Covet Thy Neighbor

by L. A. Witt

  Darren laughed as he followed me up the stairs to our apartments. “I told you, didn’t I?”

  “I thought you were kidding.”

  “I never kid when it comes to dodgeball.” He paused. “And I’d like to take this opportunity to sincerely thank you for introducing a few new vocabulary words to my kids.”

  I didn’t even try to appear sheepish as I glanced over my shoulder. “You really think they’ve never heard anything like that before?”

  “I’m sure they have. But probably not echoing through a church sanctuary.”

  “Okay, fair point.”

  We stopped in that hallway between our apartments. Immediately the awkwardness started creeping in. Something about this place, apparently. It always felt like we were hovering in some neutral space, like this hallway was some level of Limbo. There was always that feeling like we were at a crossroads.

  Darren cleared his throat. “By the way, I know I mentioned this before, but what you did for Josephine, that was… that was really great.”

  “Yeah, well. I don’t know if I did much for her faith. Sorry about that.”

  “At this point, I don’t care.” Darren scratched his neck. “I’m supposed to tell her to have faith in Christ, but the way Josephine sees things right now, that faith is the reason she’s in this mess. What she needs now is a roof over her head, food in her mouth, and people who won’t throw her out on the street.” He exhaled and lowered his hand. “So that’s the part I’m trying to take care of.”

  “Looks like she’s off to a good start, then. With everything you guys are doing.”

  “We do our best. And I really do appreciate you going down there tonight. I think you’re exactly what those kids need.” A faint smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Even if a church isn’t your favorite place in the world.”

  I shrugged. “Well, it’s a lot different from the other ones I’ve been to. And so are….” You. You’re the polar opposite of what I know. You shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t exist. I rocked back and forth from my heels to the balls of my feet, trying to do something with all this nervous energy. “You’re not like other ministers I’ve known.”

  “I used to be,” he said quietly.

  I stopped moving. “Really?”

  Darren nodded and leaned against his door frame. “I told you I’m from a family of missionaries. I was a pretty hard-core evangelist when I was younger.”

  “So what changed?”

  “I spent two years in Niger and Malawi.”

  “Missionary work?”

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t one of those ‘go in and convert the natives’ things.” He shifted a little, shoulder still pressed against the doorframe. “I mean, it was, but we were also helping this village get on its feet after one of the civil wars. Putting in some wells and things like that.”

  “So Peace Corps type work.”

  “You could call it that.” His eyes lost focus. “And it’s another world over there, you know? People dying of things we don’t even think about anymore.” He swallowed, and I thought he might’ve shuddered. “I’ll never forget this kid I met there. By the time he was eight years old, he could handle an AK-47 and he’d helped bury most of his own family, but he’d never tasted clean water.”

  “Oh man.” I swallowed. “I can’t even imagine.”

  “No, you definitely can’t unless you’ve seen it.” Darren shuddered. “So anyway, some of the guys I was with, they were talking one night about how blessed we all are. Seeing those third-world conditions made them realize how much God blesses us and how good God is.” His lips tightened for a moment, and he met my eyes. “And the whole time they were talking, all I could think of was that kid. I’m blessed beyond words, but what about him?”

  “Wow. That must have been jarring.” And probably would have knocked the faith right out of me if I’d still been a believer.

  “It was. And it changed me. It really did. I do believe God is good, of course, and I’m certainly blessed, but when I see people in those conditions, I don’t think about how good God’s made my life compared to that. What I see is all the work we need to do for each other, you know? I’m still moved to share the Gospel with people, but I think I’m more like….” He dropped his gaze, and some color bloomed in his cheeks.

  “What?”

  Darren laughed softly. “I guess a Biblical parable isn’t really what you want to hear.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I can see the value in a lot of those stories. Try me.”

  “Well, you know the Good Samaritan story as well as anyone. And especially after what I saw during my missionary work, I find that someone who’s starving or homeless or suffering isn’t as inclined to listen as someone who has food and a roof. So I guess….” He searched my eyes for a moment. “I guess I feel like God’s calling me to bandage the people on the side of the road, and let Christ handle the rest.”

  “That’s a….” I exhaled. “It’s a refreshing switch from what I’m used to, believe me.”

  And there it was: that eye contact that locked, lingered, and seemed to tug me toward him. I had no idea what to say right then. Nothing that didn’t sound awkward, or wouldn’t come out as “You almost sound good enough to date, but fuck you for being a Christian.” Because he wasn’t the kind of Christian who scared me. He was Darren, and he was amazing, and I was staring at him.

  I muffled a cough and tried to find somewhere else to look, at least until I got my bearings about me, but my eyes kept going right back to his.

  “This keeps happening,” he said, almost whispering.

  I swallowed. “What’s that?”

  “Whenever we’re here”—he waved a hand around our narrow confines—“between our apartments, we seem to be inept at just calling it a night.”

  “Well, given how our evenings have turned out a few times, maybe we’re just out of practice. At just walking away.”

  Darren nodded slowly. “Or maybe it means we shouldn’t keep trying to walk away.”

