It was tricky, but I reached between us and grabbed his balls. I rubbed them, applied just enough pressure to hear him moan in pleasure.
“Oh God, Lesli...”
He groaned and began to pump into me faster, almost hurting me... getting to that point where pleasure and pain were quickly becoming one. As I started to come again, I screamed his name so many times my throat became hoarse. With one more strong thrust, he came inside of me.
I rotated my hips and moaned as his seed filled me... it was warm and for some reason, the idea of his essence inside me turned me on even more and I came again, the orgasm of all orgasms radiating from my center and spreading through my veins. My entire body began to shake and my head began to explode.
He rolled off me and gathered me into his arms as I waited for the waves of pleasure from the force of my orgasm to subside. I let him cuddle me against his chest and strangely, I felt closer to him at that moment than I ever had before.
I was drowsily stroking his chest and his head was pressed into my neck. We lay like that with me wrapped in his arms.
I felt comforted, protected, cherished.
And I didn’t want that feeling to end. As I drifted off, he placed a chaste kiss on my forehead.
“Get some sleep, love.”
I fell asleep against his chest feeling many emotions, but in the mist of them all, one emotion stood out. Love.
Author’s Note
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Boxer Next Door
Sneak Peek
1
Lydia
“It’s a gloomy day outside, Charlotte, North Carolina, and snow may just be on the way. Bundle up if you’re going out tonight! Here’s a new track from...”
I turned the radio off, frustrated at just how cheerful the DJ sounded about the weather. It was the beginning of November, and the weather outside certainly showed it. While it wasn’t raining, there were dark clouds in the sky that had been hanging around all day, and now as it drew closer to evening, the air felt much chillier. He might be right, snow might just be on the way.
The weather was bad enough, but after a hectic day of court, I was at the end of my rope. Being a lawyer had been my dream, and while it had been hard when I started out, I doubt I’d ever been as tired as I felt then. It was probably just my years catching up with me, but to say I was glad the day was over and I was glad to be home was an enormous understatement.
I practically stumbled through the door, tossing off my high heels and dropping my purse and some files on the table in the foyer.
“Bryson!” I called out for my eight-year-old son. “Mommy’s home!”
There was silence as I slowly flexed my toes. Then, there was the sound of little feet rushing on the hardwood floor above me. I smiled as I kept my eyes on the stairs. Bryson came around the curve and paused when he caught sight of me. He grinned at me, and it was enough to give me a little more energy.
“Mom!” he exclaimed, practically flying down the stairs and attacking me in a hug.
I let out a squeal as he slammed into me. My balance was a little off, and we almost went tumbling onto the floor. I let out a delighted laugh. I squirmed out of his hold so I could squat down and pull him into a proper hug.
“And how has my little man been?” I asked as I pulled back, ruffling his dark hair. “You didn’t give your babysitter any trouble, I hope?” I asked in my best mommy voice.
Bryson scoffed at me, pouting. “Of course not! I stayed in my room almost all day playing video games and reading comics. Julie is in the kitchen, she was going to make me a snack.”
I pecked a kiss on his cheek. He gave me an expression of disgust as he wiped his cheek and I laughed some more.
“Why don’t we go see Julie for this snack then, hmm?”
I got up to my feet, wincing a little as I walked. I’d been on my feet for most of the day, and my feet were sore from the high heels.
Just a little further, I soothed. A little more, and then I can rest my feet.
Julie was in the kitchen, putting together some sandwiches when we walked in. I let Bryson rush over, following behind him.
“Hi there, Julie,” I greeted, giving her a small smile and a wave. “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble today.”
Bryson stuck his tongue out at me. Julie just laughed.
“It’s all right, Lydia. He was a perfect little angel.”
I pursed my lips, doubting the statement. I knew how hyper my son could be.
“I’m glad that you came. I kinda need to go home; I’ve got a lot of assignments that I need to get back to.” She gave me an apologetic look.
I shook my head. “No, I completely understand. Bryson, take a sandwich and sit down, okay? I’ll walk Julie to the door.”
I watched as Julie brought a sandwich and a glass of juice over to the table, and Bryson hurried over to get into his seat. She ruffled his hair, then we both left him to eat.
Julie was the daughter of my neighbor and a teenager in her junior year of high school. Her school wasn’t that far from Bryson’s. It had been hard before she came into our lives, hurrying to get away from work so I could pick him up in the afternoons, only to leave him at home or take him to work with me or leave him to his own devices as I locked myself up in my home office. I’d talked to my neighbor at a local party some months back, and she’d told me her daughter was looking for a part-time job.
After we’d talked, since their schools were so close, she’d agreed to pick him up after school on the days I couldn’t make it and take him home to wait for me to get there. There were nights when I was away longer, so I paid her per hour with a little extra on top for picking Bryson up. I didn’t feel he was old enough to be left alone, and I didn’t have anyone else I trusted my son with, so I was very grateful for her help.
