So Long: Bad Boy Next Door

by Kelley Harvey

  “Everything okay?” His sleep roughened voice is loud in the quiet of the night.

  So much for sneaking out. “Yeah, I figured I should head next door.”

  His arm snakes around my waist as he pulls me into the bed and against his chest. “Stay. Please.”

  He throws his leg over mine and engulfs me in his embrace. “This feels good.”

  His hard cock nudges my ass cheek.

  I giggle. “Uh oh. We woke the beast.”

  “You mean the beast woke me. I was dreaming of you.”

  “Were not.” I elbow him lightly. “You were having a nightmare. That’s what woke me up.”

  “Nightmare? No. I was dreaming about tasting that sweet spot again.”

  In a flat second, he’s moved from behind me to between my legs, pushing my thighs apart. His breath washes over my pussy. His tongue takes a slow lick, from the bottom of my entrance to my clit, sending a shiver through me.

  I moan when he circles my bud and latches on to suckle it. Cream rushes to meet him and pressure builds in my lower belly. He slips two fingers inside and rubs that place that drives me mad. My hips buck as he sucks harder.

  He lavishes attention on my nub and rams his fingers deep inside, hitting all the right places with a sweet rhythm. My back arches.

  I run my fingers through his hair. “I want to taste you too.”

  He grunts and gives my pussy another lick before pulling away. “I’ll lie down, and you get on top.”

  I move and he drops to the bed. I climb over him, straddling his head and laying my torso over his. I grab his cock and slip my mouth down onto it, holding its base with one hand, his balls in the other.

  Something about the way he moves and groans when I touch him empowers me. It’s like I can control this part of him.

  I’ll make him come. He has too. He’s so hard, it must hurt.

  Adam grabs my hips and pulls me down onto his face, his mouth finding my cunt, slathering it with his tongue while he tickles my asshole with the tips of his fingers. My body relaxes over him as he sinks his thumb into my entrance. This time, he touches places he couldn’t reach before.

  In only minutes, little tingles spin through me, coiling the spring tighter and tighter until my hips jerk and I’m humping his face, my movements no longer in my control. He pumps his thumb in and out of my slit, his tongue batting my clit until I don’t know which way is up and which way is south.

  The ridges of his cock are more pronounced where he was injured, but that hasn’t impaired how hard he is.

  I try to focus on sucking his dick, on pleasuring him as much as he’s doing for me. But I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

  I’m a mass of raw sexual nerves, each a string on the instrument that is my body. And he’s playing a symphony.

  He pulls away and blows across my swollen and throbbing pussy. “Let go, babe. Let it happen.”

  His hard-on still in my mouth, I nod.

  He smooths his hand up my spine. “Stop worrying about me. I want you to cream all over my tongue.”

  I lick the side of his erection one last time and lay my head over the jagged scar that runs across his groin, closing my eyes, thinking only of Adam and what he’s doing to me.

  He goes back to driving me wild with that magical tongue. Lick. Suck. Thrust. Pull. Nip. Suck. Tug. Thrust. Nip. Tickle. Over and over.

  Again and Again.

  I allow the ripples of sensation to flow through me. They invade my every muscle, my every bone, my every cell.

  Then, like a tsunami, it hits. It gently pulls everything away from the shore before slamming me with everything at once. My muscles clench tight around his thumb and my clit throbs as he sucks it hard, then lets off just enough to allow me to ride out the tide until the pulsing in my pussy subsides and my muscles let loose of him.

  He kisses my clit with a small suck and a peck before he lets go. “Anytime you want someone to lick your pussy, call me. I’m your—what did your friend say—your get-laid guy.”

  The gray light of early morning seeps in through the blinds.

  Kelsey drapes her arm over my body, her leg thrown over my thigh. Her hair spreads across my shoulder and tickles my ear. I kiss the top of her head as I smooth the hair caught on my beard aside.

  She doesn’t even so much as twitch. She must be exhausted.

  My cock hardens again at the thought of the way she wrapped those long legs around my neck and her fingers ran through my hair as I sucked and slurped up every drop of her nectar.

