Boys Next Door (11 page)

‘I can’t imagine me doing that to you,’ he said. His hands left my breasts to push at my jeans. For one moment his hand swept over mine, so that I finally abandoned my jeans and let him push them down. He did it much slower than I would have – dragging it out so that each inch the denim dropped, the wetter I got. And the more enthralled Stephen seemed.

‘I can’t imagine you
not
doing it,’ I said, when he had my jeans around my thighs. Which were shaking, by the way. Shaking so hard I pressed them together and felt a fresh surge of arousal flood my pelvis. ‘Have you looked at you lately?’

He shook his head as if half hearing me. ‘Too busy looking at you.’

Warm fingers spanned my naked sex and the temperature change was startling. He curled one finger to my clit and pressed it – a simply easy move that had so much weight behind it in this particular moment – I gasped.

‘Kick those off, please,’ he said, sounding a little shy.

I kicked off my jeans and smiled at him, running a fingertip along his cock, my hand moving, once again, on the outside of his jeans just to torture him a little. His bare chest was smooth with just a peppering of dark hair and it clearly got attention in the working out department. I leaned in, kissing one nipple and then the other, before dragging my parted lips slowly across the expanse of his pecs.

He sighed. I liked that sound. I fucking
loved
that sound.

Stepping in close, I parted my legs a little and let him finger my outer lips, tickle at my clit, and when I tilted my hips just so, Stephen took the hint and thrust a finger into me – testing me. I passed the test – I was wet.

‘That’s for you,’ I said, squeezing my internal muscles around his thick finger.

His eyelids fluttered just a touch. He hooked his finger and pushed into me a bit deeper. When he found my G-spot, I stilled and he nudged it with the pad of his fingertip. ‘I want you,’ he said.

This was not a news flash but it was so sweet to hear.

‘And I want you.’ I unbuttoned his fly and took a moment to slide my hands down into the back of his pants, cupping that sweet ass of his. Stephen Vogel seemed to have been assembled by very generous gods.

‘Take off the pants,’ I rumbled. My voice had gotten rough and rocky with my lust. When I kissed his chest again, my hair tickled over his bare skin and he shuddered.

‘Tell me something.’

‘About what?’ I stroked the muscles along his flanks and smiled when his skin danced for me.

‘About you.’

I stared at him hard, wondering what he saw when he looked into my dark-brown eyes. When I looked into his steel-coloured gaze, I saw a man I could trust.

‘What is it with the men in this neighbourhood? You all want to chat.’ This time I pressed the flat of my palm over his heart and felt it gallop.

‘Just one thing.’ He gripped my ass and pulled me flush to him. He was toying with me now, letting me feel the impressive length of his sex. Making it ride the split of my nether lips. The denim that covered him was enough to drive any sane woman crazy.

‘My father bought me a house that’s overlooked by a tower built by a reclusive eccentric man with a secret love. And I think that’s the fucking coolest – thing – ever.’ I punctuated each word with a small thrust of my hips.

He groaned and released me so he could undo the rest of his buttons and push his jeans down. When he was bare, when his cock had sprung free, just begging for me to take it in hand and stroke it until he came, I sucked in a great shaky breath. I wanted to watch his face when he came. I wanted to feel the hot tacky trail of his release on my skin. I wanted a lot and so I pushed him back till the back of his knees hit his bed and he buckled.

‘I like that when I look out my window I see you all in a row.’ It was something I didn’t realise was true until I said it aloud.

He looked intense and only blanched a little when I brought up the fact that I was working my way through the three of them. Or maybe a better way to see it was distracting myself with them. I glanced around and he whispered, ‘Top left drawer of the dresser,’ while he toyed with one of my nipples. Working it into such a tight point I felt a tickle and tightening in my throat from the sensation.

The inside of his dresser drawer smelled like cedar and spice and I took a big breath of it while claiming a condom. Stephen then started to cover himself and I shook my head. ‘Wait,’ I whispered. I pressed my sex to him so he could feel what he did to me. Not on his cock – I wasn’t going to take us there just yet. I perched higher than his erection and it poked along the crease of my bottom cheekily.

