Naughty Neighbors (6 page)

“She’s attractive, Kara,” Zak said, a note of seriousness in his voice. “But she isn’t striking. She doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She patted his arm and returned to the sofa.

He pointed to the half-square between them before he took his seat. “My compliment earned another few inches of favor?”

“Something like that.” She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees, and flattened her palms against her warm cheeks. “Who knows what that dumb nineteen year old girl was thinking back then.”

He shifted his weight and bent his knee, turning inward. “Why don’t you try and explain it.”

“I can’t even begin to put those emotions or actions into words. I was scared, I guess. Kemper had begun to talk about how he wanted a committed relationship. He wanted to collar me and I—”

“Collar?” Dark shadows encased Zak’s much darker eyes. “I never would’ve thought you were in the lifestyle.”

“I’m not. That’s why I ran.” She glanced at the photos on her mantel again. “Only, I didn’t really run. I just turned to my best friend for advice and look what happened.”

“You ran right into the arms of an awaiting friend ready to take your dominant boyfriend right off your hands.”

“How’d you guess?”

“History is unfolding as we speak.”

“Don’t remind me,” she said, leaping to her feet again. “Drink up. I have another one on ice for you.”

She wanted to table all these distorted emotions. She felt like a young girl holding a four-leaf clover in her hand chanting, “I love him. I love him not.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Zak arched a brow and gave her a look that left chill bumps rushing up and down her arms.

“You caught me.” She shot him a smile and a wink before she reentered the kitchen.

When she returned, she twisted off the cap and handed over his beverage. They locked in this knowing gaze, a challenge of sorts.

“Sit.” The lone word resounded like a demand, a commanding order he expected her to follow.

She complied and immediately turned to him. “Do you think I made a mistake?”

“No,” he replied. “If you weren’t ready for the lifestyle, you shouldn’t have been forced into it and it sounds like your boyfriend—”

“Ex...He’s my ex-boyfriend now.” And for some reason, it seemed natural to call him out as an ex. Had she already begun to accept the fact that she no longer had a place in Kemper’s life?

If so, she had to hand herself props. She could mend a broken heart quicker than Kemper and Carly had said, “I do.”

“That’s pretty much a given if the news is correct.” He paused before he added, “Then again, this marriage thing may be a sham. Perhaps your friend is pregnant or maybe they just decided to tie the knot on a whim. Who knows why they decided to get hitched without telling you, but you can bet your money on one thing, Kara. The story relayed on television probably isn’t the same one you’ll hear.”

“You’re pretty smart for an old guy.”

Was she flirting? Damn right. She fluttered her eyelashes just to make sure.

“And you, my dear, are every man’s dream,” he said, laughing. “Go on and finish your story. We old guys turn in early.”

“I wouldn’t count on that tonight.”

Yep, she was flirting all right. And all things considered? It felt damn good, too. In fact, if conversation continued to progress nicely, she might just keep Mr. Zak Stone up all night.

Seven

Zak seemingly hung on her every word while she explained the intricate details of her relationship with Kemper. When she finished, she said, “Well there you have it. My life in ruins.”

“Your life is hardly ruined at twenty-two, honey,” Zak said, setting his bottle on the table. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t tell too many people about how you and Kemper shared Carly.”

“You have that backwards.”

“My point exactly. No one will buy the fact that you and Carly didn’t work out this arrangement without ulterior motives.”

She blinked. “You mean like I wanted Carly as much as I wanted Kemper?”

“Did you?”

“God no.” She laughed aloud. “I mean, to each his or her own, but the two of us together?” She shook her head. “Ain’t happening in this lifetime. I grew up with her. We’re like sisters. I’ve known her since I was like five.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Not in my world,” she assured him, trying to ignore the feelings of betrayal. How could Carly deceive her like this? How could Kemper call her after the game, assure her that he missed her, then make off like a bandit and steal away with her best friend and any dignity Kara hoped to have in the future?