  The sweetest I’ve had.

  I let my knuckles glide over the smooth skin of her upper arm. Everywhere I touch is soft, doubly so at her inner thighs and the lips of her pussy.

  A woman like this could bring out the caveman in me. I couldn’t let her leave earlier. I wanted to drag her back to my bed and keep her here. I could kiss her mouth all day and lick her pussy all night.

  I haven’t held a woman all night since before I left for a desert on the other side of the world. Have I been foolish to worry about my scars and imperfections? Maybe they aren’t that important.

  Or maybe it’s just Kelsey.

  Perhaps.

  Because the girl who last said she loved me sure as fuck didn’t think she wanted to deal with what was left of me. She wasn’t interested in waiting for me to heal to see if everything worked. I guess Rachel loved my cock more than she loved me.

  But that’s fine. I’m home. I’m healed. And even though I have this problem, no one can exactly say I’m not a man. Because I am. One hundred percent.

  Kelsey’s dark lashes rest on her cheeks, and her breathing is slow and steady. She wasn’t issuing any complaints as she came apart under my mouth last night. And she did it so beautifully.

  Condoms.

  As soon as we’re up and moving, I’m heading to the drugstore. Because later I’m gonna wear out that pussy.

  I ease out from under Kelsey and head to the shower.

  I’m taking a hot shower this morning. If I walk around with a hard cock all day, I don’t give a shit.

  Once out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and sneak to the kitchen to brew some coffee.

  Damn. No creamer. Wonder how Kelsey takes her coffee?

  I grab a t-shirt and some shorts from the dryer and slip out through the garage to make a quick trip to the local grocery. Four kinds of gourmet creamer and a large box of condoms later, I’m at the house again.

  A bouncing Spike greets me at the door. He snuffles my cargo pockets.

  As quietly as I can, I say, “Sorry, boy. I forgot to grab some new treats. You’ll have to settle for the ones you already have.”

  I head to the kitchen to give him some biscuits. My phone beeps. I fumble to grab it from my pocket before it wakes Kelsey.

  I whisper as I let Spike into the backyard. “Hello?”

  “Hardick? How’s it hanging? I haven’t talked to you in a while. Thought I’d check in on you.”

  I push through the screen door and grab it before it slams the frame behind me. “Romans, glad you called.”

  “How’s life treating you?”

  “I woke up on the right side of the dirt.”

  “I hear you on that one, bro. So you still down in Texas turning houses or whatever?”

  “Flipping. I’m flipping houses. Or I was supposed to be. I’m working on my first, and it’s a cluster of fucks in epic proportions.”

  “But you’re breathing. And ambulatory. And your dick’s intact. Your dick is still intact, right?”

  “And hard as my fucking head. How are you?”

  “I’m good. Really good. I’m working. I’m being fitted for a new prosthetic next week. Life is—well, it’s not shitty right now.”

  “Romans, you’re one positive mother-fucker. Especially for a guy who lost his leg.”

  “Hey, not all of my leg. Only from the knee down. And you know what I say, IEDs will fuck a dude up, but they don’t have to fuck up a dude’s whole lif
e.”

  I smile. “Wisdom from the back streets of a small province.”

  “Tell me about this gig you were talking about in your email. You’re gonna go on some speaking tour? You?”

  “Yeah. I was talking to the shrink at the VA. She told me that after an injury like mine, that talking to other wounded vets might be good for me, and them too. She says it will help with the nightmares and the other shit we deal with.”

  “I guess. It definitely helps me when I have a sit down with other amputees. It’s like we belong to this club and no one else really gets it unless they’ve been through it.”

  For a second or two, we go quiet.

  Then Romans coughs. “So, I need to live vicariously through my closest friend. You been getting any lately?”

  “Wow. That didn’t take long.” I sit on the steps of the small deck leading down to the yard.

  “Aw, c’mon, man. Don’t hold out on a brother. I’m not getting any action these days. I think it’s this scar under my eye.” He chuckles, like he’s a fucking comedian.

