Number Neighbor

by KD Robichaux

  “Jenika,” I whisper, and he lets me go, but his eyes stay on me like a predator’s. “Hey. Sorry, I just need to put on some lipstick and grab my bag. We can’t be out too late tonight. I have to work early.”

  “Ugh, did Dr. Sage call you in?”

  “Yes, he did. I have to be there an hour and half early, so I can only have a few drinks.”

  “Fine! Hurry up and get here. I’m waiting and I got us a table. The perks of showing up before 9:00 p.m.!” she hollers over the loud music.

  “Okay. I’ll be there. See you soon.” I hang up, turning toward Owen. “I have to go. She's waiting on me.” I whisper, delicately grasping his shirt and pulling myself closer to him. “I don't want to, but I have to.”

  “I haven’t been able to get you alone, and now when I do, you have to leave me. Fuck, you have me by the damn balls.”

  I blush, his growl arousing me. “I know. About the leaving part, I mean. Not the balls,” I ramble. “But tomorrow, you can have me all to yourself. At work, we can flirt secretly. You can watch me like you want to and know I will be itching for you to take me.” The last part comes out as a whimper, since he wastes no time lapping at my neck, biting the long column, and that causes a shiver to overcome my whole body.

  “Tomorrow, you need to be early. I’m not messing around, Ivy. Don't make me wait,” he demands, and I feel that threat deep inside me.

  “Yes, sir. I promise.”

  With one last hard kiss to my lips, he fucks my mouth with his tongue and then pushes away. “Do not misbehave. Go now, Ivy.” He grips my ass and pushes me toward my door. I go on shaky legs and enjoy the feeling of his eyes raking me over, taking me in as if I’m irresistible.

  We don't say anything; instead, he leaves me with a slow burn, real anticipation burning through me for the coming twelve hours. It’ll be pure torture, but I would be lying if I said I didn't crave it.

  * * *

  The music is so loud I can barely hear myself think, and that’s all I want to do. My thoughts are clouded with all things Owen. I feel every inch of my skin that he touched tonight burning, and I can’t soothe the sting. I want him, yet I’m terrified of what I will have to do to give in to our desire.

  “That guy over there is staring at you with real fuck-me eyes. Maybe you could fuck him sideways—pretend he's Dr. Sage. Get that practice in, baby girl,” Jenika teases.

  I roll my eyes and sip the margarita I’ve been nursing for nearly an hour. We danced until I was covered in a light sheen of sweat and laughing so hard my abs are sure to be bruised. I need it, the free feeling of being myself while reveling in the fact that everything I’ve always desired is becoming mine. “No, thank you. He's kind of creepy. Real serial killer vibes.”

  Throwing her head back, she lets out a throaty laugh and I can’t help but smile along with her.

  “Besides, I have to leave soon. It’s been fun, but Dr. Sage needs me early tomorrow.”

  “Ugh, he’s a buzz kill. If you two end up being together, please tell him not to suck the life out of you.”

  “I hope he sucks my fucking soul right out through my c-u-next-Tuesday.” I cover my mouth, not believing I actually said that.

  Jenika’s eyes widen, and this time she topples over, holding her stomach in her fit of laughter. “Oh my God, Ivy! Did you just say that? Who are you and just how much tequila is in that damn margarita?”

  No, really. Where did that come from? That is not something I would just say. How much alcohol is in this drink? Before I can answer either of those questions, the light next to my camera on my phone flashes on the table. I give her a goofy look and check my message.

  HunterNumberNeighbor: Did I scare you away? I came thinking about you, and you ghosted me. Not too good for my ego. No, really. Where did you go, lovely Ivy?

  Shit. I totally forgot. I’m really losing my footing right now.

  Me: I couldn't do it. I’m sorry. I like you, Hunter, as a friend, but I’m in love with Owen. I couldn't do that with you. Please say you don't hate me. *watery-eyes emoji

  HunterNumberNeighbor: What if he doesn't end up coming after you? Would you consider me then? What if you end up leaving him? How about then? *big smile emoji.

  I visibly relax in my seat, so glad he isn't calling me every cock-tease name in the book.

