Boys Next Door Page 10

  I took him as gracefully as I could. And when I couldn’t do it gracefully, I did it hungrily. Feeling the length of him spear the back of my tongue and my throat, making me struggle for air, bringing tears to my eyes. I had those spikes of fear that made me try and rear up from under him but he backed off just enough and said softly, almost tenderly, ‘Hush.’

  But then he’d fill me again and I’d have to fight my instinct to struggle.

  It was then I saw what I was doing – when I realised my error. I surrendered and gave myself over to the perfection that was being used in that moment for pleasure. Cooper growled when he felt me relax. But under the growl was a frustration, I heard it and I felt it and after one more deep surge into my throat, he pulled free of my mouth.

  I sucked hard at the air in the room and enjoyed the perversity of the moment. How I’d simply given in, and how I felt gorgeously boneless and peaceful for having done it.

  He flipped me, muttering, ‘Fuck,’ under his breath. He didn’t raise me up on hands and knees but pushed me down and I heard the rip and crinkle of the condom wrapper. The smell of rubber flooded my nose and then he was shoving into me.

  We both paused for a moment as the words ripped out of him. ‘Jesus, Feral, you’re so fucking wet. You really did get off on …’ But then he sighed because what he was about to say would push him over the edge, not me.

  We both knew it.

  He thrust deep and rough, and my face rasped against my pillow, my hair a whispering tangle around my face. He pinned me with his hands by my hips, driving into me like he could erase his weakness.

  He hadn’t expected my surrender. Not after our showdown earlier. So when I had given myself over to him, it had been too much. Unexpected. Frailty where he’d anticipated anger.

  Coop grabbed my right hand and moved just enough to wedge it under my body, pressing it to my sex. His hand laid out over mine like a human glove and it didn’t escape my notice that he was thrusting faster – a barely controlled chaos of flesh and blood.

  ‘Show me. Come on, Feral, show me.’

  So I did. I showed him how I liked it, moving my hand just so. Pressing just hard enough. Grinding my pelvis to my fingertips as he filled me. Punishing me for making him skate so close to losing the control he so obviously loved.

  His breath was hot and manic in my ear and I moved myself back and up just enough to take him deeper. I stroked myself with his fingers spread over mine, mimicking mine as he followed along.

  And when that hitch in my breathing sounded he let out a rush of air, tinted with relief. I was going to come. That meant he could come and not look weak.

  ‘Come for me, Farrell,’ he whispered.

  I obeyed. But mostly it was because in that moment – where he had me bent to his will – he used my real name. He gave me that. And in that early morning instant, it was a priceless thing.

  I came, face pressed to the cushion, cry muffled by hair and pillow and comforter. He jerked once with release, his face pressed to my neck, fingers bruising my hips, body slamming mine flat.

  ‘I swear, you’re a witch,’ he said, curling a finger along my spine before standing and pulling on his jeans.

  Nope. Just the big bad wolf …

  He leaned in and surprised me by kissing me fiercely. His mouth hot and intrusive against my mouth.

  I couldn’t resist. When he pulled away I said, ‘I thought you said I wasn’t ready yet.’

  ‘You were ready,’ he grated. And then he walked out of the room. I heard the front door click and latch, and flopped back down to try and sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Why did dogs need to be groomed so fucking early, I wondered when the alarm went off.

  ‘Seriously?’

  Even without the middle of the night impromptu rendezvous with Coop, it wouldn’t have been enough sleep. Speaking of which, when I moved, I felt the mild soreness between my legs. I sat up, relishing it. That ache and twinge of fucking – of being taken.

  ‘I’ll have to ask him how he got in,’ I breathed. Then I padded to the bathroom, thinking I should take Donna up on her offer of adopting Brutus. Then I’d be talking to a dog and not myself.

  The water was hot, the steam was relaxing and I washed my hair vigorously with bitter orange shampoo, inhaling the rich scent greedily, and then smeared on loads of conditioner. The wind had been tangling the crap out of my long hair, and the way Coop had crushed me down last night had nearly turned my knots to dreadlocks.