  The scar under his eye was the least of his injuries. Barely an inch long, it was almost invisible a few months after he came home.

  Romans was there when Rachel walked out of my hospital room for the last—the only time. He was the first one I confided in about my current lack of ability to bust a fucking nut. I guess he’s my best friend—now.

  Carter Shulls was, but he’s gone. I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat. The shrapnel he took to the neck snuffed out his life in a matter of seconds. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. He was cold and wearing a toe tag by the time I woke up from the drug-induced haze, after they stitched me back together.

  I pull myself to the friend who isn’t six feet under. “No. That scar only improved on your ugly-ass looks, man. Your problem is that you’ve got no game.”

  “No game? Me? Fuck you.” He chuckles. “Shit, who am I kidding? You’re right. I got no game. That’s why I have to call my man, Hardick, and find out what it’s like to actually fuck a girl instead of stickin’ it to a pocket pussy.”

  I grin and shake my head. “You called the right guy. Fucking girls is what I do.”

  “Yeah you do. So, who’re you banging now?”

  “You gotta quit asking questions like that. It isn’t gentlemanly to fuck and tell.”

  “Guess it’s a good damned thing you aren’t a gentleman then, isn’t it? C’mon, give me some deets.”

  In the past, I may have run my mouth about women who meant nothing to me, but Kelsey’s different. She feels different. Like she could mean something. Like she might mean something.

  But I can’t let her mean anything—life is too uncertain. I could be here today and zapped tomorrow. Who knows when my expiration date will come up?

  I shrug. “No one special. You know how it is. A pussy is a pussy.”

  “Uh oh. What is that I detect in your voice? Has my man, Hardick, found someone special?”

  Spike’s head jerks to attention about the time the screen slams against the door frame behind me.

  I whip around, but there’s no Kelsey.

  Fuck. “Hey, man. I’ve gotta go. I’ll try to give you a shout one day this week. Need to talk to you about a fundraiser I want you to MC.”

  “Oh. Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I stand and head toward the door. “You take care, okay?”

  “Sure. Sure. You too.”

  As I let myself into the kitchen, I swipe my finger over the screen.

  A steaming cup of coffee sits on the counter, but Kelsey’s gone.

  SEVEN

  I head out of Adam’s house, cheeks hot and no idea why I’m so upset.

  It’s not like we’ve been dating. Or even seeing each other. Of course I’m just another pussy to him.

  He doesn’t orgasm. He’s probably out there looking for the woman who will finally get him there.

  A robe-clad Mr. Alberto picks up his morning paper. As he straightens, his gaze falls on me. He stops halfway to standing and cocks his head. Even from this distance his busy brows clearly dive to the center.

  With my hair a hot mess, and me traipsing down my new male neighbor’s sidewalk, I’m sure it’s quite obvious what’s happened here: walk of shame.

  Mrs. Alberto leans out of their front door and waves. “Hi, Kelsey. What are you doing out so early in the morning?”

  Fuck it. I’m twenty-six years old.

  I lift my shoes in salute. “Just enjoying the Get Laid Parade, Mrs. Alberto. That’s all.”

  The two look at one another, both of their faces puzzled. The Mister shrugs and turns toward his house. Mrs. Alberto opens the door further and ushers him inside. Once he’s in, she leans outside.

  “Kelsey,” she calls.

  I plaster on my best I don’t give a shit what you think about me smile. “Yes, ma’am?”

  She points to Adam’s house and gives me a thumbs-up, winking before she ducks back inside.

  Well, I’ll be damned.

  I grin, feeling slightly better than I did when I walked out of his house thirty-five seconds ago.

  I step inside my front door, and Chloe careens down the hall into the living room, her back end almost passing up her front legs as she tries to stop. Her meows are insistent, as though whatever she’s saying is of utmost importance and I’d best listen-up.

  I pick her up. “Did you miss me? Or are you hungry?”