We stopped at the foyer, and I went to the table where I’d left my purse and my papers. I reached into my purse and pulled out some bills.
“Thanks for looking after him, Julie,” I said with a grateful smile, handing the bills over to her.
“Anytime, Lydia,” she said happily, tucking them away. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
She waved on her way out, and I made my way back to the kitchen where Bryson was still eating. I selected a sandwich for myself and a glass of milk, then sat across from my son at the dining table. He had his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk as he chewed his food, and I couldn’t help smiling.
“Try not to choke yourself,” I warned him, taking a small bite of my sandwich. “And don’t eat too much or you’ll ruin your appetite for dinner.”
Bryson frowned at me, then chewed furiously and swallowed down his food, taking a quick drink of his juice.
“This is enough for dinner,” he said stubbornly.
I frowned. “You need to eat more than a sandwich and some juice, honey.”
He shook his head. “No, Mom. Remember your promise. I want snacks.”
I sighed but didn’t want to argue with him, and I let it drop. I’d already made the promise to him that since he didn’t have school tomorrow, we would binge watch a few movies later. I didn’t want him to stay up for too long, but he already had a few movies lined up, and we’d probably just keep watching until he fell asleep. Not that I minded. I worried that we didn’t get enough time for just the two of us anymore. And it would be a good way to forget the day I’d had.
Bryson finished eating quickly, took his things to the sink, then hurrie
d to the living room to get his movies ready.
I took my time. After I finished eating, I put on some popcorn in the microwave, then I went to my room to get changed from my work outfit, pulling on a more comfortable fleece tracksuit. I made my way back to the kitchen to get the popcorn. I ripped it open and poured it into a bowl. I mourned a little at the lack of butter, but found a bag of chips in one of the cupboards in case Bryson needed something more.
With everything prepared—at least for the moment, knowing I’d have to get us more snacks as the night wore on—I went to the living room.
By the time I got there, Bryson was bouncing on the couch with the remote in hand, waiting impatiently for me.
“Mom,” he whined. “Hurry up!”
I chuckled and moved to sit down next to him. I curled into the corner of the couch, pulling a knit blanket onto my lap and covered my legs with it. Bryson got under the blanket too, then fiddled with the remote.
We were watching some movie he’d been looking forward to for some time. I didn’t know much about it besides the vague summary, but it was PG, so I thought it would be okay.
“Are we ready for the movie yet?”
Bryson shot a quick glance at me. “Just a sec, Mom. I’m waiting for the internet to load.”
“Do you need help finding the movie?”
“Nah, Mom. I’m fine.”
I was a little skeptical, but sure enough, a minute later, the movie was starting. Bryson squirmed in excitement, before completely burying himself under the blanket, leaving only his head out.
“Mom, it’s starting!”
I chuckled at him. “I can see, honey.” I picked up the bowl and held it out to him. “Popcorn?”
He took a handful and started shoving the kernels into his mouth. His nose wrinkled a little, and he frowned at me. I knew what he wanted, and I shrugged.
“Sorry, kiddo, no butter. Promise I’ll have some for next time, though.”
He went back to staring at the TV, too excited to worry too much about it. As the starting credits went across the screen, Bryson moved, so he was leaning against me, and I wrapped an arm around his shoulder, setting the bowl of popcorn carefully on my lap. I stared down at it for a moment, knowing I really shouldn’t be eating any, even without the butter. I mentally shrugged and popped a few into my mouth.
It’s movie night with Bryson, it should be fine. I’ll just get in a few extra minutes of work out for the week.
After all, my body was no longer young.
I hugged my son to me, barely paying attention to the movie, and focused more on his glowing face, my lips turned up into a smile unconsciously.
For a while now, it had just been Bryson and me. There were times when it felt like it had been much longer, but more than a year ago, my husband had just up and disappeared from our lives without a word. Mike and I were, technically, already divorced by that point. But it didn’t stop me from thinking how much of a bastard he was. Even if he didn’t want to see me, the least he could have done was stick around to see his son.
When we all lived happily together, Bryson had been such a darling little boy. After the divorce and Mike’s disappearance, he’d turned moody and grown reserved. He was only just opening up to me again, and I couldn’t help but be glad.
Why did things turn out like this? I thought to myself in a moment of nostalgia.
Back then, my boy had had friends that he raved about hanging out with; he didn’t just lock himself up in his room to play video games and read comics. I knew from his teachers that he wasn’t pulling away from people anymore, but he didn’t play with his friends as often, and he didn’t insist on me letting him go to one of his friend’s places over the weekend like he used to. The one time I’d asked, his answer had been simple and made me want to cry.
“Because I’d rather spend more time with you.”
Sometimes I wondered if he was worried I would leave him the way his dad had. I would never do that, only I didn’t know quite how to tell him, especially since he didn’t like talking about his dad at all.