  Me: Even if Owen didn't want me, I wouldn't stop wanting him. I would be celibate and single before I ever thought of another man replacing him. Sorry, sweet number neighbor. Friends?

  HunterNumberNeighbor: Ouch, friend-zoned. What a lucky man to have such a loyal woman. I’m jealous. But I get it.

  Me: He’s my everything. I plan to make him love me no matter what I do. He said he wanted me and I’m his, but that could be temporary or a ruse to get me in bed. But I won't stop until he wants me forever.

  HunterNumberNeighbor: What would you do for him? Tell me everything you would be too afraid to tell him.

  I look around, noticing that at some point while I was texting, Jenika had a gentlemen join her, talking her ear off and keeping her distracted. It makes me miss Owen. I want his body heat against me, touching me and filling me.

  Me: Friends don't get to tell, so I guess my secrets are safe with you. I would do anything. Tie myself to his bed naked, even with my fear. I would lie there and beg him to want me. To keep me. I would do anything emotionally and physically for him. He just has to ask.

  HunterNumberNeighbor: Fuck. You are every man’s dream woman. Men can say they don't want someone crazy and clingy, but we do. What I wouldn't give to have you crawling to me and begging for me to love you. How beautiful would that be?

  I smirk, glad I’m only ever going to tell him this. I could never tell Owen. Sure, he has a dirty, dominant, possessive, and wild side, but there is no way he is this kind of crazy. I’m my own brand of psychotic, I guess. And though I will show him this side if I need to, I pray I never have to.

  Me: You would run, I promise. Goodnight, number neighbor. Talk to you tomorrow.

  All this talk makes me miss Owen, so I cut the conversation there and open a new message to the man I want to talk to most.

  Me: I need you and can’t stop thinking about what happened today. Are you sure you want me and weren’t like… drunk or something today? LOL

  My insecurities come out full on with all but a flashing neon sign, and I try to cover it with a joke like I always do.

  Dr. Sage: Don’t ever question my desire and need for you. I won’t be easy with that cunt when I prove my point.

  My core clenches and my whole body heats up again, a tingle starting in my toes and wrapping all the way up my spine.

  Me: I don’t want to go home alone tonight. If you want me, then you would be with me tonight. Calling your bluff hard, sir.

  I hold my breath, wondering how he will take my sense of humor. I’m not used to speaking to him, much less outside of work, and even lesser in a lover’s capacity. My humor is the one thing I’ve always genuinely liked about myself. I don’t know what I’d do if he disliked that part of my personality.

  Thankfully, I don’t have to ponder that thought for very long.

  Dr. Sage: Call it a night and get that beautiful ass home now.

  I grin at his assertiveness. Guess he likes that side of me after all. And Dr. Owen Sage calling me beautiful does tremendous things for my ego, and sets off a flutter… in my vagina.

  Me: I’m so hot for you right now.

  I get up from the table, and when Jenika’s eyes find mine and she sees the happy and anxious look on my face, her lips spread into a wicked smile.

  “Getcha some, girl!” she calls out over the music as I start toward the exit, and my phone buzzes in my hand.

  Dr. Sage: Ivy, control will be practiced tonight. You aren't ready for my cock in your virgin pussy. You’ll get all of me except that tonight. Now get home. I’ll meet you there.

  My pussy clenches at his dirty words.

  Chapter 12

  Ivy


  * * *

  When I arrive home, he’s on my front porch, his shoulder leaned next to the door, his ankles crossed, just like his arms. His crystal blue eyes are a laser as they stare into mine as I come up the steps, the plastic bag hanging from my forearm, and then he turns his wrist slightly toward himself, keeping his arms crossed while he glances down at his shiny watch.

  “That took entirely too long,” he states, his face annoyed but his eyes twinkling with mischief. I love this look on him, so used to seeing him scowl at work.

  “I um… had to make a quick stop. Sorry for making you wait,” I tell him, using my key to unlock the door and push it open, aware of him following me inside. It’s almost a static feeling, the little hairs on my skin standing up and reaching toward his closeness.

