The Boy Next Door

by Stevie J. Cole

“So much so, I’ve joined the nunnery.”

  “Oh, come on.” He reaches for my arm, but I move away from him. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”

  He’s such an arrogant creep. “Don’t bet on it.” I yank the door open, but he places his hand over mine, closing it.

  “I’ll be around to pick you up tonight at seven.” His eyes lock with mine in a challenge.

  I’m not going with him. Frowning, I place my hand on my stomach and bend at the waist a little. “Oh, looks like I’m sick. I won’t be able to make it.” I slap his hand away from the door and open it again, this time stepping in and slamming it closed behind me.

  Several of the girls are in the living room and they look up at my abrupt entrance. “Everything okay?” Jessie asks.

  “Yeah. Fine,” I grumble.

  I glance through the window, watching Winston step off the porch. She follows my gaze. “Winston, huh?”

  “Yep. Lucky me, he won the auction.”

  “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. He’s awful.”

  “Yeah.” I head to my room, and shoot Winston a message on Instagram offering to refund his money. There is no way in hell I’m going through with this.

  * * *

  I’m reviewing my biology notes when Lindsey’s picture flashes on my phone. I answer it, immediately placing the call on speaker. “Hey, Linds.”

  “Soooo....”

  “So?” I highlight the entire first paragraph about meiosis.

  “Did you bang Evan? Does he have a huge dick? And most importantly, did he make you come, because if he didn’t, well...”

  I drop the highlighter and scramble to take the phone off speaker, terrified someone in the hall may hear. “Oh, my god,” I say with a hiss. “You’re so vulgar!”

  “Ah, still a prude, I see.” She laughs. “No boom-boom for you then?”

  “Lindsey, I swear.”

  “So, virginity auction it is then?”

  I glance at my notes again. “I’m studying, so if you’re just calling to pry into my sex life then I’ll just—”

  “Aw, you did it!” she says, her voice hitting an octave I’m certain only dogs should be able to hear. “My baby sister’s been deflowered. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Proud?”

  “Yes, you and Evan so have it bad for each other.” She swoons. “This is just like the Princess Bride.”

  “Can you please explain to me how in the hell my sleeping with Evan has anything to do with Princess Buttercup?”

  “Because he’s your farm boy, your ‘As you wish.’” She giggles like a fourteen-year-old.

  “Wow! I can’t with you today.”

  “I feel like we should have a party.”

  “No!” I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “Look, I’m glad I made you proud—I think—but I really have to study.”

  “Yeah you do, you’re going to need all the free time you can get to hunch the boy next door.”

  I laugh. “Bye, Lindsey.”

  “Bye.”

  I hang up and my phone buzzes with a message.

  Winston: I hate to be a dick, but if I don’t get what I’m owed, I’ll report your sorority to the dean. Surely prostitution is frowned upon by the university. It would be a shame for you girls to get expelled. One date, Emma. That’s all. Tomorrow night.

  Shit.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Evan

  Professor Mullens tosses an extra buck on the counter, and I thank him as I grab it and shove it in my pocket. Even though the bar is packed tonight and I should be on my toes, I’m distracted, constantly checking the time on my phone, because tonight’s Emma’s night off, and I know that she’s waiting for me in my bed. Thoughts of her spread legs, her wet pussy, her lips on my cock run through my head on a loop, which makes it hard to focus on anything but the way my dick is pressing against my zipper.

  “Dude,” Joe, one of the bartenders, slaps me on the back, pointing across the bar at a gagging girl. “You gave that girl a shot of Jager instead of Fireball.” He laughs before slapping my back again. “Fucking amazing!”

  “Sorry, I’m out of it, man.”

  “Yeah, I can tell.” He grabs a glass from the counter and pours some whiskey in it, and I try to distract myself by straightening the bar caddy.

  When I glance up, Winston’s crew is staggering toward the bar. They’re minus Winston, which is probably for the best. Any encounter I have with him won’t end well, not after the message he sent me telling me to go fuck myself when I told him Emma wasn’t going anywhere with him.

