Chapter One

 

Wynter Griffin gritted her teeth as once again the sounds of loud, heavy rock filled the air. How many parties could her damn neighbor have? He’d only been moved in for a week, and he’d had an excuse to celebrate every single night. She’d only just finished unpacking, and was now getting everything into order.

There was no way that her very inked neighbor had already gotten cozy. He had way more stuff than she did—she’d seen it all while he moved in—but he also had a lot of people helping him out, while she only had the help of the moving men. None of her family wanted to help, as they believed she was making a huge mistake.

This wasn’t because they didn’t want her to move out. No, they didn’t like that she’d not gotten married or had a baby. They were great believers in marrying young, raising a family young, so that you can enjoy it when you’re older. The guy she’d dated in high school … she cringed just thinking about it. He’d had a mean streak a mile long. She’d dated him because her parents arranged it all.

They made sure she was constantly in contact with him. Inviting him to dinner, making sure they were together for dates out. She was never bored because Carey was always talking … always. Sometimes, she actually fell asleep listening to him.

Shaking her head, she rubbed at her temples as the music vibrated the walls.

So, all alone, she’d moved out of her parents’ house and come here. Her grandparents had left her some money in their will, so she’d made her escape from the constant pressure of being advised to have kids.

She worked with kids  Monday through to Friday as a teaching assistant, helping where children needed her most.

At twenty-five years old, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that settling down, marriage, kids, none of that was for her right now. She was still a virgin. There was no way she’d be giving herself to Carey, and when he’d tried on prom night she’d made sure he knew the score. Her body was her own.

Sitting down in the center of her hallway, she rested her hands on her knees and took in a giant breath.

Everything is fine. More than fine. It’s just loud music like it is every single night.

The first night, she’d been fine with it. In fact, she’d even danced around her home, crazy because that was what it was, her home. She’d been so excited and so happy that nothing had gone wrong.

She hated being negative but she’d also seen disaster over the years, and she didn’t want to think about it.

Feminine screams filled the air, and she opened her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t get to sleep tonight.

Determined to do something about it, she opened the door just as someone knocked.

“Wow, good timing.”

She stared at her neighbor of a week and refused to look at his muscular, inked body, which he had on full display as he only wore a pair of swimming trunks. She’d already seen from her bedroom that he owned a pool, and she didn’t. The previous owner, Slade something, had told her the pool was perfection, but he’d been in love with his neighbor, and she didn’t intend to ever fall for this guy.

“So, I was wondering, you want to come and join the party?” he asked, sticking his hand out toward her. “I’m Zane Webster.”

Staring at his hand, she didn’t want to be rude, and years of being taught proper etiquette had her gripping his hand, not too hard though. Her mother’s constant nagging about a woman not wanting to appear butch and strong kept rolling around her head.

“Hi, I’m Wynter Griffin.”

“Pretty name for a beautiful woman. How about you join us?”

She shook her head. “I was, erm, I was wondering…” She really didn’t want to think about how good it felt holding his hand, or how nice he looked.

Nice was too subtle a word.

He was fucking hot.

She never swore though.

Often in her mind but never out loud for anyone to hear.

Swearing made men think of the gutter, and like her mother always said, the key to a good marriage is sacrifice, a lot of it, to be a happy bunny. What Wynter got from that was to grit your teeth when your husband pisses you off.

“If you could perhaps turn the music down a little?”

“It’s Friday night.” He smirked.

She really didn’t like it when men smirked. To her it was like he was insulting her.

Be calm, Wynter. Be so calm.

“You’ve played it late every single day this week. It has been a party every single day.” She kept trying to remain calm. Nothing good ever, ever came of losing your temper.

See, Mommy, I’m being a good girl.

A very good girl.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a party all week. These places are designed for partying, right? I mean, we’re set back from the street. The trees are large enough that the music doesn’t carry, and no one complains.”

I’m trying to complain.

“I really need to get some sleep.”

“Come on, Wynter, have a little fun. Don’t be a stick in the mud.”

She glared at him. “A stick in the mud? Really?”

He stared at her, and she saw the hard set of his jaw, which again enhanced his muscular physique. She loved his ink, and had always wanted to get a tattoo, but her parents wouldn’t like it.

If anything risked her getting the third degree, she avoided it. The bonus to living on her own, though, was she didn’t have to listen to it every single day, just when they decided to visit, which was never right now.

They didn’t want to help, so she was all on her own.

“Look, princess, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”

“Princess?” she asked. “With how loud and how long you’ve been playing music, I should call the police and have you arrested, or at the very least fined.”

“You got a problem with my music?”

“Yeah, it’s too loud, and it’s awful. This is not music, it’s noise. Can’t you have any consideration for other people?” She took a deep breath and completely regretted her outburst.

He held his hands up. “Whatever the princess wants, right?”