Stephen’s eyes never left me. Even as he stroked my skin. Even as he cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples so I moaned, rotating my hips so he could feel the heat of my pussy – the wetness there – against his flesh. Even when I bent to kiss him, he kept his eyes wide and watching.

‘Shut your eyes!’ I laughed.

‘No.’

‘Oh, now you’re going to argue?’ He tasted salty and sweet when I licked him. The way he reacted – the way he rippled under me – made me want to do it more. I kissed a trail – agonisingly slow and purposeful – from his thick neck to his flat belly.

‘I’m not arguing. I just don’t want to not see you, is all. You’re here. I want to … enjoy it.’

Speaking of enjoying it, the way his body shivered under my lips made me clench my cunt to feel the almost-spasm of pleasure it evoked. He was so fucking pretty.

‘I’m sure you won’t mind,’ I said softly and sucked the tip of him into my mouth.

I was getting from Stephen what I had not gotten from Coop. Rolling his smooth cock along my inner cheek, over my tongue, I nudged the small slit at the tip of him so that his hips jittered a little.

When I laughed, I saw him laughing too. ‘I don’t mind.’

Supporting his head with his arms, he watched me – alert but not wary. Relaxed but not bored. I wanted to please him and that pleased me.

I went down further, taking his cock all the way, feeling it nudge the back of my throat and making my eyes water just a bit. Stephen groaned and reached for my hair. His fingers played over and through my long bangs and then he stroked my forehead like a true lover – tender, affectionate.

Fear sizzled in my belly and I straightened up, eyes pinned to his, licking the thick vein that traversed the back of his erection. His hands dropped to his sides and a rush of air burst out of him.

‘Can you … please? Don’t make me come that way.’

‘Roll that bad boy on,’ I said as I slid up his body, keeping contact all the way. Marvelling at the rasp of his coarse body hair along my smooth skin. The extra heat he seemed to give off. The jut of masculinity between his legs that I simply could not wait to lower myself onto.

He rolled the condom on with almost steady hands.

‘You’re a big boy,’ I teased and he blushed.

When I moved to straddle him, Stephen caught my wrist and said, ‘Will you kiss me, Farrell. First. Just a kiss?’

Something about that request broke my heart.

I moulded myself to him, hooked my leg over his waist and let him wrap me in his arms. His lips were soft and smooth and willing, his kiss was almost melancholy. There was so much need in it.

I realised where the fear came from. I could love this man. He was
that
kind of guy. So I had to be careful.

When his tongue stroked my tongue just right, a bubble of arousal burst inside of me and I was done. ‘I need to fuck you, big boy,’ I muttered against his scratchy stubbled jaw. ‘Or I’m going to come just kissing you.’

‘You keep talking like that and I’m going to come just kissing you, too,’ he sighed.

This time when I straddled him, he held his cock for me to take. I lowered myself slowly, watching the penetration of each hard inch as he fed it into my body. I watched myself take him and take him, and when I finally was seated firmly to the root, that subtle bit of friction was enough to tip me right over the edge. My cunt rippling around him, milking him, working him so that I saw Stephen clench is jaw and grit his teeth as my orgasm rolled on.

‘That was … easy,’ he gasped.

‘You had me all worked up,’ I said, my voice an airy sound in the quiet room. ‘But now I’m good.’ And I started to rock against him.

‘Christ, I hope I am,’ he said.

I laughed and leaned over him, relishing the full length of him pressing inside my cunt. He was long and the tip of his cock pressed all the tender blooms of nerves deep in my sheath. It was good to feel that kind of firm pressure – to be so full of cock. He went deep and his kisses made me crazy – I could get used to fucking Stephen Vogel.

I was getting off on him just watching me. Surreal – almost preternatural – eyes studying me intently as I moved. He put his hands on my hips, guiding me but not demanding anything of me but what I wanted.

I rocked side to side and watched his mouth grow tighter and his eyes grow darker and his pulse point throb madly.

‘You’re killing me,’ he laughed – eyes drifting shut.

Leaning forward, pressing my breasts to his hard chest. Feeling his heart pound against mine, I kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, almost timid, but I caught Stephen up in that kiss and his hands abandoned my hips as his own hips rose up, seeking to drive his cock deeper into my heated wetness. He took my face in his hands, taking my mouth, his tongue soft but insistent against mine. When a small, almost helpless, noise burst out of him and brushed my lips, I came again.

