Bad Boy Neighbor

by Maddie King

  She wants everyone to see her. She wants the boys to drool over her. Pathetic.

  “Nah. I’m about to go take a shower. Better not be any people in my damn room or I’m tossing them out.” I give him a stern look. These people are his friends. I’d hate to embarrass him but I don’t like my shit to be fucked with.

  “They aren’t,” he laughs. “Trust me, they know the fucking rules. And if they are in there, fuck it! Toss their asses out! Should teach them a lesson!”

  I step around him and push through the thick crowd, going upstairs. A few girls grab my arm over the banister but I pull away.

  I don’t want any of them. I want that firecracker across the street.

  The one who mouths off at me and doesn’t give a damn how I make her pay for it. The one who resists and makes it harder for me, just the way I like it. I like when she puts up a fight. Easy women don’t turn me on, but a feisty one will have my cock as hard as a rock in seconds.

  My room is empty as it should be and I lock the door, walking to the bathroom to start up the shower. As I stand under the stream, I grip my heavy, aching cock in hand and stroke relentlessly, imagining myself ramming in and out of her on the porch.

  I remember the sweet, sticky taste of her pussy on my tongue, how she came all over my fucking face, and I groan, feeling my cock swell up at the tip.

  I bet her mouth would feel so good around my cock. I bet her pussy wrapped around me is to fucking die for. She’s always wet. Even during the times I fingered her, she was wet and ready. Soft, tight, and fucking perfect.

  “Fuck,” I growl, pressing a heavy hand down on the wall. I jack my cock off faster and faster, squeezing my eyes shut, but then the shower curtain shoots open and I look over with a frown.

  “What the fuck!” I bark.

  The same blond-haired girl that was dancing on the middle of the dance floor appears with a grin. “Jerry told me you needed me?”

  I frown deeper. “I don’t fucking need you,” I snap. “How the fuck did you even get in here?”

  “He used a butter knife or something to unlock the door.” She shrugs. “You have really shitty doorknobs, by the way. You should get them upgraded or something.”

  I flare my nostrils, releasing my cock. Fuck it. She’s already up here and she’s staring at my junk like she wants it. Might as well make use of her.

  I grab her hand and bring her into the shower. Her clothes get all wet and her nipples get hard beneath her thin gray belly shirt. Gripping her shoulder, I force her down to her knees and bring my cock to her lips.

  “Open your mouth,” I demand.

  I shove my cock deep down her throat when she opens up, not giving a fuck if she gags. I hear her choke on it and feel her press a hand on my thighs to try and get me to ease up, but I hold her head with both hands and fuck her throat, squeezing my eyes and imagining that redhead that was just on my porch. I ease up a little and her tongue swirls around my thick head. It feels so fucking good.

  She drools all over my cock, making it wetter. “Yeah, suck my dick, Brooke,” I rasp, holding the girl’s head tighter.

  She muffles something around me but I ignore her. She’s probably complaining that I called her Brooke. I don’t give a fuck. She’s Brooke for right now.

  I thrust in full and slide my whole dick down her throat, and then I cum in a matter of seconds, squirting out my hot seed.

  “Oh, fuck,” I groan again, still stroking hard in this college girl’s mouth, getting the whole load out and making sure she swallows it all. Shit, that feels so good, but I know what will feel even better is this same hungry cock deep inside Brooke’s dripping wet, pink pussy.

  Damn that firecracker has me all wound up.

  I finally relax, pulling my hands from her head and grabbing her arm, tugging her up. “Get out,” I grumble and she blinks quickly, stepping out of the shower.

  “That’s it? You don’t want to, like, fuck me or anything?” she questions, so fucking clueless.

  My jaw ticks. I close the shower curtain in her face, hoping she gets the fucking message. When I see her opaque shadow leave, I turn to face the stream of water, washing my cock and my balls.

  I need to fuck Brooke already and get her out of my system. It’s been six years too long. I’ve wanted her ever since I saw her unpacking shit from her car the first day she moved in. How she flaunted in that short-ass dress, showing off that perfect, plump ass—hell, she was asking for it.

