The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity (2 page)

“…house.” he finishes, his voice nearly silent as he mouths the word like it’s a kiss.

My half-open lips quiver as I try to snatch that word from the air. Who knew the word
house
from this man’s mouth could be such a turn on? When I realize how desperate I must look, I bite my lower lip. I also lock my knees together for good measure. Otherwise I’m going to jump into his arms and beg him to do whatever he wants to me right here on the front porch.

In full view of the neighbors.

His eyes trap mine.

I can’t look away.

His are dark brown with a fiery ring around the deep black pupil. They are literally enchanting.

I know because I’m losing my mind and all control over my body as my heartbeat throbs in my nipples and between my legs. I am one hot throbbing… gulp.

Yup. This is it. This is the moment when I tell the sexy evil vampire he can
come inside
my house and do whatever the heck he wants with me. I’m game. I open my mouth to speak. “Yuh—”

“Chastity? Who’s this?” Mom barks behind me.

Every muscle in my body tenses as motherly guilt stomps all over the arousal coursing through me. Geez, how long was she standing there watching? One thing’s for sure: having sinfully sexy thoughts about sexy vampire Lance with my mom standing right behind me makes my nipples shrivel.

“Is this your sister?” Lance blurts.

“No,” I grumble. “She’s my mom.”

Way to ruin the moment, Mom.

++++8++++

LANCE

Score!

Fine Ass Chastity’s mom is as hot as she is. Total MILF.

I can’t decide who’s hotter, Chastity or the mom.

“Do I know you?” the mom asks, her face all hard like she’s tough. I bet she’s a bitch in bed.

Me like. “Not yet…” I say it like the next thing she’s gonna get to know is my dick.

The mom is a slightly older but equally hot version of Chastity.

Fuck, I’m hard for both of them.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Mrs. Schneider and her blistering hot daughter Kayla back in Vegas would blow your mind. And your dick. They did mine.

The mom frowns at me, totally checking me out.

Damn, I bet this is the hot bitch face she makes when she comes. I can’t wait to find out if I’m right. I ask, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Mrs. Shields,” the mom says, emphasizing the Mrs. part like I should show her some respect.

I ignore it and cock my chin at her like I would with any random babe I want to bone. “Lance.”

She glances over at the U-Haul. “Are you renting the house?”

“Yeah.”

“Just you? You seem terribly young.”

I sigh, “My dad’s around here some fucking place. Probably moving shit in already.”

Silence.

The two of them look like I just dropped a flaming bag of shit on their doorstep.

“Pardon me?” Mom has that bitch thing going again. She puts her hands on her hips, which are housed in the hottest mom jeans I’ve ever seen. If she thinks they’re gonna hide what she’s got, she’s fooling herself. She stares at me like nobody says no to her.

Am I missing something? I glance between them. “What?”

Mrs. Uptight Panty Shields glares, “Please don’t curse in front of me or my daughter.”

I snort. Is she serious? I’m gonna be doing a lot more than
saying
fuck to these two soon enough.

“Mom…” Chastity whines.

“Cool it,” Panty Shields barks at Chastity.

Chastity rolls her eyes like she’s heard this noise a thousand times before and she’s sick of it.

If I was Mom’s daughter, I would be too. But I’m not. I just wanna fuck the both of them. “Yeah, whatever. What do you want me to do with Chastity’s…
box
?” I wink at Chastity, holding up the cake.

Chastity’s eyes blow up the size of soccer balls.

“I’ll take it,” Mom grumbles, trying to pull the box out of my hands.

“I’ve got it,” I say calmly, holding on. “I’ll bring it inside for you. Where do you want me to… Put. It.” We all know which IT I’m talking about. And where.

Mrs. Shields’ slits her eyes and tips her head to the side. She’s acting like she doesn’t know what I just said, but she knows. It’s all over her fuck me harder face. She totally wants my IT. She snarls, in a hot way, “Please hand me the cake, young man.”

“Stop being such a fuckwit, Lance—” Dad suddenly growls behind me. “—and let go of her box.”

I repress a laugh. There’s no way I’m ever letting go of Panty Shields’ pink box. Not till I’m done with it. And I never do anything Dad says when he’s sauced, on principle. Besides, I’m sure he noticed these two honeys were hotties the second he laid eyes on them and rushed over here to make his own play. It’s not like all the booze broke his dick.

“Give it to her, Lance,” Dad grunts.

