I’ve finally seen a drawback to the community pool that my complex has.

My new neighbor.

It’s Saturday and it’s almost eighty degrees. Which is nothing new for the summers here. I love the weather here in Montana actually. The nights are cool—even in the summer—and the days have the heat without the humidity I experienced back east. I’m lying on a lounger, enjoying my day off of work and soaking up the sun. I’ve been working so much that I was starting to look as pale as a ghost.

All this, the fact I’m in my bathing suit enjoying beautiful weather, that I have the day off work, plus I managed to pay all of my bills for the month and still have money left over—should make me extremely happy.

And it does—to a point.

There’s one huge shadow preventing total happiness, however.

I adjust my sunglasses, and let the sun try and burn away the stress inside of me. I normally wouldn’t wear sunglasses. I’m playing with fire doing it now. I’m going to have large white circles around my eyes from them. I know it, but I continue to wear them. I don’t have a choice. If I take them off, then my damn neighbor will know I keep staring at him.

And I am staring.

I couldn’t keep from it if I wanted to. I don’t know a woman alive that could. He’s that pretty.

Okay, I know that men aren’t supposed to be described as pretty, but heck there’s not another word that fits him. He’s perfection. He’s got his hair pulled up again and he’s wearing these bright red swim trunks. His body has this golden tan everywhere you look. It’s almost so unnatural you’d think it was fake, but for some reason it’s easy to tell that he got his tan the old-fashioned way. His trunks hang low on him and there’s still no sign of pale white skin—which makes me think the dude has no tan lines at all. Like, where did he come from that he could be naked out in the sun all day? Was he a cabana boy on an island at one of those nude beaches? He doesn’t carry himself like a cabana boy—not that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting any, but still…

One thing that does show with the low hung trunks though…. Those freaking abs!

He has abs that are chiseled out of freaking stone and the indentions are so pronounced you want to run your tongue through each groove.

I hate the man, but just watching him stand up, those trunks clinging to his powerful body and water dripping from his hair and following imaginary lines down his chest and stomach—lines I’d love to lick—is enough to make me wet. So wet, that I can feel it gather on the inside of my swimsuit and paint the inside of my thighs. So wet, that my nipples are hard against the fabric and I’m glad I paid extra for the thick supportive cups on the inside of my suit.

“Damn. When did that move in?”

I frown as I look over at my other neighbor, Sheila. She’s in the duplex across the street. I don’t like her. I mean, I don’t dislike her—not really, but she’s not one of my favorite people. She’s never done anything to me personally, but she’s definitely a busy body who puts her nose in everyone’s business. She also makes a living ignoring the girl code. When I say that, I mean that she’s sleeping with Carla’s—the woman unlucky enough to live in the house connected to Sheila—husband.

Carla is a nurse and she works the graveyard shift—which gives her man way too much time to play around and he does like to play. I don’t know what he does—besides cheat on a good woman with a skank—but whatever it is, it gives him plenty of free time.

The whole situation is sad. I want to tell Carla, but I’ve learned the hard way to stay out of people’s lives. I figure Carla is a smart woman. If she doesn’t know what’s going on, she soon will. I don’t know her that well. If I did, maybe I’d try to warn her. Come to think of it, that might be the reason I try to avoid Carla in the first place. I don’t want a deep friendship with her, because if I had one I’d feel obligated to tell her the truth.

“Last week,” I tell her, not bothering to act like I have no idea what she’s talking about. I do know, because my eyes have barely left him since I’ve been out here and Sheila being a woman… I figure she’s doing the same thing. “He lives in the unit right beside me,” I tell her reluctantly. It shouldn’t matter. From what I know of my new neighbor, he’ll shut Sheila down quick and if he doesn’t then I’ll quit having dreams about him.

I bite my lip as the memories of the dreams come to my mind. They’re getting more and more detailed. Last night I woke up from a dream so real I could feel him between my legs. I had to dig into my toy drawer, find my vibrator and finish myself off. I did that while imagining it was my new neighbor between my legs with his mouth.

It's crazy.

I hate him, and yet I’m so attracted to him that my body feels like it’s on fire just from looking at him.

I don’t even know his name…. Although, I do know his son’s name is Ryan and that the man dotes on him. Seeing him with his son is just as hot as watching the water drip down his body.

“Where?” Sheila asks, reminding me she’s there. I sigh and take a drink of my tea, before replacing the cup back on the small table beside my lounger.

“Next door to me,” I tell her, pulling my eyes from my new sexy—but asshole—neighbor.