“No, don’t be like that. I just want it to be a little quieter.” She didn’t want to start an argument with her neighbor.

She’d seen television shows devoted to how dangerous it could be. This wasn’t supposed to be a bad experience, but a very enjoyable one.

“Party’s over. Everyone out!”

She watched as Zane ran through his place, and she stood on her doorstep as one by one he kicked everyone out, calling the party to an end.

The music turned off, and she wrapped her arms around herself as guilt rushed through her.

His guests, or friends, or both, all glared at her, calling her names.

“Prissy bitch.”

“Stick in the mud.”

“Boring bitch.”

She’d heard a lot of things in her time, but thirty minutes later, she stood on her very quiet doorstep, and Zane came toward her.

She felt awful and for good reason. She’d totally lashed out.

“Look, princess, I don’t know if you understand this, but if you’ve got a problem with someone, you don’t have to go to the police. You can just come right over to my place and tell me. Was it so hard to just knock and ask to turn the music down?” Zane asked.

“I don’t mind the music, but you had it on all week, and I was tired.”

“You could have enjoyed the party.”

She shook her head, wishing the guilt would disappear. This wasn’t what she wanted, not by a long shot.

Turning on her heel, she stepped over her threshold and glanced back. “My name’s Wynter, not princess.”

“Yeah, I’ll remember that, princess. I’ll be sure to.”

She closed the door, and leaned against it, slumping a little. In the back of her mind, she heard her mom berate her, and she gritted her teeth.

“Shut up, this is my house, and if I want to slump, I’ll damn well slump.”

Moving away from her door, she went up to her bedroom, stripping down and changing into bed shorts and shirt, she brushed her hair, looking out over the garden. She saw Zane in his, and she couldn’t resist watching him as he picked up the trash. He hadn’t put on a shirt, and with each movement his muscles seemed to ripple. Biting her lip, she wondered what it would be like to run her hands down his back, to hold him as he drove deep inside her.

She gasped, pressing her thighs together as the erotic thought rushed through her mind, sending fire into her body.

****

“I can’t believe she got you to break up the party,” Jones said.

“Yeah, and I can’t believe how unlucky you’ve gotten to be put next to a bitch,” Riot said.

Zane stared at his friends, who’d stopped by to help him. It was Saturday morning, and he had most of the outside cleaned up.

His friends were his rock, and they’d helped him move in and to put a real stamp on the place. He hated feeling like he was in a moving place, so getting everything set up meant a great deal to him.

His home was his comfort zone, and he’d fallen in love with this place the moment he saw it. Cassie, the woman who owned it before him, had kept the walls a plain magnolia and the ceilings white, all very neutral colors.

“It’s fine. She had a point,” Zane said, sticking up for his princess next door. Wynter. He liked the name.

“What point was that?” Silas asked. “To ruin your party?”

“We’d been partying for a week straight. I’m not defending her, but I’m sure if she’d been playing some of that shitty pop music and having lame-ass girly parties, I’d complain.”

Jones, Riot, and Silas stared at each other. “A bunch of chicks throwing pillows, bikinis, and parties, nah, you wouldn’t have complained. You’d be the filling in any sandwiches.”

Zane thought about his blonde-haired, blue-eyed neighbor. He wouldn’t mind seeing her in a bikini. Her hot, curvaceous body would fill one out beautifully. He’d always been a sucker for a woman with curves, never seeing the appeal of the slender woman. He was always put off by their bony hips showing with a bikini, always hard, and it was kind of painful screwing them.

He liked a bit of cushion for his fucking. In that moment he imagined Princess spread out on his bed, her legs open, begging for him to fuck her.

He’d been hoping she’d knock on his door, introducing herself. He hadn’t for a second thought that it would be to hit him with a warning, and looking half-crazed while she did it. Still, he thought she looked hot even when angry.

“What do you know about her then?” Riot asked.

“Know about her?”

“Come on, Zane. You’ve lived next door to her. You’ve got to know something. Is she a natural blonde?”

“I have no idea.”

“Maybe I should take her out for a test drive. I can let you know if she’s a natural or not,” Riot said.

Jealousy struck him hard, and Zane shook his head. “You’re going to leave her alone.” He felt all of his friends’ gazes on him, and he didn’t give a shit. There was no way any of them were going to be dating or even screwing his neighbor.

“Are you calling dibs?” Silas asked.

“Okay, right now I don’t know if you’re doing this to just piss me off or if you have a genuine interest in her.”

Riot shrugged. “Now I’m curious as to why you don’t want me testing her out.”

“She’s my neighbor, Riot. I’m not having you break her heart. I live right next door. You’ve heard of a woman scorned and all that shit, right?”

“Nah,” Silas said. “He likes her. Like really, really likes her.”

