Текст книги "Right Next Door"

Автор книги: A. J. Pryor

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

I fucking hate blue balls, even the words themselves send a slight shiver down my spine, and ever since I moved next door to a green-eyed beauty, I seem to have a constant case of them. Addison has issues. She’s been left too many times and the fact that she’s still pining for a man who deserted her years ago speaks volumes. Until she knows what she’s looking for, I need to keep my hands off her, even if it kills me.

I may be built like the world’s biggest player, but inside I’m a fucking pussycat. I have no interest in being anyone’s rebound or regret and if that means it takes a little longer to show her I’m the guy she needs, I’ll wait it out.

She can bat her pretty eyelashes all she wants, part those luscious lips and run her tongue along the edge until they’re glistening and bright. But until I know she’s not going to throw me aside for some asshole with perfectly coiffed hair and buffed nails, her hand in mine is as far as this thing’s going—even if my balls scream at me in protest.

It’s been one month since we initiated her restart, and Addison and I have fallen into a routine. We spend our mornings working out, come home to drink our coffee together and watch the ocean. It’s always a competition to see who comes out with the wackiest mug. I know I’ve got her today with Pamela Anderson’s tits 3D and showcased front and center; there’s no beating that. Sliding the glass door to the side I step out into the cool morning air and get a glimpse of my morning girl, that’s right, she’s my girl, whether she’s ready to admit it or not, hanging in her PJ’s on that white lounge chair of hers.

“Morning Addison.”

Her head turns just slightly, the flannel pajamas she’s sporting sexy as hell even if they are two sizes too big.

I take a sip of my coffee, and I choke. I fucking choke as I focus on the mug she’s tilting towards her mouth. It’s an ordinary coffee cup. In fact, if I didn’t know any better it would look like a flimsy paper throwaway cup, but the slogan. Fuck. That slogan, ‘Just put the tip in; see how it feels’ is clear as day, and I know she’s baiting me, and she’s doing a fan-fucking-tastic job of it. The fact that her coffee cups always leave me with pain between my thighs is becoming an epic problem.

She smiles, and that’s all the confirmation I need she’s torturing me on purpose.

After I gave her requirement number three, I wished I could take it back. The disappointment in her eyes when I told her that no, we would not be having sex, still keeps me up at night. But I don’t fuck just to fuck. That was my dad’s way of life and I’ll be damned if it’s mine.

“Nice mug, Addison.”

She turns it in her hands inspecting every letter on the white ceramic. “Hmm, I’d forgotten which mug I’d grabbed today. Yes, it is an exceptionally fantastic mug.” She takes another sip, sighing deeply and closing her eyes in deep relaxation.

And I’m fucking hard. Again.

“Big plans today?” I recover quickly and continue to stare at her sexy state of relaxation.

“Not really. I had a few nasty divorces to settle this week so I’m going to hang out on my couch and just chill.”

When she talks about work, I get a nasty taste in my mouth. I was able to stop Thomas and his attempt at posting Emily’s face all over the television on that Wednesday Child episode. My attorneys fighting that there are enough people interested in adopting her, she doesn’t need the unwanted attention. It was a small win in my favor, but didn’t earn me any points in getting Thomas to relax his refusal to see me as someone fit to be in her life.

A new book sits in front of her. Shit, it’s like the fourth different dirty romance she’s read since I moved in. How fast does she read this smut? Quickly reaching over our balcony, I grab it and do the unforgivable. I start reading it—out loud.

“I had him in my mouth, all of his thick length reaching to the back of my throat. I wanted him deeper, I wanted to swallow him whole. His hands were grabbing my hair, pulling it tight. I was going to come from the pleasure I was giving him. I loved this and couldn’t wait for him to explode in my mouth.”

I look up from the pages and all I see is rage, thick, heated and throwing daggers in my direction. Her eyes are blazing and I’m slightly afraid for what’s coming next.

“Give. Me. That. Book.” Her words are slow, the tone of her voice low and in all honesty scary as hell. I hold it high above my head and turn the page.

Addison jumps the railing and tries to grab the book out of my hand, causing us both to fall to the floor. I’m on my back, the hard concrete digging into me, as she climbs on top of my chest and grabs the novel out of my hands. Reaching for her, I pull her back on top of me before she can make a mad get away. I’m laughing hard and she’s struggling to free herself from my iron grip.

No way am I letting her escape after just reading that. It’s physically impossible for a woman to take a man that far back in her throat without gagging and I’d never met a woman who enjoyed giving a blow-job, let alone get off from one.

