by A. Valentine
He stepped close. Jess wondered what was next. Paul’s fingers began to untie her knots. As the last of the rope was unwound from her wrist Jess sat there, confused.
Paul sat next to the now unbound Jess. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a spooning position on the bed.
“You are good at following instructions,” he petted her hair.
“Are we done?” Jess was confused. There had been no intercourse, no orgasm for either of them. She didn’t know what to make of an encounter that didn’t end when the guy climaxed.
“Yes, for tonight.” Paul continued to stroke her hair.
“But you didn’t come?” Jess continued.
“No. Like I said, I can have encounters where orgasm and sex are not part of it. I have found that people who do not do what I do have a hard time with that concept. I have found the best way to break that expectation is to practice it from the start.”
Paul pulled Jess into his body and held her.
“Yes Sir,” Jess replied.
She began to relax into Paul’s embrace. When he finally spoke again Jess realized she had drifted off.
“You should go back to the den. It’s late. Thank you for tonight.”
Jess got out of bed.
“Thank you Sir.” She walked back to the den and checked her phone.
Three in the morning.
Chapter Eight
The next morning Jess got up at seven to make Paul his coffee. Over breakfast Paul reminded her that Maggie’s flight got back at three and she needed to be at the airport to pick her up by 3:20.
“Maggie has another tip in a couple of months. Hope you can help out again.” Paul smiled. “I’ll send you a reading list in the meantime. You could be a lot of fun.”
Jess walked over and leaned into Paul’s neck.
“Thank you Sir,” she whispered.
Stretched By My Neighbor
By: Lucy Peters
Stretched by My Neighbor
© Lucy Peters, 2016 – All rights reserved
Published by Steamy Reads4U
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to the seller and purchase a copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Warning
This book contains graphic content intended for readers 18+ years old.
If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, please close this book now.
Chapter One
“Why are you doing this?”
Erin Dempsey rolled her hazel eyes as she listened to her boyfriend – ex-boyfriend, she reminded herself – ask the same question for the fourth time today. She did not stop or look up from her task, grabbing another sheet of bubble wrap and using it to protect a hurricane glass she had kept as a souvenir from her twenty-first birthday party in New Orleans last year. “I really don’t like to keep repeating myself, Zach,” she said.
“You sounded just like your mother, when you said that.”
Erin had to stop and snort out a laugh, shaking her head at Zach’s obvious attempt to get a rise out of her. “Nice try,” she said, and placed the wrapped glassware into the nearly full cardboard box sitting on her twin bed. “You’ve never even met my mother. Overhearing one Skype conversation doesn’t make you an authority on her, either.” Erin moved around Zach, avoiding all physical contact which was a feat unto itself in the small dormitory room. “I wish you would just accept that it’s over between us and move on.” She shot him a thin smile. “You know, like I am?”
“Moving back home isn’t the same as moving on, Erin,” Zach retorted. “Which is what you’re doing. Come on – we both know this is stupid. How many times have you told me about your mom driving you up the wall by always trying to tell you how to live your life? About how she never has time to spend with you because she’s always so focused on her job?”
“Enough,” Erin said, combing her fingers through her pixie-cut red hair in frustration. She turned to face Zach. She used to get crazy flutters in her stomach whenever she looked at him. She had been heavy into her infatuation with the Lord of the Rings movies when they first met, and thought he could pass for Elijah Wood’s twin with his big, sleepy blue eyes, dark pink lips, and all those thick, dark brown curls. She had actually been the one to pursue him, and after a month her efforts had paid off when they started dating. But that had been four years ago, when she first came to college. Once she had started to get more involved in her studies, she had found that she did not have as much time for a boyfriend as she had thought. And then there was that incident just eight months ago when she had walked in and caught Zach making out with her roommate. Dawn had since moved to another dormitory, and while Zach swore it had been a one-time thing – they had been drinking, it was the heat of the moment, and every other clichéd excuse he could give her – it had been a wake-up call for Erin.
Now she pointed at her ex. “You really need to back off and leave me alone about this, Zach. When I broke it off with you, I agreed to stay friends because we both enjoy hanging out together and doing things that have nothing to do with being boyfriend/girlfriend.” She let her arm fall back to her side. “Ever since I announced that I was moving back home, you started to pressure me about giving our relationship another chance, and I told you I don’t want that. I’m done with school, I have my degree, and I stand a better chance of finding work in Chicago if I’m living there. I’m sorry if you can’t accept that, if you have some attachment issues and can’t seem to let go, but if you want to stay friends then you are going to have to back off and stop pushing me. I also told you that I don’t know if I can trust you again after what happened with Dawn. I respect that other people have open relationships but for myself? I’m the first to admit I don’t like to share.” She returned to her packing. “Besides – we were already drifting apart. I take full responsibility for that, and realize I should have ended it before it got to the point where you started looking for attention from someone else.” She frowned, muttering under her breath. “I just thought you would have had the decency to break it off with me if you were going to start screwing around with my roommate.”
