“I didn’t mean that,” I tell him. “I just...” But I don’t finish.
I suddenly don’t feel hungry anymore and wonder how things could go from so great to so glum in a minute.
Blake’s expression changes when he seems to spot someone he knows, and with a casual gesture of his hand he calls over another waiter, speaking to him in a low tone.
The head waiter, I guess. He follows Blake’s eyes, and with a gasp he apologizes profusely, promising to serve us himself before disappearing.
Blake seems to relax, translating some dishes for me he thinks I might like.
“What was all that about?” I ask, carefully moving my eyes to point out the head waiter.
“Oh, just making sure that other asshole waiter gets what he deserves,” Blake says with a smile, sighing with contentment.
“What do you mean. Because he looked at me?” I ask, confused, some irritation hovering in my voice.
Blake shrugs, like a man who’s already dealt with a problem and has moved on.
“I don’t need you to do anything if somebody looks at me, Blake,” I tell him firmly, feeling my face flush with anger.
“I can speak for myself if I think someone is acting out of order,” I add, watching his smile shift to a grin at the corner of his mouth.
“Like you are with me now?” he says, cocking a brow, making my eyes narrow as I toss my napkin down onto the table, really mad now.
But his fascination only seems to grow.
He’s not apologizing for making me mad. He seems to almost be enjoying it. Practically getting off on it.
I’m just about to stand up and tell him where he can stick his fancy clothes and French-Italian restaurant when he gives me one of those commanding looks.
“Krystal, I won’t have another man, any man looking at you the way that waiter did. It’s a lot easier for him to get his ass kicked by his boss than by me,” he says, a matter of fact but with such finality that it actually takes the wind out of my sails.
Why would or should Blake even care who looks at me?
“Remember, what you said about being mine for the day?” he reminds me with a grin.
I open my mouth, trying to come up with something to stop him in his tracks like he’s done with me so many times since we met but I’ve got nothing.
I wonder how I’d feel if someone else looked at Blake in a way I didn’t approve of.
What would I do?
I’d be furious, truth be told.
I settle back into my chair and fold my napkin over my lap again.
“Is this what today’s all about? Having someone to dress up and act just how you want them to?” I ask, not meaning to sound short but there’s still some venom in my voice.
“Not at all, Krystal,” he says, leaning on the table with his elbows, his huge hands almost touching both of mine.
“I just want—” he starts.
“Apologies, Mr. Mason. I’ve sent Geoffrey home for the evening. Maybe he can think things over for the next few days before we have him serving our guests again. Please, accept our sincere apologies,” the head waiter says in a low voice but with such honesty and sincerity, I really do feel that this Geoffrey guy has done something terrible all of a sudden.
Unforgivable.
It seems to satisfy Blake though, and he thanks the waiter, ordering for us both.
I try to stay mad at him though. The whole attitude is so… so… Ugh! I don’t know, like someone who thinks they can get whatever they want just by clicking their fingers.
Or giving a certain look.
Maybe flashing that winning smile, creasing the little fold in his chin as he smiles.
Ah, who am I kidding? I can’t stay mad at him. If anything, watching him control things with so much certainty makes me like him even more.
Makes me wish I could be so commanding and assertive all the time.
By the time our first course arrives, and Blake tells me a story about the last time he was in Italy and was left behind when he missed his connecting flight, I’ve forgotten all about what happened with the waiter.
Forgotten all about how maddening he can be when he acts like such a boss, and here I am back to making little sounds when he speaks.
Feeling my eyes grow wide and my lip getting chewed by my top teeth when he looks at me a certain way.
The food’s amazing, with only the pasta course looking familiar to me, but it’s the company I’m really enjoying by the time we finish dessert and I turn down the offer of coffee.
“I’ll be up all night,” I protest, stifling a yawn and not because I’m bored.
I really am beat, and with so much food in me, I’m really am ready for bed.
“Maybe if I kept you up all night I really could have you to myself all day,” he says in a deeper tone that seems to set the tableware shivering as much as I am inside.
He raises a brow in a silent question, but smiling to himself he lets me off the hook. Leaving it there and calling for the check.
Like the new outfits, I know it’s pointless to even try and stop him from paying for a meal that looks more like a mortgage payment than dinner when I see him sign the receipt without a glance.
Adding a cash tip of more than what I have in my pocket as he folds the leather receipt holder closed, handing it back to our waiter.
“I can drive us back if you’re tired,” he suggests on the way back to the car, but I shake my head.
Not only is it dad’s car, but focusing on the road will keep me alert and maybe help stop me from wondering just what he means by ‘keeping me up all night.’
Hearing him say it. Repeating the phrase in my mind is the surest thing to keep me awake all night just thinking about him.
As if I wasn’t going to anyway.
Chapter Ten
Blake
I surprised her with the clothes but shocked and maybe even angered her some before we’ve even started dinner.
I mean it though, I won’t have anyone look at her the way that waiter did. He’s lucky I didn’t kick his ass on the spot.