“Seriously, Addison, we need to discuss the mechanics of sex.”

She’s pinching my arms trying to get out of my embrace.

“I’d be happy to show you a few things, you know, give you a pointer or two.”

“Ouch!” I instantly release her and she jumps to her feet. “I can’t believe you just bit me.”

“Suck it, Offside!” Huffing she stands up straight and storms off, book in hand, as she goes back to her place.

Getting off the hard concrete floor, I check to see if Addison has drawn blood with her teeth. Rubbing at my chest, completely missing the bite mark and roaming over where my heart is frantically beating, I tell myself the erratic pulse is from being hustled to the ground by a pixie-sized peacock. But that is a weak excuse for the real reason she sets my heart on fire, and I know, my resolve is waning. If I don’t make a move soon, we both may combust.

I have to get out of here, meet Reed at the track and go see Emily, but I want to make sure I didn’t piss my favorite dirty bird off too much. Throwing on my shirt and pulling my beanie down over my ears, I open my front door to head over and apologize. Addison is standing there, her hand up and ready to knock. Leaning against my doorframe, I cross my arms over my chest, very curious as to why she‘s here.

She steps from foot to foot, crosses and uncrosses her arms and finally meets my eyes. “I’m sorry I bit you.”

“I’m not.”

Her eyes meet mine, confused.

Stepping out of my doorway and bending down so we are face to face, I very quietly tell her. “You can bite me anytime you feel like it, Addison.”

Blinking at me, she stands still for a few seconds before she slightly nods. Turning back down the hall, I stop her. “I have to go run an errand.”

Looking at me over her shoulder, she eyes me curiously.

“But I’ll be home later.”

He’ll be home later? I turn ready to level some snide remark in his direction. The sexual tension is too much. I still haven’t tackled requirement number three and it’s all Damian’s fault. I think about him morning, noon and night, his bare chest and stellar abs the first sight I see every morning. But, there’s something up, some reason he hasn’t pushed us further than friends, and I’m going to find out what it is.

He steps outside and in three strides, he’s standing in front of me, his eyes intense and focused directly on mine. My breath comes slow and precise as he lifts a hand to my face, brushing a strand of hair to the side, his thumb sliding along my skin as he moves. My breath catches on an inhale, my lips slightly parting as his hand roams through my hair, his palm cupping the back of my head and he lowers his face to mine, never breaking eye contact. “Addison,” he whispers, right before he kisses me, his firm lips moving against mine, his tongue slipping inside and his hands cascading down my back, holding me tight.

I’m startled at first, surprised that after a month of teasing, he’s finally made a move, and . . . I’m lost, completely immersed in a kiss that feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. His warm mouth takes total control, his tongue sensually dancing with mine, and a desperate groan releases from the back of his throat. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I exhale, moaning, and he grips me stronger, lifting me off the floor, and melding our bodies together.

I’ve kissed a lot of men, but nothing has ever felt like this, like I’m floating, weightless in a world that has tied me down for so long, I finally feel like I’m free.

I’m about to wrap my legs around his hips, suggest we move this inside when he gently places me back on the ground, my feet slowly connecting with the concrete, his hands moving to cup my face as he slows the kiss and slightly pulls away, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip as he goes. His breathing is jagged, his chest moving slowly in and out against my own. “Addison, that was . . .” his forehead meets mine, his eyes shine with desire and longing. “That was something we definitely need to do more often. I’ll be home in an hour. Don’t go anywhere.” He kisses me gently on my lips, my nose and finally my forehead. “And we can start this all over again.”

“You’re leaving me?” My body is heated beyond anything I’ve ever felt before; a slow ache has begun between my legs. I don’t want to wait an hour. I don’t want him to leave.

He kisses me again, lip on lip, his hands cupping my ass. “I promise, it will be worth the wait. Go inside, Green Eyes¸ I’ll come get you as soon as I’m home.”

Irritated I storm inside and slam the door behind me. I’m tired of men leaving me, getting me worked up, getting my heart racing and body wound tight only to say goodbye. What could be so important that he couldn’t wait until tomorrow . . . or even later today?

My phone dings a text and I look at the screen.

Damian: Don’t pout. My errand is really that important. I promise, I won’t be long.

What, can he read minds now too? I’m antsy, wondering how I’m going to keep busy for the next hour, anxiously awaiting his return. And even then…what? Are we going to just jump into bed, finally put to rest the sexual tension that stretches like a tightrope between our bodies?

