“Wow, BFFs? Who’s been teaching you the lingo, daddy-o?” I laughed and extended my hand to Big Guy. “Hi, I’m Caroline. Nice to meet you.”
He engulfed my hand with his paw. It actually was like a paw. Mimi was gonna lose her mind with this one. His eyes were full of fun as he smiled down at me.
“Hey, Caroline. I’m Neil. This tool here is Ryan,” he said, nodding over his shoulder at Glasses.
“Thanks, remind me of that next time you can’t remember your e-mail password.” Ryan laughed good-naturedly and extended his hand to me. I shook it, noticing how scorchingly green his eyes were. If Sophia had kids with this guy, they would be illegally beautiful.
I made sure to handle the continued introductions as Benjamin stepped away. We began to small talk, and I chuckled as the four of them began their little getting-to-know-you dance. Neil spotted someone he knew behind me and shouted, “Hey, Parker, get your pretty-boy ass over here and meet our new friends.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I heard a voice say behind me, and I turned to see who was joining our group.
The first thing I saw was blue. Blue sweater, blue eyes. Blue. Beautifully blue. Then I saw red as I recognized who belonged to the blue.
“Fucking Wallbanger,” I hissed, frozen on the spot.
His grin slid off as well as he played place-the-face for a moment.
“Fucking Pink Nightie Girl,” he finally concluded. He grimaced.
We stared, seething as the air turned electric between us, snapping and crackling.
The four behind us had fallen silent, listening to this little interchange. Then they caught up.
“That’s Wallbanger?” Sophia screeched.
“Wait a minute, that’s Pink Nightie Girl?” Neil laughed, and Mimi and Ryan snorted.
My face flamed bright red as I processed this information, and Simon’s sneer became that damnable smirk I’d seen that night in the hallway—when I’d banged on his door and made him quit giving it to Giggler and yelled at him. When I’d been wearing . . .
“Pink Nightie Girl. Pink Nightie Girl!” I choked out, beyond pissed. Beyond angry. Well into Furious Town. I stared at him, pouring all of my tension into that one look. All of the sleepless nights and lost Os and cold showers and banana thrusting and merciless wet dreams went into that one look.
I wanted to level him with my eyes, make him beg for mercy. But no. . . . Not Simon, director of the International House of Orgasms.
He.
Was.
Still.
Smirking.
chapter six
We stood staring at each other, waves of anger and annoyance pinging back and forth between us. We glared, he with the smirk and me with the sneer, until I noticed that our very own peanut gallery had fallen silent again, along with every other guest in the kitchen. I looked past my neighbor and saw Jillian standing next to Benjamin with an inquisitive look on her face—no doubt wondering why her protégé was squaring off in the middle of her housewarming.
Wait a minute—how the hell did she know Simon? Why was he even here?
I felt a tiny hand on my shoulder and spun quickly to see Mimi.
“Easy, Trigger. You don’t need to go nuclear at Jillian’s, ’kay?” she whispered, smiling shyly at Simon. I tossed her a look and turned back to him, finding him joined by our hosts.
“Caroline, I didn’t realize you knew Simon. What a small world!” Jillian exclaimed, clasping her hands together.
“I wouldn’t say I know him, but I’m familiar with his work,” I replied through clenched teeth. Mimi danced in a circle around us like a little kid with a secret.
“Jillian, you won’t believe this but—” she started, her voice bubbling over with barely concealed mirth.
“Mimi. . . .” I warned.
“Simon is Simon from next door! Simon Wallbanger!” Sophia cried, grasping Benjamin’s arm. I’m sure she only did it so she could touch Benjamin.
“Dammit.” I breathed as Jillian took in this information.
“No fucking way.” She breathed, hand clapping over her mouth as she dropped the f-bomb. Jillian always tried to be such a lady. Benjamin looked confused, and Simon had the decency to blush a little.
“Asshole,” I mouthed to him.
“Cockblocker,” he mouthed back, the smirk returning in full force.
I gasped. I clenched my fists and prepared to tell him exactly what he could do with his cockblocker when Neil burst in.