  I held off because I knew she was a feisty one, but I don’t think I have another year of holding off in me.

  If I fuck her then I can stop thinking about her and I can stop pretending all the other girls I fuck are her. It will happen soon but I don’t beg or chase. I’ll wait until she comes running again and hands the pussy over to me herself.

  3

  Brooke

  After my yoga class, I’m driving home. I’m a sweaty mess, but it was great. I feel much more relaxed than I did last night, but I admit that after the shower I took after leaving Xander’s house, I fell right asleep . . . just like he said.

  Three hours didn’t do me any good though.

  I could use at least ten cups of coffee right now. No joke.

  Before I pull into my driveway, I notice how much of a mess his front yard is. There are beer cans and glass bottles everywhere, paper and debris all over the grass. A tipped over keg. It is ridiculous.

  I roll my eyes as I step out of the car, going for the back door to take out my gym bag. As I walk towards my house, I hear a door creak from across the street.

  Out he walks, no shirt on, revealing his flat, hard stomach and broad chest. There are even more tattoos beneath his collarbone, a light scruff on his face, proving he needs to shave soon.

  He scuffles towards his black Mustang and wrenches the door open, bending down to pick something up inside of it. I unlock my house door as he stands tall again with a pack of cigarettes in hand. He notices me as soon as his eyes swing over, a cocky, stupid smirk tugging at his lips.

  “How did you sleep last night, firecracker?” he asks with laughter in his voice.

  I flip him off before walking into the house and shutting the door. Stepping into the kitchen, I open the freezer and take out a bottle of my strawberry and lemon infused water. As I chug a few sips down, there’s a knock on the door.

  I bet it’s him.

  No, I know it’s him. Coming to harass me, like always.

  I pull the door open and yep. It’s definitely him.

  He doesn’t wait for me to speak. Instead, he walks right past, looking around the living room as if he’s never seen it before. He does this. Walk in, acts like he owns the place. Pretends he needs something like sugar or jelly or even ice. I know for a fact he has a new fridge with an icemaker. I saw the delivery guys move it in over a month ago.

  “What the hell do you want, Xander?” I ask, leaving the door wide open and folding my arms.

  “I need some jelly. Making toast. Got any strawberry?” He flashes a lopsided smile.

  “No, I don’t. Now can you please get out? I need a nap.”

  “A nap?” He smirks over his shoulder, but continues walking towards the kitchen. The muscles in his back ripple, his shorts sitting low on his hips.

  I ignore all the raging hormones inside me and shut the door with a sigh, walking to the kitchen after him. I don’t have time for this. I’m exhausted and need to rest before my shift at Harlow’s tonight.

  He pulls my fridge open and leans down, scoping for jelly. Then he shoots his hand in, taking out a jar.

  “No jelly, huh?” he questions. “Not strawberry, but I guess blackberry works just fine.”

  “It’s not mine. It’s Shelby’s and you know she hates you,” I grumble.

  “Like you hate me?” He laughs. “I don’t even think she really hates me. I think she wants me, but she knows she can’t have me because of her uptight, rich blonde boyfriend. He must really suck in bed with the way she scowls at me. Chick n
eeds to loosen up.”

  “She scowls at you because she can’t stand you. Plain and simple. Put the jelly back and go buy your own.”

  He walks my way with the jelly anyway, ignoring me as he steps past and walks out the door. I frown when it clicks shut, shaking my head hard. I don’t have time for him right now. I need a shower and sleep. Screw him and the jelly. I’ll just buy Shelby a new jar. I’m sure she won’t notice it’s missing today anyway.

  Harlow’s is crowded tonight, though I’m not surprised. A Saturday night here is never dull.

  The music pulses through my veins. This is the only time I like it loud, drowning out all of the madness of the world as I whip up these drinks and ring in the tips.

  The guys flirt, but I never take it too far. Just far enough to make them tip me double or triple. Some college girls try to get to me too, but I don’t swing that way, unfortunately.

