Neighbor Girl (Southern Girl Series Book 2)

by Georgia Cates

  “Night swim.”

  “Mmm… you’ll be freshly fucked for work in the morning. Do her good, Oliver. She’s always cranky as hell on Mondays. A real pain in my ass.”

  Adelyn sighs and holds up her hands. “I’m so done here. Let’s go.”

  “If she’s not wearing a smile in the morning, I’ll know you didn’t do your job right, Oliver Thorn.”

  I have so many responses for that comment, but I choose to keep all of them to myself.

  Adelyn grabs my hand. “We’re going out the back door.”

  “Fine by me.” I don’t have a desire to get groped again.

  Maurice calls out to Adelyn. “Love you, darling.”

  She growls. “Love you, Flamer.”

  The back hall is far less crowded so we’re able to make a fast exit. “You call him Flamer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that not offensive?”

  “I can call him Flamer. You can’t. Unless you become good friends. Which I highly doubt you want to do after that display of foolishness. I’m sorry about that, but he’s flamboyant. The thought of holding back never occurs to him.”

  “There doesn’t seem to be a filter there.”

  “No filter. That’s the perfect way to put it. And you never have to be around him again if you don’t want to.”

  Maurice is a big part of her life. Avoiding him would be difficult.

  There is something I’ve realized the last few weeks. I like being around Adelyn Maxwell. It doesn’t matter what we are doing, I like spending time with her. And I plan on being around a lot. In fact, the thought of not being around her feels wrong. “I don’t think that Maurice and I will be riding motorcycles or boxing together, but I can handle seeing him from time to time.”

  “You make it super easy to like you.”

  “I don’t have to work too hard at liking you either.”

  I use the cab ride home to think about the things Maurice said.

  You want him. He wants you.

  Mmm… you’ll be freshly fucked for work in the morning.

  Do her good, Oliver.

  If she’s not wearing a smile in the morning, I’ll know you didn’t do your job right, Oliver Thorn.

  I have no idea what’s going to happen tonight. But if I’m a lucky motherfucker, Adelyn will give me the chance to make her wear a smile to work in the morning.

  8

  Adelyn Maxwell

  I’m going to kill Maurice. But first I’m going to grab his balls and yank them over his ears. He can wear them like dangling earrings. That would damn sure be flamboyant.

  I can’t believe Maurice said those things. He’s wrong for embarrassing me like that, even if everything he said was right.

  I do want Oliver.

  I’d love to be freshly fucked for work in the morning.

  I’d love for him to do me good.

  I’d love to be wearing an Oliver-issued smile in the morning.

  Three years ago, if a man like Oliver waltzed into my life, I wouldn’t have been this confident. Oliver has awakened something within me that had been dormant. It’s as if only he can bring that part of me alive again. I need it. I want him.

  It’s time to work on that.

  “You grab the beer. I’ll get the towels, and we’ll meet at the pool.”

  I don’t mention anything about him going home to get his trunks because they’re unnecessary. We’re skinny-dipping tonight.

  “On it.”

  I certainly hope so.

  I turn on one exterior light in addition to the one in the pool so we’re not in complete darkness. Skinned-up knees from tripping isn’t sexy. And a fall might prevent me from kneeling later.

  “We need music.”

  “No Whitney Houston, please. It could cause some seriously unwelcome flashbacks.”

  I laugh. “Okay. No Whitney. What about Singer-Songwriters radio?”

  “Sounds good.”

  A slow, seductive song begins. It couldn’t have worked out better if I’d chosen it myself.

  Oliver’s sitting on the edge of a lounger, unmoving. Is he waiting for some kind of confirmation this is actually happening? That we’re really getting naked?

  Someone has to get this going. I guess it’ll be me.

  I walk over to the steps leading into the shallow end and kick out of my shoes. Pulling my shirt over my head, I drop it on the stone pool decking. I unclasp the back of my bra and unite it with my shirt. “Night swimming is actually better for me anyway. I can’t stay out long during the day because I burn so easily, even with sunscreen.”

