The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity (6 page)

I’m staring at my clock when it clicks over to midnight.

A smile lights up my face.

I’m officially eighteen.

I don’t have to do what Mom says anymore.

I can leave this house whenever I want and never look back.

I sigh.

Charity. I can’t leave her with Mom.

But I’m already making plans about moving out. I’m sure I can find an apartment close by. I just need to find a better job because it’s expensive around here. My part time job at Marble Slab Creamery isn’t gonna cut it. But I’ll figure something out.

I can worry about that tomorrow.

Right now, all I want to think about is Lance.

The house is quiet. Mom won’t barge in here unless there’s a fire or an earthquake. Just to be safe, I lie silently for several minutes, listening.

When I can’t stand it any longer, I squeeze my thighs together and my core quivers pleasantly. I slide a hand under the sheet and drag my fingers across my slick seam, spreading my wetness around before circling my clitoris in slow strokes. I bask in memories of Lance’s naked desire, picturing his burning eyes and that hungry look of his. When he saw me in my bra earlier I desperately wished the house had been empty. If it had, I wouldn’t have covered up. I would’ve let him look. I would’ve let him touch, I would’ve let him do whatever he wanted…

I try to pretend my fingers are Lance’s strong hands. What would it feel like if he was touching me? Would he be rough? Insistent? Demanding? Would it hurt just a little bit, but in a good way? Would he put his thick finger inside me? How deep would he go? Sliding in and out? What would it feel like if
he
was inside me? If he thrust hard and steady and grabbed my hips and squeezed my breasts as he took my virginity and came inside me for the first time?

A kaleidoscope of feelings and images flash through my mind as a warm orgasm drizzles through my body. I bite my lip and stifle a moan as I come, wishing Lance was coming with me.

I breathe shallowly and quietly as the orgasm fades.

Before I know it, I slip into sleep and fall into a dream.

I’m in church. The pews are packed like always. I’m squeezed between Mom and Charity. It’s summer so it’s hot. My church dress is stifling and I’m sweating. Every time I try to fan myself with a thin book of hymns, Mom hisses for me to stop. I’m going to melt in this dress before the sermon is over. The priest is droning on and on at the podium about I don’t know what. I’m not paying attention. I rarely do.

“Are you listening, Chastity?” the priest asks, his voice dark chocolate.

I jump in the pew.

Mom elbows me and hisses, “Sit still.”

“Chastity,” the priest says, “you should really pay attention to the sermon. You might learn something.”

That’s when I look up and realize Lance is the priest. He looks incredibly sexy in a black suit with a dark red tie. I’ve never had a thing for priests. The ones at my church are all old and gray and dull.

I also realize that everyone in church is staring at me.

And I am naked.

What happened to my stifling summer dress?

Lance asks loudly, “Were you thinking about me while you touched yourself in bed last night, Chastity?”

The crowd of parishioners gasps. The old ladies with the hats and the Sunday gloves cover their mouths in shock.

Mom hisses in my ear, “Where’s your dress, Chastity?! You’re naked!”

“I don’t know!”

Lance says, “Perhaps you’d like to confess your sins to the entire congregation?”

My eyes pop. Is he insane?

Lance walks down the steps in front of the altar, heading toward me along the center aisle, his eyes locked on mine. He starts unbuttoning his shirt collar. “If you aren’t ready to confess your sins, perhaps we should show everyone what you did.”

Embarrassment burns through me. I want to run out of there or duck under the pew, but I can’t move. I’m frozen in place.

Lance stops in front of me. His suit jacket is gone and his black button down shirt is open, revealing his hard abs. “We can show them the sinful thoughts you were thinking.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie in church, Chastity. It will only make things worse.” Lance squeezes into the pew, now wearing only black slacks as he worms past the other parishioners. He stops in front of me, his crotch at eye level, an obvious bulge inside. The embers of his eyes glow. Even weirder, the bulge in his pants glows too, red orange through the black material. His dark red tie hangs around his neck like a tail. That’s when I realize he has cute little horns poking out of his unruly hair.

“You’re the devil!” Mom gasps.

