The Boy Next Door

by Jennifer Sucevic

  “Colton Davidson Montgomery!” She pounds on my back, trying her damnedest to inflict as much damage as possible with her fists. “Put me down this instant, or I’ll scream my head off!”

  Thankfully, the club is dark, and the music is still pumping around us. Other than a few drunken glances speared in our direction, no one pays us much attention as I stride toward the door.

  Which is for the best. This would be a difficult situation to explain.

  The second I hit the paved lot, I beeline toward my BMW parked half a dozen rows away.

  “Goddamn it! You have no right to kidnap me!” Even though she continues to pound her fists against my back, she’s not inflicting any real injury. Hell, the hits I take in practice are worse than this.

  When she wiggles against my shoulder, nearly falling off, I smack her ass with the flat of my hand. “Stay still before you get hurt.”

  “Ow!” She sucks in a sharp, disbelieving breath. “You son of a bitch!”

  “Then stop fighting me. All I’m trying to do is make sure you get home safely.”

  “Ironically, you’re the one causing me pain!” There’s a beat of silence before she growls, “You do realize that you just accosted me, right?”

  Maybe.

  With one hand holding her firmly in place, I reach into the front pocket of my jeans and grab my keys before hitting the button on the fob.

  Now comes the tricky part—how to maneuver Alyssa into the vehicle without her fighting me and possibly getting hurt. I yank open the door and lower myself down until her heels scrape against the pavement. With my breath wedged in my lungs, I release her before straightening to my full height. My gaze stays locked on her. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she attempted to run—even in those heels—or sucker punched me in the face.

  A gentle breeze slides through the riotous tangle of her blond hair, blowing it around her shoulders as a wild light fills her eyes. I can’t help but think that she’s gorgeous in her towering rage. Even though it’s totally perverse, my cock stiffens to half-mast.

  The slinky silver dress clings to every slender curve. Barely does it hit mid-thigh. I’m sure if she bent over, I’d catch a glimpse of her panties.

  And she better damn well be wearing panties.

  “How dare you!” she growls. The words are low and menacing as her body shakes with barely contained fury. “You have no right to pick me up and cart me out of a club like a sack of potatoes.” Her gaze arrows to the two-story brick building across the parking lot.

  Her face is so easy to read.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I tell her. “You won’t get far.” There’s a pause as I tilt my head. “Unless you’re looking for me to lay my hands on you again.”

  She gnashes her teeth before baring them like a rabid animal. “I hate you!”

  All of the sexual tension simmering in the air between us dissipates. “I know, Lys. There’s nothing else for me to say other than I’m sorry.”

  Wetness pricks her eyes. Instead of allowing the tears to fall, they pool in her blue depths, shimmering like crystals in the darkness.

  That’s all it takes for my heart to crack wide open.

  “I don’t give a fuck about your apologies,” she snaps. “You can shove them right up your ass for all I care.” As she takes a hasty step in retreat, her heel hits a crack in the asphalt, and her eyes flare wide as she falters.

  When her arms pinwheel, I spring forward, wrapping my fingers around her shoulders in an attempt to steady her. “Are you all right?”

  “No.” Before I can ask what’s wrong, she whispers, “Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?”

  My throat closes up until it feels like I can’t breathe.

  When I remain silent, she continues, “Any at all?”

  The pain that seeps into her vivid blue depths is enough to kill me. “Yeah, I do. I wish it were possible to go back in time and change everything about the way we ended.” The truth is that I wish I hadn’t ended it at all.

  “That’s not possible. You can’t rewrite history. You can only put the past to rest and move forward. That’s exactly what I’ve done.”

  “I don’t believe you.” More like I don’t want to believe her. “I think you still want me.”

  My gaze drops to her mouth. Those pouty lips that were made for all kinds of sin. I miss kissing them. I miss them wrapped around my cock as she stared adoringly up from her knees. Even dredging up the memories makes me throb with arousal.