  I wipe off the counter in front of me when the rush has slowed down a bit and a popular song is on. I scan the dance floor, how they all grind and dance and slide all over each other. I used to love this—doing that. In college, I was a wild girl, no doubt. Shelby was my partner in crime…until she met Jake.

  Now, all she does is work as a veterinarian assistant and hang out with him. We have our one night a week where we’ll watch the latest romantic movie from Redbox or paint our toe nails on the deck out back over a few glasses of wine, but that’s about it.

  I don’t complain much. Working two jobs leaves me exhausted. I don’t have time for boyfriends or dilly-dallying. I work because I have too. Coming from nothing and growing into something isn’t easy. I worked my way through college on a full academic scholarship that I worked hard for—majoring in English—and I’m hoping to get a job as a teacher one day.

  I start to stack the glasses and then I hear a loud, deep voice.

  “There she is!” the familiar voice shouts, and I freeze, gripping one of them. “My little fucking firecracker!”

  I turn slowly, meeting smoky gray eyes. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” I groan loud enough for him to hear, looking at Xander standing right in front of me.

  He has on black jeans and a black T-shirt. He has his earrings in and his hair is messy on purpose. He looks fucking hot. If I didn’t know him and I saw him here, I wouldn’t even be ashamed of staring, but never in a million years am I going to admit that.

  “What? You aren’t happy to see me, baby?” He grips the edge of the counter, running his tongue across his bottom lip. He looks me over in my bar outfit. My blue belly shirt and dark-wash jeans that ride low on my hips, showcasing the dimples in my back and especially how full my ass actually is. I only dress this way for the tips.

  “I’m not your baby,” I retort. “Why the hell are you here?”

  “Hanging out.” He points his thumb back at a college kid sitting at a booth with a girl on his lap. She’s in skimpy clothing, her brown hair curled to perfection. On the other end of the booth is another girl. Blond hair, even skimpier clothing, her legs on full display. “Both of you on dates or something?” I say, aiming to keep my voice casual as I wipe a spot on the counter.

  He scoffs. “Does it look like I fucking date?” He runs his eyes all over me again. “Get me whatever you have cheapest on tap for all four of us. Keep them coming. You know I’ll be coming back for more.”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s what your waiter is for.”

  “I don’t want the waiter. I want you. Four beers, Firecracker.” He knuckles the counter. “Hurry up.”

  I flare my nostrils, but pull out four beer mugs. He digs into his back pocket for the wallet chained to his jeans and fishes out four twenty-dollar bills. He slides the bills across the counter after I’ve filled each glass and says, “Keep the change. You work too damn hard.”

  “Don’t need your charity,” I sigh.

  “Oh, I know. I think you need a lot more than my charity, though.”

  “Fuck off already, Xander. I have other customers.” I scowl when he flashes his dimples, chuckling loud enough for me to hear over the music. When he takes off, I can’t help but look in his direction every chance that I get.

  When the songs change, I look over. And each time, the other girl is all over him. First her arm was around his waist. Then her legs were on top of his. And now she’s on his lap, her tongue practically lodged down his throat.

  He looks over as she starts to grind on his lap, staring me right in the eyes. I narrow mine before pulling away and helping the next customer.

  I’m more than relieved when I see his younger friend or cousin or whoever he is stand up with his date and check his watch. Good. They’re leaving. Great! They should have left hours ago.

  Xander stands up, but instead of walking towards the exit like the rest of them, he’s coming in my direction.

  “Jealous?”

  I ignore his question.

  “Yeah. You are.” He smiles. “Look, invite me over for breakfast tomorrow. A nice hot Sunday meal. I’ll even bring the jelly back.”

  “And why the hell would I want you anywhere near me on my only day off?” I fold my arms tightly over my chest, frowning up at him.

  “Because you want me.”

  My face remains even, but when he flashes that annoying, sexy smile again, I feel myself clench. “I’ll be busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Sleeping.”

  He laughs. “No. You’ll be busy making me breakfast and then riding my cock.”