  He shuts the door, the deadbolt making an ominously loud clack as he turns it in place, making me jump. “I’m certain I told you to get home immediately,” he murmurs, taking steps until his front is pressed to my back and he towers above me. If I leaned my head back, it’d rest on his wide, muscular chest.

  I close my eyes so all my other senses can focus on the man behind me, and instantly I can smell his intoxicating cologne. The scent goes straight to my pussy, and I grow wet beneath my dress. I realize I still need to respond. “Trust me, it was for the best.”

  Before I know what’s happening, he’s already slid my plastic bag off my arm, holding it out of my reach when my eyes snap open and I swipe for it. As I turn to face him, he lifts a brow at me and smirks when I put my fists on my hips and tap my foot.

  “Let’s see what was so important that you had to disobey me, pretty girl,” he says, and his voice is a mix of reprimand and curiosity, his tone light.

  I pop my hip sassily, my lips twisting as I glare. I give in, knowing I won’t be able to stop him, but I don’t have to be happy about it. All I can do now is try my best to fight the heat climbing from my chest up into my cheeks.

  Pulling the first item out of the bag, he holds it up so the lamp by my couch I left on so I wouldn’t have to come home to a dark house lights it up. “Refreshing wipes,” he reads, turning the package over and scanning the back. When his eyes meet mine, they don’t look happy, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he looks around for a moment, spotting the small wastebasket I have under the table with the lamp and tossing the feminine product in.

  I bite my lip, staying silent as he pulls out the next item from the bag.

  “Mouthwash,” he says, his mouth twitching as if he’s fighting a smile. This time, he places the travel-size bottle down on the kitchen island next to us instead of throwing it away, and then proceeds to do the same with each of the other products he pulls out. “Deodorant… a travel toothbrush… toothpaste… a half a bottle of water… aaand… I’m not sure what this is.” He narrows his eyes, reading the little tube. “Oh, concealer.” He then balls up the plastic bag and puts it into the wastebasket. When his eyes come to me again, he lifts a sexy brow. “Explain.”

  I huff, shoving my hair out of my face. “Really, Owen? It’s not obvious?”

  “Oh, it is. But I want to know what was going on in that pretty head of yours that made you think you needed to stop and stock up on toiletries when I was very clear in what I wanted you to do. Which was—Get. Home. Now.”

  My shoulders deflate like I’ve been scolded for doing something my parent specifically told me not to do, and the emotion is topped only by another much stronger one—embarrassment over having to say it out loud.

  “Our texts.” I huff again. “Our texts made me…. Well, your words were super-arousing, and they made me…”

  “They made you what, Ivy?” He steps closer, mere inches away.

  “They… they made me… wet. Like, soaked. To the point I could… smell myself.” I whisper the last two words, my face flaming with mortification. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye again.

  Until…

  “Fuck,” he growls, and he reaches between us to adjust his tented slacks.

  My startled eyes find his heated ones.

  “And the rest of it?” he prompts.

  His reaction to my confession suddenly perks up my confidence, not feeling so much like a reprimanded child anymore.

  “I had a drink at the bar that left a bad taste in my mouth, and I thought if I thought my mouth tasted bad, then you probably would too. So I brushed my teeth and used the mouthwash in my car using the bottled water.” Then I murmur, “Definitely need to remember to throw that McDonald’s cup out tomorrow, since it’s currently full of my spit.”

  And then he does something that curls my toes it’s so delicious to witness. A smile takes over his entire handsome face and he throws his head back and laughs, a deep, hearty sound that comes from the depths of his belly. It takes my breath away, and my eyes even tear up a little at how beautiful he is when he laughs.

  When he sobers, he asks, “And the concealer?”

  “Oh, that was just because I’m almost out, so I figured since I was at Walgreens, I might as well grab it while I was there.” I shrug.

  The next thing I know, Owen lifts me up as if I weigh nothing and tosses me onto his shoulder, slapping my ass once and making me yelp as I try to catch my breath at the sudden change in altitude. “What are you doing?” I squeak.

  “That was for not following orders,” he says, and he begins moving in the direction of my bedroom.

  I think.

