The Neighbor Read online

“I didn't believe any of it,” I said quickly and, I hoped, convincingly.

  “I bet you believed some. They're very convincing when they're on a roll.”

  “I try not to judge people I've never met. It's kind of my motto.”

  When I looked down, I saw that she had placed her hand on mine. Her touch was warm, slightly damp. “That makes you better than 99 percent of the people on this street. I think you and I are gonna get on just fine.”

  Half of me wanted to tug my hand away, hoping that doing so would prevent the blush that I knew was creeping to my cheeks. But the other half of me, the part I had come to not recognize, that part in me that was seeing this woman as something to be desired, and not as I saw other women, wanted to feel her touch forever. Not just on my hand, but wherever she would put it. I hadn't been touched with such simple affection in years; was that why I craved hers like a mad person, starved of human contact? What the hell was happening to me?

  “You want a top up?” I asked, using the wine refill as my chance to draw my hand away.

  She nodded and held out her glass.

  Maybe it was the wine, or the fact that Casey had dispelled the rumors and lies that Rachel and Denny had spread about her, but our conversation seemed to flow. She was just a twenty-eight-year-old model from Massachusetts, who didn't steal husbands and didn't sleep with underage boys. Every preconceived notion I'd had about her went out the window, enough that I never thought twice about moving our little exchange to the living-room, for the sake of comfort.

  But how could this have been possible? I was supposed to dislike this woman, not spend hours drinking and gossiping like we'd been friends for years. Pretending she didn't exist, not fetching another bottle of wine for us to guzzle down. I even momentarily forgot about my voyeur session earlier that week.

  By the time she wobbled to her feet I'd completely lost track of the time. She held both my hands for support, giggling drunkenly, and announced that she needed to get to bed.

  “I think I do too,” I said, just as tipsy. “I hope you don't have too far to travel.” I chuckled at my own pathetic joke.

  “Oh,” she said, then burst out laughing. “I get it. Because I only live next door.”

  I walked her to the door. Well, I staggered with her to the door.

  “I had fun,” I said, not masking my surprise.

  “Me too. We should do it again soon.” She hugged me, and the hug lasted a lot longer than it needed to, probably because separating herself from me would have required energy that the wine had taken out of her. And just before she pulled away, she whispered by my ear, her lips just grazing my earlobe, “With or without our clothes on...”

  That was enough to sober me up, but she'd already stepped outside by the time I realized what she'd said.

  For a week I contemplated storming over to her house and insisting that she'd gotten the wrong end of the stick. That just because she'd caught me staring at her naked body, it didn't mean what she thought it meant. And what exactly did she think it meant? What did she think I was?

  The thought of the encounter had left me irritable, short-tempered and a real horror to be around. Adrian didn't exercise any restraint in telling me so.

  “Hopefully getting out of the house will put you in a better mood, Mom.”

  I was spraying perfume on, the finishing touch as I got ready to meet an old friend for drinks. I was already running late, having spent longer than intended trying to pick out a suitable outfit for the evening. I settled on a simple black dress that hugged all of my curves in just the right way.

  “I don't know what you're talking about. What's wrong with my mood?”

  “You're kidding, right? You've been miserable for days. More than usual.”

  “Hey, watch it.” I pointed a warning finger at him, only half serious. “I've just been under a lot of pressure with work, that's all.”

  “Whatever. What time are you coming back?” He spoke casually, but I saw right through it.

  “I'll be back when I'm back,” I said cryptically. “And I don't want to come back to a bunch of sixteen-year-olds getting drunk in my house and wrecking my furniture. You got that?”

  He rolled his eyes, his default response to practically everything I said these days.

  I didn't envisage the night lasting very long, though I didn't tell him that. What I also didn't tell him was that the friend I was meeting was in fact my ex-boyfriend from high school. The divorce hadn't gone down well with Adrian, and even though the rendezvous was an innocent catch-up between old friends, I didn't want to risk upsetting him.