Me: Take your time. I’m going to take a bath and relieve some tension. I’ll see you later.

Damian: Keep the water warm. When I get home, you can relieve mine.

I smile. I can’t help it. The man is a complete mystery. He’s always there when I need him, flirts like it’s his profession and walks around half-naked like it’s a uniform, yet hand holding is the only base he’ll cross . . . until that kiss. My insides clench as I remember his lips pressed to mine, his teeth gently biting my top lip as he held me tight. My lips are still on fire and now, these texts . . . shit, we’ve crossed the line and I only have forty-five minutes before we make that crossing a permanent move we can never recover from.

Jumping into action, I take a shower, resisting the urge to ease the burn Damian ignited in me. He started the fire; he’s the only one who can put it out.

Stepping out of the shower, I stand naked in the bathroom. The workouts I’ve been doing this past month have been paying off. I’m toned in places I didn’t know I had muscles; my breasts look larger and firmer resting above my taut stomach. Confidence I’d never possessed before ripples through me, and I throw on my white terry cloth robe, and a pair of stilettos.

There’s a knock on the door, and a warm heaviness settles deep in my belly. I throw open the door, expecting to see dark eyes and a sexy grin waltzing into my apartment. A cold blast of February wind smacks me in the face, along with a strong dose of reality.

“Hi.”

Fuck.

“Matt.”

He walks towards me, his eyes boring into mine, and my feet move backward as he steps uninvited into my apartment, closing the door behind him. I think I left my lungs outside. Suddenly, I’m having a hard time breathing.

His dark hair is styled—perfectly. His white, straight teeth are hidden behind his knowing smile. Those blue eyes that at once had my heart melting, now give me a sense of anxiety.

The wind picks up outside, it howls through the windows and I get the urge to go out and be swept away by it, to leave this place once and for all and start fresh, restart my life my way.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told you not to come.”

He eyes my outfit, his mind clearly spinning, and I begin to regret my decision to walk around in nothing but a robe and stilettos.

“I told you I wanted to explain in person.” He takes a step closer. “Did you really think one text was going to keep me away?”

Holding my robe closed tight, I meet his stare. “I have . . . plans.”

A dark and perfectly groomed eyebrow lifts in my direction as he once more hungrily scans my outfit. “Cancel them.”

His hand reaches towards me and unties the only thing keeping my dignity in place. The robe falls open on each side and Matt now has a front row seat to the body I’d just been so proud of.

I watch as his breath catches, his eyes eagerly traveling over every curve and crease on my body.

Dread overtakes my system, working its way from the pit of my stomach through my throat and to the tip of my tongue. I’m frozen in place, knowing I need to close my robe, cover my naked body from his lust-filled eyes, but the shock of my exposure hasn’t settled in yet and I can’t seem to move. His eyes travel from my body to my face and reality settles in.

As he stands in front of me hunger radiating off him, it becomes evident that my body is not immune to his touch, my nipples hardening, my breath catching and a slow ache that had already begun is becoming more pronounced.

Without asking permission, he reaches for me, placing his hand on the swell of my hip and pulls me towards him. The smell of his designer aftershave lingers on his smooth skin, the hint of mint escapes his lips and I’m reminded that he’s not a man’s man. He’d never flaunt his sweaty abs for the entire world to see. He doesn’t have rough calloused hands to massage my feet. His white button-down and navy trousers speak volumes to the life I’d live if I ever gave in to this.

He is a far cry from the man who lives in track pants, no shirt and a beanie. My insides begin to revolt at the touch of Matt’s hands on my body.

I take a step back, closing and securing my robe. “You don’t get to touch me anymore. You have a wife named Helen.” If I keep saying her name, she becomes real. I can’t pretend she doesn’t exist and neither can he.

He stiffens. “Helen was a business deal, Addison. I marry her, I get to own a piece of her dad’s company. We all came out winners in the end and no one, including Helen, expected the marriage to last longer than it has.”

“Not me,” I whisper.

He tilts his head, trying to understand what I’m talking about.

“I lost. I didn’t come out a winner in your deal.”

Concern marring his perfect face, he leans against the wall, and takes a deep breath, “Shit. No, you definitely lost and I’m so sorry for that part of the arrangement. But now, Addison, now I can give you anything you ever wanted. I can love you forever, and you’ll never have to worry about a dime again.”

