Naughty Neighbors (7 page)

He pushed the royal blue button overhead. “We’re all set back here, Stan.”

When the bell resounded again, Kemper relaxed his neck against the headrest. He caressed her arm before taking her hand in his. “I don’t want to argue with you, gorgeous.”

She sniffed. “I don’t want to fight with you either.”

“We’re fighting?”

She shrugged. “Felt like it to me.”

“Good,” he said, leaning over the armrest and brushing her lips with a quick kiss. “Once we’re up in the air, what you say we make up?”

“What kind of apology did you have in mind?”

He winked. “I’ll surprise you.”

An unexplainable mountain of guilt washed over her. Even though she and Kemper hadn’t deliberately tried to hurt Kara, she couldn’t shake the feeling that their actions in public caused all of the commotion.

As if reading her thoughts, Kemper said, “We can’t do anything to help ease Kara’s mind now. We’ll be on the ground in Cincinnati in a few hours. Once we land, we’ll go straight to her condo. Then, we’ll convince her that neither one of us would ever do anything to hurt her.”

“And then what?” Carly wrung her hands. “I mean, how long has it been since the three of us have been in the same city—let alone the same dwelling—at the same time?”

Kemper looked stumped. “I don’t know. A couple of years maybe? What’s your point? Is there a problem?”

Carly eyed the broad wing of the plane, opening up with the wind’s force as they charged down the runway. “I don’t think it will be as easy as it once was.”

“Why would you say that?” Concern marked Kemper’s furrowed brows. “You and Kara see one another often. You talk daily on the phone. The two of you together could give a guy a complex.”

“Yes, but I love you,” she blurted out.

“I would hope so.” His frown diminished. “I’d hate to think you were just using me for sex.”

She laughed. “Why is it that all rich men think women are after them for the mind-blowing sex?”

“Aren’t you?”

“The sex is only a small perk. I’m after your money and fame,” she teased, shooting him a wink and trying to lighten the mood she’d soured. “And don’t you forget it.”

Stretching his legs out, he clasped his fingers and tucked his hands behind his head. “It’s not something I can easily dismiss when I receive all the credit card statements at the first of the month.”

“You are so tight you squeak,” she complained.

“Take a nap. Once we’re out of this turbulence, I’ll show you what’s tight.”

“Hmm,” she purred. “Now I know why I love you.”

He opened one eye. “Why’s that?”

“You talk dirty to me better than any man I know.”

“I better be the only man giving you naughty ideas.”

“You are,” she whispered, dismissing her silly apprehension about the three of them being together again. She and Kara were on the same page. The relationship they’d each formed with Kemper worked well for their lifestyles. Sighing then, she softly added, “You’re the only one for me, Kemper.”

He gave her a funny little look, one she translated without difficulty. He sure couldn’t say the same, but she didn’t resent him because of the fact.

How could she hold their modernized relationship against him when she had fully understood the terms of their intimate association by signing on to share him with her best friend? She couldn’t, especially since Kara loved him first.

Nine

“Apparently, I was wrong,” Kara said, rummaging through the box of adult toys and BDSM gear. “I guess I haven’t been humiliated enough for one night.”

She pulled out a slender box housing a butt plug described as a smooth granite stone, a dildo with an impressive thick head, and a pair of handcuffs. “Apparently, I needed an audience, a good round of applause, maybe even a standing ovation...” Her voice trailed as she continued unpacking the goodies. “And oh yes, let’s not forget the grand finale.” She tossed aside a flogger, a paddle, and a spreader bar before dumping out the bubble wrap in the center of her living room.

A double-thump resounded. Zak turned his full attention to the boxed kit of intimate accessories and case of vibrators. Kara plucked the larger container from the floor and held it in front of her body, studying the selection with wide eyes. She took a moment and read the fine print. The rapid movement of lips sort of gave her away.

Meeting his gaze, she burst out laughing and he joined in right away, glad to release the muffled chuckles he had tried to play off as a strangled cough. When the laughter subsided, he halfway expected her to cry. Instead, she looked at him as if she were expecting him to explain away these things, or perhaps suggest he teach her how to play with a sadist’s toys.

