Five Alarm Neighbor

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  Her nipples ached. Her pussy throbbed. She'd never come from a kiss before, but she was so damned close. So close...

  "No,” she groaned as she ripped her mouth away from his, which nearly killed her. “No."

  He panted against her cheek but didn't release her. His hands flexed on her ass, making her whimper.

  "Steve. No."

  "Yes."

  "Erin.” Saying that woman's name speared guilt through her, made her feel sick. If it weren't for Erin...

  After a few breath-stopping moments, he let go of her. She thanked God for the counter behind her, which prevented her traitorous knees from giving way.

  Then the man had the audacity to laugh.

  "You're an asshole,” she growled, still afraid to move in case her legs had actually turned to jelly.

  "You want me to call her up?” he asked when his fit slowed. “Tell her to come on over? Do you only get off through voyeurism?"

  "Fuck you."

  "That's more like it.” He reached for her, but she ducked under his arm and scooted around the island in the center of the kitchen.

  "Don't."

  "If you only meant that, Gracie dear, I'd be out the door before you could blink. But I know what you want."

  His eyes glittered dangerously, and she shivered. The bastard was right. He did know what she wanted, but that didn't mean she'd take it, regardless of the consequences.

  "You're engaged! It's wrong.” Who she was trying to convince, she wasn't sure. But she would not have sex, no matter how great it might be, with a man who was taken. That was a line she'd never allow herself to cross.

  * * * *

  Steve took a big mental step back. Shit. No wonder she looked like she was going to cut off his balls. Even after that hot afternoon, she'd never come on to him. He'd known she was a woman of morals, and he appreciated that about her. He just hoped it didn't put a damper on the getting his rocks off with her thing. He needed to find out if she was someone he could have a little fun with, or if she didn't do one—or a few—night stands.

  "I thought you knew."

  "Knew what?” Her eyes were huge, wary. But she was also so turned on her body practically hummed. No one that wasn't hot for him would kiss him like she did. She tasted so carnal. Hell, she even smelled of sex.

  "She dumped me for a bloodsucking lawyer."

  Her lush red lips fell open into a silent “O".

  "Yeah. That night you came over, the night I acted like a total prick ... She'd just told me it was over. She even admitted that she'd been with this other guy for a while."

  Gracie came around the island. “Oh, Steve, I'm...” She let out a quick breath. “I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

  He shrugged again. Ran his hand through his hair. He wasn't looking for her sympathy, but he had to admit it was kind of ... comforting. “I'm really sorry I was such an ass to you that night."

  "I'll take that beer now."

  Damn it. Now she looked at him as if he was a lost puppy she wanted to take home and nurture. That's not what he wanted at all.

  Grabbing a beer from the carton, he pulled his key chain from his pocket and used the bottle opener to pop the top. She took the bottle from him, being oh so careful not to touch him.

  "How about if I put the pizza in the oven to warm, and you can have a seat while I ... um ... freshen up."

  Disgusted with himself for putting a damper on the lust and bringing out the tenderhearted motherly side of her, he grabbed another beer for himself, plopped down on the couch and stared at the cold fireplace. After shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it over the back of the couch. He'd gotten into her house, gotten his hands on her, and then fucked it all up.

  He adjusted himself inside his jeans. The hard-on hadn't diminished one bit, promising a long, painful night. At least until he could make his escape and get back to his place and the privacy of his bathroom. Hell, with the state he was in, the front yard would be too far to walk.

  Closing his eyes, he laid his hand over his dick, gripped the icy beer bottle in the other hand, and prayed he wouldn't make a fool of himself in front of Gracie.

  He hadn't been this horny in years. He hadn't wanted to feel a hot pussy around his pulsating cock this bad in ... maybe never? Every heartbeat made it jump inside his jeans, and a low groan ripped from his throat as he stroked himself.

  "Did you say something?"

  He jerked his hand away from his crotch and whipped his head around to see Gracie standing at the counter. He hadn't thought it was possible, but his cock got harder. She'd changed into something he'd seen her in last summer. Tiny shorts that showed off every inch of her mile-long legs and tight round ass. A black ribbed tank top that, when she moved, rubbed against her nipples and made them hard.