“Benjamin, check this out—this little hottie here is the Pink Nightie Girl! Can you stand it?” He laughed as Ryan struggled to keep a straight face. Benjamin’s eyes widened, and he raised an eyebrow at me. Simon swallowed a laugh.
“Pink Nightie Girl?” Jillian asked, and I heard Benjamin lean in and tell her he’d explain later.
“Okay, that’s it!” I shouted, and I pointed at Simon. “You. A word, please?” I barked and grabbed him by the arm. I yanked him outside and pulled him down one of the paths that led away from the house. He scrambled along after me, my heels ringing out angrily on the flagstone.
“Jesus, slow down, will you?”
My response was to dig my nails into his arm, which made him yelp. Good.
We reached a little enclave set away from the house and the party—far enough away that no one would hear him scream when I removed his balls from his body. I released his arm and rounded on him, pointing a finger in his surprised face.
“You’ve got some nerve telling everyone about me, asshole! What the hell? Pink Nightie Girl? Are you kidding me?” I whisper-yelled.
“Hey, I could ask you the same question! Why do all those girls in there call me Wallbanger, huh? Who’s telling tales now?” he whisper-yelled right back.
“Are you kidding me? Cockblocker? Just because I refused to spend another night listening to you and your harem does not make me a cockblocker!” I hissed.
“Well, due to the fact that your door banging blocked my cock, it actually does make you a cockblocker. Cockblocker!” he hissed back. This entire conversation was beginning to sound like something that might have happened in fourth grade—except for all the nighties and the cock talk.
“Now, you listen here, mister,” I said, trying for a more adult tone. “I’m not going to spend every night listening to you try to crash your girl’s head through my wall with the force of your dick alone! No way, buddy.” I pointed a finger at him. He grabbed it.
“What I do on my side of that wall is my business. Let’s get that straight right now. And why are you so concerned about me and my dick anyway?” he asked, smirking at me again.
It was the smirk, that damn smirk, that made me go ballistic. That and the fact that he was still holding my finger.
“It is my business when you and your sex train come knocking on my wall every night!”
“You’re really fixated on this, aren’t you? Wish you were on the other side of that wall? Are you lookin’ to ride that sex train, Nightie Girl?” He chuckled as he wagged his finger in my face.
“Okay, that’s it,” I growled. I grabbed his finger in defense, which instantly locked us together. We must have looked like two loggers trying to cut down a tree. We struggled back and forth—beyond ridiculous. We both huffed and puffed, each trying to get the upper hand, each refusing to relent.
“Why are you such a manwhoring asshole?” I asked, my face inches from his.
“Why are you such a cockblocking priss?” he asked, and when I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought, the fucker kissed me.
Kissed me.
Placed his lips on mine and kissed me. Under the moon and the stars, with the sounds of the waves crashing and the crickets cricketing. My eyes were still open, furiously looking back into his. His eyes were so blue, it was like looking at two angry oceans.
He pulled away, our fingers still gripping each other’s like pliers. I released his hand and slapped him across the face. He looked shocked, even more so as I grabbed his sweater and pulled him closer. I
kissed him, this time closing my eyes and letting my hands fill with wool and my nose fill with that warm man smell.
Goddamn, he smelled good.
His hands crept around to the small of my back, and as soon as he touched me, I realized where I was and what I was doing.
“Dammit,” I said, and pulled away. We stood looking at each other, and I wiped at my lips. I started to walk away and then turned back quickly.
“This never happened, got it?” I pointed at him again.
“Whatever you say.” He smirked, and I felt my temper flare again.
“And cool it with the Pink Nightie stuff, okay?” I whisper-yelled and turned to walk back down the path.
“Until I get to see your other nighties, that’s what I’m calling you,” he shot back, and I almost tripped. I smoothed my dress and headed back to the party.
Unbelievable.
“So I told the guy, there is no way I’m organizing your ‘playroom.’ You can arrange your own riding crops!” Mimi shrieked, and we all laughed. She can tell a story like nobody’s business. She has a knack for bringing a group together, especially when it’s new people just getting to know one another.