And without a doubt, Kemper Kapertone was a sadist.

What kind of man stole away with a girl’s best friend, made her believe he needed two women while suggesting she remain loyal only to him, then married the best friend without so much as a Dear Jane letter or virtual e-kiss goodbye?

Then again, maybe this gift was his final kiss. If so, Zak had to give the guy credit. He reached an all-time low by sending a parting gift full of a submissive woman’s treasures, yet he wasn’t planning to stick around and provide the necessary instructions.

It occurred to Zak then. Perhaps Kapertone planned to keep Kara on the side. Maybe he thought he could have his beer and drink it, too.

Zak moistened his lips at the thought. Hadn’t he planned the same? Hadn’t he drank the woman’s booze, spent a little time with her, and now felt he should be the one to help her mend a broken heart?

“That was one hell of an encore,” Zak said, eyeing the flogger. He was itching to ask her if she’d ever experimented with light bondage or Domination and submission. They’d briefly discussed the collar episode and he’d formed his own opinions. Perhaps he’d been wrong. Maybe she wasn’t as sweet and innocent as she had tried to portray.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“Trust me when I tell you, Kara. You have
no
idea what I’m thinking,” Zak said, aware of his dominant beast surfacing. That unsettling need gnawed at his gut, challenging him with a stroke of temptation at the most inopportune moment.

Timing was everything. Making his move on a young woman who was twenty-seven years his junior
and
going through an emotional tailspin after an unexpected separation from her boyfriend
and
her best friend made him feel like he was taking advantage of a situation. Then again, he was a man. Wouldn’t most men in his predicament grab opportunity by the horns?

Squatting next to the coffee table, she scooped up a few items, all of which were neatly boxed in their appropriate containers, with the exception of the handcuffs. She tucked a long, slender object under her arm and gathered a few more items before shooting him a saucy smile. “Would you mind?”

“To?” He was leading her. Or was she leading him? God help him, he didn’t know who was stringing whom along at this point.

“Come on, Zak. We’ve known one another for a couple of years. We’ve enjoyed a little conversation, some good wine and beer, and now I’m asking you to help carry my sex toys upstairs. It’s really not that big of a deal. Is it?”

The ball was back in his court.
Damn.
This woman was good.

She walked out of the den and paused in the hallway. She turned and faced him with a downright seductive stare. From her hooded eyes to her moistened lips and flushed skin, Kara knew what she was doing. Young or not, she was playing the old guy for all he was worth and Zak was falling for it, hook and towed line.

“I’m right behind you,” he said, reminding himself of the times he’d laid in bed and listened to the vibrating walls. Correction. When Kara and Kemper were on the other side of said walls, they thumped. How many times had he watched Kemper Kapertone arrive in a limousine with a bouquet of white roses—apparently Kara’s favorite—and how often had he heard them fuck soon after?

Kara was a screamer, too. He knew that much. His cock jumped into action as soon as his mind tricked him into believing she could strain those pipes just as enthusiastically for him as she once had for Kemper.

He knelt to the floor and picked up the kind of toys that made a grown man twitch in his jeans. The grown man wasn’t necessarily what Zak was concerned about. Oh no. It was the Dom he had to try and taper. At the moment, the effort was a lost cause. All he could do was fantasize about seeing his willing little sub gagged and bound on bended knees.

“Now who’s the sadist,” he grumbled, gathering a few more items.

“Are you coming?”

“Not yet,” he muttered, realizing it wouldn’t take much. As controlled as he’d been in the past, he had a feeling training Kara wouldn’t be like schooling any other submissive he’d led to his bed. Oh no, she’d be a real vixen, a real joy to please and a pleasure to punish, but he was out of practice. In recent years, when he’d taken a sub to bed, she’d been fully trained.

