by Gabbi Wright
I smile and shrug. I don’t have a better response.
“Yes,” Lance says, “I’m her boyfriend. And that means she through with you. Sorry you had to learn about it this way. Now, where was I?”
Gary throws his hands up in defeat. “We could have had something special. We had a real connection. You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”
He stomps back to his car.
As he opens the door, I wave and say, “See you at work Monday.”
Okay, maybe that was dumb, but I feel bad. I don’t want him to think that I hate him or anything.
Gary sits in the driver’s seat, pouting, and staring back at the two of us.
I walk up next to Lance and he puts his arm about my waist in a false familiarity and pulls me close.
I feel completely consumed by those arms, as those he really has claimed me as his girlfriend.
Gary’s eyes narrow.
“I think we should really drive this home,” Lance says, “Make it so he doesn’t question us again.”
“Really? What do you have in mind?”
He spins me in front of him, arms on my hips. Yes, I know exactly what he’s thinking. He’s a foot taller than me, and I have to stand on my toes. He almost lifts me from the ground, easily.
Lance brings his lips to mine, and for a second I think, What the Hell?
But his arms are sanctuary, and his lips are so inviting. Though his eyes are playful, doing this for Gary, the press of his lips are all too real.
I wrap my arms about his neck, hopping up against him melting against his burly body, and meet his mouth. I kiss him with all the passion I can muster, and despite the lie we’ve told it feels almost natural.
This will convince what’s his face… I think, and for the life of me, I can’t remember who anymore. This will convince him. This will convince me.
I shove my tongue in his mouth, where his is waiting, hot and wet.
Is that his cock I feel pressing against my tummy? He’s hard for me already.
I hop up and he moves his hands under me, supporting me by my ass, holding me against him like I weigh nothing, as we continue making out on the front sidewalk, in front of god and all of man. And so help me, my desire for him skyrockets. I’m briefly glad we both have pants on, or this would be a whole different ride.
The image is still there, bouncing up and down on his cock…
When our mouths part to catch our breaths, Lance sets me down gently. He bites his lower lip in a smirk, and chuckles. “Well, that was fun,” he says, “He’s gone now.”
I’m maybe breathing a little hard. I suck in on my lower lip, still tasting him. I still feel warm from the press of his body and the grip of his hands.
So help me, I’m too warm.
“Umm, thanks,” I reply.
We stare at each other awkwardly. I tuck my hands into the back pockets of my jeans and shift from foot to foot.
“So, uhh, let me know if you need anything else,” Lance says.
“I will.” I wave bye as we both return to our respective homes. Those last words of his make me wonder exactly what he meant.
I suspect I know exactly what he means, and I’m not thinking very rationally. He’s my neighbor. I know very little about him, and him about me. And still I’m thinking about what new need he’s awakened in me.
I want him.
Yep, best to retreat to the sanctuary of my house and banish this urge with a battery-operated boyfriend.
I don’t move this fast, do I?
Fuck, I always do. That’s what gets me into trouble.
And do I really want to get mixed up with a guy as old as my father?
Chapter 4 - Lance
Holy shit that woman’s hot. My cock is still hard for her. I wonder if I hadn’t put her down if I could’ve carried her home and dropped her into my bed. She’d put on a good show for her stalker. She almost convinced me that I really was her boyfriend.
I swear that I’d seen in her eyes the same desire for me as I had for her.
That’s crazy, though. No woman that beautiful is going to fall for an ugly fucker like me. I’ve got scars. I have a history.
Guys like me don’t get women like that.
My past is full of short affairs finding pleasure where I could. I’ve never allowed myself to settle into a relationship, not with my line of work. No relationship lasted more than a week, as I rarely stayed in one place long enough.
Now, here I am, pushing fifty and no family to speak of, no relationship.
It would be nice to stop running. That’s why I’d bought this home, isn’t it? To stop running.
What I need is to find a woman my age, one wanting to keep things simple.
Being alone in a house is something I’m used to.
For the first time, I feel a little lonely.
In the past I might have gone out to a bar and picked up a fuck for the night. I should go out and get this itch scratched, but strangely, I don’t want to.
I don’t want other women.
Now I want her.
I want to do more to that sexy, hot mouth. I want to do everything imaginable to that young body.
No, I don’t want anyone else.
Chapter 5 - Dina
Separated from Lance, I press my back against my front door and stay there for long minutes, still trying to catch my breath. Oh my god, that kiss… He’d held me so easily.
I add that to my bucket list. I want everything that moment had promised.
He’s just next door. He wants me, I know it.
Dina! Get your mind out of the gutter.
I suspect I’m never going to hear from Gary again.
There’s a toy in the drawer next to my bed that’s going to keep me out of trouble. But even scratching that itch isn’t enough to keep me from thinking about him, and the dildo is no substitute for what I want.