As the party began to wind down, my girls and Simon’s guys were gathered around a fire pit on one of the terraces. Dug deep and lined with flagstone, it had benches all around. While the fire crackled merrily, we laughed and drank and told stories. And by that I mean Mimi, Sophia, Neil, and Ryan told stories while Simon and I glared at each other over the flames. With the sparks flying, if I squinted my eyes a little I could imagine him roasting in the fires of hell.
“So, are we gonna address the elephant in the room here?” Ryan asked, drawing his knees up and placing his beer on the bench next to him.
“Which elephant would that be?” I asked sweetly, sipping my wine.
“Oh, please—the fact that the guy thumping the headboard off your bed is the hottie across the way, girl!” Mimi squealed, almost tossing her drink in Neil’s face. He laughed along with her, but pried the glass out of her hand before she could do any real damage.
“There really isn’t anything to talk about,” Simon said. “I have a new neighbor. Her name is Caroline. That’s it.” He nodded, eyeing me across the fire. I raised my eyebrow and sipped my wine.
“Yeah, it’s nice to know Pink Nightie Girl has a name. The way he described you . . . wow! I wasn’t sure you were real, but you’re as hot as he said you were!” Neil hooted at me appreciatively, trying for a moment to fist-bump Simon through the flames before he realized how hot they were.
My eyes shot to Simon. He grimaced at the description. Interesting. . . .
“So you were the guys banging back at us tonight? Listening to Guns N’ Roses?” Sophia asked, nudging Ryan.
“You were the girls singing along, I suppose, yes?” he nudged back, smiling.
“Small world, isn’t it?” Mimi sighed, gazing up at Neil. He winked at her, and I saw quickly where this was going. She had her giant, Sophia had her hot geek, and I had my wine. Which was disappearing by the second.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, and stood up to find a waiter.
I made my way through the dwindling crowd inside the house, nodding at a few faces I recognized. I accepted yet another glass of wine and strolled back outside. I’d started back toward the fire pit when I heard Mimi say, “And you should have heard Caroline when she told us about the night she banged on his door.”
Sophia and Mimi leaned together and said breathlessly, “He . . . was . . . still . . . hard!”
They all dissolved into laughter. I needed to remember to kill those girls tomorrow, with pain.
I groaned at my public humiliation and spun around to stomp off into the gardens when I saw Simon in the shadows. I tried to back away before he saw me, but he waved.
“Come on, come on, I don’t bite,” he scoffed.
“Yeah, sure, I guess,” I answered, walking toward him.
We stood quietly in the night. I looked out over the bay, enjoying the silence. Then he finally spoke.
“So I was thinking, since we’re neighbors and all . . .” he began.
I turned to look at him. He was giving me a sexy little grin, and I knew that’s what he used to make the panties drop. Ha—little did he know I wasn’t wearing any.
“You were thinking what? That I’d want to join you some night? See what all the fuss is about? Hop on the welcome wagon? Honey, I have no interest in becoming one of your girls,” I answered, glaring at him.
He said nothing.
“Well?” I asked, tapping my foot angrily. The nerve of this guy. . . .
“Actually, I was going to say, since we’re neighbors and all, maybe we could call a truce?” he said quietly, looking at me in a very irritated way.
“Oh,” I said. It was all I could say.
“Or maybe not,” he finished and started to walk away.
“Wait, wait, wait, Simon,” I groaned grabbing him by the wrist as he pushed past me.
He stood there, glaring.
“Yes. Fine. We can call a truce. But there will have to be some ground rules,” I replied, turning to face him. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I should warn you now, I don’t enjoy women telling me what to do,” he answered darkly.
“Not from what I’ve heard,” I said under my breath, but he caught it anyway.
“That’s different,” he said, the cockiness beginning to reappear.
“Okay, here’s the thing. You enjoy yourself, do your thing, hang from the ceiling fans, I don’t care. But late at night? Can we keep it down to a dull roar? Please? I gotta get some sleep.”