  The whole world shifted under me. “We….”

  He pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped closer to me, driving my heart rate skyward. “Seth, you and I aren’t all that different. We believe different things, but we’re just two men. And I think in some ways, we want the same things.”

  “We want the same things? Like what?”

  “You tell me.” He leaned toward me, and the warm brush of his fingertips across my five-o’clock shadow turned my spine to liquid. His lips touched mine, and I wrapped my arms around him.

  “Should you be doing this?” I asked.

  “I’m not.” His breath warmed the side of my face. “We are.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Darren drew back and met my eyes. “I do, and quite honestly, I can’t convince myself there’s anything wrong with this.”

  In that moment, neither could I.

  Chapter Eleven

  SOMEWHERE IN the middle of a kiss, I managed to find my house key in my pocket, and murmured, “We should get inside.”

  Darren nodded, pulling back a little and licking his lips. “Sooner the better.”

  Oh hell. With the hunger in his eyes, I was half-tempted to see how much we could get away with right here between our apartments. But the lube and condoms necessary for what I really wanted were in my bedroom, so with some cursing and trembling, I unlocked my door and let us in.

  Halfway down the short hall, I couldn’t wait and turned around, and we segued from walking to kissing like it was the next logical step.

  This wasn’t the way we’d kissed before. It was different. Slower. Calmer. No one pushed anyone up against anything. Hands were gentle and every motion was languid, mouths moving together like we wanted to savor every taste. We’d always been in such a rush. This time, there was no less urgency, but the need to hurry had cooled, like we didn’t have to scramble to get to our destination because we were already there.

  Darren’s lips left mine, and
he whispered, “We’re both still sweaty from that dodgeball game. Maybe….”

  “Maybe we should grab a shower.”

  “Yes.” His lip just grazed mine. “That.”

  “Good idea.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “We’ll get there.” A light kiss. Another. “In a minute.”

  Darren didn’t seem to mind. He pulled me closer, his fingers pressing into my skin through my clothes, and my knees shook as I yielded to a kiss that was getting progressively more demanding.

  “Fuck.” I gasped for air. “Okay. About that shower.” I dragged him back a step toward the bathroom. “We should get on that. Like now.”

  He laughed. “Good idea.”

  In the shower, we got as far as getting soap on our hands, and then we were back in each other’s arms. Slippery hands ran over wet skin. Our bodies were slick, hot, pressed together under the water while we made out like we had all night to turn each other on.

  Then Darren faced the water. As he did, the sharp black lines and letters between his shoulder blades jolted something deep in my gut. Immediately the other night’s worries tried to come crashing back in, but I wasn’t letting them ruin this moment. Regrets and reservations could wait until tomorrow morning. Tonight, Darren was mine.

  I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my lips to the side of his neck. “My God, I want you so bad.”

  Darren moaned and rubbed his ass against my cock, his skin slick and hot from soap and water. I could barely think, overwhelmed by this slow pantomime, this parody of everything I needed to do to him. I wanted to be touching him just like this, our bodies this close together, but I wanted to be deep inside him too. Damn the need for lube and rubbers, because I would have sold my soul to be able to just fuck him. Right here, right now.

  “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” I growled in his ear.

  Darren whimpered and pressed back against me.

  I kissed just below his jaw. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes. We should… bedroom.”

  “Mmm, I like that idea.” I slid a hand over his hip and deliberately brushed his cock with my fingertips. “Except I like this too.”

  He moaned, wriggling against me. “Seth….”

  “Hmm?”

  “Bedroom.”

  The forcefulness of that one word almost made me come. I exhaled against his neck, then kissed it and whispered, “Let’s go.”

  We quickly rinsed off, then toweled off—sort of—and hurried into my bedroom.

  Now that was the kiss I recognized: breathless, groping, demanding. Fingers raked through wet hair. His hard cock ground against mine. I cursed between kisses, and now and then I was sure he did the same, and then we tumbled into bed and—

  “Wait!” He arched off the bed and grimaced.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  He winced. “Tattoo’s still a little itchy.”

  “Shit. Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just means I—” He caught me off guard and flipped me onto my back and straddled me. “—get to be on top.”

  All the air left my lungs at once. “You won’t… you won’t hear me objecting.”

  “Excellent.” He leaned down and kissed me quickly. “Condoms?”

  Oh God. I so love it when you take charge.

  Moistening my lips, I gestured at the nightstand. He pulled the necessities from the drawer. Thank fuck I’d left a few condoms and a half-empty bottle of lube over here that first night, because there just wasn’t time to go get them from Darren’s apartment.

  As he rolled the condom onto my cock, I said, “You do like being in charge, don’t you?”

  He grinned down at me. “I think you like me being in charge.”

  I licked my lips again. “I’m not going to argue with that.”

  “Didn’t think you would.” He poured some lube onto his hand. Neither of us said anything. This close to fucking him, I was too turned on for banter. Hell, for speech at all.

