Dream Neighbour

by Francesca St. Claire

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass this time,” I said, laying a shaky hand over my thudding heart, bracing myself for his response. Images of a steamy kiss, large hands stroking my body and a thick erection pressing against my belly, sent blood pumping hotly through my veins. Oh, God!

  “Are you sure?”

  No! For what seemed to be ages I debated with my decision, my heart twisted with longing and regret. I was trapped between two conflicting voices—how I wanted to agree, to accept Stephen’s invitation to dinner and channel the wildfire flowing between us. Stop!

  There was no use in continuing to torture myself with thoughts and images of what could, or would, indubitably be the best sex night of my life. I’d made up my mind. This was the best course of action—the only course of action—to consider and I was going to stick with my decision.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I’m leaving on vacation in a couple of days and I have a ton of things to prepare before then.”

  There was a long silence while I tried to guess his feelings—if frustration was one of them well, then we were even. The urge to change my answer balanced on the tip of my tongue. Was I crazy? How could I waste this chance with the nicest, most gorgeous man I’d met in a long, long time? He wouldn’t ask me again—there were no doubts there. And he would only pine for me during the time it would take him to pick up the phone again and call a more willing date. Gorgeous men like him didn’t need to eat alone.

  Enough! My decision was made. I was going to gamble on his interest in me to hold until I came back from Mexico. I hoped I wouldn’t live to regret it.

  The sound of the cleaning crew in the hallway brought me back to reality. Time to go and drown my disappointment in a drink…or two!

  “I’ll see you when you come back then,” he said calmly before he hung up, and I bit my lip to stop myself saying, do we have a date?

  * * * *

  Six hours later, I tossed and turned in my big, lonely bed unable to sleep. I imagined Stephen Parker dispensing his charms four floors below on a woman smart enough to have said yes to him.

  I’d made a choice. I’d made a choice and now I was suffering the consequences. I dived under the pillow, hoping to shut out my own thoughts and cravings.

  What was done was done. I’d gambled on a future relationship, and if it meant high levels of frustration in the meantime, well, I had no one to blame but myself. But the knowledge still didn’t help me to sleep. Images of Stephen and I doing what we hadn’t done were tormenting me. The harder I tried not to think of us having sex, the more I did, the hornier I got, the more wound up I became. Something had to be done.

  I turned on the light at the side of the bed and reached for my Rabbit friend. After I’d made myself comfortable, I slipped a finger into my wet channel, then dragged it slowly over my clit, circling a few times until wet heat pooled in my pussy. My eyelids felt heavy, my breath came shorter. This wasn’t going to take long. I was too aroused from fantasising about Stephen all evening. In my mind we’d already fucked in every possible position half a dozen times. There was no need for lube—I was plenty wet when I thrust the vibrator inside my slit. Mmm.

  I imagined Stephen kissing me, soft lips skimming my earlobe, jaw and the corner of my mouth. His large hands stroking every inch of my aroused body as his thick cock entered me, slowly, purposefully. My pussy throbbed with need. Taking one engorged nipple between my thumb and finger, I stroked it to an aching peak. Then I slid my other hand down, caressed my swollen folds before I found my clit, hard and alive, and began to rub. Pleasure arced through my body as the sensations built. Blood pounded in my veins, my pulse beating along all my nerve-endings. Soon I was on my way to total bliss, moaning, my face heated, my eyes squeezed shut. The rotating beads stroking and stimulating my vagina brought me rapidly to the brink of an orgasm that usually took a man a lot longer to achieve. As for the Rabbit… oh my God! That device was amazing. Once I latched the rabbit ears onto my clit and it began to vibrate, I reached paradise in all of thirty seconds, groaning as intense heat covered my breasts, neck and face. I plunged into darkness, melting around the iron like shaft embedded deep in me.

  * * * *

  A few days later…

  A morning meeting got me out of the house an hour earlier than usual, only to witness Stephen Parker and a dark-haired woman get in a cab and drive away.