  It’s as if she can sense the thoughts running rampant through my head. “Don’t.”

  Her tongue darts out to smudge her lips. Everything in me tightens as I lower my face to hers. We’re so close that I can feel her warm breath drift over me. It only drives the fierce need I’ve always had for her.

  “Don’t what?” I murmur, ghosting my lips over her soft ones. It takes every ounce of self-control not to close the distance between us and take what I want.

  “Kiss me.”

  “Why not?”

  She tilts her head toward mine, almost as if angling it for better access. “Because...I don’t want it.”

  Losing the battle with myself, I nip at her lower lip before sucking the fullness into my mouth. A whimper escapes as I tug her to me until her breasts are smashed against my chest. A sultry taste that is distinctly hers explodes on my tongue. After all the time and distance that I forced between us, having her this close is like a wave crashing over me, dragging me to the bottom of the ocean. I’m drowning in the taste and feel of her, and I don’t give a damn. I don’t care if I ever make it up to the surface again.

  Even though it goes against every single impulse pounding through me, I pull away enough to say, “Are you sure about that?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alyssa

  Why is it that all rational thought falls to the wayside anytime he lays his hands on me? Colton Montgomery has been my kryptonite for as long as I can remember. It’s disheartening to realize that nothing has changed in that regard. No matter how strong I think I am, this is all it takes for me to crumble.

  I’ve kissed a handful of boys since our breakup, and none made me forget myself or feel as if I would shrivel up and die if they didn’t take my mouth.

  But that’s exactly the way it is with Colton.

  A year and a half of separation did nothing to lessen the attraction that churns within me. I want him now as much as I ever did. And I have no idea how to change it. Or kill the emotion that simmers beneath the surface.

  “Tell me to stop,” he growls against my lips. “If that’s what you want, you need to say the words.”

  My lungs fill with air as my head swirls from a potent concoction of Colton-infused alcohol. It’s dizzying. I open my mouth to tell him exactly that, but the words die a quick death on my tongue, refusing to be summoned. I need him to step away and give me a little bit of breathing room so rational thought can once again prevail. When he’s this close, corrupting every sense, sending every nerve ending into chaos, it’s impossible to think straight.

  My guess is that he won’t give me the time or distance to find my bearings and come to my senses.

  In fact, I know he won’t.

  Not unless I demand it of him.

  And...I’m unable to do that.

  After all this time apart, not only do I secretly crave his touch, I need it. With a groan, I tilt my face toward his. That’s all the signal he needs to proceed. His hands slide from my shoulders to my face, where they cup my cheeks. His thumb strokes against my lower lip before his mouth captures mine. One sweep of his tongue is all it takes for me to open. The first taste of him has fireworks exploding inside my head before sinking like a heavy stone to my core.

  One kiss, and it feels like I could self-combust from the pent-up desire churning beneath the surface.

  “You have no idea how much I missed this,” he mutters against my lips.

  Oh, but I do because I feel the same.

&
nbsp; His fingers disappear from my face, slipping over the tops of my shoulders, grazing my arms and ribcage, before settling on my ass. He cups each cheek in the palm of his hands before squeezing them as if testing the weight and feel. Electricity sizzles through me at the intimate contact. A groan bubbles up inside me, fighting to break free.

  I haven’t felt this turned on since...

  Colton.

  And that is all kinds of depressing.

  The intrinsic knowledge that this will end badly isn’t nearly enough for me to push him away. It’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. Here and gone before I can fully grasp it.

  Or act on it.

  I’m so caught up in the feel of his hands and mouth wreaking havoc on my body that I don’t realize he’s walking me backward until my spine hits the shiny metal of his BMW. The thick length of his erection digs into my belly, leaving me to gasp for breath. I remember all too well what it felt like to have Colton driving deep inside my heat. The mere thought is enough to weaken my knees. If he weren’t pinning me in place, I’d fall to the ground before melting into a puddle of goo.