  He shook his head, cleared his throat. “No.” He was so ready to open his fly for a bit of relief.

  She smiled at him and then leaned over the open oven door. Was she trying to kill him? Yes, he was sure of it. You don't waggle that kind of ass in a horny man's face and not expect him to grab it and slam into it.

  He popped the cap off his beer and guzzled it.

  If he got drunk...

  A rueful laugh ripped from his throat. Didn't matter how piss-ass drunk he got tonight. Nothing was going to satisfy him but Gracie.

  Chapter Three

  Gracie pulled the pizza from the oven and set it on the counter. Her nerves jangled and her hands shook. Steve was single? He was here in her house, and he obviously wanted her. Bad.

  Single!

  Erin was gone. What a dumb bitch. She had dumped him.

  Pulling plates from the cupboard, Gracie steadied her grip so she didn't drop them.

  She wondered if she could go through with the plan she'd made while in her bedroom. She'd washed up, dabbed her favorite perfume behind her ear, and slipped into an outfit that had made him look twice last summer. She thought she'd make him forget Erin completely, at least for tonight. He didn't seem totally heartbroken over the loss of his fiancée, more pissed off that she'd dumped him for another guy. So why not have a little fun together? It wasn't as if he was here to propose marriage to her, so what was wrong with some adult foreplay ... and more?

  She wasn't in this for the long haul, so there was no chance of letting her heart get involved. Especially not with someone who worked in the rescue business. Hell no. She'd lost her dad when she was sixteen, while he was on a search and rescue mission in the Rockies looking for some stupid-ass mountain climber who'd disappeared. An avalanche had come down on top of her father, killing him instantly. No, heroes weren't on her long-term agenda.

  But one night? Oh, hell yeah. Maybe two, she thought with a chuckle of anticipation.

  Never in her life had she been forward with a man, but if this was her one and only chance, she was going all the way. Revel in every second of the experience. She moved a couple pizza slices to each plate, picked up some napkins and then grabbed another beer. After downing the first one in her room, she'd decided a little liquid courage never hurt. She wasn't sure she could do all the things to Steve that she wanted to do if she were stone cold sober.

  She trembled with the pleasure of wet heat between her thighs. Oh, yeah, tonight was going to be a night to remember.

  Steve slouched on the couch, a pillow over his lap and a half empty bottle of beer propped on it. She handed him one of the plates, then sat down next to him, careful not to touch him. Yet. Nourishment first. Then hot, hard sex.

  "Thanks,” he mumbled. He leaned forward and set his bottle on the coffee table. The pillow stayed on his lap. She stifled a grin and bit into her pizza. He couldn't fool her. He was acting like a kid.

  They each polished off the food in silence. She set her plate on the table, wiped her mouth with a napkin, then reached for her beer. “Open this for me?” she asked, as she turned sideways to face him and brought one knee up on the couch, lightly bumping his thigh.

  When he dug into his pocket for his key ring, t
he pillow slid off his lap. Damn. The bulge was still big, but not the solid ridge that'd been there before. She'd have to do something about that. Her nipples tightened in anticipation.

  Would he be forceful and rough? Submissive to her every whim? Gentle and sweet? At this point she didn't give a damn as long as he made her come. It'd been a long time since she'd been with a real live man. Her vibrator, which she affectionately called Stanley and used quite often, just couldn't compete with hot flesh or the musky scent of a sexually aroused male. And damn, this man smelled good.

  He flipped the top off the beer and handed it to her, then watched her with those blazing blue eyes as she tipped the bottle back and drank down a few long swallows.

  She lowered the bottle from her lips and glanced toward his crotch. Oh yeah, much better. Her pussy throbbed in response to the sight of the long, thick line of his cock outlined by his jeans.

  When her gaze met his again, she slowly licked her lips.

  His eyes narrowed as he watched her mouth, his chest rose and fell with deep breaths, but he didn't move toward her.