  I stood there unable to move for a long time, disappointment so fierce I wanted to cry, before my practical mind prevented me from indulging in self-pity. I had gambled and I had lost. Case closed. Nobody was to blame.

  But once in my office, I slumped into my chair and stared wide-eyed at my reflection on the monitor’s dark screen before pressing the ‘on’ button. I watched it change colour in a state of prostration not typical of me. My plan had failed, and though I should have expected Stephen to carry on as before, deep down I had hoped he would wait for my return before moving on to his next love interest.

  More the fool.

  Chapter Three

  Like any true, avid reader I took every opportunity to put my nose into a book and nothing gave me a bigger thrill than buying them. My collection was massive, and I always kept a ‘to be read’ stash near my bed. I’d taken a few to Mexico, read a couple, and now was the time to pay Barnes & Noble a visit.

  Whenever I visited a bookstore, I always browsed the bestseller shelves like I was a kid in a candy store—I wanted a sample of each. This time was no exception.

  “Are you planning to move to a desert island?”

  I looked up to find Stephen Parker across the display table. His eyes flickered from my newly trimmed hair to my weekend wear—quite a change from the silk outfits I’d been wearing the other times we’d met. He walked around the table, stopping a few inches from me, and raised one dark eyebrow. “Are you?”

  What was the question again? The fuck if I remembered.

  The weekend stubble suited him, and so did the casual clothes. He was all male and gorgeous and I just wanted to rub myself against him and purr. His sex appeal was ridiculous, and so was my lust for him.

  I placed my basket on the table. Cocking my head slightly, I smiled up at him. “What was that?”

  He took a step closer and the subtle scent of his aftershave teased my senses. Mmm, very nice. It wasn’t at all overpowering, just a nice blend that mixed well with his natural scent. This one was different from the cologne he’d used when we’d met before, which led me to believe he had taken the time to research fragrances, to find his own signature scents. If so, he’d done well—it worked for me. I wanted to nuzzle his neck, take a whiff…then another.

  “Why so many books? Planning a retreat?”

  With you? Most definitely! “As a matter of fact, I’ve just got back from one.” I glanced at my full basket, realising I had let myself get a little carried away.

  He cocked his head, and leaned in slightly, his gaze caressing my sun-kissed face. “I wondered…where did you go?”

  “Cancun,” I answered distractedly, jolted by his close proximity.

  “Yeah?” His gaze lingered, and my mouth started to slowly drift open before I caught myself a moment away from licking my lips. Our eyes met. “How was it?”

  I blinked a couple of times, breaking the spell. “Er…warm.” Longing trailed in my voice as I thought of the lazy days spent reading in the sun and swimming in the warm waters of the Caribbean Sea. “Nice…real nice. My best vacation yet.”

  His eyes darkened.

  Alone? I heard the word as clearly as if he’d spoken it. My heart jumped and kicked for a few beats. Despite the dark-haired woman gracing his bed these last few weeks, or God knows how many in-between… she hadn’t put him off me. The implication of such a possibility thrilled me. I fought exhilaration and angst as I saw the resolve in his eyes.

  I glanced at the book he was holding. “Excellent choice.”

  “You’ve read it?”

  “Yes, and loved it. I’m getting book two and three.”
I nodded at my basket where the two copies lay. “If you want, I can lend them to you after I’m done.” Or I can read them to you in bed…

  “I’d like that. Look, Sam—”

  I sucked in my breath in anticipation of his next words.

  “Have you got time for a coffee?” he asked, his blue gaze probing deep into mine.

  I leaned in, drawn by his animal magnetism. A wave of desire surged towards my throat from deep within my stomach. I knew this was probably my last chance with him. I couldn’t expect a man that gorgeous to try a third time to get a date with me. But what about the woman? Well, the way I saw it I had two choices—I could pretend I’d never seen him with her, or I could ask questions and perhaps ruin my chances with him.

  I took the easy option. “I’ve got time.” Yes! Had I sounded a bit breathless? Who cared—there was no point pretending. I was just too giddy to control my response to him.

