Fucking hell, she’s at it again.

I was under the impression that these homes were new builds. Obviously, they aren’t or at least this unit in particular is not. It’s made to look like the others, but if it’s a new build they fucking skimped on the basics—such as insulation. Every fucking night for the past two weeks I’ve lain in my bedroom while hearing my next-door neighbor in hers.

Rory.

That’s what Ryan calls her. It fits her really, matches that sass she throws around and that thick main of auburn hair. She’s the type of woman that would have challenged me, would have made me want to see if I could dominate her. The type of woman I would have enjoyed… before Vicki fucked up my life.

I hear that fucking moan she lets out. The same moan I’ve heard almost every night since I moved here. The same moan that haunts my damn dick. He hears it and it’s like a fucking free for all. I go instantly hard. So far, I’ve resisted jacking off to her noises. It hasn’t been easy. I close my eyes and try to blot out her whimpering that I hear through the wall—whimpers along with that damn hum of her vibrator. She needs a man, a real dick thrusting deep inside of her, driving her to the edge, not some silicone wanna-be.

“Yess…”

That muffled cry is nearly my undoing. I have the strongest urge to go over there and bury myself deep inside of her. I want to plant myself so deep that my balls are drenched in the wetness dripping from her pussy. Maybe then I could fuck this need out of my system.

“More! I need more!” she cries and if I didn’t know better, I would think she’s putting on this damn show just to torture me. I don’t think that’s the case though. I’ve never been here since she moved in. There’s no way she could know how thin our walls are. The rest of the house seems solid. I can’t hear her in any other part—and I hate it, but I’ve actually tried. It’s only these two rooms that seem to be the weak spot.

What would she do if she knew I could hear her making herself come? Would it excite her more? Would she get even wetter? Or would she go shy and stop?

The urge to find out nearly strangles me. I’m already lying on the bed, curled into my damn wall to listen to her. What would be the harm in taking that one step? The step to show her I’m listening…

“Need more,” she whines, her voice broken.

The volume of the hum has increased. It seems my neighbor’s toy isn’t working like it normally does. I look over at the half empty bottle of tequila I’ve downed since Ryan went to bed. I seem to do that more and more. It helps numb the loneliness, erase the memories… I’m way too drunk to be dealing with this shit tonight. I need to go take a cold shower and stop listening to that fucking voice in my head. The one that tells me I could make her come just by my voice. The one that has me pushing my hand into my gym shorts, wrapping it around my cock and squeezing. I hold my cock so tight that it’s painful, choking the cum, willing the hunger to go away.

I hear a crash of something hit against the other side of my wall, I freeze. The humming instantly dies.

She threw her vibrator because it wasn’t enough.

She’s in the room next to mine probably naked, definitely primed for more and hungry for it.

I close my eyes. It doesn’t take very much imagination at all to pull her up in my mind. That gorgeous wavy hair strung across her pillow, her curvy, sexy as fuck and completely feminine body naked and glistening from a sheen of sweat that the hunger has created. Those large, round breasts rising and falling with need, her hips thrusting forward...

I can see her almost as clear as if she were lying in my bed right beside me.

Damn it.

I let go of my cock. Looks like neither of us will be satisfied tonight.