  Why does something so bad have to feel so damn good?

  He nibbles at my mouth before drawing away. Without thinking, my fingers dig into his T-shirt, attempting to drag him closer. His mouth hovers over my ear, ghosting over the curve of it. Shivers scamper down my spine before he sucks the lobe into his mouth. His teeth sink into the soft flesh, and a whimper of need escapes from me.

  The fire he ignited so easily in my core bursts into flames as his lips caress their way down the column of my neck. Sucking and licking at my sensitive skin, drawing it into his mouth, and feasting on it. He singes a hot trail across my collarbone before nipping at the tops of my breasts. My chest rises and falls in rapid succession as his hands sweep along my sides before settling on the gentle swells. With a flick of his wrist, he tugs at the slinky material until one breast is bare to the warm night air that swirls around us.

  A deep groan rumbles up from his throat as his mouth fastens on my nipple. Not once do I consider the possibility that someone could exit the club and spot us at the back of the parking lot.

  How can I when Colton is attacking every single one of my senses?

  I tilt my head toward the bright star-filled sky and allow the pleasure to crash over me like a tidal wave. Once he’s licked and sucked at one tiny bud, he pulls the material up and covers me before lowering the other side and showering it with the same ardent attention.

  “I fucking love your tits.”

  His words echo in my head.

  This isn’t the first time he’s made the claim. Whenever he said it, I would laugh because my breasts are fairly non-existent. Wesley’s campus is overflowing with girls who are, well...overflowing in that department. But Colton never seemed to mind. When we were in bed together, he spent hours worshipping them. And I loved it. They might be small, but they’re incredibly sensitive and easily stimulated.

  I have no idea how much time elapses before he lifts his mouth and slides the material back into place before popping to his feet and pressing against me.

  “I’ve missed you, Lys.”

  The deep rasp of his voice as he uses the nickname leaves me melting. It always has. But especially now with his hands all over my body.

  “I’ve missed this,” he adds, his mouth descending. As he pushes into me, forcing me to flatten against the metal of the vehicle, my spine curves. Each vertebra bends under his strength. His fingers lock around my wrists before dragging them over my head and pinning them to the roof. I’m so cognizant of his thick erection digging into me. Of my breasts pressed beneath the steel of his chest. I’m overwhelmed by his masculine presence.

  More than anything, I wish I didn’t revel in the dominance, but I do.

  So much.

  Just because I can be assertive and know what I want doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy submitting and made to feel as if I’ve been rendered powerless. To have my senses eclipsed by physical strength wielded in a manner that isn’t an attack but one that makes me feel emboldened by my own sexuality. It’s nothing more than an illusion. A trick of the imagination. It requires a man to walk a fine line, and Colton knows exactly how to do it.

  And that, like everything else he does, is a major turn-on.

  As much as I hate to admit it, there were too many nights since our breakup when I laid awake in my bed, unable to find sleep, as thoughts of him crashed unbidden through my head. The way he touched me. Stroking my flesh to life and sliding deep inside my heat until there was no other choice but to shudder with orgasm. Inevitably, my fingers would slip beneath the elastic band of my panties before caressing my lower lips and circling my clit until I was gasping out his name.

  Every time I caved to the temptation, I told myself that it was because I would never feel Colton’s touch again. He was like a ghostly specter hovering over me, dredging up painful yet delicious memories, which is precisely why this feels more like a dream than anything else. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be chock-full of regrets and recriminations but tonight?

  Tonight, I’m going to blot out common sense and enjoy this experience to the fullest.

  By the time he pulls away to nip at my chin with sharp teeth, my lips feel bruised and swollen. As reluctant as I am to admit it, Jack’s kisses were nothing like this. They didn’t stir anything beneath the surface. They were a pleasant distraction I’d hoped would flourish into something more. As soon as that thought bursts into my brain, I force it away.