  Jeans and a JOY DIVISION T-shirt, motorcycle boots and a hoodie. This was how you dressed to dip dogs in flea dip right? I made coffee and toast, determined not to relive the middle of the night moments with Coop’s cock buried in my throat and then the rough way he’d fucked me, face down like I was being punished.

  I was determined not to think about it, so every time it popped into my mind – in vibrant candy colours, no less – I shivered to the core of myself. The rush of adrenaline and remembered pleasure.

  Jesus, woman.

  I finished my coffee, dropped the mug in the sink and realised I had about half an hour. I’d get there early, but maybe I could visit with Brutus and really consider bringing him home.

  ‘Fuck.’ It was all I could think to say when I opened the front door and found flowers and a bakery box. Something told me the gifts weren’t from the same person.

  The flowers were from Deke. Bright daisies and lovely carnations and greens that tickled at my face. The note simply said MORNING, LADY. I inhaled deeply – I had always preferred the earthy scent of carnations to the heady odour of roses. I smiled, shaking my head at the chivalrous gesture.

  The bakery box was a no brainer but I folded back the note to see, THANKS FOR A SWEET NIGHT, STEPHEN.

  Ugh. Flowers. Pastries. Sweet notes, and me with the sudden realisation that I was making a huge mistake. Fucking all the men who lived directly across from me was probably the dumbest thing I could do.

  ‘You really have them wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?’

  When I looked up, Coop was standing there, mouth set, a work boot resting on my first porch step. But he didn’t come up.

  ‘I’m not … I mean … No.’ It was a lie, I feared, but he made me feel so bad. As if I’d maliciously set out to fuck it all up.

  ‘Sure you do. Flowers from Deke. A classic Deke move, FYI. And pastries from bakery boy … I mean, come on.’

  He smirked at me and I felt the anger surge up in my stomach, more bitter than the coffee.

  ‘Well, I clearly don’t have you wrapped around my finger,’ I snapped.

  He looked down for a beat and when he looked back up, his face was unreadable to me. ‘I don’t get wrapped.’

  ‘Why are you here?’ I demanded, setting the flowers and the bakery box inside my door and then locking it.

  ‘I just wanted to tell you that I got in through the kitchen window. The latch is busted. The screen comes out. You might want to fix that.’

  I might want to fix that – if I didn’t want him sneaking in again. That was what he meant. So if I left it broken and left myself vulnerable, what would that mean?

  ‘Thanks.’

  I stomped down the wooden steps and right past him. He watched me, but said nothing. Nervousness bubbled up in me, and I was annoyed to hear myself rush to fill the silence.

  ‘Well, I have to go. I have to get to work.’

  Coop nodded.

  ‘And I might be getting a dog.’

  His green eyes sparkled and he hooked his fingers in the waistband of his faded jeans. ‘To keep the likes of me out?’

  I told myself to be quiet. In my head I raged against what I was about to say. And yet, I said it. ‘He’s a dachshund.’

  There was a moment – a heartbeat – of silence and then he dropped his head and chuckled. Coop turned to move past me but paused, twining a lock of my hair around his finger. ‘I’ll remember that for next time. I’ll make sure to wear my boots. You know …’ He tug
ged my hair and I felt a resounding tug in my pussy to match it. ‘To protect my ankles.’

  * * *

  ‘You should do it,’ Joy said when I walked in.

  I looked around, thoroughly confused, which is never how you want to be on your first day of a job. ‘Me? Do what? Dip, clip, paint, walk, poop patrol?’

  Donna snorted and said, ‘Look who’s here, Brutus!’

  Brutus promptly started to vibrate like someone had flipped his ON switch. Then he trotted up to me, turned in a circle and when I bent to stroke his black fur, promptly left a silver dollar sized pool of pee on the floor.

  ‘That’s the breed,’ Donna said, waving a hand. ‘Paper towels are on the counter.’

  I bent to wipe up the nervous offering even as the offerer attacked me with an eager tongue and a huge amount of affection. ‘What is it I should do?’ I said to the dog but talking to the women.

  ‘The charity show. We have one every year to benefit a local charity. Sometimes it’s a school or a family that’s suffered hard times or some such. This year it’s a family out by the county line whose house burned to the ground. Squirrels in the attic. They chewed the wires and the whole place went up in flames.’