Bryson was like a little copy of me. Both Mike and I had dark hair, so we could both claim that addition to his genes, but he got his light gray eyes from me. Ever since his dad had left and he saw how much I was struggling for us on my own, he’d become my little helper. He helped me cook, helped me do chores. Before I had Julie helping out, he’d insisted at one point that I could leave him to get home and stay there on his own if it would make things easier for me. He was such a charming little boy, and for a month after the divorce, I’d cried for the both of us, that my little man would have to grow up without his father there for him.
He tried hard to act like it didn’t affect him, but I knew it did, and I did my absolute best, only for him.
The movie was halfway through when the doorbell rang. Bryson didn’t even bother looking up, not until I went to move away.
“Mom,” he whined, holding onto me. “It’s almost at the best part! You can't leave now.”
“But there’s someone at the door,” I replied, brushing off his hands so I could get up. “You can just tell me how it goes later, okay? With as much detail as you’d like.”
It was enough to placate him.
“Okay!” he chirped, turning back to the movie. He’d lost the smile, full concentration on his face.
I grinned to myself because I knew the concentration was because he didn’t want to miss anything so he could recount it all later perfectly. The doorbell rang again, and I hurried over to answer it.
I opened it, only to find the gorgeous new neighbor from next door.
2
Lydia
My breath caught in my chest, eyes widening in a moment of surprise.
Fuck.
He hadn't moved in that long ago. I’d never officially met him, but it had been a weekend when he moved in, so I was at home to notice all the commotion. I’d seen him around the place, through the windows as he fixed up the house, outside fixing a broken shutter, even out on the yard, blowing leaves into piles to be gathered.
Every time I saw him, he always looked busy. There were occasions where I’d called a hello over the fence or given a quick wave. He’d given a distracted hello and a wave back, and that was about as far as the interactions between us had gone.
So what was he doing on my doorstep?
Even though I knew better, I could feel my heart start to beat faster. My neighbor was a bit of a looker. Okay, that was understating it—the guy was very good-looking. If I had been several years younger, or he had been older, I might have found some courage to explore it. But he was too damn young for me.
And besides, after Mike and that heartbreak, I knew better.
“Hi,” my sexy neighbor said, giving me a bashful grin. “We’ve never talked before, but I live next door.”
I smiled back, hiding my initial surprise. “No, I know who you are. I’m just surprised to see you here, I guess. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I was hoping there was something I could do for you.”
His answer left me confused. Before I could figure out what he meant, or just ask for it, he was holding his hand out to me, grinning.
“I’m Ken Davis,” he introduced. “And I am so sorry, but… I kinda knocked down the wooden privacy fence in your backyard,” he admitted sheepishly and hurried to add, “I swear it was a total accident. I was working out back and it just somehow happened. And I promise I will repair the fence, and I can pay you for damages to your yard.”
He stopped talking, and for a moment I didn’t know what to say. Mostly because I hadn't been listening to him.
Dammit. His eyes…
There was so much more about him that was good-looking than just his eyes. He had blond hair, he was tall and so fit; I was pretty sure Olympians would look at him and feel jealous. He’d obviously just come from work, dressed in a tank top covered with a light jacket and looking like he was sweating even in the cold weather we h
ad. There was a hint of a tattoo at the top of his tank top, and I wished silently that it were just a little lower.
I’d never seen him this close, and I’d never had the chance to admire his eyes before. They were so green, beautiful, reminding me of a time when Mike, Bryson, and I went out to camp one summer. It was one of the last happy memories we’d had as a family and something precious to me. Looking into Ken’s eyes, I could hardly think.
I did clue into his words when I heard the words ‘fence’ and ‘knocked down.’ Then he was talking about repairing my fence, and I figured out what he’d come for.
“Oh,” I said after a long silence.
Ken’s eyebrows shot up like he’d expected more of a reaction, and I could feel my face warming. I cleared my throat and thought frantically for a minute.
“Um, I mean, it’s fine. The fence was old when my husband and I bought the place, anyway, years ago. So I’m not surprised it got knocked down easily. I’m sure you didn’t mean to do it. You can just leave it, I’ll take care of it.”
I arched an eyebrow at him as he chuckled.
“I still feel responsible, though. It was, after all, my mistake that caused the damage. I don’t think I can just ignore it.”
His voice… it was so deep and smooth. Every time he chuckled, the sound sent a shiver up and down my spine. I could feel my body stirring with a desire I hadn't felt in a while, and if I weren't so fascinated by this guy, I would have panicked because of it.
I didn’t need to fall for a stranger, especially one as young this. I was a thirty-eight-year-old woman, and this kid didn’t look older than twenty-five! Feeling attracted towards him made me feel like I was robbing the cradle. He was a grown-up but just too damn young.
Billionaire's Game Page 17
