by Gina Kincade
7:40 PM Sexy Neighbor: I keep thinking about how fucking sexy you looked in your underwear. Next time I want to remove those sexy panties with my teeth.
8:00 PM Sexy Neighbor: Where are you? I just knocked on your door and no answer.
An emoji? A smile curved her lips. Somehow, Kate hadn’t thought him the emoji type. She read on.
8:30 PM Sexy Neighbor: Why aren’t you answering? Did I do something to upset you?
9:30 PM Sexy Neighbor: What if it wasn’t me but you’re stuck or hurt somewhere? If you are alive and well, at least give me the courtesy of letting me know...pissed or not!!
Kate lifted a brow. He sounded a bit upset. Whether it was at her supposed demise or the fact that she hadn’t returned any of his text messages...she couldn’t be sure. To be fair, he was the one who’d left without so much as a note or kiss goodbye. And, it had taken him three days to make contact with her.
10:03 PM Kate: Yes, I’m alive. I’m in the ER.
She pressed the send button and slipped the phone in her pocket of her scrubs. Just as she was about to head toward the staff bathroom her phone buzzed once more. Pulling it out, she opened the text icon on her way to use the restroom. If she didn’t pee soon, her bladder was going to burst.
10:04 PM Sexy Neighbor: Oh My God! I’ll be right there! What happened? Are you ok? Can you talk?
Kate frowned. He knew she worked here. Why was he freaking out? Then she remembered his parents and how they’d died. Empathy welled deep within her.
10:05 PM Kate: Slow down, there, Cowboy. I work here. Remember? I’m not hurt. No need to call in the Calvary for a rescue.
Without waiting for a reply, Kate yanked on the handle of the bathroom only to find it locked. “Damn,” she muttered. “Why is someone always in here when I have to pee? All I hear is nurses complaining about how we never have time to pee!” she said to the empty break room, hopping from foot to foot. If she didn’t relieve the pressure soon—
The door opened and Jonathon came out. “Dude! Thank God! I’ve had to pee for hours,” she exclaimed and without another word slammed the door on his surprised expression and locked it.
A sigh left her as she emptied her over full bladder, the pocket of her scrubs vibrated a couple of times. She ignored the notifications and washed her hands. Food first, then she’d check her phone. A girl had to have priorities. Heating up the last of her spaghetti leftovers in the microwave, she got a fresh cup of coffee and sat down. Only then did she allow herself to glance once more at her phone.
10:07 PM Sexy Neighbor: ?
A question mark? What was that supposed to mean? Curious, she replied.
10:10 PM Kate: What’s the question?
10:10 PM Sexy Neighbor: It’s several actually. First, you never answered my original question. Second, when do you get off?
Puzzled, Kate scrolled up to see what his original question had been. I’ve got to know... What are you wearing... She smiled. No reason to make this too easy for him.
10:11 PM Kate: Scrubs.
Satisfied, she set her phone down with a smirk then began shoveling pasta into her mouth at breakneck speed. She was the only trauma nurse on shift tonight and she still had to re-stock all of the supplies used by the last patient.
10:12 PM Sexy Neighbor: Cute, real cute, nurse. What’s under your scrubs? Maybe that dicey little red number I saw in your clean laundry basket on my way out the door the other morning? Or the hot pink panties with bright yellow bows? Your lingerie basket has been driving me crazy ever since I walked by it. I was half tempted to stuff a pair of your mouth watering panties in my suit jacket. Put a man out of his misery, would ya?
Kate stared, mouth open, half eaten spaghetti falling onto her plate. He’d rummaged through her clean laundry basket she’d had on the lounge chair next to her bed? She was half fascinated, half creeped out. He’d wanted to snatch a pair of her underwear? Laughing out loud, a noodle tried to go down the wrong pipe and she began to cough. She gulped down a few swigs of water and cleared her throat. Under control once more, she responded.
10:15 PM Kate: That, my dear sir, would make you the Panty Snatching Neighbor. Much much worse than a nosey neighbor with binoculars. Don’t ya think?
