CLARE
It was half past two when I decided Lacrosse and I had enough of Netflix and should get to bed. The pup had settled in perfectly, and I could no longer imagine how it felt to be without her.
Just as I stretched and stood, a noise made me freeze. Listening, I heard nothing but silence. I might have chalked it up to my vivid imagination, or the crime shows I’d been watching, had Lacrosse not started to growl, placing her tiny body in front of me as she looked toward the door.
“Good girl,” I muttered, bending to pat her when another creak outside drove my heart to nearly jump out of my chest.
Someone was walking across my porch, clearly trying to make as little noise as possible. God, if it were a home invader, he would’ve seen the light on. He wouldn’t be dumb enough to try and break in with me awake, right?
Just as I wished Lacrosse were bigger, as more of a threat than anything, someone knocked on my door.
I didn’t hesitate long. No one ready to hurt me would knock first. I turned on the outside lights and looked through the window, seeing Dale standing there. Curious, I opened the door.
“Clare,” he whispered. I could tell he was intoxicated. “Can I come in and…come in?”
I blinked, absolutely taken aback, while Lacrosse had clearly decided he wasn’t a threat. She trotted off, probably to lay down on her blanket next to the sofa.
“Why, Dale? You live next door and it’s the middle of the night.” And why in the world was I inclined to open the door and let him in, despite the late hour?
Maybe it was because of it.
He reached for the screen door, opening it, and stepped forward. “You don’t lock your doors anyway, so I guess I’m letting myself in,” he decided, closing the space between us. I was so dumbstruck, I didn’t move.
My chin tilted up slightly as I glanced up at him, blindly reaching for the switch to turn on the hallway lights. He grasped my hand with surprising precision.
“No,” he muttered, his lips close to mine, the scent of expensive whiskey and his cologne, a heady mix, hitting my nostrils.
“No what? If you want to talk, I at least need to see you,” I replied, finally taking a step back. There weren’t many reasons Dale Harris would be here this late at night, and it definitely didn’t involve shouting.
“I don’t wanna talk.” His words had a soft edge, tinged by alcohol, but they weren’t slurred, making me wonder if he were actually drunk.
“Dale—”
He cupped the back of my neck and silenced me with a kiss that left me weak-kneed. His tongue teased mine, dancing a slow tango, and my heart skipped a few beats as I tried coming up with all the reasons this was possibly the worst idea ever.
First, we were neighbors, and second, we hated each other. He made my life hell, had since I’d moved in, but I had to admit I made it just as hard on him.
I couldn’t help but think the only thing we had in common was the fact we both loved his daughter.
“As I sat in that bar and started checking out the ladies, I wanted to go home with one, wanted to get lost in one for just a few hours. But all I could think was that none of them looked like you. None of them sounded like you.”
Oh god, his words were a warning in and of themselves, but I found myself drawn in by his confession because sometimes, when I was weak and had no defenses left, I pictured him taking me against the shower wall, his strong arms holding me up while he drove into me and made me see stars.
“You needed someone to scream at you? To throw you out? You’ve come to the right place,” I replied, wanting to put up a fight, but hoping he wouldn’t leave.
He caged me between himself and the wall, one hand on either side of my head, as his lower body pressed into me, the feeling of his erection causing a delicious shiver to run down my spine.
“Just give me two hours, then you can kick me out,” he murmured against my lips and kissed me again, letting his hands roam, cupping my breasts through my flimsy shirt.
My nipples pebbled and, Jesus Christ on a cracker, wetness pooled between my legs as he dominated the kiss, as if letting me know I’d never stood a chance to begin with.
And maybe, just maybe, he was right about that.
His lips traveled down my jaw as one hand found its way into my sweatpants. Before I got a chance to protest, to pretend I didn’t want that, didn’t feel the burning need to have him inside me, his finger brushed across my clit before sinking into me without preamble. I gasped, a moan leaving my lips.
His forehead came to rest against mine and I felt as if I were getting drunk on the air we shared. “Fuck, Clare, you’re so wet. God…” The pad of his thumb brushed across my middle, circling the small bundle of nerves, while his finger pumped in and out of me. I grabbed his biceps, holding on for dear life, my legs threatening to give out with every new wave of burning hot pleasure I felt.
I couldn’t remember the last guy who’d taken his time to actually make me feel something instead of just chasing his own pleasure, and I most certainly didn’t recall anyone ever bringing me to the delicious edge as fast as he was.
“Hands on,” I muttered. His hand stilled, giving me a brief second to sort myself out as he gave me a questioning look in the moonlit hallway.
“What?”
My breath came in short bursts, my body aching for the release he’d promised with his touch. I licked my lips.
“I need my hands on you,” I clarified, then grabbed the hem of his shirt, immediately regretting the loss of his hand between my legs. I pulled it off, pressing my palms against his chest, scratching my nails across his nipples. He shivered.
“Change of position,” he decided. I couldn’t agree more, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to have him lose his pants on the way to wherever he decided he’d take me.
He yanked off my top, discarding it onto the floor, before unhooking my bra and depositing that as he moved me away from the wall and toward the stairs. I fumbled with the button of his jeans and pushed my hands into the waistband, finding he’d been a man on a mission because he’d gone commando.
As I brushed my fingertips across his ass, I couldn’t help but feel jealous of all the faceless women he’d considered for the night—soon changing to happiness that he’d come to me instead.
But when his lips closed around my nipple, every thought left my brain as I let the wave of longing wash away my worries, leaving only desire in its wake.