Far from expecting her to get upset about my reaction, I discover just how cute she gets when she really is mad.
I can’t help but smile, feeling a new dimension to my seemingly constant arousal now whenever I’m near her.
I wonder if you can be so feisty when you straddle me with my fat cock inside your sweet pussy, Krystal.
The question in my mind only makes me smile wider and stiffen harder under the tablecloth.
I feel like slipping off my shoe, pushing her legs open with my foot, and probing her dampness with it under the table.
But that’s hardly first date behavior.
Is that what this is, a first date?
Well, it is if I say it is, even though I haven’t said it in so many words out loud to Krystal. It should be fairly obvious.
She seems sleepy, but after what we just ate I can’t blame her.
I offer to drive, but she’s determined to see me ‘home’ as much as I was to get her away from hers.
It’s a different drive back, for me at least. Feels like we’re going in the wrong direction.
But if I have to wait some for the right moment or the space to create it, I guess I can do that.
But I’m not known for my patience. Not renowned for waiting too long to claim what I want in this life.
With Krystal though, I can wait as long as it takes.
Provided I don’t blow my cover or anything else in the meantime.
Pulling into her driveway I can see her neighbors is still empty, making me wonder again just what’s happened to him.
All the better for me, but it is kind of weird he’s a no show at his own house after an overseas trip he confirmed to be picked up from.
I don’t feel like playing detective right now though. The longer this guy, Nate Macy stays gone the better.
I figure I should have things squared away with Krystal within another day or two.
Slow by my own standards, but she’s a very special project. The most precious thing I’ve dealt with so far and I won’t fail her or myself in claiming her properly.
Walking her to her door instead of mine, I can see where this is leading. A long and frustrating night alone ahead for me.
“If you need a ride, just let me know. Anytime,” she tells me, pausing at her door before even trying to find her key.
“Your dad should be worried about leaving you alone with an older man,” I tell her, knowing we can’t possibly be interrupted here. Now.
Knowing how much I need to kiss her at least.
If I can’t unwrap my present I at least wanna shake the box a little.
She takes in a sharp breath as I move closer, but only because we both feel it.
This charge between us is undeniable and I’m done tip-toeing around it.
“I’m not though,” is all she manages to whisper before I cup her neck in my hand and lean down to press my mouth over hers.
My other hand moves to her face, holding her cheek as I hear her moan softly. Her own hands finding my chest and clutching at it.
It’s nowhere near long enough, but I know it’s a goodnight kiss somehow.
She pulls back slowly, mainly for air and I catch her as she wobbles a little. Giddy from the kiss and still uneasy on those heels.
“You’re not gonna ask me in?” I rasp, pulling her a little closer so she can feel what she does to me pressing into her.
“I… It’s complicated,” she whispers. And I know she means about her dad. Not the fact that I’m not her real neighbor.
“Can I at least see you tomorrow?” I ask, knowing I won’t take no for an answer, that I’m already destined to stay up all night and watch over her house.
She gnaws at her lip in thought before trying to get both her arms all the way around me. “Of course.” She sighs.
“I’ve had the best day. The best night ever. It’s just all so fast…” She sighs as I hold her tighter.
Her chest melting into me, my stiff cock wedged between her cleavage as we both let out more than one little moan or groan of need.
She starts to say something, and god knows I’ve got enough I need to tell her. But as quickly as we’ve found each other, sealed our true feelings with a kiss. It’s over.
She says goodnight and hurries inside, closing the door behind her, making me wonder if I did something wrong.
I doubt it.
She’s right, it’s been a big day for her and a lot to take in all at once.
I remind myself that not everyone reaches for what they want seconds after seeing it. Especially where matters of the heart are concerned.
But I’ve never been more sure of anything, and I linger on her porch long enough to hear her making her way upstairs before I check the front door’s locked.
Good girl.
I’ll watch over you tonight, and every night after this, I swear.
Making my way back next door I can see a light go on in a window that faces the bedroom in her neighbor’s house.
Perfect. I can keep an eye on her all night.
I’d rather be closer. Much closer, but for an afternoon and evening’s work I think it could have gone a lot worse compared to how well it’s gone so far.
I let myself into her neighbor’s house and make my way straight up to the bedroom.
Her blinds are drawn, but I can see the shadow of her curves as she turns, probably admiring herself in the mirror.
The aching throb in my pants is in my hands soon enough, and again I have to temper my instincts. Cool the urge for my release as I watch her silhouette undress.
My heart pounds in my chest and my blood races in my ears as I fight the urge not to finish myself watching her private show.
Lucky for me, she moves away from the window not long before it’s too late for me to keep my own promise.
Keeping my seed for her alone.
Another light comes on in her house, a frosted window I figure must be the bathroom, but I can’t see her anymore.
It stays on for almost half an hour and then goes out, then she’s in her room again, then darkness.
In a cold sweat by a stranger’s window, I try to swallow, my still hard cock twitching in my hand before I tuck myself again and pull up an easy chair I set it by the window.