  I could be wrong though. Because my eyes have a front-row view of his impeccable ass, and I nearly drool watching the muscles work as he carries me… somewhere.

  I actually pout when he takes hold of me in a way to swing me down off his shoulder, and I land on my soft mattress with a little bounce.

  “First and foremost, Ivy. Do. Not. Ever. Try to hide your arousal from me. There is nothing on this earth I desire more than the juices from that tight little cunt,” he rumbles, and his vulgar words make me gasp, my hand going to my throat daintily, as if I were wearing pearls.

  “Owen,” I breathe, shaking my head.

  “Don’t try to argue with me,” he says, taking hold of the backs of my knees and spreading my legs with a jerk. The force of the movement pulls my ass to the edge of the bed, and I whimper at the dark look in his eyes as his knees lower to the floor. Without any warning, he reaches beneath my skirt and yanks my panties down and off, and to my mortification, he balls them in his fist and lifts it to his nose. He takes a deep inhale through his nose, and I wish the bed would just open up and swallow me whole as if I’m Johnny Depp in Nightmare on Elm Street.

  His angry growl chills the marrow in my bones.

  “What did you do? There’s no way using those—” His face twists in disgust. “—wipes would have gotten rid of your scent so thoroughly.”

  I swallow. “I um… I…. The thought of going commando almost gave me a panic attack, thanks to my uh… you know, my gymnophobia. So I went to the drug store’s bathroom, washed them with the hand soap, and dried them with the hand dryer. After cleaning myself up with the feminine wipes, I put them back on,” I confess, watching him shake his head through my explanation.

  “Second on our list of lessons—stay away from those wipes. The ones you picked out, while they may smell nice and perfumed, are not PH-balanced. They could fuck up this perfect, untouched pussy of yours and give you an infection. And never put anti-bacterial soap anywhere near this cunt again. It kills not only the bad bacteria, but the good kind too. The kind that keeps this delicious little slit a nice and healthy meal for me to eat,” he tells me, and strokes his finger through my slick lower lips.

  My breath comes out on a whoosh, and I feel so out of my element right now that I say the first thing that pops into my head. “It’s almost like you’re an expert on the subject. Are you a gynecologist or something?” I bite my lip to keep from letting out a nervous giggle.

  “I’m an expert on all things you, Ivy. Fuck. My sweet, innocent Ivy.” There’s heat in h
is eyes, and it burns through me, igniting my body.

  I don't have to be an expert on sex and lust to know the look of raw, ravenous want. “Do you want me, Owen?” I try to tempt him in a way I never have before, taking control of his desire for me. I bite my lip, a poor attempt at looking sexy, I’m sure, but it’s something I’ve seen in every romance movie and read in every romance novel.

  “I do. But you don't get to have my cock just yet. No, you're not ready to be made into my own personal sex addict.”

  I gulp, my cheeks flaring with heat. “I could never do that. Sex with you will be amazing, sure, but with my phobia, I don’t think I’ll ever be confident enough to let loose in that way.” My words trail off and I drop my eyes to the floor.

  “You have no idea. I will obliterate all your fears. In fact, you will be so hungry for my cock you won’t be able to focus at work or have a conversation with anyone else without craving it. You won’t be able to stand going without it multiple times a day. Don’t doubt it, because when you doubt me, it only makes me more unstoppable. I will fuck you into submission, and you will eat those words like you'll eat my cock, Ivy. Nightly.”

  “Owen.” My core clenches, his words offending me in all the right ways.

  “On the bed, hike that dress, legs spread,” he orders, and my heart plummets.

  I shake my head, suddenly acutely aware of what’s happening. My senses are on high alert, and I really can’t bring my pulse back down to a healthy rate. “I can’t. You scare me,” I whisper.

  “I should. That fear will turn into desire, but you have to trust that I know what you want. That you are safe with me.”

  There is something about the softness that overtakes his every feature. It eases his sharp edges, and it makes me feel like I’m right where I want to be. “Will you stop if I get too afraid?” I question, mustering every ounce of my courage to grab a fistful of his shirt. I pull him in so I can kiss the chiseled line of his jaw.