Opposites Attract (The Locklaine Boys Book 2) (6 page)

Devon patted my shoulder. “Pretty sure you’d be kicked out seeing as your half-Jewish. But hey, look on the bright side. At least you got a couple world-class orgasms out of it before swearing off peen for the rest of your life.”

I glared. “You’re such a—” My words were cut off by a loud thud coming from my room. “What the hell was that?”

“No idea,” Devon scowled. We climbed to our feet to go inspect just as two more loud thumps echoed through the space, followed by a loud, feminine squeal.

“Oh, you have
got
to be kidding me!” I cried. The squealing continued, growing even louder so there was no doubt about what was happening in the apartment next door.

“That asshole has the nerve to bitch about our music when he’s having sex with a banshee?” Devon shouted. “Oh, hell no! This ends tonight!”

I looked over at her, concern causing me to frown. “What are you going to do?”

Without a word, she rushed back into the living room, returning seconds later with the Bose sound dock. I watched as she hooked her iPhone up to it and scrolled through her playlist. “That bastard thinks he can have loud sex without repercussions, he’s got another thing coming.” Suddenly, Fall Out Boy’s “My Songs Know What You Did in The Dark” started blaring from the speakers and Devon looked at me with an evil smile and started singing the lyrics at the top of her lungs.

By the time the first chorus started, I’d joined in, jumping up and down on the bed and screaming, “
Light ‘em up, up, up. I’M ON FIRE
!” About halfway though, we’d forgotten the whole purpose of our impromptu sing along and did what we always did when a song we loved started playing. We got lost in the music, singing and dancing for all we were worth.

There was a reason BJ dance parties were so famous in our apartment, after all.

We were only about two minutes in when a sudden pounding on the front door caused us to freeze in place, eyes wide.

“Oh, balls,” Devon gasped, clearly not having thought her revenge plan through all the way. She scrambled for the sound dock and silenced the music. I, however, had just enough booze in my system to make me feel ten feet tall and bullet proof. Side note: tequila and I were a terrible combination. I’d had a shit day, all because of a stupid guy, and I was suddenly in the mood to take my man-hate out on our dick-head of a neighbor by ripping him a new asshole.

I jumped off the bed and charged for the door, Devon hot on my heels. I reached for the knob and jerked it open, shouting, “You’ve got some nerve, you son of a—” My words lodged in my throat when I got a look at the enraged man standing on the other side of the threshold.

I KNEW THE MINUTE
I got her home that I’d made a huge mistake.

Admittedly, I’d been more than a little drunk when I decided on the girl who was going to help me with my little… issue, but the second she started making those weird hyena noises I’d lost my buzz, along any hopes at getting a hard on.

“Oh, yeah!” she cried out as she writhed underneath me. Now, normally a woman panting and moaning like I was a sex God would have been a major boost for my ego. The problem was all we’d done so far was a bit of heavy making out on my bed. And other than the shirt she’d ripped off of me as soon as the door closed (and it was a perfectly good shirt, too), we were still fully clothed.

I did my best to ignore her ear-splitting mewls as I slid my lips down her neck and made the mistake of placing an open-mouth kiss against her skin. She was wearing so much perfume I could actually
taste
it. The bitter flavor coated my tongue, making it impossible to continue on with my seduction. Trying to be as discreet as possible, I turned my head so she wouldn’t see me gag.

Unbeknownst to the fact her perfume just burned off all my taste buds, the woman continued to jerk and twist beneath me, banging my headboard against the wall as she made noises that sounded an awful lot like a cat that just had an unfortunate run-in with a street sweeper… and lost.

Get your head in the game, Locklaine,
I mentally chided, pushing up just enough to pull her shirt over her head.
Okay,
I thought with a smile as I stared down at her abundant rack encased in deep purple lace,
I can work with this
.

“Like what you see?” the woman asked in what I could only assume was supposed to be a seductive voice and not a cringe-inducing, nasally whine. Choosing not to answer in fear it would only make her talk more, I buried my face in her cleavage, only to inhale her noxious perfume and start choking. She began to flail and shout like my near death was pushing her to the brink of orgasm when I was overcome with the sudden urge to jump from the bed and drag the woman whose name I couldn’t remember out the door and slam it in her face.

Why women thought men actually wanted their women to sound like low-quality porn stars was beyond me. I’d rather my partner have a quiet, body-locking orgasm over the fake shit any day. All I needed was to know it was real and that I gave it to her.

I lifted up on my elbow and stared down at the woman in my bed, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that there was no way in hell I’d be able to have sex with her.

“Look,” I started, slowly moving backward just in case things went south when I kindly kicked her out of my bed. “You’re beautiful, but—”

Blaring wails suddenly shot through my bedroom wall. The noise was so loud I actually had to cover my ears. “What the fuck is that?!” I shouted.

“I think…?” The woman’s face scrunched up as she moved up the bed and pressed her ear to the wall, “…it’s Fall Out Boy?” She listened a little longer. “Yep, definitely Fall Out Boy. I actually love this song.”

“That’s it!” I snatched her shirt off the floor and threw it on the bed. “You’ve been great and all, but I’m gonna have to call it a night. As you can see, I have a neighbor to murder. It was nice meeting you though.” Grabbing her by the elbow, I escorted her out of my bed, through my furniture-less living room and out the door. It was a dick thing to do, no doubt about it, but I wanted her out of my apartment just as badly as I wanted to kill the woman next door.