Now I do snicker out loud. He better believe I’m gonna give it to her. Why did he have to show up now? Right when I’m getting my game on? Pain in my ass is what he is.

Mrs. Shields gasps and folds her arms over her frilly no-cut top. No-cut, as in zero cleavage showing. You can barely even see neck. Are you surprised? I’m not. But I’m dying to see what she’s hiding. If her cans are anything like the ones filling out Chastity’s T-shirt… fuck. Boob heaven.

“I said give it to her, Lance,” Dad growls.

Chastity snorts and sneaks a smile in my direction. She’s wise to the comedy.

I wink at her. Something tells me I might have to make a choice between her or her mom. They don’t look like best buds. Or I can do them one at a time. Whatever works.

My dad stares at Mrs. Shields, a blurry smile on his face. He holds out his hand to shake hers. “I’m Rod McKnight. You can call me Rod.”

What a tool. I can tell his whiskey courage is making him think he’s George Clooney or some shit when he’s
all
Adam Sandler. Dad never passes up a chance to wreck my game. But he’s gonna have to try a lot harder than that.

Mrs. Shields smiles at Dad like it hurts. “Faith Shields. Pleased to meet you, Rod.” She shakes his hand like it’s dirty.

Man, she is a
total
fucking bitch. I love it. Do I
have
to pick between her or the daughter?

She looks at me and Dad thoughtfully. “I detect a family resemblance between you two. Rod, are you Lance’s—”

“Dad?” Dad throws an arm around my neck and yanks me against his side. “Damn right I am.” He spews booze breath in my face.

I wince, trying not to gag. I’ve been to town dumps that smell fresher than him.

“Rod,” the mom says, “Can I ask that you watch your language in front of my daughter and I?”

“Sorry, what?” He’s clueless. As always.

Mrs. Shields laughs nervously. “It’s just that we’re not used to that kind of four-letter talk around our house.”

Dad frowns like the clown that he is. “Oh. Sorry. I guess I’m a little rough around the edges with strangers. Won’t happen again.”

What a pussy. And he wonders why I don’t respect him.

“I completely understand,” Mrs. Shields says to Dad, beaming at him and running her fingers through her hair and tossing it like she’s Farrah Fawcett or Jessica Simpson or some shit.

What…
the
FUCK? She did not just do that. My eyes volley between her and Dad.

Oh shit.

They’re
in
to each other.

Why, I have no fucking idea. Maybe Panty Shields sees something about him I don’t. But no doubt Dad can tell Panty Shields is a hot fucking bitch.

Fuck.

I toss a look at Chastity.

She grabs it out of the air like a love sick puppy.

She’s gonna be easier to bag than I thought.

Maybe it’s time I cut bait with the mom and focus on stealing Chastity’s V-card. Her eyes might scream DTF, but you know an uptight girl like her still has her cherry. I’ll make sure to break her in easy and let her down just as soft. By the time I’m done with her, she’ll think she’s the one breaking up with me.

I glance over at Mrs. Shields who is busy flipping her hair like she’s ready to drop her dress.

Who am I kidding?

I want Chastity
and
the mom.

Just to piss off Dad.

Together or separate doesn’t matter. But I’m gonna bag ’em both.

Game on.

Chapter 2

CHASTITY

“Would you two like help moving in?” Mom asks Lance’s dad. “I’m sure my daughters and I could lend you a hand.”

“We can handle it,” Rod says confidently.

“It’s no bother,” she titters.

What the heck? I can’t believe my eyes. Mom is
flirting
. Mom does not flirt. Ever. I thought she’d sworn off men after she and Dad got divorced. Then again, Rod McKnight looks like an older version of Lance. The only difference between them is the sprinkle of grey in Mr. McKnight’s equally unruly dark hair, and his minimal wrinkles (which of course look good on him). Like father, like son. This is bad. Don’t ask me how I know, but I know.

Mom says, “I’m sure you two men are more than capable of handling… things, but as the Good Book says, do unto others as you would have them do unto you…”

Oh. My. Gag.

I’ll bet she’d like Mr. McKnight to do unto her.

Mom has never
been this shameless. Yes, Lance’s dad is almost as sexy as he is. But seriously, I can’t believe the man is wearing a wife-beater. I want to say:
Hello! Mom! What about Mr. McKnight says upstanding or God fearing? He’s probably never set foot inside a church! And whatever happened to sins of the flesh? You’re openly lusting after him!