  ‘That’s awful,’ I said.

  ‘It is,’ Joy sighed. ‘So we have a benefit show, sell tickets, the locals bake and make appetisers and people pay for those. Some of the local families that make wine or microbrew beers for themselves set up a bar. Everyone gets drunk and stupid for a good cause.’

  ‘Joy!’ Donna said, blushing and tsking simultaneously. ‘The way you make us sound. No one gets drunk and stupid,’ she said to me.

  ‘Old man Samuelson tried to ride a goat home last year,’ Joy said straight-faced.

  Donna frowned. ‘One small incident. Anyway, you being an actress and whatnot, we figured you could participate.’

  ‘I came here to not be an actress.’ Brutus wouldn’t leave me be, so I picked him up and held him while he licked every inch of my face he could reach with his long pink tongue.

  ‘But for charity?’

  I sighed.

  ‘Surely we can find something for you to do. It can be something else. Can you sing?’

  ‘Dear Lord, no,’ I snorted. ‘Do you want people to leave with bleeding ears?’

  ‘Why not just think about it? Brutus can help you,’ she said, winking.

  I eyed Brutus. He was literally shimmying with love. His little wiener dog tail flying back and forth at a mile a minute. ‘Do you want to come home with me, studly?’

  I had to put him down he was wagging so hard. Donna crossed her arms, eyeing him. ‘I think that might be a yes.’

  ‘Jeesh, ya think?’ Joy said.

  She looked at her watch. ‘Gotta go, D,’ she said.

  Donna glanced at the wall clock. ‘Me too. Will you be okay alone?’ she asked me.

  ‘Alone?’ I tried not to sound like I’d just sucked all the helium out of a balloon. I was a big girl, I could do it. Right? I didn’t have to panic. ‘I mean, yeah, sure, I guess.’

  ‘Joy has a doctor’s appointment and I have a dentist’s appointment. We didn’t schedule that so well, did we?’ she laughed, and rooted around under the counter for her purse. ‘If you weren’t here, we’d have to shut down for a few hours. But don’t panic.’

  ‘Me, panic? Never,’ I said, but bit my lip to keep from laughing.

  ‘All you have to do is answer the phones, sell anyone dog food or such should they come in for it. Prices are on the packages, tax paper is taped to the desk and don’t be frightened but we do it the old-fashioned way.’

  ‘Pardon?’ My stomach was in knots but I breathed. It was really no big deal.

  ‘Cash box. Cash only. So anyone who comes in here will know that. Just write down what you sell and make change from the cash box. Key is underneath the box.’

  ‘Because we are state of the art,’ Joy said. Then she saluted us and left.

  Donna laughed. ‘We are. We are state of the art. For 1911. Out I go. I’ll be back in an hour. Doctor Hanstrom’s number is on the blotter. I left it for you should you need me. Good luck!’

  ‘You’re not worried!’ I asked as she was walking out. ‘I could be … a nefarious person.’

  She winked at me. ‘Farrell, honey, you are a lot of things, I bet. But nefarious isn’t one of them.’

  She left and the bell over the door tinkled.

  ‘Well, hell,’ I said to Brutus.

  He turned in a circle and wagged his tail so hard he almost fell over.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When the bell tinkled again twenty minutes later, I looked up nervously. A big breath rushed out of me to see pretty Stephen Vogel standing there.

  ‘Is this a bakery delivery?’ I teased.

  He didn’t smile and I suddenly felt foolish. I came around the counter and touched his arm. ‘Hey, you okay? Did I say somethi –’

  ‘I saw you with him,’ he said.

  Brutus came up and plopped at my feet between me and Stephen. Stephen promptly squatted to pet the dog.

  ‘Him?’ I asked. But my stomach had knotted up and I knew what he meant.

  ‘Cooper. I saw you with him after you left and then later that night, I was up, getting ready to go in and bake – I couldn’t sleep much last night. I saw him leave your house early.’

  His grey eyes showed some hurt but there was more in there. Something that had nothing to do with hurt feelings.