She hit send and giggled. The idea was ludicrous and incredibly arousing. He was a stuffy psychiatrist, rigidly stuck in his ways. That much about him, Kate knew without a doubt. And he’d almost stolen a pair of her underwear? When he’d been over for dinner the other night, she hadn’t missed how meticulous he’d been when he’d loaded the dishwasher, even going so far as to rearrange the dirty dishes she’d already placed in the machine.
An idea occurred to her. Something absolutely outrageous. Should she do it? Well, he wanted to know... She glanced down at her watch. There was enough time. Don’t overthink it, just do it. Like the commercial. Kate smirked. “I don’t think they had this in mind when they came up with that slogan,” she muttered.
Jumping up from her chair, she ran into the bathroom, stripped off her scrub top, released her hair from her ponytail, fluffed the strands into a tousled sexy look and took a selfie in the mirror. She glanced down at the picture on the screen critically. A seductive smile curved her unpainted lips and her large breasts were barely contained in the lavender lace Chantilly demi bra. Before she could talk herself out of it, she sent the photo to Grant. By the time her scrub top was back in place and she had her hair contained in the simple black elastic holder, she was second-guessing her actions.
Have you gone insane? What if he posted that picture on social media somewhere? What if he thought you were some kind of slut who sent pics like that to men all the time?
The recriminations continued to barrage her as she washed her dishes and put them away in her lunch box. Several minutes had gone by since she’d sent the text with no reply. “That’s it,” she said aloud to the empty room. “He thinks I’m a slut now.”
Just as she grasped the handle to the break room door her phone buzzed. Heart pounding, she was half afraid to look down at the screen. Gathering her courage, she pushed the message icon.
10:32 PM Sexy Neighbor: When do you get home?
She raised a brow and typed a reply.
10:32 PM Kate: BTWN 730 and 8 am. Why?
10:33 PM Sexy Neighbor: Because if your panties match THAT bra... they’re coming off—Wait IN THE MORNING???
10:34 PM Kate: Yesssss... Night shifter, remember?
10:35 PM Sexy Neighbor: Damn it! I have clients to see in the morning. We definitely need to talk about your schedule.
10:35 PM Kate: Okay, whatever. I have to get back to work now. I have lives to save and addicts who want their refreshments and narcotics.
10:37 PM Sexy Neighbor: When are you off next?
10:38 PM Kate: Saturday. But be warned. I’ll be coming off a 48 hour stretch and I am sleeping my day away. So don’t plan on anything before 3pm. I don’t function before that time of day. OK?
10:41 PM Sexy Neighbor: Deal. Your night belongs to me. Wear something sexy and be prepared to be dazzled.
Kate smiled and replaced her phone in her pocket. So he plans to dazzle me, huh? She had just the thing to turn the dazzling on the dazzlerer.
Chapter Ten
Grant sat across from Kate in Café Monarch’s dining room. This was one of his favorite restaurants in Scottsdale. They sat outside on the cobbled stone patio with the dusk painting the desert sky all shades of pink, orange, and purple. The candlelit covered surroundings were a perfect complement to the wrought iron chairs and lush greenery that surrounded them. His heart pounded and the crowd of people encroached upon his senses, crushing him. He took more than a few steadying breaths, eyelids closed for several seconds.
Kate’s warm hand covered his on the white linen tablecloth. “You okay?” she asked, concern in her voice. “Because if this is too much, we can go.”
He opened his eyes and his gaze locked on her soft brown one. A funny thing happened. His world seemed to tilt on
its axis for a fraction of a second before righting itself. His heart rate slowed to normal, the crowds receded from his periphery, and the voice was silent in his head. Turning his palm up, he laced his fingers with her long, slender ones and gave a gentle squeeze.
“Yes.” He exhaled. “For the first time, I think I am.”
He’d meant what he’d said, he realized. With a cool mask of façade covering the secrets of his lost humanity, he’d tell people he was fine when he really wasn’t. Not this time. When he was with Kate he felt like anything was possible. Like tonight, here in this crowded restaurant. There was no soul crushing sense of impending doom deeply rooted in fear.