Zane ignored them as he grabbed his vacuum and began to clean up the mess. He loved throwing parties, but the cleaning up afterward was always a fucking nightmare. He hated doing it and had no choice, seeing as he didn’t like anyone else going through his stuff, so professional cleaners were out of the question, or at least for him they were. He couldn’t stand them.

He bet Princess loved to clean and keep everything tidy. Opening up his curtains and window to let some fresh air inside, he paused when he caught sight of that very neighbor in a pair of shorts and tank top, mowing her front lawn. Their lawns weren’t much, but she pushed a tiny mower back and forth. When she spun around, he saw her breasts moving with each back and forth motion. Just the sight of her made his dick ache to see what other temptations she hid underneath.

“I’m going to throw this into the trash.” Without waiting for confirmation from his friends, he left his home and stood near his trash bin.

She stopped mowing the moment he appeared.

“Hey,” he said.

“Would you like me to do yours as well?” she asked.

He watched as she wiped her brow. It was really hot out, and he wished she’d forgone the shorts and shirt. “Sure, if it’s not too much trouble.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. I didn’t know if I should do it or not.”

He waited as she turned the mower back on and started to work on his patch.

Heading inside, he saw his three friends in the corridor watching him.

“Admit it, you like her,” Jones said.

“Are you guys ever going to grow up?” he asked, shaking his head.

“If you like her, you should totally take her out a cool drink,” Silas said.

He glanced toward Riot, who stayed silent. “Do you have any advice?”

“If you like her, you’ve got to put your mark on her now, as otherwise you’re totally going to be watching guys pick her up and leave.”

Rolling his eyes, Zane made his way to the fridge. “Would you look at that? Two sodas. You guys will have to find yourself something else to drink.”

As he made his way toward the front of the house, he heard the noise stop. Opening his door, he was tempted to close it, but figured his friends would prank him and lock it, making him look like a complete clown.

“Cold soda?” he asked, holding up one hand.

“Would love it.” She reached out, taking one can from him and smiling. He liked her smile. It was warm, and made him think of long summer nights, along with a lot of other dirty thoughts. The long summer nights thought must only be because it was so warm. There wasn’t any connection between her smile and the feelings she was stirring up inside him.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“No problem. I don’t want it to overgrow and look a mess.” She pointed at the rest of the street. “When I moved in the guy who owned it before me said that the neighbors may be a little picky if it looks a mess. I like this neighborhood.”

“Yeah, I can’t do the whole apartment thing. I know there were a few good places, but I’ve had bad experiences with them.”

“What kind?” she asked.

“Let’s see. A handsy landlord.”

She chuckled. “Really?”

“Yep. He didn’t care who you were, he wanted a piece of the action.”

“Oh, my, that’s just awful,” she said.

“Yep, and then you’ve got the druggies on the top floor. That was a really bad experience if ever I remember one. Then of course I had the leaky roof.”

“Leaky roof?”

“I’ve found apartments are great providing you with lots of people who like their apartment and are not hunting for the next place.”

“Gotcha.”

He nodded. “What about you?”

“Erm, I lived with my parents up until moving here. We’re a big kind of family who believe in staying together.”

Zane figured there was more to the tale but she didn’t let on anything else, and he didn’t pressure her to tell him more.

“This is your first big place?”

“Yes.”

“How old are you?” she asked. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

He laughed. “I’m thirty years old. You?”

“Twenty-five.”

He wouldn’t put his foot in his mouth and tell her she was a little old to still be living with her parents. She wasn’t still living with them, but still, he stayed silent.

“I’m really sorry about last night,” she said. “It had been a long week, and you play rock music so loud that my home was vibrating with it, and I just wanted to get some sleep, but the way I behaved last night, there’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“More than fine, lovely,” Jones said.

He glanced behind him to see his three friends standing in his doorway.

“Hello,” she said.

“Don’t worry, sweet thing, we don’t all live here. We’re just buddies of this guy here, not that he deserves us,” Silas said.

She chuckled. “Well, it’s nice to meet you all.”

“How about you introduce us, Zane? Stop looking like the grumpy guy you are,” Riot said.

Again, she chuckled, and he didn’t want her to stop. He loved the sound.

“These are my friends. Jones is the big guy at the back, there’s Riot, and that one is Silas. They helped me move in.”

She offered a little wave. “Wynter Griffin.”

All three of his friends came out, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.

“You’re a delight,” Silas said.

“You wouldn’t have thought that last night,” she said.

“Which has me wondering what keeps you busy all week?” Jones asked, and Zane didn’t like that any of them were taking an interest.

“I’m a school assistant. Young children eight and nine years old.”

His friends were impressed. Her gaze turned to his. “What do you do?”

“I work in a bar, and on the weekends, we like to pretend we’re a rock band.”

“Really?” she asked.

“We play a couple of gigs, not a big real rock band, but we get by,” he said. He didn’t want to brag.

“Maybe one day I’ll see you guys perform.”

And one day I’ll sing for you naked, just the two of us.