  Jack is sweet, kind, and nice. He’s one of the most caring and considerate people I’ve ever met. We built a solid friendship before it grew into something more. And even then, when it turned romantic, I insisted on taking my time and easing into a relationship. But we never generated this kind of...

  Combustible energy that feels like it has the potential to destroy everything in its path.

  That’s exactly how it feels when I’m with Colton. There’s no other way to describe it.

  He’s all I can see.

  All I’m able to think about.

  It’s addictive.

  It’s the rough scrape of hands sliding beneath the hem of my dress as it rides up my thighs that grounds me in the here and now. The tips of his fingers dance across my flesh, inching their way beneath the fabric. Air gets trapped in my throat when they stroke over my panties.

  The warm August air wafting over my flushed cheeks isn’t nearly enough to cool them. I’m not sure if anything can extinguish the heat that has exploded to life in my core. As he drops to a crouch in front of me, I know exactly how this scenario will play out. I also know that I’m not going to prevent it from happening. I don’t have that kind of strength. If I’m being completely honest with myself, I don’t want to stop it.

  I want him.

  And I want this.

  Tomorrow will be soon enough to deal with the ramifications of my stupidity.

  Colton’s hands inch their way upward, lifting the dress until my underwear is exposed. He leans forward, brushing a soft kiss against the cotton. His fingers hook into the elastic band on each side of my hips before dragging the fabric down my thighs, past my knees, until it’s stretched taut between my ankles. I expel a shaky breath from my lungs as anticipation coils like a spring deep in the pit of my gut.

  Actually, the excitement unfurling inside me is much lower.

  Carefully he lifts one foot, removing the material that serves as protection before repeating the movement on the other side. In silence, he stuffs the flimsy scrap into the pocket of his jeans.

  His face hovers no more than six inches from the heat of my core. Every inhale has him breathing me in before exhaling a warm puff of air against my bare flesh. A thick shudder works its way through me as his gaze stays focused straight ahead.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasps.

  My heart jackhammers a painful staccato against my ribcage. My gaze stays locked on him, watching every move, takin
g in every detail about this moment. Wanting to etch it into my memory so that I’ll be able to take it out anytime I want to revisit it.

  Time stretches between us until it becomes unbearable, and I shift restlessly beneath his hands. When he finally leans forward, I expect him to attack my aching flesh in much the same manner he assaulted my mouth a handful of minutes ago, devouring me in one hungry gulp. Instead, he buries his nose against me before inhaling deeply. It’s as if he’s trying to breathe in my very essence.

  “No matter how much pussy I attempted to lose myself in after we broke up, it was never you.”

  My breath hitches at the admittance.

  With unhurried movements, as if we’re not standing in the back of a crowded parking lot, he rubs his face against me. The slight stubble on his cheeks abrades my delicate flesh, releasing a thousand tiny shivers inside the confines of my belly.

  My spine arches as I give in to the chaos he’s created.

  Just when I don’t think I can take another moment of this sweet torture, his lips feather against me. My skin is so over-sensitized and achy. I want to scream with the impending storm that pushes its way to the surface. The first flick of his velvety softness sends me soaring, and I groan, my head rolling back as my eyes shutter so I can focus on his touch.

  He draws one plump lip between his teeth and nibbles at it before repeating the maneuver on the other side. His tongue thrusts into my throbbing heat, falling into a devastating rhythm. When I begin to spiral, he backs off, allowing his soft breath to drift over me as if attempting to cool my lust. Before I can utter a word, he circles my clit with his tongue, pushing me once again relentlessly toward orgasm.

  I’m moments away from splintering apart when he eases back for a second time. Frustration explodes inside me. I can’t take much more of his teasing. My fingers curl with the need to claw at him, to pull him against me and finish what he started. I open my mouth to protest when he lifts one heeled foot from the ground and plants it on his shoulder so that I’m spread impossibly wide. Even though the night air is warm, it cools my damp flesh, and a shudder works its way through me at the erotic image we must make.