I look up at the sky instead, closing my eyes and doing my best to dismiss the neighbor, the cute little boy, and Sheila the skank from my mind.

Sadly, none of this works.

“I’m about to go up to that man and show him what he’s been missing,” she boasts and my lips spread in an annoyed line. I figure he’ll shoot her down immediately, but who knows? Sheila is thin with fake blonde hair that all the men seem to like and even faker boobs that they definitely like—a fact Sheila plays up since she always shows more cleavage than Dolly Parton in a topless bar on all you can drink night.

Against my will, my gaze goes back to my jerk-face neighbor, his beautiful kid and Sheila. I see him turn to her as she walks along the side of the pool. My hand tightens into a fist and something close to jealousy springs up—which is crazy. You can’t be jealous over a man who treated you like the dirt he scrapes out under his fingernails. Then again, you shouldn’t be having hot sex dreams about the same man either.

“Hi there,” Sheila’s voice hits me, and with that fake little giggle she adds it feels like a cat clawing against my skin. “You look like you’re having a lot of fun over here,” she adds. “I thought I might join you.”

A cat clawing against my skin that is obviously in heat.

I don’t hear my neighbor say anything—not even a grunt. Slowly my hand relaxes.

“I thought maybe I could get a little wet with you,” she says, her voice dropping down into what I’m sure she thinks is her bedroom voice. I gasp. I can’t stop myself. She said that shit to him, right in front of his son. My fist tightens up again and this time I want to claw her eyes out. I lift off my sunglasses, needing to see my neighbor’s reaction, but mostly wanting to check on his little boy.

I’m not a mother, but I’ve had a bad one and something about that little boy kind of reminds me of my brother… when he was young… when the world hadn’t changed him… when my mother hadn’t destroyed him…

I tap down the urge to swoop in and take the little boy in my arms and protect him—barely. Instead, I giggle. I do this because the man turns around and looks at her and from my angle I can see the cold steel of anger on his beautiful face.

“Back off,” he growls, the words like steel stabbing through the air.

“I just—”

“I know what you’re doing. You know what you’re doing. I’m telling you right now I’m not interested. I don’t want you in my air. So back off.”

“I… You’re in a community pool!” Sheila cries.

“You’re in my air,” he warns and there goes that giggle again.

Sheila stands there for a moment shaking her head. Finally, she makes a noise of disgust and walks away. Thankfully she doesn’t come back over here, she keeps walking back toward her house.

The giggle—still on my lips—stops almost instantly when the man turns to look at me. His brown eyes are intense, his face still stone, but different than the look he gave Sheila. I’m not sure why it feels different—but it does.

“Hi, Rory!” Ryan calls. “Watch this!” I tear my eyes away from the father to look at the son, a smile instantly stretching my lips as I watch the little boy dive off the side of the pool and belly-flop into the water making a huge splash.

“That’s awesome, Ryan,” I laugh. I hear the neighbor then, an almost growl that’s low in sound, but definitely a warning.

I jerk back around to look at him and he looks like he wants to kill me. That might sound extreme, but that’s definitely what I see coming from him. I pin him with my best fuck-you look. If he thinks he can intimidate me, the man seriously needs to think again. I come from a long line of people who tried to intimidate, belittle, and destroy me.

He’s nothing.

“You want to come swim?” Ryan asks, his voice full of hope.

I make myself get up and walk over to the edge of the pool where Ryan has perched himself. His father is still in the same spot, his eyes glued to me. I don’t have to look at him to know that’s true. I feel his heated gaze the entire time I walk toward his son. If it wasn’t for years of experience, I would have stumbled. The truth is, however, that despite the dreams and the pull I have with this man, I know he’s an enemy. I don’t know why he is, but I’m not stupid even if he might think I am. Therefore, I walk as gracefully as I can and ignore him. I bend down to touch his son’s hair. I don’t know why I feel a connection with this boy, but I do and I refuse to hurt him. I grin at him, even as I feel his father getting closer.

“I’m sorry, Ryan. I can’t. I have to go get ready for work,” I lie. It’s my day off and I really want to enjoy it by the pool, but with Ryan’s father close by there will be no enjoyment.

“Bummer,” he says, clearly disappointed.

“Yeah,” I grin. “Bummer. You have fun for me though, okay?”

“Okay, Rory!” he says and I ruffle his hair and stand back up, still ignoring Ryan’s father. I don’t look at him; I don’t speak to him. Still, I know he’s watching me. His heated gaze burns into my back the entire time I walk back to the house.