  ‘Look, I thought I had made it clear to … well, to everyone so far, that I’m not looking for anything serious. Or for anyone to be tracking me.’ I tried to keep my voice even and not sound annoyed.

  But I was a little annoyed. I didn’t need anyone questioning me or making me feel guilty.

  They can only make you feel guilty if you let them …

  He shrugged, dark hair falling over his forehead. It was endearing and sexy all at once and I had to clench my fist to keep from reaching out to brush it away. Any excuse to touch him. He did that to me – being so close to him – gave me the urge to touch.

  The door jingled again and a small woman with her hair dyed Raggedy Ann red came in.

  Stephen nodded and smiled. ‘Mrs Rogers.’

  ‘Hello, Stephen!’ she boomed and I flinched. But then I noticed she had hearing aids in each ear and tried to stifle the need to cringe when she continued to speak. ‘I just need some kitty food! That food that Donna sells is the only thing that doesn’t upset Bobby’s belly. She carries cat food as a courtesy, because she is a wonderful animal lover!’

  Stephen reached up on the high shelf and grabbed the cans she indicated. ‘Four?’

  ‘Better make it six,’ she shouted.

  I tallied her purchase and put it all in a Donna’s bag. ‘That’ll be $8.84, please.’

  ‘You’re new!’ she yelled and I saw Stephen suppressing a laugh.

  ‘I am. My name’s Farrell.’

  I took her ten dollar note and counted out her change. She left in a wave of lavender perfume and happy vibrations. ‘Nice to meet you, Carol!’ she called from the door and left.

  I snorted.

  ‘It is nice to know you, Carol,’ he said.

  ‘Christ, my ears are ringing from her. She’s a bit loud.’

  Someone rang the back doorbell and I went to see who was there. Stephen followed. The delivery man had left a few boxes of flea dip and dog brushes and food by the back door. Stephen helped me haul them in.

  I straightened and he took a step toward me, backing me up to the counter. ‘I know what you said, and I get it. But he’s such a jerk sometimes. That Cooper. So I wanted to just tell you, he can be sort of a jerk and …’ He leaned in further, looking terrified but intent, and then he kissed me.

  His tongue as warm and gentle and it sent such a rush through me, the way he kissed me, like he needed me.

  ‘Just be careful. He’s not a nice guy for the most part. You deserve better.’ His hands were firm on my hips and I pictured
him kneading bread and rolling dough and handling buttery pastry. I wanted him to handle me that way. Touch me that way. I wanted him to touch me and touch me until some of that goodness he seemed to carry in him rubbed off on me.

  I took his hand and pressed it to my zipper. The heat of him flooded the centre of me and I hummed low in my throat, the vibration working through my lips into his.

  ‘Jesus,’ he said. Then he pressed his body to mine and I felt how hard he was. How ready.

  ‘Here. Come here. Hurry.’

  I pushed him into a small restroom with a sliding door. I shimmied my jeans to my knees and kept an ear peeled for the door. The women hadn’t been gone but 25 minutes, but this would take massive luck and speed.

  But lust and need rolled fiercely in my belly and I wondered if I was losing my mind. I seemed to be always aroused, and by men so extremely different it was mind-boggling.

  ‘Fuck me. Hurry.’

  Stephen groaned, his fingers working the button of his black and white chef pants. ‘Farrell – are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure. Hurry.’ I grabbed one of his strong hands and splayed it on my ass cheek. I was wet. I was ready. I could feel how ready by the insistent hot thump of my heartbeat in my cunt.

  ‘I don’t have – do you have a condom?’ he sighed.

  I turned and looked him in the eye. ‘No. But I’m clean. And I’m on the pill. Are you clean?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Do you promise?’

  His eyes flicked down my body, tracing the line of my back and his hand followed suit. ‘I’d never lie about something like that, Farrell.’

  I believed him. ‘Touch me,’ I said. My voice was broken and demanding.

  He touched me.

  We faced each other in the reflection of the small mirror over the washbasin as he cupped my breasts, teasing my nipples to taut peaks. The hair on my scalp prickled and my throat tickled with need. But I didn’t rush him. I wanted those hands on me. Hands that dealt in silken smooth flour and raw sugar, honey and spices, butter and molasses.