I glare at him. “I never cared about money, Matt. We could have been the poorest people around as long as we were together. Don’t use that as an excuse for your lack of commitment.”

Holding my robe closed tight, I watch as his mind searches for a way to get me to understand. “Maybe that’s how you felt, Addy,” He pushes off the wall and stands in front of me. “But I needed to be able to come back to you with the world on a silver platter, or I wasn’t going to come back to you at all.”

“You didn’t come back for me, Matt. You said as much last time you were here. You weren’t ever coming back.”

He flinches, and I know I’m right. “You forgot about me. You forgot about us,” I whisper.

Sighing deeply he takes a step closer. “I could never forget about you, Addison. What we had . . . shit, Addy, I’ll never love like that again. But I fucked up leaving you and I figured you’d moved on. How could you not have found someone else?”

“Because my life fell apart the moment you left! My dad died, Matt. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me? I lost you, then my dad, and I was broke, working two jobs to get myself through law school. You stopped calling, never checked up on me. You broke my heart Matt, and I didn’t have time to put it back together. I can’t put myself through that again.”

His shoulders fall, and his eyes soften. “Addison,” he grabs me around the waist and pulls me to him. I tense, and his eyes darken, the blue looking more like the ocean than a clear fall day. Resting his cheek against the top of my head, a small groan leaving his throat. “I didn’t come into town last month to find you, but I sure as hell went to Joe’s with you front and center on my mind. The fact that you were there . . . my insides shouted at me, ‘Here’s your second chance, don’t fuck up again.’ I don’t love Helen, and I never did. If you believe anything, please believe that.”

For a second, emotions I’ve tried hard to tamp down rise up, and I do believe him. But that doesn’t mean I can trust him.

His hand slips inside my robe. Curling his fingers around my ribs, his thumb resting right under my breast, he kisses my forehead. “I don’t know how to stay away at this point, Addy.”

Opening the robe once again with his other hand, he trails a finger along the round swell of my exposed breast, his firm grip on my side not allowing me to move an inch. “Don’t push me away, Addison. Not when it’s so clear you want this too.” Gently he runs the back of his finger along the tip of my nipple and involuntarily my breath catches.

A loud knocking begins at my front door. “Green Eyes, it’s me. Open up.”

Matt’s eyes meet mine a flicker of doubt clouds them, his head tilting to the side.

Damian.

Shit. What am I doing?

This outfit, these shoes, they’re for him, and yet here I stand in the arms of a man I can’t trust, a man who left me for money. I can’t move, having no idea how I ended up in this position or how to get myself out of it. A trickle of sweat makes its way down my back as my chest begins to constrict, panic over taking my system. It starts with my breathing, or lack thereof, because I can’t breathe. Have completely stopped pulling air into my lungs. And I’m sure I’m going to vomit any second.

“Addison?” Damian knocks again.

Matt pulls me closer. “Breathe, Addy.” His hands slide up my body and he tugs me into his arms, holding me against his chest. “Breathe.” He has one palm behind my head massaging my scalp and another holding me firm to him.

I think I’m in shock; I’m practically naked, in my ex’s arms. This isn’t where I want to be. “You have to leave,” I finally croak out.

He stiffens and his massaging fingers briefly pause.

Damian knocks again.

“Clearly, I’m no expert Addison, but I don’t think you want me walking out your front door right now.”

Shit, he’s right. I hate that he’s right. I have to wait this out. No matter the consequences. I can’t allow Damian to find me in this position.

Pulling myself from Matt’s embrace I look at his hesitant eyes. “I’m going to put some clothes on.”

He nods and takes a step back.

Clearing my throat, I try to sound more confident than I feel. “Damian, I’m not feeling well. I’ll call you later,” I shout through the closed door.

“Addison,” his voice is tender, concern echoing through to my apartment. “Open the door and talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I think I ate something bad, that’s all. I’ll come see you later.” Disappointed, devastated, completely lost, that about sums up how I’m feeling right now as I make Damian leave.

He sighs loud enough for me to hear, “Okay, you know where to find me.”

I take a step towards my bedroom and Matt clears his throat. The question I know he’s been dying to ask finally leaves his lips. “Are you in love with him?” I don’t turn around, only shake my head. How could I possibly be in love with a person I’ve only just kissed moments before? But the panic that overtook me at being caught with Matt is undeniable and that gives me pause. Because if I’m only looking for a casual fling, why would I care if Damian found me with Matt? And why am I suddenly so sad that Matt was the one to show up on my doorstep first?