All he could think about then was following his sexy little neighbor into her bedroom and closing the door behind them. Then, he’d make her pay for all the nights he’d spent alone listening to her fuck a man who didn’t appreciate her, but first, he wanted to torture her with longing. He wanted to make her fully understand that because of her, he had known lust. He had an intimate understanding of insatiable need.

Then he would share his fantasies. He’d tell her how many times he’d imagined his dick impaling her, his headboard banging against the wall, and his name spieling from her lips as he fucked her all night long.

Pausing outside her bedroom door, he pressed his head against the wall and waited for an invitation. He couldn’t go in there and visit the very room where she’d awarded her innocence to Kapertone like a prize, a reward he hadn’t earned, a trophy he hadn’t deserved.

His dick pulsed at a distant memory. He was quite certain he had witnessed that occasion through very thin walls.

God he was going mad. He stood there imagining all the wild and kinky sex she’d had in that very room, the very bed where he, too, would soon take her. Where he would ravage her in a way she wouldn’t soon forget.

He wanted her body, that was irrefutable, but he longed to earn his place in her heart, too. There was no way he’d even start seducing her unless he was sure she and Kemper Kapertone were finished, but how could he be so sure when they technically hadn’t even broken things off?

Stepping inside her bedroom, he set her new trinkets on a small table located right inside her door. “I’d better get going. I have a long day tomorrow.”

“You never told me what you do for a living,” she said, glancing away from her new gifts.

“I’m a gambler, Kara,” he replied sternly. For some reason, he now felt he owed her the truth.

“My daddy was a gambler.” She smiled sheepishly. “But you’re not just an ordinary gambler. Are you?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. I’d know a bookie anywhere.”

“I’m a businessman,” he assured her.

“Are you in the business of fooling around with younger women?” she asked, working a strut like he’d never seen before. Leaning over to pick up the handcuffs she’d deliberately—and obviously—dropped, she wiggled her behind.

He swore under his breath, wishing he could set aside his morals for one night and take her in his arms and hold her there until he taught her a few things about Domination and submission. He’d show her why a Dominant man needed a submissive woman. He’d teach her how to willingly submit and make her understand that through her submission, she would know empowerment. She would experience a new level of intimacy.

“I’ve only been with Kemper,” she told him, acting as if her revelation was the best news he’d received in over a decade.

In fact, he would’ve preferred it then if she’d confessed to promiscuous behavior.

“You’re hurting,” he reminded her, reading entirely too much into her confession. “I’m here and you have a wounded heart, a torn soul. I can’t heal you, Kara.”

How did he tell her he didn’t want to heal her? How did he explain that while he wanted to kiss it and make it better,
curing her
wasn’t on his mind? He wanted to claim her, and if he claimed her, he fully intended to keep her.

How did a man tell a woman
that
?

She took a step toward him. He took one step back. She shot him this funny little look, crossed her arms, and for a minute, he could’ve sworn she was about to strip her shirt over her head.

He willed her to stop even though his body already had reached a decision, drawn all conclusions.

One touch and she was his. One gesture to indicate she fully intended to invite him to stay and he would give in to the long awaited temptation, the attraction he could not deny.

She moved toward him again, taking three short calculated steps as if she had deliberately analyzed the best way to separate their distance just as she’d done earlier when they’d been downstairs on her sofa.

“I can’t take his place, Kara. I can’t make the hurt go away.”

“You can try.”

Ten

Maybe he looked at her and saw somebody’s daughter, but she wanted to be his little whore. She could seduce him even if he let her go at the end of the night. After everything she’d endured, she wouldn’t care if he left after the fucking was over, but there was no doubt in her mind.

She wanted wild crazy sex, but first she wanted to play. She needed to feel that hard bulge in his slacks puncturing against her panties, making her wet, driving her crazy, and well beyond the point of no return.

The longing existed in his eyes. The thickness in his slacks wasn’t anything he could deny and if he didn’t want her, wouldn’t he have already turned and walked away?

Instead, he gaped at her as if he could undress her with his eyes, as if he had already fucked her a hundred different ways on the other side of Sunday and well beyond one passionate night.