“Want me to go get that package for you before I leave?”

“Leave? I was ready to suggest a drinking game.”

“Young lady, you are definitely a woman after a man’s heart.”

“Don’t do that.” Kara said, her chest tightening in knots.

Nearly diabolical in his moves, he reached out and locked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What don’t you want me to do, Kara?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “For starters, I don’t want you to go.” Dragging her fingers across her brow she closed her eyes and steadied her runaway thoughts.

What was going through her foggy mind at that very moment? Why was she practically begging him to stay? She had all but turned him away at the door a few hours before, but now she had this strong suspicion she’d end up lying in his arms before the night was over.

“Kara.” His voice yanked her from a full-fledged in-the-moment analysis.

Her eyes popped open and she gazed at the beautiful man staring back at her. Oh God. She was a wreck.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” she lied. “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I’m sure you have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Actually, I do,” he said, chuckling. “I might go for a three-mile run instead of the usual two.”

“What do you do for a living, Zak?”

“This and that,” he replied, obviously very guarded.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I probably won’t,” he assured her.

“Is it illegal?”

“Definitely.”

“Scandalous?” she asked, resting her hand in the curve of her waist and cocking her head to the side.

“Shameful, in fact.”

“Dangerous?”

“James Bond pales in comparison.”

She snickered. “You’re so bad.”

“Honey, if you only knew the truth.” He thumbed the hallway behind them. “Let me grab that package.”

He disappeared and she adjusted the already low—but not low enough—neckline of her top. Pushing up her boobs with her forearms, she tried to fight her growing need for revenge, but the effort proved pointless.

Zak was witty and fun to be around. He was older and more mature. He made her laugh and that was saying a lot considering her best friend and boyfriend were probably under the impression she would drown her sorrows all alone.

“He’s exactly what I need on a night like tonight.”

“Who is?” Zak asked, reentering the room cautiously. He acted as if he had interrupted a conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear.

In fact, he wasn’t supposed to hear.

She grabbed a small rectangular pillow and slapped it against her face. “See what happens when I’m left alone? I resort to talking to myself!”

Zak set the box at her feet. “Want me to wait and see if there are explosives inside?”

“Very funny. Ha. Ha.”

He winked. “I’ll take that as my hint to go, then.”

Before he escaped—and that’s how she would’ve viewed his exit if he in fact had walked away right then—she grabbed his forearm. “Would you wait until I see what’s inside?”

“Can I twist your arm for another beer?” His hooded gaze swept across her chest again.

Zak was definitely a breast man. He hadn’t stopped ogling her since he’d discovered she was a jilted woman.

“Keep looking at me like that and we may end up swapping favors before the night is over.”

~ * ~

Swapping favors was exactly what Zak fantasized about more often than not. Neighbors for nearly two years, he and Kara had enjoyed friendly banter here or there, but nothing like this.

After Kara handed over another ice-cold beer, she excused herself and went upstairs to put on something a little more comfortable. Zak’s mind went on a quick vacation. Touring the limitless possibilities of a rendezvous in various locales, his gaze swept by each and every destination—the kitchen counter, the rectangular kitchen table near said counter, the sofa, an oversized ottoman, and finally the floor.

His cock throbbed as he considered how he might take her, how he’d splay and secure her arms or spread and shackle her legs. He ran his palm down the length of his face and cursed under his breath. Considering what she’d said about the lifestyle, it was probably safe to assume he could shelf the fictitious props. “I’ve lost my ever loving mind.”

“Well that makes two of us,” she said, bouncing—and there was really no other way to define her entry—back into the room. Those boobs were moving just enough to hold his attention.

Wearing white shorts that cradled her bottom and a snug gray sweatshirt with faded blue lettering, Kara knelt next to the box with a pair of scissors in hand. Before she sliced the tape down the middle, she glanced up at him. Right then and there, he could’ve spewed all sorts of profanity. The red tint to her brown hair shimmered like gold. A gentle curl cupped her small chin and those eyes were daunting, daring him to make his move.