Pushing my hands to his shoulders, driving my hips forward to get him deeper; trying so hard to ride out the blissful – always too short – waves of my orgasm. Stephen twisted his fingers in my hair and yanked just enough to give me a burst of discomfort. Just enough to ramp up the tail end of my release and drag it out. Until it was him sighing out his orgasm, trim body trembling under mine. My name on his lips as he emptied into me.

‘Farrell.’

It sent a shiver up my spine.

* * *

We drank the wine in bed. He told me about his parents, living up in Vermont, running a bed and breakfast in their golden years.

‘How golden are they?’

‘They are not
that
golden,’ he said. ‘My mother’s mid-fifties, my dad just hit sixty.’

There were six brothers and sisters, too.

‘So what are you doing here in Maryland while the whole brood is up in Vermont?’

He shrugged, his broad shoulders seemed to gather and hold the golden light of the bedroom. I couldn’t resist touching his shoulder, sliding my hand along his chest. He sighed and turned to kiss me with his wine-sweet lips.

‘Stay,’ he said.

‘You were telling me why you are here and they’re all there,’ I reminded him.

‘I don’t like all the … chaos. I’m very much a loner. They started the bakery here when I was a kid. We’d moved here to open it, in fact. My grandparents were still alive and my dad came here to try and do his own thing … to a degree.’

‘So now you’ve left all of
them
to come here and do the same.’ I smiled. Ringing his nipple with the edge of my fingernail, I watched it harden. Watched the blanket change shape as his cock stiffened under the fabric.

‘Yep. It’s complicated …’

‘And how does he feel about that?’ I asked. When had I become Stephen’s shrink?

He caught my hand up in his and transferred it from his chest to his lap. I squeezed the hard cock he put my hand on. My blood leapt when he made a needy sound. I liked how he was – not submissive, but willing to give me the reins.

‘He feels like I should do what he says and not what he’s done,’ he said, his voice rough. ‘To do what’s said and not care about my own … wants. But someone had to run this store. How can he complain?’

‘Exactly.’ I tightened my fingers on his hard length again.

When he rolled onto me, I opened my legs for him, baring my pussy, already wet for him. There was a brief moment of laughter when he sprang from the bed to grab a condom, growling, ‘I’ll have to put these fucking things closer to the bed.’

But then Stephen was in me, harder than I could comprehend. His breath a rush and rumble in my ear, his hands strong on my hips. His pelvis slamming mine so I gasped and wrapped my legs around him, hooking my ankles behind his back, opening myself so that every thrust was a burst of pleasure.

The friction on my clit drove me to the edge fast and when the first orgasm slammed me, I bit his ear lobe. Stephen groaned, burying his face in my neck, whispering, ‘Stay.’

‘Make me come again,’ I demanded, changing the subject.

His mouth was hot and greedy on the swell of my breast and he licked a slippery fiery line along my cleavage. He had a handle on me now – what got me off – and his teeth weren’t gentle on my nipples. He plucked and pulled and bit each one into tortured attention before licking them with his flattened tongue to soothe the throb.

I tightened my internal muscles around him and he growled. It was all done for, and we both knew it, when he shoved my knees high and watched himself fucking me: the air in the room felt too thin. He watched every thrust and then pressed his rough thumb to my clit, I came with a sharp cry and a thrust of my hips.

‘Farrell.’ He said it again when he came.

I knew I had to go.

I heard the clapping when I hit the street.

It had taken a lot to insist that Stephen stay and let me go home alone. I had a job to get to in the morning, I said. You’re already all naked and cosy, I said. Please, I’m getting used to this independence and new life and I just need to go, I said.

Finally, he’d agreed, but I could tell he wasn’t happy.

The truth was, if I let Stephen – of the grey eyes and the whispered ‘Farrells’ – walk me out, I’d end up kissing him. I’d end up wanting him again. I’d end up coming back into his home or taking him to mine and the resolve would be shattered into a million little pieces.

So I kissed him, promised we’d get together soon and left.

I turned to the sound, steeling myself. I could feel my back go up like an irate cat. I knew who it would be. There was only one person it could be.