He considered this for a moment. “Yes, I can see where that might be a problem. But you know, you don’t really know anything about me, and you certainly don’t know anything about me and my ‘harem,’ as you call it. I don’t have to justify my life, or the women in it, to you. So no more nasty judgments, agreed?”
I considered it. “Agreed. By the way, I appreciated the quiet this week. Something happen?”
“Happen? What do you mean?” he asked as we walked back to the group.
“I thought maybe you were injured in the line of duty, like your dick broke off or something,” I joked, proud to use my zinger again.
“Unbelievable. That’s all you think I am, isn’t it?” he retorted, his face angry again.
“A dick? Yes, in fact,” I snapped back.
“Now look—” he started, and Neil appeared out of nowhere.
“Nice to see you two have kissed and made up,” he chided, pretending to hold Simon back.
“Can it, anchorman,” Simon muttered as the rest of the newly paired-off reappeared.
“Cool it with the anchorman, huh?” Neil said, and Sophia whirled on him.
“Anchorman! Wait a minute, you’re the local sports guy on NBC, right? Am I right?” she asked.
I watched his eyes light up. Sophia may have been a classical music kind of girl, but she was also a huge 49ers fan. I was pretty sure the 49ers were a football team.
“Yeah, that’s me. You watch a lot of sports?” he asked, leaning toward her, bringing Mimi along. The way she was clinging to his arm, it was unavoidable. She stumbled a little, and Ryan swooped in to steady her. They smiled at each other as Sophia and Neil continued their football talk. I coughed, reminding them that I was, in fact, still here.
“Caroline, we’re taking off!” Sophia giggled, now leaning on Ryan’s arm. I glared at Simon one more time and stalked toward the girls.
“That’s good. I’ve had enough fun for tonight. I’ll call for the car, and we can head out in a few,” I replied, reaching into my bag for my phone.
“Actually, Neil was telling us about this great little bar, and we were going to go that way. Do you two want to come?” Mimi interrupted, stopping my hand. She squeezed it, and I saw her shake her head almost imperceptibly.
“No?” I asked, raising both eyebrows.
“Grea
t! Ol’ Wallbanger here’ll make sure you get home okay,” Neil said, clapping Simon roughly on the back.
“Yeah, sure,” he said through clenched teeth.
Before I could even blink, the four of them were on their way to the hillevator, saying sloppy good-byes to Benjamin and Jillian, who just laughed and shared a high five.
Wallbanger and I stared at each other, and I suddenly felt exhausted. “Truce?” I said tiredly.
“Truce,” he said, nodding.
We left the party together. We drove back across the bridge, with the late-night fog and silence enveloping us. He’d opened the door for me when I approached the Rover, probably some ingrained training from his mother. His hand had rested on the small of my back as I climbed in, and then it was gone and he was around to his side before I even had a chance to make a snarky remark. Maybe it was best; we had called a truce. The second truce within the span of mere minutes. This was going to end badly, I could tell. Still, I would try. I could be neighborly, right?
Neighborly. Ha. That kiss was all kinds of neighborly. I was trying as hard as I could not to think about it, but it just kept bubbling up. I pressed my fingers to my lips without even realizing it, remembering the feeling of his mouth on mine. His kiss was almost a dare, calling my bluff—a promise of what would follow if I allowed it.
My kiss? Straight-up instinct that frankly surprised me. Why had I kissed him? I had no idea, but I did. It must have looked ridiculous. I’d slapped him, then kissed him like some scene from an old Cary Grant movie. I’d thrown my entire body into my kiss, letting my soft places curve against his strong. My mouth had sought his, and his kiss had grown as eager as mine. There was no fairy-tale music, but there was something there. And it had quickly hardened against my thigh. . . .
His messing about with the radio brought me back to the present. He appeared quite focused on the music as we drove across the bridge, which made me quite nervous.
“Can I help you with that? Please?” I asked, looking nervously at the water below.
“No, thanks, I got it,” he said, glancing at me. He must have noticed the way I was peering over the side of the bridge, and he chuckled. “Okay, sure, go ahead. I mean, you knew every word to ‘Welcome to the Jungle,’ so you might pick out something good,” he challenged.
The Cocktail Collection Page 6