Lance grins, “That’s right, Mrs. Shields. But you let me into your house, so there’s nothing you can do about it now. I’m taking your daughter.” He leans down and scoops me into his muscled arms. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“No!” Mom cries, reaching out to grab me. “Give me back my daughter!”

Lance twists, pulling me away. “She’s mine now.”

Huge red leathery wings unfurl behind Lance’s back and there’s a lurch when they beat swiftly downward, lifting us out from the pews. We float above everyone and somehow the church roof is gone and Lance flies us up into the summer sky.

As the church shrinks below us, I feel something coil around my legs and slide between my thighs. I look down and see his barbed red tail on the verge of invading me. The tip of it is glistening with—

I gasp and sit up in bed.

I realize my fingers are inside me. I quickly yank them out and clutch them into a guilty fist that I jam into my armpit.

What? The
eff
? Was that?

And should I feel weird that I’m entirely turned on right now?

I am not right in the head, that’s for sure.

But I’m smiling as I lie my head back on my pillow.

Holy crap.

I almost laugh out loud, then I remember Mom, who I do not want to wake right now.

I want to lie here in private and mull over that crazy dream for a while. In a way, it made perfect sense.

Lance really is the devil. As far as Mom is concerned, anyway.

Why does that turn me on so much?

++++8++++

CHASTITY

Eventually the allure of the dream fades and I drift into sleep.

This time, all I dream about is the sound of motorcycles.

Motorcycles…

I wake gently. The clock says 3:33.

Did I actually hear Lance’s motorcycle, or was that part of the dream?

I can’t say for sure.

The sheer curtains over my window billow inside my bedroom. My window is open because it’s so hot outside from the summer weather. For a second, it sounds like someone or something is outside in the backyard beneath my window. I pull my covers up to my chin. I hold my breath, trying to listen for another sound, but all I hear is my heart pounding in my ears. Once again, the curtain billows and I realize it was just the breeze. I close my eyes and try to relax. Now that I’m awake, all I can think about is Lance.

Lance, Lance, Lance.

I wish he was here right now.

A soft zipping sound at the window startles me. Every muscle in my body seizes. Somebody really is outside my window. I’m so scared I don’t know what to do. Something pointy traces down along the inside of the sheer curtain as the zipping continues. Someone is going to climb through my bedroom window and kill me any second. I take a deep breath, ready to scream.

A hand pushes through the curtain.

Am I still dreaming this?

I can’t tell if I’m awake or asleep.

Lance sticks his head through the curtain.

I’m definitely dreaming. It can’t be Lance. Late night rapists are never the hot guy who lives next door.

I whisper, “Lance? Is that really you?”

“Yup.” He cracks his devilish grin.

“Am I awake?”

“Seems like it.” He pushes himself up on the sill, both arms flexing as he hops onto it like a cat. Then he lowers his boots to the carpet. He’s holding a knife. The knife he used to cut through the window screen.

“Are you going to attack me with that knife?”

“I was thinking I might attack you,” he whispers. “But not with my knife.” He folds the blade into the handle and slides it in his pocket.

“Um, what are you doing in my bedroom at three in the morning?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Couldn’t it wait?”

“No.”

“Did you have to cut a hole in my window screen?”

“I’ll buy you a new one. You shouldn’t be leaving your window open at night anyway. Never know who might break in.”

“Are you serious?” I giggle.

“Very.” He sits on the edge of my bed and rests a heavy hand on my thigh.

We stare at each other.

What is he going to do?

His hand strokes my thigh and I shiver. He whispers, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

“I have no idea.” But I’m freshly wet. Does he have any idea what he’s doing to me?

“You’re driving me fucking crazy. All day long I couldn’t stop thinking about this hot little body of yours and all the nasty things I want to do to it.”

“So you cut a hole in my window screen with a knife and forced your way into my house in the middle of the night?”

“Since you weren’t waiting for me in my bedroom, I thought I’d come to yours.” If it wasn’t for the impossibly gorgeous grin on his face he would come across as a total psycho. But with that smile of his…

What am I thinking? This is crazy. “Maybe you should go. My mom is in the next room and she’s going to hear you. If she finds you in the house, she’ll call the cops.”