  In the kitchen, I set her down by her dry cat food. A dime-sized hole has been eaten out of the middle, where the stainless steel bottom of the dish is visible. I jiggle the container enough so that the food fills in the small space. Chloe’s wailing immediately ceases as she settles down in front of her now full dish to eat breakfast.

  I shake my head at my silly kitten, glad she’s here to greet me and bring me back to my everyday world. A world that existed before my hot neighbor moved in, and will exist long after he leaves.

  It was only meant to be fun. Something to get my muse in gear. That’s it. That’s all he offered, and that’s all I accepted.

  So what if he’s a man-whore? Maybe that’s what I needed.

  So what if he held me and entwined his body with mine as we slept? So what if I woke several times in the night to find him stroking my arm, my back, my side, my hip, even my hair, as though he couldn’t touch me enough?

  So what if Adam made me feel more cherished in one night of out-of-this-freaking-world oral sex and cuddling than my husband did over the last few years of our marriage?

  It’s not a big deal. It really doesn’t matter.

  I mean, he’s a hard-core bachelor and not going to want anything long-term with a mom.

  He’s obviously been banging a shit ton of women.

  Do I want to waste my emotions on a man-whore?

  I shut my laptop and set it aside before I throw it across the damned room.

  Nothing.

  I’ve been sitting in this seat since seven forty-three this morning, with the exception of a couple of trips to the bathroom and a twenty-minute break for lunch. Now, it’s almost four in the afternoon.

  I have so little to show for all that time.

  “Sir Rodrigo, unhand me!” I twist away, my wrist at my forehead.

  “Nay, my lady love. You have escaped me for the last time.” He grabs the bodice of my gown, ripping it asunder. “I shall have you.”

  My bared flesh burns for him. Though I know it is wrong, my loins long for his touch.

  Alas, I must not allow myself to be consumed by this wretched fire.

  He clasps my hands behind my back, his mouth falling against the rosy tips of my budded globes. “I shall plunge my manly sword into your velvet sheath.”

  My heart flutters beneath my breasts. “Your sword, sir?”

  “Aye. It is long and steely hard. It must be wetted and sated by you this night.”

  One-hundred and twenty-two words. That’s all I’ve written.

  I needed to write fo
ur thousand words.

  I used to be able to write four thousand words in that span of time. Until my life fell out from under me and one of my best friends left me for my husband.

  Or was it that my husband left me for one of my best friends?

  Either way, they both abandoned me.

  My stomach clenches, and that weird nausea that I get when I think of her rolls through me.

  I’d have wiped Marcy’s ass if she’d needed me to—we were that close. I’d have given her a kidney or a lung. I’d have done just about anything for her.

  I considered her my heart-sister, because I was closer with her than I was with my blood-relations. She and Leigh are the sisters I chose, the people I invited into my life and kept close because we held each other up and made each other’s lives better.

  Until she betrayed me.

  I drag in a sharp breath.

  Matt’s infidelity didn’t really surprise me. It was the third time he fucked around on me. I only stayed with him because of Clarissa. I didn’t want her to grow up in a broken home.

  And frankly? Being a single mom is tough. My mom told me so enough throughout my childhood. I had no illusions that things would be better without him. So…the other times, when he begged me to take him back, I did.

  But Marcy?

  I’d never have thought she was capable of this type of thing. Elementary school teachers are supposed to be wholesome and good. And she was—or so I thought. And we’d been best friends for almost six years. She threw six years of friendship away on a guy she already knew is a cheater.

  Three times makes him a serial cheater in my book. Thus the exit from my life.

  Well, I like to tell myself that’s why he’s gone.

  In reality? He doesn’t want me back—I’m not so sure he ever really wanted me at all. I was dumped.

  In fact, I was dumped twice—in one day—by people I loved.

  Love. Actively love.

  Present tense.

  That’s the thing that burns my ass. Even though they’ve ripped my heart out, I still love them.

  I mean, I don’t love Matt the same as I did when I was in love with him. But I do still care about him. Though I so wish I didn’t care at all. Oh, how I wish I didn’t.