The look in her eyes says she’s lost all sense. She giggles. Yes, giggles. Mom does
not
giggle. “I imagine you two had a long drive. Can I offer you something cold to drink?” Her index finger twirls absently through a strand of her blonde hair.

“We just came from Vegas,” Lance says impatiently. “It was only four hours. We’re fine.”

“Never mind that,” Mom says. “You need to stay hydrated if you’re going to be moving furniture all day. Come inside, I’ll fix you men a drink.”

Men? Oh, boy. Mom has lost her mind.

And like that, she gives the father-and-son sexy vampires permission to come into our house. We all know disaster is soon to follow.

Standing in the kitchen, Mom whips up a batch of ice water with two kinds of fruit. As always, everything has to be perfect. She gets out the good crystal pitcher for the hunky men like she’s throwing an impromptu garden party for the ladies from church. That move is
so
Mom. I doubt Rod and Lance care what sort of pitcher she uses. No, she couldn’t just fill two glasses under the tap and drop a few ice cubes in. Not Mom.

Her eyes are glued to Mr. McKnight as she chops fresh basil. “The secret with basil is that you have to crumple it to release the flavor. Without it, the strawberries and lemon don’t quite live up to their potential.”

No wonder she went for the flavored water. It means more time for her to flirt. I roll my eyes and grumble. This is nauseating.

Mom pours two glasses of fruit flavored water and hands them to the men.

“Thanks,” Rod takes a swallow. “This is terrific. Whaddya think, Lance?”

Lance gulps down the entire glass. “Damn good.”

“Careful, son. Mrs. Shields here—”

“Faith. Call me Faith.” Mom beams like it’s prom night.

Rod raises his glass like he’s toasting. “Faith it is. Like I was saying, son, Faith here doesn’t want language like that. You think maybe you could keep it PG while we’re in their house?”

“Pee
Gee
?” Lance snorts. “You’re kidding, right?”

Rod gives him a look. “Let’s just keep it clean, okay?”

Lance scowls at him, but it’s the cutest scowl I’ve ever seen.

Mom says, “And speaking of PG,” she turns to me and eyes my shirt, “could you please change into something more… appropriate?”

“What are you talking about?” I blurt, instantly defensive.
What is inappropriate about a V-neck shirt and cutoff shorts over a bathing suit?

“I can see your…” She can’t bring herself to say it but I know what she means.

My bikini top. It’s vaguely visible through my white shirt. It’s not like it’s a bra. I swear, Mom is living in the 16th century. I want to say:
Are you serious? It’s a frickin’ bathing suit!
But this is my mom we’re talking about, which means I can’t say
frick
in the house, and yes, she’s completely serious. I glare at her.

“Where did you get that swimsuit, anyway? I don’t remember buying it for you.” Mom has radar when it comes to rule breaking.

That’s because she didn’t. I bought it last week with my own money because it was on sale at Mermaid Mafia when I went there with Lark and it was the last one and it fit me perfectly. I guess I should’ve kept it under wraps until tomorrow at the pool party when I’ll be eighteen and she can’t say anything. Well, she would totally say something, but she wouldn’t be able to stop me from wearing it.

She waves her hand. “It doesn’t matter where it came from. We have guests.”

I hate it when she does this. Eighteen can’t come soon enough. It was bad enough she had to approve everything I wore all through high school, but it’s summer and I graduated and I should be allowed to wear whatever I want. “Mom…” I groan.

“Please go change.” It’s an order.

“What do you want me to wear? A turtle neck?! It’s boiling hot outside!”

“Don’t get defiant with me, young lady.” Wow, way to make me sound like I’m twelve. “I will not tolerate your—”

“Fine! I’ll put a jacket on. And a scarf. If I die of heat stroke, it’ll be all your fault.”

She smiles politely. “Don’t be flip, Chastity.”

I feel my face quivering like I’m going to explode. If we didn’t have guests, we’d be screaming at each other. Like always. But I don’t want to look like a brat in front of Lance, so I rein it in. “Then don’t make me dress like a nun,” I grumble.

“I’m not making you dress like a nun.” She smiles like we’re old friends exchanging sewing tips.

What a laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.” I barge past her.

I am
so
embarrassed right now. I can’t believe she started lecturing me in front of Lance. Then again, I can’t believe I lost it like a child. Tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday for heaven’s sake. After that exchange, Lance probably thinks it’s my eighth birthday.