. I glance over to find him standing beneath his bright porch light, shirtless, with a bottle of water in his hand. I shake my head, fight my smile, and flip him off before walking into my house.

  At least he made me smile after the Claudia Horror Show.

  Six

  Kyle

  I’m waiting for Chloe as soon as she steps out onto her porch. From now on, I will deliver my good mornings face-to-face.

  “Good morning, my dearest neighbor,” I greet, not startling her this time. “I enjoyed our dinner. Next time, maybe you can bring your vibrator as the guest of honor.”

  I can’t stop thinking about last night.

  Like yesterday, I’m dressed in my uniform. I promised Gage I’d come in early and help with extra paperwork, but I didn’t want to miss seeing her.

  “Fuck off,” she replies, fighting a smile.

  Another one of those black skirts I love hugs her hourglass curves and stops at her knees, and though it’s not revealing, it’s sexy. Her white button-down blouse is thin, and evidence of her hard nipples shows through.

  “I was down for it last night and will be later this evening. Care to make a date for it?”

  She hands me her coffee tumbler and tugs her jacket over her shoulders. “Last night was a mistake, and I’d appreciate us acting like it never happened.”

  “A mistake I’d love to make again.” I inch closer. “I’ll relive it repeatedly. My brain will never forget the sound and sight of you coming for me.”

  Flustered, she snatches her coffee back. “I’m being serious.”

  “Let me remind you that, every time I’ve touched you, you’ve enjoyed it. Keep attempting to persuade yourself otherwise, but we both know you love my hands on you.”

  She blushes. “You’re right. I enjoy you touching me. The problem is, I’ve never enjoyed the consequences.”

  We’re side by side as we step off her porch and walk to her car.

  “I see you still hate me for that.”

  “I will always hate you for that.”

  “Hate is an expensive grievance to carry in life. It shortens your life span, triggers depression, interrupts sleep—”

  “I’ve hated you for years, so what harm is a little more?” she interrupts.

  “Do you know what does lengthen your life span? Orgasms—”

  She interrupts me again. “This is the part of the morning where I instruct you to fuck off.”

  “You already said it.”

  “Then, fuck off again.”

  “Wow, Chloe, way to make a man feel used,” I say when we reach her car.

  Instead of getting in, she rests against it, grips her coffee, and stares at me, not interested in ending our conversation.

  “I seriously hate you more than the Grinch hates Christmas.”

  “You need to work on your insult game. That was the worst I’ve ever heard.” I smile. “All joking aside, have dinner with me again tonight.”

  She smiles back, surprising me. “Fine, I’ll do dinner with you tonight at my house, but keep your hands to yourself. Got it? This is because I don’t make deals with people and not keep them.”

  I hold my hands up. “These bad boys will stay to themselves—unless you beg me for them. Deal?”

  “Yeah,” she draws out, “not happening.”

  I open the car door for her and help her in like the upstanding gentleman I most certainly am not, and she slides in.

  I wiggle my fingers. “We’ll see. Next time, you might ask for another body part of mine.”

  She swats at my hand holding the car door open. “You’re seriously a child.”

  “You know that’s not true.” I wink and turn around at the sound of Gage pulling into my driveway. “I need to get to work now and make the world a better place. You can reward me for it later.”

  Fucking with Chloe Fieldgain is fun.

  I wonder what fucking her will be like.

  Gage exchanges a glance with me when I’m inside the car. “I see your neighbor has yet to murder you. First, you’re having breakfast with her, and now, you’re walking her to her car in the morning. What’s up with that?”

  “Good morning to you, too,” I answer, grabbing the coffee he brought for me from the cupholder. “Jealous I didn’t have breakfast with you or walk you to your car?”

  “Hardly. I’ll let you keep those favors for girls you tormented in high school.”

  “I didn’t torment her. We had a rivalry.”

  He snorts. “Some rivalry. You wanted to bang her. She wanted to kill you.”

  I shrug. “Something along those lines, yes.”


  “She forgive you?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “You’re wasting your time. She’s despised you for over a decade. A fucking decade.”

  “How do you know she still hates me? Until recently, you were MIA from this place for years.”

  He grabs his coffee and takes a drink. “Hmm … I didn’t notice, dipshit.”

  “Don’t take it as an insult. I’m damn happy you’re back. Focus on our current conversation.”

  “I was updated on all Blue Beech–related drama,” he grumbles, not impressed.

  Like me, Gage couldn’t give two shits about gossip.

  “The big-mouthed future baby mama? I told you she was trouble.”

  “Shut up before I throw you out of this car.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, so you tell me daily,” I joke. “Chloe has no reason to hate me now. We’re mature adults.”

  He gawks at me. “Holy shit, you’re banging her, aren’t you?”

  “If only,” I mutter.

  He narrows his eyes and studies me. “Correction: you haven’t screwed her, but something happened between you two, considering she didn’t have a gun to your balls seconds ago.” He lowers his voice. “I hate to bring this up, but do you think … dating her will cause tension with your father?”

  “I don’t give a fuck what he thinks.”

  The mood turns somber. “You and your dad still not speaking?”

  “When necessary … for my mom.” Not that I have an issue with that. The less I talk to my dad, the better my day goes.

  “Maybe your relationship will get better over time—you know, like your and Chloe’s.”

  “My relationship with him gets worse with time, and unlike Chloe, I don’t want to be around him.”

  “I understand, man. So, you’re into her, huh? I knew you crushed on her in high school, even after she told you to get fucked, but I thought you had grown out of it. You’re like a kid on the playground again. How many valentines are you putting in her basket this year?”

  “Piss off.”

  “My best friend is infatuated with a chick who hates him.”

  I smile before answering the phone. “Hello, world’s best mother.”

 

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