  “Good!” He grinned and grabbed my basket. “Starbucks is just around the corner.”

  * * * *

  Twenty minutes later we sat at a table by the window drinking cappuccinos. The fact that Stephen also drank his sprinkled with cinnamon could just be a coincidence…I preferred to see it as a promising sign.

  “This is delicious,” I said, placing my cup back on the table. “If only I could drink one and not have to worry about the consequences.” I puffed my cheeks up in jest.

  His eyes moved slowly over my body as if he were taking in every curve. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he said, appreciation lacing his smile.

  Warm pleasure swirled in my chest at his compliment. Perhaps I did look okay—though that would be thanks to three weekly visits to the gym and a careful diet every day but Saturday—but his praise had just validated all my hard work. I wondered if he worked out. I was sure he must. Genes alone could not claim sole responsibility for such a work of art. Images of Stephen at the strength deck—rippling muscles and gleaming skin—sent my pulse into overdrive. Easy girl.

  I sat back, a small, amused smile touching my lips. “Do you work out?”

  “Yes. Every day but Sundays. You?”

  “Every day…wow!” No wonder he was in such good shape. “I work out three times a week at Chelsea Piers.”

  The gym wasn’t far from home. It was possible he also went there, though I was sure I’d never seen him before our chance meeting at the concierge’s desk. Wouldn’t it be fun if he did?

  For me, there was no place like Chelsea Piers—they had great facilities, it was close to home… and packed with amazing looking guys. Christ, that’s what long abstinence was doing to my libido. That or my fantasies about this gorgeous neighbour were unhinging me.

  “They have a great pool. You should try it,” I added, trying to concentrate more on the conversation and less on my thoughts.

  “You swim at Chelsea Piers?” He sounded surprised, amused even, and I caught the flicker of his eyelids and the ever so slight widening of his smile as he stared at me. “Strange…I’ve never seen you there!”

  Oh! I stared back, pleased. “You swim at Chelsea Piers?”

  “I do. I also run, lift…and in between I try to work a little.

  “You work there?” Now I was surprised. I was sure I’d never seen him there in all the months I’d been a member.

  He nodded. “For the past three years, the last two as general manager of the sports facilities.”

  “Oh!” I took in his full measure…the way his grey cotton crewneck strained over his chest and shoulders, the width of his tanned neck, the cut of his jaw with the becoming stubble, and realised there was never a person more suited to his job. “So how does one get a job like that?”

  “A BA in Sports and Business Management helps,” he said casually. “My passion for sport didn’t hurt. But in the end it was my sparkling personality that got me the job,” he added, tongue-in-cheek.

  Noticing the tuck at the corner of his mouth, I laughed. Cute. “Sparkling personality, hey? You could’ve fooled me.”

  “I have. I’m really a boring guy, just ask my neighbour. She won’t even have dinner with me,” he said, smiling.

  Touché. “Maybe it’s not your personality that stops her from accepting your invitation,” I suggested. “She could be in a relationship.” His fully alert eyes bored into mine. “I’m just saying. There are a number of reasons for a woman to reject a date. It might not even have anything to do with the man asking…” I took a silent breath before leaping. “She could even be interested and still say no.”

  He leaned in, his expression unreadable. “Why would she do that?”

  Oh, would he find my reasons too lame? Would he understand my concerns? There was nothing better than to put it to the test and let the chips fall where they may.

  “The risk versus reward factor for a couple who live under the same roof might not be worth it.” There, I’d voiced my concerns. Now I would see what he had to say.

  I didn’t have to wait long for his response.

  “In my experience, I know how difficult it is to find someone you really click with. When you do, why not take a chance?” he asked, holding my gaze while his pragmatic words bounced around my brain. Then he shrugged one shoulder, took his cup and leant back in his seat. “I’m just saying.”

  He had a point.