  Darren put the lube bottle aside, and my whole body tingled with anticipation as he lifted his hips. I steadied my cock with one hand, his hip with the other, and we both held our breath as he lowered himself onto me. I closed my eyes, digging my teeth into my lower lip as he took me a little at a time. Holy fuck, he felt amazing. The tight, slick, up-and-down motion drove me right out of my damned mind.

  I reached up to pull him down to me, but he grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the bed. I knew he liked to take charge, but it still caught me by surprise. And turned me on beyond belief. Curling my hands into useless fists, I pressed my heels into the bed and thrust upward, complementing his rhythm and forcing myself deeper inside him.

  He leaned over me but stayed just out of reach of my lips, holding my gaze but denying me a kiss. I was completely pinned. Completely at his mercy.

  “I’ve been dying for this,” he whispered. “Every time I see you, I….” He trailed off into a soft moan.

  I managed to get one hand free and reached between us to stroke him. He gasped, throwing his head back and riding me a little faster.

  “Like that?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah.”

  Our eyes locked just like they always did. We held each other’s gazes, barely blinking, and even when my eyes tried to tear up, I couldn’t look anywhere but right at him. Just watching him, seeing his skin flush and the cords stand out from his neck as he picked up speed, made me almost as crazy as fucking him, and every thrust sent me closer to coming as much from the sight of him as the slick, hot motion of my cock moving in and out of him.

  Darren screwed his eyes shut. His cock stiffened in my hand. I stroked faster. He rode me harder, and as he came, his semen coated my palm, making my strokes slippery and hot, and I lost it. I swore and groaned and thrust upward to get as far into him as I could get, and we both shuddered and fucking shattered.

  His hips stopped. My hand stopped. Darren shuddered one last time. As he sank down to me, I wrapped my arms around him and found his lips with mine. We were both panting. Both shaking. Both sweaty, unsteady, and breathing too hard to kiss, but we did it anyway.

  He broke away. “That was hot.”

  “Yes, it was,” I whispered. I very nearly added, It’s always hot when we’re together, but didn’t dare.

  So I just kissed him again.

  THE SILENCE that followed sex with Darren always got awkward in a hurry, so we didn’t give the awkwardness a chance to set in. As soon as we’d calmed down enough to kiss without passing out, we made out until we were both turned on again. After a second go-around, we took another shower, which led to a third time, which exhausted the fuck out of both of us. After that, we slept.

  Which saved the awkwardness until the morning after.

  Half-dressed and barefoot, we clung to our coffee cups. The kitchens in these apartments were damned small, and we had both backed ourselves up against opposite counters as if we could push the cabinets apart and create a few extra inches between us.

  Same shit, different morning. I had no idea what to say. Restlessness had me shifting my weight, trying to get rid of some energy that refused to be satisfied by anything less than running like hell out of this room.

  Except we were in my apartment this time. There was no quick, polite exit that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete asshole.

  Darren rinsed his empty coffee cup and set it in the sink. “I should probably get going.”

  “I guess I should get my day started too,” I said. “Have to go do some work in the shop before I open.”

  “No rest for the weary, am I right?”

  I laughed, and he flashed a quick grin that did all kinds of screwy shit to my balance and blood pressure. Then he left the room, leaving me to my heartbeat and spinning head as he went into my bedroom to, I guessed, get the rest of his clothes.

  I rubbed my temples with my fingers. God, I had no idea what to do. It was a crime against humanity that sex that hot—was Darren even capable of being “meh” in bed?—had
to have this kind of weight attached to it.

  Something had to give, though. We couldn’t keep playing this game.

  His footsteps sent my heartbeat ratcheting up again. Funny how the same man could make my blood pressure rise from arousal or from nerves, depending on the time of day and how recently we’d fucked.

  He returned to the kitchen, dressed and ready to go, and we walked in silence to my front door. He reached for the doorknob but hesitated. Time for the awkward small talk, yes?

  “I’ll, um….” He paused, dropping his gaze.

  The air between us pulsed with something unspoken. I didn’t dare ask what was on his mind. I was too afraid to hear it.

  “Seth.” He looked me straight in the eye. “We need to talk.”

  My stomach flipped. “Okay. Let’s, um, let’s talk.”

  Hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, he leaned against the door. “What exactly are we doing?”

  Fuck. Here we go.

  “Um, well….” I reached up to scratch the back of my neck. “I’m not sure, to be honest.”

  “Neither am I.” He shifted his weight. Then did it again. “Listen, I’m not after a long-term commitment or anything. Don’t get me wrong. But I’m not going to keep doing this yo-yo thing. We can’t keep our hands off each other, and then we sleep together, and then it’s awkward, and….” He exhaled hard. “And we just keep going back and forth from ‘just friends and neighbors’ to dragging each other into bed.”

  I couldn’t face him. Speaking was out of the question.

  “I’m not going to keep playing this game and just having a string of one-night stands together.” He paused for a few long seconds. “I won’t push you into something you don’t want, but quite honestly, I don’t believe you when you say you don’t want it.”

  I managed a quiet, nervous laugh. “Didn’t you once say something about not being the aggressive type?”

  “With most people, I’m not. But I told you it’s different when I see something I want.”

  Glancing at him, I gulped.