  Shit, she sucked at seduction. Well, what did she expect? She'd never tried it before, hadn't had to really. It wasn't as if she'd ever had a difficult time getting laid. She had a good body and tried to take care of herself. When she used to frequent the singles bars, after a quick hello, there wasn't anything left to do except enjoy herself.

  "Why'd you come here tonight?” she asked, dropping her voice a little, slowing her normally quick speech.

  His gaze lowered to her breasts and as if he commanded them, her nipples poked out against her tank top. Her breath sucked in with surprise at the intense electrical bolts that shot through her, zinging straight to her vagina.

  "Why do you think I came here?” he said, then dropped his gaze even further to settle on her crotch. Could he tell how wet she was? Hot? Practically halfway there just from looking at him?

  She let out a throaty little laugh. “To apologize?"

  His gaze took a slow trip along her bare thigh. Still he didn't move toward her.

  Frustration bubbled through her even as the heat of his gaze shot fireworks off in her brain. She wanted to squirm. To reach down and touch herself. To relieve the ache between her thighs.

  "I think by morning I'll have a lot to apologize for.” His gaze moved up over her hips, her belly, stopping at her nipples. Now rock-hard and almost painful, they begged for his mouth, his tongue. He cut his gaze upward and met her eyes. “Unless you tell me to leave, right now."

  She whimpered at the dark danger she saw in his eyes. They practically glowed with feral heat. This wasn't going to be some casual stroll in the park. When he took her, it was going to be hard. Real hard.

  Her body shook with excitement. “If you leave now, Fireman, you will be sorry."

  He nodded. “Good. Because I have plans for you, Teach."

  She couldn't take it any longer. Reaching up she squeezed her nipple, hoping for just a tiny relief.

  "Ah, ah, ah.” Steve grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from her breast. “I've seen you pleasure yourself, Gracie dear.” Still holding her wrist, he stood and tugged her to her feet. “Tonight you're not allowed to touch yourself in any way."

  His voice was low, commanding. The happy-go-lucky Steve with the boyish grin had vanished and in his place stood someone who was more powerful. Even more of a turn-on.

  "Understand me, Gracie dear?"

  A shiver raced through her at his sinister tone. Goose bumps popped out on her arms. “Yes, sir,” she said, letting him know she willingly stepped into his game. Very willingly.

  He gave a slight nod, picked up their beer bottles in his free hand, and led her to the bedroom. After setting the bottles on the nightstand, he flicked on the lamp by the bed to its lowest setting, her wrist still firmly clasped in his other hand. The soft light flickered off his golden hair, but when he turned toward her, there was nothing soft about him. His face in shadow, he looked hard, like someone she'd run from on a dark street.

  But she had no intension of fleeing her bedroom. As his gaze bore into her, there was nowhere she'd rather be. Never had she let anyone dominate her. She never would've guessed how thrilling it would be. How hot it would make her.

  "Take off your clothes.” He let go of her wrist and stepped back a half pace to give her room.

  Shoving her shorts down her legs, she glanced up at him from under her lashes. His jaw ticked, his eyes narrowed. He slowly shook his head. A dare.

  As she stepped out of the shorts and slowly stood up, she ran her hands up her thighs, dipped her fingers into her wet crevice. The moan slipped out without warning.

  Steve grabbed her hand and spun her around, pulled her other arm behind her back. “I warned you, Gracie dear,” he growled in her ear. “No touching."

  Shocked at the speed with which he'd trapped her, a little shiver of fear sliced through her. He was big and very strong. What if this wasn't a game? What if...? No. She'd known him for two years. Surely she'd know if he were some crazed lunatic.

  "Orange,” he said softly in her ear.

  "Huh?” She tried turning her head to see him, but the way he held her, she could barely move.

  "The safe word. Orange. Say it once. That's all it takes."

  His voice was gentle now, and the fear inside her slipped away. She nodded her understanding.