“Jesus, Erin – how many times do I have to say I’m sorry for that?” Zach demanded. “Yes, I messed up. And yes, it’s because you never seemed to have time for me anymore.” He moved in closer, reaching out to place his hand on her shoulder. Erin stiffened at the touch. He smiled, his voice softening. “I just thought maybe now that we’re both done with college, we can actually focus on making this work. We’re good friends. We were good in other ways, too. I just think we can be that way again, now that we don’t have the pressure of school to get in the way.”
“I hear what you’re saying.” With a heavy sigh, Erin reached up and pulled his hand away. “But once again, you’re not hearing me.” She looked into his eyes. “For the last four years, my life has been all about writing term papers, passing classes, and living on a campus in another part of the country from where I grew up. I need to go home, Zach. I need to go back to my roots and decompress, and then focus on where I’m going for the next phase of my life. I want to stay friends with you because I like you. I don’t want you to wait around, thinking there might be a chance of getting back together, while I’m figuring
out what I want to do. It might be years before I’m ready to be in another relationship, with you or anyone else. Right now, I just want to go home. Even if you can’t understand this, if you really do care about me then please try to accept it.”
Chapter Two
It came as no surprise to Erin that her mother could not pick her up at the airport. At this early hour, she would more than likely be getting ready to start her day at Northwestern Memorial Hospital where she headed up an academic team teaching students in residency. Erin did not expect to see her mother until much later, possibly evening, depending on when she decided to pull herself away from work. Zach had been right about that particular fact: Erin’s mom could be so focused on her work that she forgot she had a home and family.
Locating a taxi, Erin climbed into the back seat, dragging her two carry-ons with her. The rest of her belongings had been shipped back home from California. She expected they would arrive today. “Adler Planetarium,” she told the driver, and settled back for the long ride. She could have just told him to take her straight to Evanston, the suburb just north of Chicago along the lakeshore. All in good time, she thought with a smile. She had taken an early morning flight for several reasons. She knew the airports would be less crowded and traffic would be less congested. On a less practical level, she wanted to see her hometown as the sun began to rise over Lake Michigan and its golden light chased away the blue-grey shadows that clung to that familiar, beloved skyline. She had always loved going downtown to watch Chicago wake up. New York might tout itself as “the city that never sleeps,” but Chicago did, and Erin had found it endearing to see it come to life every morning.
The cab reached its destination, a cluster of buildings in the neoclassical style, and Erin took a few minutes to gaze out the window at the city across the way, rising up above the harbor. She could see Navy Pier in the distance, just to the north, jutting out into the water parallel to the planetarium. Drinking it in, Erin smiled. “Okay,” she said, “can you take me to the Pancake House up on Lincoln, now?”
“Sure thing,” the driver replied, his south-side accent pronounced. “You gonna want to go anywhere else after that?”
“Eventually,” Erin said. “But I’d rather do it after I’ve had a Dutch Baby and some coffee.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I hear ya.” Turning right onto Lake Shore Drive, he headed toward the city.
A few minutes later, Erin found herself on the corner facing the old landmark diner that stood on the corner of Clark Street across from Lincoln Park. She gave the cabbie a good tip before sliding out with her bags in tow. The smells of fried eggs, maple syrup, and coffee hit her nose as she pushed through the door leading into the restaurant. It did not surprise her to find the place already busy.
“It’s going to be a twenty minute wait,” the hostess said.
A man at the table closest to the entrance twisted around to look at Erin. He smiled. “You’re welcome to share with me,” he said.
“Oh, that’s okay,” Erin said, with a polite wave. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s all right, really,” he said. “It seems a shame that I have an entire table to myself when there’s room for one more. Besides, those bags look pretty heavy – I wouldn’t feel right if you had to stand there with them until another spot opens up.” He jerked his head, the lines at the corners of his light blue eyes creasing. “Come on,” he implored. “I promise, I won’t bite.”
Erin had to chuckle at the wide grin he gave her. “Said the man with the smile that could put a shark to shame.” Shaking her head, she decided to take him up on the generous offer. Tucking her bags out of the way of foot traffic, she sat down across from the older man and reached across the table with her right hand. “Hi. I’m Erin.”
“Hello, Erin.” Folding up his copy of the morning Trib, he put the newspaper aside and clasped her fingers. “I’m Michael.” He glanced up, catching the attention of a nearby waitress carrying a pot of coffee with a jerk of his chin. “You want some coffee?”