  It was close to eleven when Vince and I got to the taxi bay, joining a long line of people a lot drunker than we were. My son had been right about my 'date' transforming my mood. Vince hadn't changed much since our teen years, and so his wisecrack remarks and cheeky persona had me in stitches the whole time.

  “By the time we get a cab I'll have frozen to death!” I said, rubbing my arms to keep warm. The thin shawl that I'd thrown on just before leaving the house was doing a shit job – the weather had become bitterly cold in the three hours I'd been out.

  Vince, always the gentleman, took off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders, ignoring my refusals.

  “Well I can't let that happen, can I?” He winked his cheeky, boyish wink, instantly transporting me to an older time. He was still handsome, just with faint age lines around the eyes and mouth. In fact, the lines seemed to make him more attractive. Life had been good to him. Unlike mine, his marriage was still very much intact, and he spoke passionately about his wife and kids. Still as flirty as ever, but devoted to his family. There was nothing between us but memories, which made it easy to be in his company, to not revert back to that awestruck teenage girl from my youth who idolized him, worshiped him.

  “Thank you. I'm usually better prepared than this. The weather deceived me tonight.”

  “It does that a lot, or had you already forgotten?”

  “That's what happens when you move away, you forget the important things.”

  As we were laughing, I spotted a red sports car zooming past. Not just any red sports car, a Porsche 911, top up. I'd been doing so well putting Casey out of my mind, but seeing someone drive by in the same model of car, the same color, brought everything flooding back.

  I groaned under my breath.

  “What's up?” Vince asked.

  “Nothing. Nothing.”

  To my horror, the car reversed speedily and pulled up to the curb. It seemed like the whole line, including me and Vince, were now looking at the car, waiting to see who would step out. A sinking feeling developed in the pit of my stomach. Deep down I must have already known who was behind the wheel.

  The driver's door opened and Casey climbed out. And now everyone really was looking at her, ogling her. It was impossible not to look at the breathtaking brunette who'd stepped out of a Porsche wearing a gray vest-like sports top and the shortest, tightest matching shorts. Sweat had dampened and darkened the top.

  “Hey Sabrina. I almost didn't see you there,” she said cheerfully.

  I wish you hadn't, I wanted to say but didn't. Now everyone was looking back and forth at me and Casey. Vince, however, was just looking at Casey. He didn't look as if he could stop. It was disgusting to watch.

  “W-what are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I was on my way home from the gym. Needed to get a workout in before I go away on Monday.” She didn't appear to acknowledge Vince or any of the other men gawking at her. It was as though we were alone. This angered me more than it should have. Did she have no manners at all? What if I was on a date; didn't she think about that before intruding?

  “We're just waiting for a taxi,” I said. Well, duh! Of course we're waiting for a taxi, seeing as we're standing at the taxi rank, I thought, close to face-palming. There was just something about this woman that made my common sense stop functioning around her. I couldn't think straight in her presence, especially not when she
was dressed like that.

  She laughed, sounding a lot sexier than I was comfortable with. “I can see that. Hop in, I'll drop you home.”

  I looked at Vince. He smiled. “Go. You'll be waiting here forever, you know that.”

  “Talk to you soon?” In my eyes, although he probably couldn't see it, I was screaming for him to save me from this woman; and from myself.

  “Sure. Goodnight.”

  I handed him back his jacket, waved reluctantly and stepped into the car with Casey. It was warm inside, yet I was still trembling fiercely as we started off.

  Several minutes of smalltalk passed, until finally she said, “I didn't interrupt anything, did I? That wasn't a date?”

  “It would have been ruined now if it was,” I mumbled, staring out the window as we sped along the road. Her driving left a lot to be desired. More than once I had to grab onto the dashboard, holding on for dear life as she broke the speed limits. “No, just two old friends catching up.”

  “Good, I didn't think so. You both looked very platonic.”

  It took me a moment to realize that she had a smirk on her face. I folded my arms. “We used to date actually,” I said stubbornly. “And we were far from platonic then.” I didn't know who I was trying to convince, myself or her. All I knew was that I was coming off much more defensive than I should have, which angered me. Why had I allowed her to get under my skin?