  "I'll let you go, if you swear to behave.” His voice was firm once again, and she smiled to herself. Holy shit. Mark this night up as one to remember. He was good. And she knew he'd never do anything she didn't want. But damned if she didn't want it all.

  She gave a stiff nod, and he released her hands.

  "Take off your shirt."

  Grabbing the hem, she pulled the tank top over her head and dropped it on the floor.

  "Turn around."

  Dropping her head forward, getting into the role of a scared submissive, she slowly turned toward him.

  "Not bad. I think you'll do."

  From what she could see, she'd more than do. God, she wanted to get his pants off. Get her hands—her mouth—on that dick. She bit her lip to keep from grinning.

  "Are you wet?"

  His words sent another hot lighting bolt racing through her, flushing her skin. Yeah, hell yeah, she was wet. Practically dripping with it. “I ... I'm not sure."

  "Spread your legs."

  She moved her legs apart a tiny bit.

  "More."

  Another small movement.

  He reached out and slid his middle finger between her aching folds, purposely avoiding her clit. The bastard.

  His middle finger glistened with her slick juice when he held it up. “Getting there,” he said. He rubbed his finger over her nipple, and she whimpered as the cool air touched her wet tit, drawing it into a hardened peak.

  "Taste,” he said, holding his finger just an inch away from her mouth.

  Chapter Four

  Steve controlled his breathing as best he could, but dammit, he'd never been so ready to explode. Her body was everything he'd fantasized about and more. Full, ripe breasts with huge, dusky rose nipples. A tiny waist and flared hips. Built for a man to fuck.

  When he started this little game, he hadn't realized how hard it was going to be to control his own need. He'd never been much for domination, or maybe it was that no one he'd tried it on fell into the role so quickly and easily. There'd only been that one tense second when he felt real fear from her, but he'd easily remedied that.

  He rubbed his damp finger over her full bottom lip. “Taste it, I said."

  Her pink tongue darted out, just barely stroking his fingertip. His cock jumped. If he didn't get out of these jeans soon, he'd be permanently disabled. And God help him, he didn't think he could collect disability on a sex injury.

  He pressed his finger against her lips. “Taste it,” he commanded.

  She drew his middle finger into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around it, just like she'd do to his
cock. He bit back a groan and withdrew his finger.

  "Get on the bed."

  Gracie climbed onto the high bed and curled into a ball on the far side, facing away from him. Oh yeah, she was good. The shy little teacher thing was a major turn on. Especially since he knew she didn't have a shy bone in her body. No one who watched him come in another woman's mouth, and got off on seeing it, could possibly be introverted.

  "On your back."

  She didn't move.

  He bit back a grin. Cleared his throat. “Gracie dear, don't make me angry."

  She slowly uncurled, the motion deliberate and provocative. He watched her hand slide down the curve of her waist, skim over her ass.

  "I'm warning you."

  She rolled onto her back and looked up at him with a sweet pout on her sexy red lips. “I need to come."

  He ripped open his button fly and skimmed his T-shirt over his head. Pushing his jeans and briefs to the floor he almost wound up on his face, forgetting he still wore his steel-toed work boots. Letting out a slow breath and praying he didn't come before he got inside her, he sat on the edge of the bed and unlaced his boots as quickly as his shaky fingers allowed.

  Holy fuck, this was so unlike him. Sex was pleasurable, sure, but never in his thirty-three years, not even as an experimenting teen, had he been so close to losing control and blowing his load before he wanted to.

  He kicked off his boots and shoved the pants, underwear and socks to the floor. Then paused, remembering. He snatched his pants up again and dug the condom packet from his wallet. When he rolled over to reach for Gracie, she had one hand in her crotch, the other squeezing one of those luscious nipples. With her head thrown back into the pillow, her long, graceful neck exposed, Steve's heart stopped for a second. He'd never seen anything so sexy, so sensuous, in his life.

  "Stop,” he commanded in his firmest tone.

  Her hands jerked away from her body, she turned her head away from him. “I'm sorry, sir,” she whispered, but the way she arched her ass against the bed said otherwise. She was so close to coming he could smell it.