Vanessa

My neighbor is an arrogant, self-righteous prick.

The whole neighborhood is afraid of him, but I’m not. I never have been. He’s so full of himself that it makes me sick.

I grab my pillow and bring it over my face, hoping to stifle the noise, but it doesn’t work. I can still hear the loud music—the booming and thundering of the bass and lyrics by Ludacris. I love Ludacris, but not when his music is being played at this hour.

Not fucking now.

I grit my teeth together, tossing the pillow aside and sitting up.

“That’s it!” I snap. I shove out of bed and slide into my slippers. I don’t give a damn if I’m only wearing my silk gown. He’s going to know how serious I am when I show up like this.

I rush down the hallway and yank the front door open, zooming across the street, in between the many cars parked at the curb of his two-story home. There are college students outside, smoking and drinking. Some see me and they snicker at my attire.

“What the hell are you looking at?” I snap at one of the girls who’s giving me a nasty look. She jerks her gaze away, but not without an eye roll.

I stomp up the stoop and bang my fist on the door. The booming of the music drowns it out but I continue banging until the song ends. The banging is louder when the song cuts off and I finally hear footsteps coming from the other side.

“Who the fuck is banging on my goddamn door like that!” a deep voice shouts. I know that voice. I’d know it from anywhere honestly.

It’s him. Axel fucking Waters. The bad boy across the street. The asshole that can never give his neighbors a peaceful night or cut any of us a fucking break.

He stayed in this house when his grandmother passed away. His mom has been in jail since he was eight years old for dealing drugs and prostitution and during my six years staying here, I’ve never heard of or seen his father.

I knew about his mom from Mrs. Henley, the elderly woman next door who always bakes Justine and me apple pies during the holidays. His grandma was a sweet woman. I wish some of that sweetness had been passed down to him.

The door swings open and a tall, strong body appears.

He’s a large man, tall and muscular, but he doesn’t intimidate me. He may scare the neighborhood with his hard gray eyes and messy hair, but he can’t scare me. He wears black jeans and a black T-shirt, a sleeve of tattoos on each arm. There is one tattoo on his neck. His grandma’s name, Tina.

He grips the door handle with inked knuckles, glaring down at me. His firm, square jaw pulses as he looks me over. “Jesus. Again! What the fuck do you want now?” he grouses.

“I want you to turn your music down, Axel!”

He smirks at that. “You’re here to do this shit again? I’ve told you a thousand times I’m not turning my music down for you. It’s a fucking party. The music is supposed to be loud. Get the hell over it, Firecracker.”

“Don’t call me that.” I cross my arms tightly when I feel him staring at my breasts. “You need to get these people out of here and cut that music off. It’s three in the morning and I have to be up in three hours for work and then a yoga class.”

He looks from me to the college kids standing in the yard. They’re laughing over stupid online videos. He picks up a hand and whistles his fingers at them. When they see him, they pick up their heads and come his way.

“Get in the house and party in there,” he tells them. “But don’t be gentle. Get fucking wild. Get your money’s worth.”

“Sure thing, Ax,” one girl with blond hair says with a grin.

I scoff and roll my eyes when they troop inside, yelling and laughing even louder. He shuts the door behind them and the music from the party becomes muffled, but it is still loud. When he steps towards me, his firm chest poking out, he laughs a deep, throaty laugh.

“There. You got one thing you wanted. They aren’t out here anymore. Now how about you get off my porch, go home, and get those three hours of sleep you claim you need, Firecracker.” He picks a hand up to touch my red hair. I assume it’s the reason he even calls me that. I loathe the name. I’ve despised it for years now.

I pull away from him. “I’m not leaving until you at least turn the music down.”

“Oh, I’m not turning it down,” he chuckles, flashing an annoyingly sexy smile.

“Well then I’m not leaving.”

He shrugs. “That’s cool with me. Stay. Maybe you’ll enjoy yourself and loosen that tight ass of yours a little bit.”

“Oh, fuck you,” I snap back. “The whole neighborhood hates you, Axel! They want you gone. We know calling the cops doesn’t work because your uncle is the Sheriff but something’s gonna come and bite you in the ass one day and the people that live here aren’t going to back you up.”

“You think I need help, baby? I don’t need help from anyone but myself.” He drops his hand down on my shoulder and reels me in. His nostrils flare up when he inhales. “You always smell good. Like honey. I’m starting to wonder how you taste, smelling this good all the damn time.”

“Fuck off.” I pull away from him, but it’s so damn hard to ignore the burning desire in my belly. He catches me by the waist before I can get too far away. When he picks me up, I yelp. He runs a hand over my ass before dropping me down on top of the wide porch rail.

“You don’t have any fucking panties on,” he groans when his hand slides between my thighs. “Is this why you’ve come over here? To let me play with your pussy?”

I breathe harder. “You know why I’m here. Turn the music down. Some people actually work for a living. We don’t scam college students into paying to attend lame-ass house parties.”

“My lame-ass house parties make me a shit load of money.” He grips my upper thighs and hauls them apart. I gasp when he plants his large hand on my hip to hold me in place and then lowers his face between my legs.