  “That was probably years ago though. You're older and wiser now.”

  I looked at her, speechless. That self-satisfied smirk was still evident as she turned to meet my gaze then turned back to the road.

  “I feel there's something I need to make clear,” I started, but not before taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. This was the last thing I wanted to address, but it was the big, overweight elephant in the room (or the car). “I don't know what impression I gave you, but I'm straight.”

  To my surprise, her smirk became a full-blown grin. “Sure. Sure, I believe you. But who cares about labels, right?”

  “I care about them because I'm one hundred percent straight!” It was about one volume below a shout.

  “One hundred percent straight women don't take so long to draw their curtains when they see a naked woman through their window.” She shrugged. “Just saying.”

  I opened and closed my mouth about three times, my outrage muting me. I was so furious, the words wouldn't come out. Until finally, “God, you're so presumptuous! I was in shock, that's all. You would have reacted the same way had you been in my situation.”

  We were approaching our street now, I noticed, relief washing over me. The sooner this little adventure ended the better.

  “True, but that's only because I love women. I'm not afraid to admit that.” She pulled into her driveway and cut the engine.

  “Just because I saw you naked doesn't mean I want to... to–”

  There was no time at all to phrase that sentence appropriately, because before I knew it Casey's lips were on mine. The normal reaction to being assaulted in that way would have been to push her away and run screaming from the car. But neither of those things happened. Instead of pushing her away, I opened my mouth to let her tongue in, and received her hungrily, feeling the stud of her piercing. I grabbed her head with both hands, suddenly overcome with insatiable longing, suddenly realizing just how much I did want to...

  Her lips were soft and moist. I could smell her deodorant coupled with the sweat from her workout. The combination was delicious.

  “I want to hear you admit it,” she said when she peeled her lips away from mine.

  “Admit what?” I could hear how weak my voice sounded; so pathetic. One steamy kiss and I'd already lost myself.

  “Say you want me.” She swept my hair away from my neck and brought her lips to the delicate area, tracing slow kisses and lightly sucking down to my collarbone. “Say it.”

  My eyes fluttered shut as her kisses fell. “I want you.” I felt the words escape my lips, though they sounded so distance they didn't seem to have come from me.

  I suspected she only needed me to say those words as a power play, to show me how powerless I was, because she had already reached around my back to undo my dress. Every movement was slow and calculated, building the tension, playing with my appetite. She brought her lips to mine again as she worked the straps of my dress off my shoulders, allowing my breasts to pour out.

  My breasts now newly liberated, it just occurred to me that we were in the driveway, out in the open where anyone could see us. My brain insisted that I put a stop to this, but my aching cavern had its own ideas and made the better argument.

  She cupped one of my exposed mounds in her hand, her grip firm, and brought her mouth to the pink flesh at the tip. Within seconds of her tongue lashing against it, the nipple hardened.

  “Oh God,” I murmured, throwing my head against the headrest and closing my eyes. Charges shot through me as she worked her tongue around my nipple, switching from licking to sucking and back again without warning, her stud causing a delightful sensation. I gripped onto the door handle, my hold getting tighter with every lick. It was the most awkward position to be fucked in; I'd never done it in a car before, and this was precisely why. I thought I'd never get wet enough. But boy did she know how to work me into a frenzy. She was so skilled I wondered how many women she had screwed in a car... in this car. I could feel the moisture building between my legs as her suction on my teat increased in intensity.

  “I want you,” I whispered for a second time, without being prompted.

  She laughed a small laugh against my breast, not letting up with the sucking. “Show, don't tell,” she breathed.

  At first I didn't know what she meant, but her hand, which had been stroking my thigh, now slowly peeled back my dress and blindly made its way to my lace panties. At which point I knew exactly what she meant. Even though the panties hadn't been given enough time to become soiled with my excitement, just a few of her heavy-handed strokes against the fabric got my juices flowing.