He was captivated, yet smart enough to know better than to play his hand. She had, after all, teased him about his age.

As she coddled him with her eyes—teased him really—he made a gutsy move and deliberately lowered his gaze, held it at her nipples. He took specific note of those fine diamond-shaped points pressing against her sweatshirt.

“Hello.” She waved her hand in front of his face. “Do I still have your attention?”

“Do you want it?” He asked the question before he thought of the consequences of a reply.

She immediately blushed.

“Don’t answer that,” he quickly told her in an effort to give her an out. “And if you think this gift will be something personal, I can turn my head the other way.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on now. Please. I’ve just told you my
adult
life story.”

Kara opened the box and peered inside. Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned bright red. Given her expression, Zak believed there was a whole lot of story left to tell and a few blank pages they could fill.

Eight

Back in Los Angeles, Kemper and Carly boarded Kemper’s private jet at around nine-thirty pacific time. After multiple attempts to reach Kara failed, Kemper was frantic and Carly was at her wit’s end.

Thanks to the mounting stress and the paparazzi following them from their hotel to the airport, they’d been snappy with one another. By all accounts, they were approaching a real knock-down-drag-out, spare no punches kind of argument.

“This is your fault,” Carly bit out, yanking at her seatbelt and growing more and more frustrated as she fought to free the strap caught between the seat and leather back sofa. “And why in the bloody hell do we have to use these damn things during takeoff when we both know they’ll come off as soon as we’re in the air?”

“Let me help you,” Kemper said gently.

Smacking his hands away, she shook her head and defied those tears already pooling in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t need your help right now, Kemper. Kara knows. I feel it in my gut. She knows or she would’ve responded to your texts. If not yours, she would’ve at least sent me one of her notorious “Fuck off” messages.”

“I thought of that, too.”

“Praise be, the man actually has a brain and it functions under pressure after all.”

“That was an ugly thing to say, Carly,” Kemper said, grabbing a sports magazine from the nearby bookcase.

“I just can’t stand this. What if she does something crazy?”

“She won’t.” Kemper raised then lowered his periodical. “What do you want me to do? You tried to call friends. No one answered. I don’t have anyone I can call in Cincinnati and if I did, I’d be rather embarrassed to use professional contacts. I can hear that conversation now. ‘Would you mind going to check on my girlfriend and reassuring her that I didn’t marry my other girlfriend? Oh and while you’re at it, please tell her we’re on our way now so she can rest easy.’ How would that look, Carly?”

“Will you ever stop worrying about appearances?” she asked, finally snapping her seatbelt in place. “I mean, this could’ve been avoided. All you had to do was admit to the press that you were involved with both of us. Then they would’ve backed off.”

“It’s none of their business.” Kemper lifted the magazine in front of his face again.

“No?” Carly slapped her hand across his and removed his reading material and her distraction. “When you make millions per year working in the public eye, you sort of sign on for this kind of thing.”

“Says who?” Kemper’s gaze darkened. “You? The other women out there who want a little notoriety for sleeping with an athlete?” He snarled. “Do you really think it’s all that great living in front of a snapping camera? It’s not, baby. I swear, it isn’t.

“I can’t go to bed at night without setting the alarm and making sure the front gates are secure. If I do, some quack might take it upon himself to let himself in, wander around my estate, and hell, I don’t know, maybe even go skinny dipping in my damn pool!”

That very occurrence happened right after Kemper purchased his ten million dollar compound outside of Houston.

“Do you think I like working out in front of the camera? Or pushing my way through a throng of photographers when my life has just become front page news? No, baby. When I signed on for this career, I didn’t agree to let anyone and everyone enter my life at will. I wanted to play football. That’s all!”

Carly crossed her arms. “Are you done?”

“I’m just getting warmed up.”

The loud ding resounded and the pilot said, “Mr. Kapertone, we’re all clear for takeoff. Let us know if you need anything.”