  “Here come the dick weeds,” Joe says. “The wet T-shirt contest over at Willy Mack’s must be over.”

  * * *

  The night drags on. I mix drink after drink, wondering why in the hell it’s taking so long for last call to get here. About thirty minutes before closing, I make my way to the bathroom to take a piss. I walk in and swear under my breath. Both the urinals have overflowed and someone took a shit in one of them, so I go into a stall.

  While I’m zipping my fly, the door creaks open and one of the frat daddies laughs. “Yeah man, Winston has some—awww, gross, someone took a shit in the urinal.”

  “Probably Evan.” One of them chuckles. What dickfucks.

  “Like I was saying, Winston may seem like a dumbass, but for him to rig that auction like that, he’s got some IT skills.”

  “Dude, if I’d known he could rig that, I would have bid on CeeCee.”

  “Right?”

  I hear the distinct clap of a high five, followed by them pissing in the toilets. After they leave, I wash my hands, exit while seething. Of course that shit head would rig an auction to make sure he got Emma. He knew there was no way in hell she’d give him the time of day otherwise. God, I’m going to kill him.

  * * *

  It’s completely dark when I open the door to my apartment. “Em?” I call out, tossing my keys on the kitchen counter on my way to the bedroom.

  My dick lengthens at the sight of Emma on the bed in nothing but an In This Moment T-shirt that shows most of her tits. Nothing else. The way her dark hair falls over her shoulders is reminiscent of a spread from a Playboy—but ten times better because she’s mine.

  “Damn.” It’s all I can manage.

  I’m out of my shirt and jeans by the time I reach the bed. She shoves me down, grabs the waist of my boxers, and tears them off. Grabbing my cock, she slowly licks over the tip.

  I let her take me in her mouth for a second, then fist her hair, pulling her face to mine. “As good as this feels, I need to be inside you,” I say as I roll over and pin her underneath me.

  I place my cock against her opening. Her nails dig into my back. “Evan. A condom.”

  I quickly grab one from the nightstand and tear it open, placing it in her hand.

  She looks at me, and bites at her lip.

  “Put it on.”

  She timidly places it over my head and rolls it down. The second she’s done, I’m right back between her legs. “Is this what you want, Emma?” I whisper, barely slipping the tip inside.

  She moans.

  “Tell me you want it.” I don’t budge, just hold myself an inch inside of her.

  “Evan...” My name is laced in a plea and it makes my dick grow harder.

  I push in a little more, wanting to thrust into her, but loving the wait. “What do you want, Emma?”

  “For you to fuck me.”

  With a smile, I slam into her, groaning at how perfect she fits around me.

  In and out. Slow and hard. I fuck her like a savage, the sheets coming lose and falling to the floor. I fuck her until sweat drips down my brow and my muscles burn, until we’re both coming and she’s begging for me to stop.

  And then I lie next to her, pulling her onto my chest, absolutel
y certain she’s the woman I’ll spend the rest of my life with.

  “Evan,” she shifts, looking up at me.

  “Huh?”

  “What are we going to do about that auction?”

  * * *

  I’ve spent all morning driving, trying to come up with a solution to this bullshit. I’ve nearly run my tank to empty, and the only logical thing I’ve thought of is possibly letting the air out of the prick’s tires.

  I park my motorcycle at the side of a strip mall gas station and climb off, hanging my helmet on the handle bar. I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and swipe my card through the machine.

  “They called to repossess it?”

  My brow furrows. I swear that sounds like Winston.

  “That car is the last bit of dignity I have, Mother!” I turn around and find Winston standing by the Happy Mouse Party House dumpster, dressed in a mouse suit with the massive cartoon head placed on the roof of his shiny BMW. I lean against the pump, smug that I’ve found Winston working as an entertainer at a kids’ fun zone. It would be a shame if someone tarnished the one thing that matters most to him—that rich prick image he wears like a crown.