  He’s watching me strip. No shame. Not even a hint of pretending he’s not.

  He finally gets up when I wiggle out of my shorts and panties. I was beginning to wonder if he’d changed his mind about coming in.

  I descend the steps into the water until I’m submerged to my shoulders, the bottom of my hair floating around me like the painting Ophelia. “Feels like bath water tonight.”

  I watch Oliver take off his clothes and I’m sort of kicking myself for not turning on more lights. I would love to get a better look at his body. But I guess there’s time for that later. Hopefully.

  I dip my head backward and wet the top of my hair as he walks into the pool. When I lift, I slick my hair back to keep the water out of my eyes.

  Oliver submerges and then pops up, wiping the water from his face.

  “Feels good, right?”

  “Feels great.”

  I move backward until I reach the wall. The water ejecting from the spout hits my back, massaging the muscle. “You were a good sport tonight. I realize a lot of straight men would not have gone along with that at all.”

  “If I’m being honest, I probably wouldn’t have had I known prior I would become part of the show.”

  “You didn’t seem flustered at all. I thought you looked like you were handling it well.”

  “That was for you.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “It wasn’t horrible. But some dude grabbing my junk in a crowd wasn’t cool.”

  I’m certain the groper did it with the intentions of a laugh since it was very obvious that Oliver is straight. I know those people. They aren’t cruel or aggressive but it was in poor taste. And it’s a big deal for Oliver. I see it on his face. He feels violated. “Groping you wasn’t okay. I would feel completely violated if someone did that to me. I’m sorry it happened and I won’t ever ask you to go back.”

  “Never going back will be all right with me.”

  “I know all of it, including Maurice, was a lot to handle. It was completely out of your comfort zone, but thank you for not being unkind to him. Or the others.”

  Oliver grabs two beers from the decking and swims over to hand one to me. “I can be kind.”

  “I’m seeing that.”

  He turns and leans against the wall so we’re side by side. I’m like a lure bobbing on the top of the water waiting for him to bite. “You and Lawrence were pleased with the grand opening event?”

  “Very.”

  “Did Bootylicious enjoy herself?”

  Oliver chuckles. “Bootylicious?”

  “Tight-red-dress woman.”

  “Oh yeah. Marlana. She was definitely feeling no pain.”

  “I noticed she got you on the dance floor a second time.”

  I hope I don’t sound like a prying, jealous girlfriend. Oliver owes me nothing. If he wants that woman, he has every right to take her.

  “I had no choice. She cornered me.”

  “From where I was, it looked like she more than cornered you. She got you out the door.”

  It felt like he disappeared with her for a while. I’d be lying if I said that my stomach wasn’t in knots the whole time I couldn’t put my eyes on him.

  “She’s my customer, and she was hammered. I walked her out so I could put her in a car and know she made it home safely.”

  “She didn’t put the moves on you?”
<
br />   “I didn’t say that.”

  So she did try to get him in bed. I suspected as much from what I saw.

  “Did you fuck her?” Okay. Now I sound like a jealous girlfriend.

  “No.”

  “Must have been hard to pass up an attractive, willing woman like that when she’s throwing herself at you.”

  “Not when a beautiful redhead has been occupying the space in your head for weeks and all you can think about is her instead.”

  Well, damn.

  I’ve thought so often about the way it would feel to be in Oliver’s arms. Have his mouth on mine. Have him inside me. I’ve pictured in my head every possible way for that to happen, and I’m tired of imagining. I want the real thing. I think I’ll lose my mind if I don’t have him.

  I twist to put my beer on the decking, and he mirrors my movement. We move toward one another so slowly the water around us feels motionless.

  We stop short of our lips meeting, only a paper-thin wall of air separating them. The strung-out moment before the kiss. His breath teasing my mouth. It’s all a form of foreplay in itself.

  He pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and sucks hard for a moment before releasing. It’s not done in the gentlest of ways and it’s sexy as hell. “Mmm… I’ve been dying to taste that lip.”