“What the hell are you doing?” I try to ask with anger in my voice but I can’t. I’m winded all of a sudden. His hand is still firm on my hip while his other shoves my silky pink gown up. The material bundles around my waist and the wind bites at my ass.

“What does it look like? I’m about to eat your pussy,” he growls, nipping at my thighs. My ass hangs over the rails, my legs still spread apart. I try to bring them together again but he’s too strong. One of his hands is still between my legs, keeping them wrenched apart. “You’ll sleep real good when I’m finished with you. I bet the music won’t even bother you when your head hits the pillows.”

After he says that, I feel something hot cover my clit. His tongue. He slides it through, up and down, and then drives it inside me. I can’t fight the moan that escapes me.

“Damn, you’re so fucking sweet, firecracker.” He clutches my waist and I gasp, watching as he dives in deeper and eats my pussy. He growls the deeper he gets between my legs, sucking and licking, acting like he fucking owns me.

When he sucks on my clit and circles his tongue around it, I moan way too loudly, half pushing, have pulling at him. I don’t know what I want more—for him to stop or for him to keep going.

He’s so good—too good.

He always does this—finds a way to make me stop talking. One time he bent me over in his backyard and fingered me from behind. Another time he dry humped me on the grass beside his house until I was so wet and ended up begging him to fuck me. Of course he didn’t do it. He told me to leave, which pissed me off even more because I was riled up, horny, and needed to be satisfied. And now he’s eating me. As badly as I want him to stop… he can’t yet.

It’s been so long since the last time I’ve had real sex. Months.

His tongue is both rough and gentle. He eats me with feral growls, still holding my waist tight so I don’t fall backwards. He’s burying his tongue deeper and deeper and I squeeze a handful of his hair, positioning him to my liking.

“Please,” I beg. I have no idea what I’m begging for.

The door creaks open behind him and he pulls back to look. I start to yank away, embarrassment sweeping over me, but then he roars, “Go back in the fucking house!” to the college boy with the drink in his hand.

The boy’s eyes stretch wide but he makes no room for error. He hurries back inside, slamming the door, and Axel returns to me. His hard gray eyes move up to mine, his hands still holding me tight. His tongue circles my throbbing, aching clit all over again and I unleash a trapped breath, my head falling back.

“Your pussy tastes just like honey, firecracker. I’ve been wanting to eat you for a long fucking time,” he mumbles when he’s barely pulled up.

“You need to stop,” I tell him, breathless. “I hate doing this with you.”

“Fuck that. I’m not stopping until I feel your sweet juices all over my fucking mouth.” He goes harder and I squirm, still wanting to put up a fight. My eyes squeeze tight and my moans grow just as loud as the music. I clutch his hair again with one hand and use the other to hold on to the rail, grinding slowly on his tongue, round and round, until he’s hit the perfect spot.

I cum so hard that my entire body rattles on the porch rail. I squeeze my thighs tighter around his head, trying to gain some kind of control. My shrill moan is fortunately drowned out by the bass of his music.

“Shit, yeah,” he groans between my thighs, like he’s won the lottery or something. “That’s what I fucking wanted right there.” He dips a finger inside me. “You’re so fucking wet for me, baby.” My moans are thick as he drops his head and finishes me off with slow, torturous swirls of his tongue.

He jerks away, the lower half of his face damp with what I know is my release. He flashes a cocky smile, standing up tall. I hop down in a hurry, yanking my gown down and stepping away.

Why did I just let him do that? I was supposed to come over here and put my foot down, not let him eat me like I was fresh fruit on a platter. God, I am so weak.

“You satisfied now?” he asks, cocking a brow. “Gonna stop the griping and let me live?”

I frown up at him, but I’m not even sure what to say. I can’t lie and say I’ve never wanted it.

Jackass.

“Go on.” He swipes a careful thumb over his bottom lip and the action brings on an unsolicited throb between my thighs. “Before I decide to put my cock in you right now too. I know that’s what you really want.”

I scowl up at him. He’s nearly eight inches taller than me and I hate that I have to look up so high just to see his eyes. I twist around, stumbling over my own two feet as I dash across the street and into my house.

“Did you tell him to turn the music down?” My roommate, Justine, pops up around the corner with her eye mask pushed up, ruffling her brown hair.

“I did, but you know him. That fucker never listens.” I avoid her eyes, hoping she doesn’t sense my betrayal. We both agreed to hate that jackass across the street when he tossed her boyfriend, Preston, off his porch and threatened him. Because of it, Preston doesn’t like to come to our house much anymore to hang with her. He’s afraid of Axel. Justine will probably lose all respect for me if she finds out what I let him do to me on occasion.

“Well,” she shrugs, “you tried. He just doesn’t care. If calling the cops didn’t work, I don’t know what else will.” She sighs. “Maybe I’ll have to move after all. I’ve been looking and it’s the only solution I can come up with anymore.”

She turns and enters her room again with a yawn. “Goodnight,” she says before shutting the door. “I walk to my room and start up the shower. And while I’m inside it, rinsing traces of him away, all I can think are the words “over my dead body.”

He’s not about to force us out of this home. The rent is cheap and the area is convenient. My job is only ten minutes away. I’ll be damned if I move because I have an obnoxious, arrogant, filthy neighbor who can’t keep his damn hands to himself.