“Love some,” Erin said. She took a moment to unzip and shoulder out of her venerable White Sox hoodie, letting it drape around her waist. She gave Michael a quick once-over with her gaze. A handsome guy, definitely older than her – perhaps around forty – he had very Germanic features with his fair complexion, square jaw, high cheekbones, and light brown hair shaped into what she liked to refer to as one those Roman Centurion razor cuts. The only thing that threw her off was the slight Irish lilt to his otherwise raspy baritone. Of course, the Windy City did have as many Irish as it did Germans, as the annual St. Patrick’s Day tradition of dyeing the Chicago River a bright, almost neon green could attest. She could not help herself from watching Michael’s hands as he motioned to the waitress and then gestured to Erin. Gorgeous, Erin thought, admiring his long fingers and broad palms. She had always had a “thing” for hands. And blue eyes. Zach’s had been a darker shade, but Michael’s looked like arctic ice, cool and bright. The only thing that made her heart sink a little was the gold band Michael wore on his left ring finger. And married. Damn.
She thanked the waitress for the cup set in front of her, and reached for the cream and sugar. “I appreciate you offering to share,” Erin said, stirring in just enough half and half to turn the dark, steaming liquid a light golden color. “I just got in at O’Hare about an hour ago, and was determined to make this one of my stops before I headed home.”
“Oh?” Michael took a sip of his own coffee, swallowed and licked his lips. “You’re from here, originally?”
“Yes. You?”
“First generation born here in the States,” he said. “Well, for my mother’s side. She came over as a girl from Ireland. My father’s family has been here since the mid-1800s.”
“German?”
He chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”
She wrinkled her nose and held up a hand, thumb and forefinger just a few millimeters apart. “Just a little.” He laughed and she grinned. “The Irish is a little more apparent.”
“Ah, yes.” He sighed. “The accent always gives me away.” He eyed her. “Although I’d say you’ve got a bit of the Blarney in you, as well…the bright red hair and those freckles being a dead giveaway.”
She shrugged. “And the fact that I have an Irish name, right?”
“That, too. But I’ve always believed we can spot our own.”
“I guess we can.” The waitress returned with a menu for Erin but she just handed it back. “Dutch baby for me, please.” She looked at Michael. “I’ve been craving one of those for ages.”
“I know what you mean.” He clasped his hands under his chin and stroked one thumb across the reddish stubble over his upper lip. “So, what took you away from home, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“College,” she said. “I just got my Bachelor’s. I thought about going for my PhD but wanted to take a break and come back for a while before I make that decision.”
“What’s your course of study?”
“Marine Biology. I’m going to see if I can get a job either at the aquarium, or one of the zoos.”
“Well, I might put in a good word for you,” he said. He lowered his arms, elbows resting on the table, and jerked his head toward the street-facing windows. “I work over at Lincoln Park, Behavioral Husbandry and Enrichment manager.”
Erin’s eyebrows snapped upward at this information. “Get out of here! Well, I guess the luck of the Irish is with me today, in more ways than one. Not only did I meet someone generous enough to share his table with me, it turns out we’re in a similar line of work.”
“Kismet,” Michael said, winking as he saluted her with his cup.
Their food arrived. Erin never pretended to be a dainty eater – she had a healthy appetite and dove right into anything put in front of her. The Dutch baby didn’t stand a chance. Erin pounced on that thick, pancake-on-steroids treat with unabashed gusto. She moaned around the first mouthful, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Oh
, yeah. That’s the stuff.”
“Tastes like home?” Michael asked, watching her with amusement.
She nodded. “You know it.”
Michael had ordered the standard eggs, sausage, toast, and a short stack on the side. They continued to talk as they ate, mostly about their shared interest in zoology. Michael, it turned out, worked primarily with the otters, wolves, and other animals indigenous to North America on exhibit. “I know you’ve probably got a lot of catching up to do, now that you’re home,” he said, “but maybe once you have some free time, you could think about coming to the zoo and letting me show you around.”
“I would love that,” Erin said. She washed down the last bite of breakfast with her second cup of coffee. The waitress came by and placed their tickets on the table. Erin reached for hers but Michael got there first, snagging both with one of those big hands. Erin looked at him, surprised. “What are you doing?”
He smiled at her, smug. “Call it a homecoming present,” he said. He slid out of his seat and stood up, and Erin got a good look at him for the first time. Tall and lean, his brown Henley stretched tight across his broad chest, faded jeans fitting him tight in all the right places...especially that very full place right in front… He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and threw down a few bills for the tip. “I’ve got to run. It was great meeting you, and a genuine pleasure being able to talk to someone who understands my passion for preserving the world’s endangered species.”
“Well, considering what we’re doing to the planet, we’re all going to wind up as endangered.” Erin smiled up at him. “And I’ve never been religious but according to the Bible, Man was created to take care of the animals who were put here, first.” She shrugged. “We kind of dropped the ball on that one, but there’s still time to recover so I’m determined to do my part to make sure we don’t screw things up permanently.”