Damn it, if he wasn’t half in love with her already. When he’d thought back to the other night when he’d been partially out of his mind with worry because he hadn’t heard from her after texting her for hours then when she’d finally responded and said she’d been in the ER... He’d had his keys in hand and had taken the stairs two at a time to get to his truck and be with her. The worst possible images had wrought his mind and spun out of frenzied control. Then he’d seen her message about being at work and he’d never been so fucking relieved in his life. Of course, he’d felt like a dumb asshole for going off the deep end, but Kate didn’t need to know about that. All he knew was that he’d had an overwhelming sense to protect her and keep her from harm.
He stroked her hand, playing with her fingers. Oddly strong, yet delicate fingers that he remembered roaming his body freely. His cock instantly sprang to attention. This was their third date and he’d yet to have the opportunity to be inside her again. Unfortunately, because of their opposite day/night work schedules, all he’d had to keep his bed warm was the photo she’d sent him in that lacy excuse for a bra. Lavender was now his new favorite color.
“Grant?” Kate asked, worry etching her features and filling her voice.
“No. I am okay. Really,” he said and smiled. Adjusting himself discreetly to relieve some of the pressure building in his trousers, he took a sip of his whisky. “Why don’t you tell me how your shift was last night?”
As Kate regaled him with tales of the ER, he watched her, memorizing every detail. The candor in her voice, how her expressions changed from serious to amused to mock horror in a matter of seconds as she described the different patients coming and going and their interactions with the medical staff. How her dark brown eyes shone with humor, the curve of her jaw, the small freckle on the top of her left breast close to where her cleavage came together. He knew from the picture she’d sent that it would be another demi bra pushing that particular freckle into his line of sight from under her dark green sequined baby doll blouse. And all he could think about was how he was going to lick his way down, starting with special attention on that one, frustrating lonely freckle.
Ya, he was so screwed.
“Wait,” he said catching a phrase that struck absolute horror within him. “What?”
“A bunch of my friends and I are going base-jumping from the Burro Creek Bridge off of Highway 93 next month. Want to come with us?”
“No fucking way,” he said a bit too loudly then lowered his voice. “Kate. You can’t be serious. That’s too God damn dangerous.”
A frown marred her perfect features. She set her wine glass down and leaned forward. “Of course I’m serious. Base-jumping is a very serious sport. I can assure you that all safety precautions are taken. The people I’m going with are professionals, Grant. Not amateurs. And I need not remind you that I don’t need your permission to go. Just because we slept together one time, doesn’t mean you control me.” Her tone was angry, her dark brown eyes hard. “My parents tried to control me for years, attempting to mold me into what they wanted me to be. I don’t do controlling. Not for you, not for anyone.”
Grant tried to contain the panic rising within his chest. The thought of her jumping off a bridge a few hundred feet off the ground tethered to nothing but a fucking string terrified him, but he had to get a grip on his rising horror. He didn’t want to risk losing her over his irrational fears.
He took a long, slow swallow of his whiskey and allowed the amber liquid to burn his throat and soothe his frayed nerves. There had to be a way to convince her not to go, but he decided now wasn’t the time to fight that particular battle. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry. I’m just a bit freaked out by what could happen. And I care about you too much to lose you.”
Kate’s features softened. “Ah, Grant. You can’t obsess over the negative aspects of what might never happen. You should come,” she encouraged with a smile. “It might help you get over some of your fears about your parent’s death.”
“No way in hell would you ever catch me jumping off anything,” he said emphatically.
Kate laughed. “Well, it isn’t for everyone,” she agreed.
He placed his hand on her knee just under the hem of her short black skirt. “There are other things I’d like to do with you,” he said, voice low and husky. He traced small circles on her inner thigh. “To you.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and her knees opened a bit wider, allowing him greater access. Her eyes darkened in challenge. “Oh?”
“We can stay for dessert, or.” His hand slid higher, fingering the edge of lace that barred him from what he really wanted to taste.