  She released my breast and looked at me with a cheeky grin, her lips wet and guilty, her hand still rubbing at my crotch. “Now that's more like it,” she said, before smashing her lips to mine once more. Her kisses were powerful and unrelenting, so much so that they took me off guard, and I didn't notice that she'd sneaked her hand inside my panties until I felt her fingers against my bean. And then she was unstoppable. Attacking my nub with an almost angry force, as though her life depended on it.

  “Oh...” A loud groan ripped from my lips, but she caught it in another kiss, hushing me, yet never stopping her thrashing against my sex. I moaned and groaned, rolling my head this way and that against the headrest, having lost all control. In all my years of marriage Eric had never been able to send me into this kind of frenzy that it had taken Casey mere minutes to cause. I'd been missing out all my life.

  Casey returned her mouth to my bruised nipple and this time her assault on it moved in time with her assault between my legs. It went on like that for a couple of agonizing minutes until I expired in a loud, body shuddering orgasm. She caught my final moan in her mouth, as she pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. Her hand gradually slowed to a stop between my legs, though my body still shuddered with remnants of what had been the best orgasm I'd ever experienced.

  She wiped her fingers on the inside of my thigh, soiling me with my own juices. Then she drew back a little and looked at me, a wicked glint in her eye and a lopsided grin plastered on her face. “I bet you didn't see the night ending this way when you stepped out this evening.”

  I turned away, lacking energy but having come down from my high, the shame of what I'd just done hitting me. I fixed my dress back onto my shoulders and tried to do up the zipper, but in my haste couldn't manage.

  “Let me,” she said, and I could hear the laughter in her voice.

  Reluctantly I let her zip me up. Then, fumbling for the lock, I pushed the door open, grabbed my purse and darted from the car without clo
sing the door behind me. Without looking back.

  PART TWO

  I couldn't get the door open quick enough!

  Shit! I screamed internally. Shit on a stick. All the while I could still feel Casey's touch, could still smell her scent. I knew it was all in my head, but that didn't stop me freaking out.

  I started my hasty ascent up the stairs.

  “Mom? Whoa, what's the rush?” Adrian's voice caught me off guard, freezing me in place. He stood in the living-room doorway, soda can in hand. He furrowed his eyebrows at me. I thought he gave me the once over, with a judgmental squint of his eyes, but that could have been in my head too. “You look spooked. Crap night?”

  “What?” I asked, disoriented. “No, no. What are you still doing up?”

  “It's Saturday, why wouldn't I be up?”

  I wasn't listening. “Okay... well, goodnight,” I said and blew up the stairs. I headed straight for the bathroom – the shower. I took a guilty look at the bathroom window and blamed it for everything. That was where it had all begun; that was what had given Casey the authority to pursue me... and succeed!

  The dirty feeling, that feeling of violation, wouldn't go away no matter how long I stayed in the shower, no matter how much I scrubbed the soap over my flesh. And when I crawled into bed, that feeling of being violated remained with me. Yet, there was something else, something unexpected. It was as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, a weight I hadn't noticed was there. I shuddered with the realization that I'd needed the release. And although Casey had been the most unlikely candidate for the task, I had to admit she'd done a fantastic job. Elegant in both her kisses and touches, creating the perfect balance between the two, to give me the most powerful orgasm I'd ever experienced.

  That was why I barely got any sleep that night. My mind was too busy replaying the act, thinking just how wonderful it felt to have a woman touch me so intimately.

  A noise outside ripped me from my sleep the following morning, and pissed me off in the process, just as I'd managed to drift into a slumber. I hobbled out of bed and peeked through the blind. The sun hit me square in the face, almost blinding me. As my bedroom overlooked the front yard, when I peered down I saw Casey loading a suitcase into the trunk of her car. Her larger than necessary trucker cap was pulled down over her tousled hair, and she wore a long sleeve baseball t-shirt and tight denim shorts that made her ass look great. As soon as that thought entered my mind, I silently scolded myself for ever thinking it.