“But… wait,” she stumbled over her words and insanely high heels as she tried to work her clingy top over her head. “I thought—”

I pulled my door closed behind me and looked back at the woman, giving her words I, in no way, shape, or form, meant. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “Promise.”

Nope.
“Yep.” I jabbed the down button over and over until I heard a ding and one set of doors opened. Pushing her in, I gave a little wave and a quick, “Have a good night,” before turning on my bare feet and stomping past my apartment, straight to the door of the woman who’d been a pain in my ass for the past week.

I beat on her front door with my fists hard enough to know she’d hear me over the music.

After a few seconds the door flew open with the sound of angry words flying at me. “You’ve got some nerve, you son of a—”

My jaw dropped as I stared at the woman standing before me, all my rage completely forgotten as I stared into those familiar eyes covered by black-framed glasses. “Delilah?”

“Holy balls!” she shouted as another woman came sliding to a halt directly behind her.

“No fucking way!” the brunette shouts. “
You’re
our douchebag neighbor?”

“
You’re
the women with shit-taste in music and no respect for the people that live around them?” I fired back, suddenly remembering what I was doing on their doorstep in the first place.

“Hey asshole—” the brunette started, but she was interrupted by her tiny roommate who’d just sent her fist flying through the air and directly into my nose.

“YOU CHEATING SON OF A BITCH!” she screeched as I hunched over, cupping my bleeding nose.

“What the hell is your problem, crazy?!” I managed to get out. When I was finally able to stand up, my vision was distorted from the tears forming in my eyes. “Jesus Christ! I think you broke my nose!”

“You deserve worse!” she shouted. “I can’t
believe
you! You have a beautiful fiancée that you’re marrying in
a month,
and you’re screwing sluts in your bachelor pad! You’re disgusting!”

Blinking rapidly to clear the spots from my vision, I looked at Delilah, thinking what a shame it was that someone as adorable as her turned out to be bat-shit crazy. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not engaged!” I pulled my hands away from my nose and looked for blood. “Christ, that hurt. Am I bleeding?” I tipped my head up, trying to stop any potential blood from pouring out.

Her words were clipped, her voice menacing. “You’re not bleeding, you big baby. And I
know
you’re engaged. I’ve met your fiancée. And I met
you
when you came to get her bouquet! Jeez, your memory must be really shitty, huh?” she finished sarcastically.

I lowered my head and glared at the tiny woman in front of me. “Oh, I remember all right. You were a fucking nut job then, too!”

She had the audacity to suck in an affronted gasp. “I am
not
a nut job!”

Choosing to ignore her objection — seeing as a crazy person never admits they’re crazy, I continued on. “I was doing a favor for my
brother’s
fiancée, not
mine
. And I’ll have you know my memory is just fine.”

The brunette still standing in the doorway let out a little snort and muttered what sounded like, “Wouldn’t put money on that, hotshot.”

I turned my glare to her. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” She shrugged and gave me a knowing smile, but before I could press further Delilah spoke up.

“Wait… what do you mean your brother’s fiancée? You’re not engaged to Navie?”

I scowled the best I could, considering I could feel my pulse in my face. “No, psycho. I’m not engaged to Navie. I’m not engaged to anyone.”

Delilah shot her friend a look and the brunette bugged her eyes out and tipped her head to the side in return. It was like they were having a complete conversation with nothing but strange, exaggerated faces before finally remembering that the man one of them had maimed was still standing there.

“Uh…” Delilah wrung her hands in front of her and let out an awkward laugh. “So this is a little embarrassing.”

“You don’t say?” I deadpanned, still pinching the bridge of my nose.

She held her hands out in surrender and had the good grace to look ashamed. “Look, it was all a huge misunderstanding.” Reaching out, she wrapped her fingers around my forearm and, even in my angry state, I couldn’t help but be aware of just how soft her hands were. “If you’ll come in, I’ll get you some ice for your…” she twirled her finger in the general direction on my face and cringed, “…nose.”

I pulled my arm from her hold, leery of walking into the apartment of the woman who’d just gone all Mohammed Ali on my ass for no good reason. For all I knew, I could have been walking straight into a trap.

“You’ve done enough. I’ll get my own ice in the safety of my own apartment, thank you very much.”

I watched as she rolled her eyes dramatically and grumbled something that sounded like “F
or the love of Buddha”
under her breath. She grabbed my arm again, this time, a lot less delicately, and jerked me toward her apartment. “Will you stop being such a baby?”

“You punched me in the face!” I objected even as I followed after her.

“In my defense, I thought you deserved it!”

I narrowed my eyes the best I could, considering I could feel my nose swelling up, as she led me into the living room and shoved me down on the couch. “Speaking as an attorney, that defense wouldn’t count for shit in court.”

The brunette asked, plopping down on the couch, just inches away, and studying my face like I was something under a microscope. “Personally, I think she did you a favor. You were too pretty before.” She waved her hand in front of my face. “This whole rugged, I-get-in-bar-fights-for-fun look is a definite improvement.”

Had I fallen into a twilight zone or something? Never in my life had I been accused of being
too pretty
. “I’m sorry, who are you?” I snapped.

She smiled widely and held her hand out for me to shake. “Devon McMillon. Del and I are roomies and have been besties since we were young enough to still pee our pants on the regular.”