  I’d never had awkward break-ups. Usually, we were both mature enough to stay civil, if not friends. Avoidance hadn’t ever been necessary—why should it be different now? Besides, it was high time I stopped bringing my mother’s old boyfriend into the equation. This was a different situation, a different man, different times. And if in the end it didn’t work out between us, I was sure we were both adult enough to overcome any awkwardness between us and carry on living under the same roof.

  “If that neighbour of yours suddenly changed her mind and agreed to a date with you, what would you say?” I blurted out.

  I searched for a reaction in his eyes as they remained fixed on me for a long moment. Then, he leant forward and brushed his soft lips over my cheek. Any remaining concerns melted away as my pulse went into a frenzy.

  “I’ll pick you up tonight at eight,” he murmured, and my heart flip-flopped. Pulling back, he winked at me. “That’s what I’d say if she changed her mind.”

  Tonight? My mouth went dry. I lowered my eyes while heat pooled low in my gut. Pleasant warmth ran through my veins, much like when I achieved excellence in my work, only better. But this business with the new neighbour could get complicated, and I hadn’t done complicated in a very long time. My days of risk-taking in the dating scene were over. No wonder I have sex with a vibrator instead of a man. True, so true.

  I blushed slightly and stole a peek at his exposed forearm with a light sprinkling of dark hair, and at his hand resting on a perfect muscular thigh clad in dark jeans. I tore my eyes from him and pushed away the thoughts of what his body must be like under those clothes.

  “You’re on!” I said, trying to keep my voice light, to not sound too eager in spite of the urge to do cartwheels in the middle of the crowded café.

  Chapter Four

  Stephen had mentioned where he’d be taking me, and as soon as I’d got home I’d researched it. As we descended the cosy stairwell of the old historic townhouse, I understood the recommendations. We didn’t have to search for a silver lining in this subterranean speakeasy—we were already in Paradise. The black and white décor and the soft glowing lights provided just the right venue for perfect relaxation.

  “This is great,” I said, glancing around.

  The place had a feeling of the twenties, and of what underground life must have been like back then when sophistication met seduction. In the packed bar, several bartenders dressed in retro outfits were busy mixing drinks.

  “There’s a table over there,” Stephen said, placing his hand at the small of my back as we walked towards the stage where a baby grand piano sat silent. Heat spread, gathering between my legs.

&
nbsp; “Do you come here often?” I asked, distracting my mind from dangerous ground.

  “I’ve been here a few times. I thought you might like—” He stopped mid-sentence when I shed my coat, his eyes alert and on my figure, accentuated by a curve-hugging little black dress, short enough to show off my long legs. “The dress”—he tilted his head towards me—“is very becoming.”

  I blushed at his compliment and not so subtle stare. “Thank you.”

  We took a seat at a small round table. The tall candle at the centre sent flickering shadows over the white tablecloth.

  “The food choice is not huge, but what they have is good,” Stephen explained. “Here, check out the menu,” he suggested, handing it to me.

  I pushed it back and shook my head. “Surprise me.”

  He studied me for a moment, his eyes shining with more than casual warmth. But he made no move. It appeared he was trying to make up his mind about something. “Don’t know about surprising you, but I think you’ll enjoy their lamb sliders and the ceviche. We’ll try the bagna cauda too.” He rubbed his chin. “Now comes the difficult part, what to drink in a place spoilt for choice.” Glancing at the waitress, he smiled, and I witnessed first-hand the impact of his killer grin on another woman.

  The food, when it arrived, was good but the drinks…they were insane, the best I’d ever had. I downed the second one as soon as I’d finished the first one. I began to float on cloud nine, so to speak. I’d never had it better—an attentive date, a great venue, awesome drinks and the sultry sound of a saxophone in a trio with bass and piano. It was nothing short of spectacular! I was entranced, enraptured and a little drunk. Stephen’s long, strong leg a couple of inches from mine was an unending source of heat. At the rate I was going I’d soon be humping it. And where did one go from there? Home to fuck our brains out… That’s it, no more drinks for me, I decided, placing my empty glass on the table.