  It really would. God, I’d love to blackmail his ass with—A smug grin works over my lips as I pull my phone from my pocket and snap a few pictures of Winston in his Happy Mouse suit.

  “It’s crap!” he shouts. “I’m working in this shithole, dressed as a stupid mouse. Do you know what it smells like inside that mouse head?” He pauses. “Bankrupt? Dad declared bankruptcy? That’s just great.” With a huff, he crams his phone in his pocket then grabs the mouse head from his car, shoves it over his head, and storms through the back entrance of the building.

  I can’t help but laugh when the door shuts behind him with a bang. Not that I would wish misfortune on anyone, but Winston?

  I stare down at the photo on my screen before I type out a quick text to Corey, asking if he could print this up in the university paper next week.

  After I fill my tank, I shove my helmet over my head and crank my bike with a smile. Looks like Winston and I are about to have a little heart to heart.

  * * *

  Some shitty music thumps from the frat house. All those guys do is party. I have no idea how any of them are passing their classes, I think as I park my bike right beside Winston’s precious BMW.

  I lean against the side of his car, placing my hands on the freshly waxed paint. That dipshit should be trotting out of the frat house any second, all freshened up for a night on the prowl.

  The music grows louder when the back door opens and Winston steps out in a cardigan and slacks. He’s staring at his phone as he crosses the driveway. The taillights to his car blink. The alarm chirps when he hits the key fob. Right when he gets to the trunk, he glances up and I smirk. “Hey buddy, going somewhere?” I push off from the car and take a step toward him.

  “I guess you’re pissed I’m taking Emma out?” A smug smile crosses his face.

  “You’re not taking her out.”

  “Whatever, brah.” He laughs and places his hand on my shoulder to shove me aside, but I stand firm.

  “You’re right, I bet that mouse uniform does smell awful.” I smile, and he freezes, the color slowly draining from his face. I pull my phone from my pocket, flashing the picture of him in his mouse suit.

  His jaw ticks. “Out of my way, Drake.” He shoves past me and opens the door to his car.

  “You go out with my girl, Winston, you breathe one word about that auction to anyone that could get those girls in trouble, and I will ruin your stupid image. Corey already said he’d love to slap that picture of you in that damn mouse suit all over the front page of the university paper.”

  “Man,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Don’t do that.”

  “Then leave my girl alone.”

  “Fine.” He slams his door and I climb on my bike, rev the engine, and peel out of the drive.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Emma

  I’m standing in front of Bon Bon Appetite, staring at the wrought iron sign hung over the door with my stomach in knots. On the drive to the restaurant, I imagined every possible scenario of how this would play out, none of them good.

  I stare at the door, willing my legs to carry me through, but they don’t budge. It’s just dinner. Just dinner. There’s no way I’m sleeping with him. And really, this date should be enough to keep him from reporting us to the dean. After all, what could he possibly say? “Yes, she went on the date with me, but I also paid to have sex with her.” No way, then he’d be in hot water too. This is no big deal, so why am I so nervous? Because it’s Winston, that’s why. He’s arrogant and an asshole, and by the end of the night I’m sure I’ll have slapped his hand away from my thigh at least ten times.

  I glance down at my jeans and sweater. I wore the least formfitting thing I could find. No makeup. With a deep breath, I pull the door open and step in. The aroma of freshly baked bread hangs in the air, and the tension in my shoulders eases for a moment while I wait for the hostess.

  She rounds the corner with a stack of menus. “How many?” she asks.

  “Um, I’m meeting someone here. Winston Carlson.”

  With a nod, she checks the list on her stand, then furrows her brow. “He’s not here yet, but I can show you to a table.”

  “Thanks.”

  I can only hope he doesn’t show, but I know better than that. He’s probably just tying one on before he leaves the frat house.

  The hostess places the menus on the white table cloth and tells me to enjoy my evening. She has no idea...