  I drag it back and forth over his mouth, teasing him. Tempting him to suck it again. And he does.

  My wet hands glide up the brawny ridges of his arms, shoulders, and neck. A satin mountain of muscle beneath my palms. My fingertips follow the muscles in the back of his neck in an upward direction. He shivers when my nails lightly scrape his scalp and my fingers slide into his hair.

  Cupping my hips with his hands, he squeezes as they pull me closer. I’m weightless as my knees, shins, and tops of my feet skim the vinyl liner of the pool. Full frontal body contact. Full cock pressed against my stomach. Full-blown desire for this man to take me.

  I press a close-mouthed kiss to his lips. Then another. And another. I open a little at a time until I lure his tongue out to play.

  I dig my nails into his scalp when his tongue touches mine and a sigh-moan breaks free of the breath I’m holding. The sound elicits a chain reaction of events: Oliver grabbing the backs of my upper thighs and pulling me against him. My legs wrapping around him. His erection pressing between my legs.

  Nothing separating us.

  Nothing.

  I thrust my hips back and forth so his hard cock rubs my clit.

  He breaks our kiss. “Oh fuck, that feels so good.”

  It feels magnificent. Pleasure without penetration. Without gamble. But also without full satisfaction. It isn’t enough.

  “I’ve wanted you since day one. You feel even better than I imagined. So soft.”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  And kiss me he does. Tongues clashing in an erotic dance I’ve never experienced before. Is it him? Is that why I’m so turned on? Or is it because it’s been so long?

  I don’t know but I need more.

  My hands leave his hair and travel over his shoulders. Seeing him shirtless was incredible but feeling him shirtless and wet is un-fucking-believable.

  “You’re so sexy,” he says, his mouth against mine.

  I want everything Oliver has to give. And judging by his hard cock pushing against me, he wants to give it to me. But he won’t be able to give it here.

  “Let’s go to my bedroom.”

  “Yes.”

  We break contact and leave the pool. I’m squeezing the water from my hair when Oliver pushes himself against me from behind and wraps his towel around both of us. Sort of. It barely reaches around to cover me.

  His wet naked front is pressed to my back, his erection poking my ass cheek. I consider giving in and rolling with this scenario. Bending over and letting him fuck me from behind right here and right now. But that will be done and over too soon. I want to prolong this and make it last, hopefully all night.

  His arms wrap around my shoulders and his lips skim the side of my neck, lingering in the bend where it meets my shoulder. He scrapes my skin with his teeth and then sucks it into his mouth and gently bites. The very core of my desire blazes as my body anticipates the things Oliver is going to do to me. And then out of the clear blue, the most telling thought in the world occurs to me.

  I don’t buy condoms. I buy batteries instead.

  “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “Do you have condoms?”

  “None on me at the moment. I’ve got a new box at my place though.”

  “You’re gonna need to go get them.”

  He releases me and bends down to get his clothes. “Don’t dress. It’s late. The neighbors aren’t out. Just go in the towel.” I don’t want any delays when he returns.

  I go up on my tiptoes to nip his bottom lip. “I’ll be in the bedroom waiting. Don’t be long.”

  “Be back in a flash.”

  I have a few minutes before Oliver returns so I comb my hair and pull it into a bun on top of my head. He has already kissed me but I still brush my teeth and apply a thin layer of lip balm. No one is turned off by fresh breath and soft lips.

  I hear the chime of the alarm system when the door opens and know that he’s back. What should I do with myself? Strike a sexy pose? No. A pose is just that. A pose. It looks fake.

  I go with standing next to the bed holding the top of my towel. Seems natural. Not staged.

  Oliver crosses my bedroom and stops in front of me. “Hi.”

  He always amuses me saying that as though we’re meeting for the first time. “Hi.”

  He holds up the box of condoms. “I have goodies.”

  “I see that.”

  He tears into the box of condoms and takes out the roll. He tears off several squares and tosses them on my nightstand

  “I plan on there being a next time so these are staying here.”