Ready to keep my vigil over what’s mine.
Guarding the most precious treasure I’ve come across in my life. Not wanting to take my eyes off her window or her house for a second.
It’s a quiet night and an even quieter neighborhood. Not a single car passes by after eleven, and the night is cool and long as I watch.
Glad nothing is happening. Grateful she’s safe and that I know where she is.
Her place is with me now, but that’s something for tomorrow, I tell myself.
I couldn’t have another night like this.
In the morning, I’ll explain myself and how I feel. I’ll take her home or we can go somewhere for a few days.
Really get to know one another.
During the long, slow hours I occasionally glance around the bedroom I’m in. There’s a stack of magazines with the same title, ‘Chord’ with big haired musicians or baseball-capped rappers. A couple with a balding, executive looking type grinning at the camera over a large audio mixing desk.
The few pictures around are similar and I’m surprised it’s taken me so long to put together.
But then again, I have had my attention elsewhere.
So, Nate’s a music magazine editor.
Good for you, buddy. Maybe you took a side trip we don’t know about?
Well, wherever he is, I hope he’s not planning on coming home tonight.
I’m fully alert to the possibility though and have an exit plan in case he does.
I can scoot out the back door if he does turn up and scale his fence into Krystal’s yard.
But I hope it doesn’t come to that. I’ve got the perfect view of her place from right here.
What feels like three night’s worth of wait gradually becomes the gray light of dawn, and I feel excited knowing I have another day ahead of us both together.
Debating whether I should grab a quick shower, knowing I really have to. I see some movement down the street.
A dark truck parks a few doors down, and somebody gets out.
Heavy jacket, cap pulled down. Could be anyone. But he’s headed straight for Krystal’s place.
I hear a low growl echo off the walls as I tense up. Gripping the sides of the chair as I watch the guy move into her yard, using both hands to hoist himself up and look over her fence into the rear yard.
In seconds I’m down the stairs and out the door.
In four long strides, I have the prick by the throat, lifting him up off the ground by it.
“Trying to get a good look, eh?” I snarl, watching his pale and terrified face turn a deeper shade without blood flow.
“Well, I’m here now. You can look at me all you want,” I tell him, pulling him close enough to whisper in his ear, reminding him what a huge mistake he’s just made.
He gurgles, kicking some and one of his hands connects with my body, making him wince in pain.
A light comes on in the house and I hear Krystal’s shrill voice.
“Oh my god, Blake No! Stop!”
I turn to see her, a light dressing gown blown open by her swift steps. The full view of her silk pajamas underneath.
Those thick hips and thighs. Her nipples like rivets in the frigid morning air.
“It’s the yard guy. It’s Mark… He does your lawn!” she cries out.
I loosen my grip, but before I let him down and I murmur into his ear. “I’m Blake Mason. The new neighbor. You do my lawn, got it?” I rasp.
“Sorry for the misunderstanding pal, I’ll make it worth your while,” I growl in his ear. “But if you don’t play along that I’m her new neighbor, I swear I’ll finish what I just started. Got
it?”
He nods feverishly, choking as I let go, fishing into my pocket for my billfold and with my broad back to Krystal I thrust the whole thing into his hand.
“Reparations,” I murmur. “Just play along, yeah?”
Rubbing his throat as he pockets the thick roll of bills he nods, but there’s a look in his eyes of a man who might already be planning revenge.
I know I would.
“Jesus, Blake!” Krystal scolds me, checking if the guy’s alright. “You’re gonna kill somebody if you don’t take it easy.”
Chapter Eleven
Krystal
“Yeah, it’s me. Mark. See Mr. Mason?” Mark tells Blake who’s finally let him go but still stands over him like a towering oak.
“I thought it was a prowler,” Blake tells me, still panting from all the excitement. “He was looking over your fence like he was gonna climb it.
“My dad said you’d be here early to give us a quote on the yard, front and back,” I tell Mark, apologizing as best I can.
Blake doesn’t seem to think there’s a problem, but he can’t just go yanking people or pushing them around when he doesn’t get his way.
“Are you alright?” he asks me, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“I think you should ask Mark that, don’t you Blake?” I snap at him, turning on my heel and shaking my head.
Going back inside before I slam the door shut.
I can hear Blake and Mark still, low, quiet voices.
Not angry anymore, so maybe he is apologizing.
He’d better be.
Puffing my temper out through my cheeks I try to fix some coffee before I realize it’s all still next door over at Blake’s house.
I growl loudly and want to stamp my feet, throw something.
I’ve never had anyone make me swing so suddenly from crazy crush to plain crazy in a second until meeting Blake.
There’s a chime at the door, and I can’t be sure if it’s the lawn guy or Blake until I open it.
It’s Blake.
Mark looks like he’s heading away from the yard and I can’t blame him.
I block the doorway with my arm, keeping my grip on the handle, only raising my brow in question at Blake.
Not My Neighbor: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 6