  With a sigh, I check my watch and settle back in the seat to wait on Winston. Just as I bend down to reach for my purse, the chair across from me scratches over the floor. Great! Taking a breath, I glance up, and smile when I see Evan in his white T-shirt and ripped jeans.

  “Why in the world is a pretty girl like you sitting all alone?” He takes a seat. I know I’m blushing, and I have a love-hate relationship with how easily he can affect me. “So lover-boy was a no show?” He tsks. “Such a shame.” There is an abundance of amusement in his voice.

  I lift a brow. “Evan Michael Drake, what did you do?”

  “Me?” He holds his hands up. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Uh-huh. I don’t believe you.”

  “Maybe he just realized there was no point when you already belong to me.”

  I fight a smile. “So you think I belong to you,” I tease.

  “Nah, I know it. And you know it. If you really think about it, you’ve belonged to me for over a decade now.”

  And that’s true. Our hearts have always belonged to one another. “So certain.”

  Evan pops open the menu. “I’m so certain that I’m ready to get you out of that damn sweater.”

  “For the love...”

  He glances over the top of the menu with a smirk. “Look, it leaves a lot to the imagination, and that poses a problem because I know what you look like naked, and now I’m sitting in a nice restaurant with a hard-on.”

  I roll my eyes. “Wow.”

  “Just open your menu, woman, and let’s eat so I can take you home and fuck you the way a gentleman should.”

  * * *

  After dinner, Evan talked me into driving, and now I know why. We made it exactly one block from the restaurant before his hand was down my pants.

  The light turns green and his finger sinks deeper. “Evan, you’ve gotta stop. I can’t drive.”

  “So.” His lips are on my neck, his teeth nipping at my ear. “Pull over. I can’t wait ten more minutes.”

  Without hesitation, I put my blinker on and pull over into a nearly deserted student lot. As soon as the car is in park, Evan digs a condom from his wallet, then lowers the back of his seat and drags me across the console
to straddle him. His hands roam over my body, pulling and tugging at my sweater while I work the waist of his jeans over his hips.

  The car is too small, and when he yanks my sweater over my head his hands hit the roof. I practically fall into the driver’s seat when I awkwardly shimmy my legs out of my jeans and panties, then toss them to the backseat. He opens the condom and rolls it down his shaft. When I straddle him again, Evan smacks my ass. He lines himself up with me, and then I’m sinking down over him. Gasping at the sudden relief. He fists my hair, kissing me hard, relentless while I ride him. My palms press against the roof as he meets me thrust for thrust, his hands holding my hips in a bruising grip.

  Our staggered breaths fog the windows. Everything builds until I’m not sure where he ends and I begin, that bliss threatening to crackle through me at any moment. He fists my hair, pulling my lips to his in a savage kiss.

  “Em,” he groans, tightening his hold in my hair. He fucks me harder from underneath. Heat buzzes through me like an electric current, lighting every last inch of my skin in that hazy euphoria. Evan thrusts faster. His jaw tightens and then he goes so deep, stilling as he comes.

  “I can’t possibly get enough of you,” he says before gently kissing my lips. “There’s no way I can ever get enough.”

  Epilogue

  Evan

  The summer heat clings to me like cellophane as I jog across Emma’s front lawn. We came home from college for summer break, and, man, am I regretting that. There is no privacy here. At all. On the plus side, it is fun finding random places to sneak in quickies.

  I stop in front of the azalea bushes, grab a fistful of pea gravel, and look up at Emma’s bedroom window with a smile before I toss the first pebble at the glass. This is what I used to do in high school when we’d sneak out. She’ll have to appreciate that.

  Her room is still dark, so I toss another pebble. That one makes a loud ping, and the light to her room flips on. Seconds later, her window creaks open and she pokes her head out, her dark hair falling over one side of her face. “You know, phones work.”

  “I thought girls liked this romance shit?”

  She laughs. “God, you are a gem.”