  He opens the top drawer to deposit the box and I cringe. If he sees my collection of vibrators and bullets, he doesn’t say anything. He’s either blind as a damn bat or thinks it’s in bad taste to bring up the BOBs in my life.

  He closes the drawer and that cocky grin of his spreads, the ungentlemanly one.

  Yup. He saw everything.

  “Umm… yeah.” It is what it is. No need to try and explain.

  He untucks his towel and allows it to drop to the floor before untucking mine, not asking permission. And that’s fine by me.

  We’re naked and illuminated only by the soft light of the bedside lamp. The self-conscious part of me wants to reach for the switch so Oliver can’t see the scars of what Martin’s knife did to me, but I command my twitchy fingers to stay where they are.

  Oliver needs to see.

  He presses a kiss below my ear and moves his mouth down the side of my neck. His strong hands similarly mimic the downward motion beginning at my ribcage and moving down my sides, waist, and hips.

  He kisses the first faded white line he encounters on my body, and then the next, and the next, until all of them have known the gentle kiss of his lips.

  I close my eyes and concentrate on what he’s doing. Just feeling. Enjoying the pleasure of being touched for the first time in years.

  Four years. Almost half of my twenties gone without the touch of a man.

  Such a shame. A damn waste.

  “Sit on the bed.”

  I step backward until the backs of my legs touch the bed. After lowering myself, I lean back on my hands as he lifts my feet from the floor and hooks them over his shoulders. I could almost come just seeing him between my legs.

  He doesn’t put his mouth on me as I expect. Instead he uses both hands to rub my groin around the bends of my legs. “Scoot back and lie flat. Breathe deep and completely relax. This is going to take a while.”

  Sliding backward, I lower my upper body and lie flat on the bed. He taps my hip. “Lift up.”

  I do as he says and he slides one of my pillows under my bottom, whi
ch sends my curiosity soaring through the roof. I can’t stand not knowing what’s about to happen. “What are we doing here?”

  “Patience. You’ll see.”

  He bends one leg, and then the other, so the soles of my feet are pressed together, my legs frogged apart. “You’re going to enjoy this. Promise.”

  He resumes the kneading motion of my groin, his fingers rubbing up and down on the area beside my labial lips. A slow build. It’s like holding a lit match next to the fuse of a bomb, threatening to bring it close enough to light it on fire. Yet he doesn’t.

  Oliver’s palm forms a cup over the entire area between my legs, his fingertips applying inward pressure on my oh-so-good spot as his hand moves in a circular motion. “That’s it. Rock your hips against me.”

  Damn. I didn’t even realize I was moving.

  I reach over my head and grasp the edge of the mattress and squeeze. I hold on for dear life because I’m soaring high, so high that I’m afraid I’ll float away if I don’t.

  My eyes flutter open when I feel the rhythmic suction of his mouth on my clit. Suck-release. Suck-release. Suck-release.

  “Ohh… ohh.” The sounds coming from my mouth mostly resemble incoherent garble as warm fuzzies pulsate in my lower abdomen in preparation for what’s coming.

  My body simultaneously tenses and relaxes. The two happening at the same time doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t have to. It feels too good to think about why they’re synchronized.

  I put my fingers into his hair and fist the top while I squirm beneath him. Tingly waves of sensation toss and turn deep within my pelvis. An orgasmic storm brewing. A tornado of moans, groans, and panted breathing leaves my mouth when the rhythmic flutters in my pelvis rush back and forth like a raging tide racing in for the shore.

  Oh my God. I’m coming. So hard.

  I close my eyes and surrender to the rhythmic twitching inside me, pulsation in my face, warm flush growing on my chest. They’re all accomplices to the euphoria coursing throughout me.

  A cocktail of those wonderful sexual neurochemicals hits my veins like an intense dose of heroin. There’s a science behind an orgasm, and it’s a complicated thing I don’t dare to understand. Good thing I don’t need to in order to enjoy it.