Chapter 6 - Dina
Most of the time I really enjoy my job. Brooke keeps sending me candid photos of her and our boss in Hawaii, and I’m jealous of her happiness. I’m jealous of the sunshine and beaches. I’m jealous that’s she in love. She can’t hide it; I recognize it in her smile and in her eyes. Just over a week ago, she’d been crushing on our boss Anthony, with no hope of ever getting with him.
I used to tease her relentlessly.
No? They look so genuinely happy with each other, and I can see the two of them actually making it work.
That’s the same girl who had run from every relationship in her past. In the end, I think she got what she was looking for.
And it looks so warm in the pictures, they’re flashing a lot of skin for this time of year, and it reminds me just how cold January is in Idaho.
My mind goes back to that kiss in front of my house.
That’s something that could keep me warm.
As though summoned by my illicit thought, Gary walks by my desk. He’s sulking, but to his credit he doesn’t bother saying anything to me. Just a quick glance.
What did I ever see in him? He’s nothing like what I’m after. I think I could go for somebody with a bit more meat on his bones, maybe a little older. Just a little, of course. After all, I’m just twenty-three, and have my whole life ahead of me. It might be nice to meet somebody who’s got his life all figured out, maybe with his own place.
Like Lance.
Just not him, because that would be crazy, wouldn’t it? A guy over twice my age?
Definitely a kisser like him, though. And with that same strength. The same confidence and experience.
I wonder what experience he does have. Am I jealous of that? I might’ve been, if he were my age. But an older man, well, I expect him to have experience. And let’s just say what if I did hook up with him.
How could I compete with his past? At his age, is he looking for a woman with as much experience? Because, while I’m no stranger to dating with a little slap and tickle, I don’t have that much experience.
I wish Brooke were here to tal
k to. Not that she would have the best advice, but she could help me organize my thoughts. I don’t message her; I don’t want to distract her from her fun.
And boy, is she making her life difficult. It’s no secret where she is. The whole office somehow knows. She didn’t even win the vacation at the holiday party, and yet she still gets out of work.
I’ve had people asking if her vacation is paid or not. I tell them to mind their own business. I’m not sure she even knows.
I wonder if I’ll see Lance after work.
Chapter 7 - Lance
It’s three days before I see her again. I’d thought giving her some distance would get her out of my impure thoughts, but I find distance only makes me want her more. I see her, of course, through my window each night coming home from work. I watch her walk up her front walk carrying her purse and lunch bag.
I see the way she glances a little too long at my house as though she might catch a glance of me, too. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.
That kiss had been way too forward of me, starting as a game, and she had thrown herself into it with complete abandon.
I have seriously lusted over her ever since.
Dina comes home alone every day. She doesn’t have any other boyfriend, and her ‘break-up’ with that Gary guy had apparently not even been a thing. I don’t see friends coming over nor family, and for the most part it looks like she’s as alone as me.
I wonder if she too is lonely.
I give her a few minutes to get settled before I head over. I can barely believe that it’s me knocking on her door. But once I commit to something, I see it through.
A part of me wonders if maybe I’ve blown her out of proportion, that maybe I see her as more attractive than she really is, just because I’m lonely. When she comes to the door though – no – I feel my heart flutter.
And that’s a new feeling. I don’t think my heart’s ever ‘fluttered’ for anyone before.
Her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail. She’s wearing a little make-up, which she hadn’t been on the weekend, and though she’s switched out of her work clothes and into sweats and a sweater, she is no less beautiful. I actually enjoy seeing her relaxed and comfortable.
“Lance!” she exclaims, and she sounds genuinely excited to see me. “What’s going on? Need me to chase off a possessive girlfriend?”
I chuckle. “No, none of them round here. I thought maybe, if you’re not doing anything, that you might like to join me for dinner. I’m not the best cook but I know my way around a telephone. I thought maybe you could recommend a place with good takeout.”
“You bet! Or would you rather go someplace? Maybe get out of the house?”
“Sure,” I say, shrugging, “If you’d rather.”
“I would, if you don’t mind. I know a Mexican restaurant a few blocks away that has the best enchiladas in the entire Treasure Valley.”
“Treasure Valley?”
“Yeah, that’s kind of a nickname for the Boise region. You’re gonna have to get out more if you want to pass as a local. Good thing you’ve got me to show you around. Come on in, I’m not going out in sweats.”
“Sure.”
I follow into her small home, and it gives me a good sense of who she is. There are no signs of any pets, and most of the shelves hold books, a combination of romance and urban fantasy. Potted plants serve both as décor and bookends.
“Want another beer while you wait?”
“Why not.”
Dina motions to the couch and grabs a beer from her fridge.
“I see you’ve restocked,” I say, popping it open.
“Just in case I ever need to repay you for chasing off stalkers,” she replies, and I can’t help smiling at the twinkle in her eyes.
She slips into the bedroom to change. I get up and peruse her bookshelves. I’ve never been a heavy reader but have read some on occasion. I never read any of this stuff, of course. I’m more of an action and adventure guy, especially military fiction.
She’s back quickly, almost in the amount of time it takes me to finish the beer. Dina’s hair is down, cascading around her shoulders, and she’s changed from her sweats to a pair of jeans.