Their waiter walked by and Kate grabbed his arm, halting him. “Check, please.”
“Sure thing, miss,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Grant laughed. He waited until their server was out of earshot. “Eager? Good, because I’m tired to jerking off to that photo you sent me the other night.”
Kate’s eyes widened, then a slow, pleased smile spread her pouty mouth. “Well, as long as we are confessing our dirty little secrets,” she said palming his stiff bulge in his pants. “My vibrator has been working overtime, and it’s a very pale substitute,” she said, giving his crotch a light, erotic squeeze.
The car ride home was fraught with sexual tension pooling right to his groin. His teeth clenched and gut tight, it was all he could do to not lose his shit while Kate’s fingernails grazed his inner thigh to his cock and back again until he was so hard he thought his zipper would bust through the seams. It didn’t matter that there was a layer of clothing between her touch and the bulge that strained for her heated impatient caresses.
But Grant needed more. He needed to know how he affected her. Was she as hot for him as he was for her? His glance latched on the show of skin between her knees and the hem of her skirt that had ridden up when he’d helped her into his lifted pickup truck. Fingers itching to stroke her, but unable to safely reach between her legs over the console without causing them to crash on the 202 Loop headed back to their condos, he gripped the steering wheel tighter.
“Hike up your skirt, baby, and touch yourself,” he ordered, his control in tatters, but he wanted to see—no, he amended, needed to see.
“Grant?” she asked.
“Now,” he demanded. “I want to know if that tight little pussy of yours is wet and ready for me. Show me, Kate, how much you need me too.”
A wicked smile curved those full plump lips as she leaned back in the seat, dragged her skirt around her hips, pulled her panties down around her ankles, and dipped her fingers inside her pussy. A soft moan escaped her parted mouth as she stroked herself.
“Tell me what you need,” he growled, breathing ragged. He positioned the rearview mirror in order to see her slow, sure strokes, wishing his cock was between those creamy thighs right this minute.
With her free hand she freed his erection. Gripping his shaft, she pumped root to tip while dipping one finger inside her slick heat, thrusting inside herself in unison with her hand on his cock. “This, she said on a breathy groan.” Her breath hitched. “I need this soooo bad it hurts. Drive faster,” she pleaded.
“Baby, I’m already ahead of you,” he said with a strained chuckle. “I get pulled over, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.”
Kate slipped two fingers inside and her thumb circled her clit, moving with measured strokes. Her wanton exploration of her own pussy turned Grant on like no one before this woman came into his life. In the tilted rearview mirror, she watched him watching her. There was no shame, no shyness, just a wicked gleam as if she knew exactly how she affected him. All too soon, her strokes became more frenzied. Her hips bucked off the seat all the while she continued to squeeze and tug on his hard length.
“Christ, Kate,” he said, voice thick with need. “You’re going to make me cream my slacks.”
Just then, he felt her body stiffen as she came, crying out his name in the process. Spent, her shoulders slumped back on the leather seat, thighs still spread wide and her pussy glistening with her sweet juices.
“What do you need?” she asked between gasps.
Grant shook his head, unable to speak. He remembered how she’d tasted. Fuck, the memory of sampling all she had to offer had popped into his head at the most inopportune times all fucking week. It had taken every inch of will power to concentrate on his clients when they’d been telling him about their triumphs and setbacks during their hour-long sessions. All he wanted to do was bury his head between her thighs and lick her cream until she screamed his name over and over. To him there was no better reward.
As if reading his mind, Kate dipped her finger between her wet folds and placed it to his lips. Greedily, he lapped it up, nipping her finger in the process.
“Now let’s see what we can do to make you a bit more comfortable,” she said.
With one hand she fisted his length, their skin gliding over each other. His cock wept with sweet relief at her touch, knowing that soon there’d be a respite from its pained state of arousal. Her fingers moved quickly, instinctively testing, watching him intently to see what he liked.
And oh, man. I like very, very much.
A delicious pressure built and his balls tightened. “Jesus, Kate.” He growled. “I’m so fucking close. Don’t stop.”