“I’ll be gone before they get here.”

“Yeah, but she knows where you live.”

“She won’t call the cops.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because. I always get my way.”

“You’re not getting your way with me.” I fold my arms over my chest, covering my hard nipples.

His hand strokes further up my thigh, coming dangerously close to home base. The only thing stopping him is a single sheet. It takes everything I have not to sigh with pleasure.

“You are turned on right now,” he says it like it’s a foregone conclusion.

“So?” Why did I have to admit that? I clamp my legs together.

He smiles. “If you let me, I’ll do dirty things to you.”

“You are completely crazy!” I hiss. “I’m not going to fool around with you in my bedroom with my mom in the other room!”

“Yeah you are.”

Lance peels his T-shirt over his head. Every muscle in his body flexes with the promise of paradise.

The wetness collecting between my legs drips out.

“Take the sheet off.” He tugs at it.

“No!” I bunch my arms around it, holding tight.

“No worries. I’m more interested in what’s going on down here.” He pulls the sheet out from the foot of the bed and slides his hand up under the covers.

“What are you—”

He tickles the sole of my foot.

I slap a hand over my mouth, holding in a laugh. I cackle noiselessly into my palm as he goes to work on the other foot. I kick my legs trying to evade his tickling attack, but with the sheet over my feet, it makes so much noise I stop, afraid Mom will hear us. He continues to tickle. Strangely, the sensation works its way up my legs to my… I let out a little moan. I didn’t realize tickling could be such a turn on.

Before I know it, one hand of his has snuck up past my ankle and is massaging my calf muscle. “What are you doing?”

“Loosening you up.”

“I’m not loose.” I clamp my legs together again and straighten them hard.

He resumes tickling my feet and I go all wiggley again.

“Stop! You’re gonna wake my mom up!”

“Then relax your legs.”

In the darkness of the room, I have no desire to resist. I relax and his hand climbs past my knees and pries between my thighs. A finger brushes up and down the slick wet slit of my opening through my panties.

“I told you you were turned on,” he grins. “Your panties are fucking drenched.” He sounds surprised. “Did all this happen just now?”

Embarrassed, I look away.

“Were you playing with yourself before I
came
in?” He narrows his eyes. “You were, weren’t you?”

“No!”

“That’s what I thought. Were you thinking about me?”

“No!!”

“Yeah you were,” he grins. “Were you thinking about fucking me?”

“You haven’t even kissed me, jerk. You had the chance earlier, but now it’s too late.”

“No it’s not.” He shoots his other arm under the sheet and yanks my panties down. The elastic waistband scrapes pleasantly across my butt.

“Hey!” I should be telling him to stop what he’s doing and get the heck out of here, but I’m not.

He holds my panties up to his nose and inhales. “Mmmm. Cherry pie.”

“You’re foul.”

“You love it.” He tosses the panties aside and rests his hand on my mound, massaging it with his huge palm.

I explode with sensation. When his thumb trails over my clitoris and lingers, spiraling slowly, I moan. We’re alone. I’m powerless to resist him. I have never been touched by a man. It is overwhelming to say the least, especially coming from a man like Lance. Pleasure races through me like a summer storm. I’m leaking freely when his finger slips inside me. It’s much larger than mine.

Outside my bedroom door the house creaks. “My mom!” I gasp.

Lance doesn’t care. His thumb continues to swirl. It feels wonderful. I feel an orgasm beginning to build. The contractions come on stronger and sweeter. Lance’s finger slides in and out of me like an electric eel. His thumb jitters like a human vibrator.

I’m going to come.

I can’t come, not with Mom outside my bedroom door. The guilt would kill me. But I don’t hear anything now. I guess the house was just settling. So I reach down with both hands and grab his wrist and squeeze tightly, pulling him into me as my body convulses with pleasure.

“That’s it,” he mutters as he massages his whole palm against me. “Feel it. Fucking come, Chastity. Come on my hand.”

I bite my lip and whimper, arching my pelvis up into his hand as the final wave of the orgasm hits me.

When I come down, I’m breathing hard.