  I roll my eyes and pick up the empty shot glass that was left beside him. “Goodbye, Xander.”

  Before I can grab it completely, he grabs my hand. I look down at his then up at him. “Let’s make a deal. Invite me to breakfast and I’ll stop my parties for two months.”

  My eyes narrow again. “Two months? For one breakfast meal?” I scoff.

  “No. Breakfast every Sunday morning for the next two months.”

  I don’t get the game he’s playing. I pull my hand away, placing the glass in the sink. “Why?” I finally ask.

  “Why what?”

  “Do you want me to make you breakfast so badly? And why should I after the way that chick was practically smothering you?”

  His upper lip quirks up. “I think you know exactly why. And you know that chick doesn’t mean a damn thing to me.”

  “No, I don’t why. Please enlighten me, jackass.” My arms are crossed again.

  “There’s only one way I’ll be able to leave you alone and get you out of my system,” he says, leaning in closer. “I see the way you come running to me in those pajamas—the gowns that show off your sexy ass. You want me to want you. And I do. Breakfast every Sunday for the next two months will solve the problem. It’ll settle all that bickering you love to do with me. You’ll have some peace and quiet . . . in the neighborhood anyway. I can’t promise that it’ll be quiet with what I have in mind for us to do in that fancy little kitchen of yours, but it’ll be better than hearing my music at four in the morning, won’t it?”

  “I don’t want you, Xander,” I respond. “Don’t you get that?”

  “Yes you do.”

  “No, I don’t. And Shelby won’t want to eat with you. She’s my roommate. Her boyfriend comes on Sundays.”

  “Yeah, to take her out to breakfast, which leaves you all alone on Sunday mornings, doesn’t it?”

  My eyes stretch. How the hell does he know that?

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed. I’m not a fucking moron, Brooke. I watch just as much as you do. Nothing happens in my neighborhood that I don’t know about.” He leans over the counter a bit more. I don’t know how he still manages to tower over me, but he does. I have to look up at him, which makes me feel too vulnerable. “Breakfast for the next two months. No parties. Just peace, quiet, and my cock inside you every fucking Sunday.” He leans forward, his lips near my cheek. My skin buzzes, hot and prickly. “Your sexy moans in my ear and my tongue buried deep in your sweet little pussy every week. Tell me that does
n’t sound good.”

  It does. Holy shit, it does. But no. No! I can’t. I’m not about to drop my guard just to boost his ego. “Goodbye, Xander,” I say again, and this time I turn my back and walk to the employees lounge to my right.

  I don’t look back on purpose, but I do watch from the window. He stands there looking both dumbfounded and delighted, a smile still riding his lips. Then he turns and walks away.

  I sigh, sinking down on the leather couch. I’m heated—so fucking turned on. I can feel my nipples straining through my bra. I can feel the heat between my legs, radiating with desire. I can’t stand it. How he can manage to get under my skin and make me feel like this—so lustful and ready—it fucking astounds me.

  I’m too stubborn to just accept it, but I have to admit his deal would solve a lot of problems.

  It would make Shelby change her mind about wanting to move if he stops with the parties for a while, that way I won’t need to find a new roommate. It’ll make Xander realize that his parties are lame and maybe he’ll never start them up again. Maybe I can talk some sense into him about them, get him to drop the whole scheme for good.

  And for me? I’ll be getting fucked by my bad boy neighbor. By someone I literally can’t stand, yet I want so badly. It makes no sense at all to me, but I know he can provide. I know he can please me in more ways than just his tongue and his fingers.

  I want to find out just what those ways are.

  I want it so damn much it hurts.

  4

  Xander

  I’m sitting on the trunk of my Mustang, taking a break from changing the oil. She’s been good to me for a long time. Consistent as hell, even with all the bitches I have in my passenger seat. I’ve had a lot of good fucks in this car. She’s loyal and not to mention she purrs so loud for me.

  As I take a swig of my bear, I see a car coming down the road. It’s that old twink piece of shit Brooke drives. Looks like a bug and can only fit two fucking people inside it.