“Ready” she says.
* * *
“They really do have the best enchiladas,” I say around mouthfuls.
“Told ya,” Dina replies. She leans back in her chair, completely comfortable with me as though we’re old friends.
This isn’t a date, I remind myself, but it almost feels like one. Or at least a meal with a good friend. It doesn’t seem to bother her that she’s here with an older man that everyone in the place probably thinks is her father. In that regard, it probably isn’t a date. I need to stop thinking that it is.
But it’s hard not to appreciate the natural sensualness of watching her eat. She’s turning me on just by watching her put something in her mouth.
“So, uh, have you lived in Boise your entire life?” I ask.
“Yes, mostly. My family lives close, in Nampa, east of here. I moved out when I went to BSU and just kind of stayed. Not that it’s far away, but it’s something. What about you?”
“Just moved here,” I reply.
“Very funny. Where’s your family from?”
“Well, I come from a military family,” I reply. I haven’t thought about my parents in quite some time and haven’t spoken to either my mom or dad for several months. “I spent a lot of my childhood overseas.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“I guess, though it would have been nice to have a stable home, maybe have steady friends. It used to make me so angry when dad would pack us up and move across Europe. I don’t think I actually walked on American soil until I was in my teens.”
“I always dreamed of traveling,” she replies, “I’ve always wanted to see Europe, especially Ireland and Scotland.”
“So why don’t you?”
“Ugh, I can’t even save money. You’d think four years of college would have set me up for a decent job, but really, I’m just making enough to get by, you know? I can’t even think about going out of state, let alone getting that far away.”
“Oh, one day,” I reply, “I’m sure you’ll find a way.”
“Right now, my best friend is on vacation in Hawaii, and I’m so jealous. Brooke was as stuck here as I am, and suddenly she’s dating my boss and whisked off to tropical beaches.”
“Which part are you jealous of, the beaches, or the boss?”
“Oh, definitely the boss, right? Who doesn’t have boss fantasies?”
I actually take her seriously until she snorts.
“The beaches, of course,” she continues, “Who wants to date their boss? Ick. You ever been to Hawaii?”
“Actually, not really. I was there once to switch planes coming back from Japan, but that was it. Most of my time’s been spent on continents – Asia, North Africa and the Middle East, and the last few years in South America.”
“Wow, what was that like?”
I stare down at my food. Those aren’t good memories, and not something I want to share with her. I don’t want her to be a part of that world, of the violence I’ve seen. Much of my merc years involved violence with drug cartels and militias. There’s a lot of blood on my hands, and I don’t want to stain her view of me with that blood.
“You know,” I reply, “Work. Somebody gives you money and tells you to do something, and I go and do it. Boring, really.”
“I doubt that.”
“Oh yeah? Let’s talk about your work then.”
She throws her head back and groans. “Ugh! Okay, work is boring, I get it, even if you’re flying across the country. You should have an Instagram account, then you could be an influencer, taking sexy pics everywhere you go.”
It’s my turn to snort. “Oh yeah,” I say, gesturing at my burly form, “This is sexy. Want to see my duck lips?”
Dina gives me a shrug and smile, accompanied by a raised e
yebrow.
I don’t know how to take that, so I take another bite of my food.
Chapter 8 - Dina
He’s so secretive! Despite being so relaxed and at ease, despite everything he tells me, he verbally dances around giving me any details.
So, he travels a lot, great. What has he seen? Oh, you know, nothing to talk about. Seriously? I make a vow that one day I’m going to get him to talk.
But the date is nice.
Yeah, it feels like a date, though I’m sure he won’t call it that. He’s easy to talk to, and his questions come off as genuine interest, like he actually wants to know more about me.
And I must be so boring, compared to what he’s used to.
And I wonder, what exactly is he used to? I’m sure every woman he’s ever slept with is somebody exotic, with dark tans and foreign accents. Or maybe super pale with foreign accents. Which is he the most into?
Hell, I could go for some exotic too.
We stay long after the waitress has taken our plates away, and I find myself opening up about my future.
“No,” I say, “I don’t want to work in PR for the rest of my life. I used to have dreams about being a digital artist, but it just feels like I’m just working to survive, you know?”
“What about boyfriends?” he asks, “Given any thought to settling down? Kids and such?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Like maybe way down the road. I put my education first in college. Had a few serious relationships, but when they moved on, I continued doing my own thing.”
“You still do your art?”
“Not as much,” I reply, “Mostly no. I stare at computers all day at work, and when I get home all I wanna do is crash. My body aches from sitting all the time.”
“You should get back to it,” he says, “I bet you’re good.”
“Maybe? I don’t even know anymore.”
He scoffs. “You’re still young. If I’ve got one piece of advice, it’s that you need to use this time to make yourself what you want to be. Otherwise, you’re going to wake up one day and realize that you’ve become how everybody else perceives you. You won’t even recognize the person you once thought you were.”
