The Man Next Door: Orchard Heights Book 2 - standalone

by Roya Carmen

  “I think you might be as tall as me,” he jokes. “I like it.”

  I laugh. “These are only four inch heels… I think I’m still short an inch or two.” I wrap my hand around his torso. It feels weird to suddenly be at eye-level with him.

  He slides a hand around the back of my neck, and draws me in closer. He presses his lips against mine gently, a soft teasing kiss.

  “Are you sure I’m not disturbing you?”

  He laughs through labored breaths. “Hell no… I’m officially done working.”

  I smile at the thought of having him all to myself. I close my eyes as I surrender to his kiss, slow and intense, a skilled dance. The man certainly knows how to kiss a woman.

  “Damn, you’re good at that,” I whisper, the words pressed against his lips.

  “You too,” he breathes.

  His soft hands travel down the length of my body, his fingers taking in the feel of the lace and silk. He toys playfully with the silk ribbon and when he pulls at it, my body responds eagerly. He studies me for the longest time as he delicately unravels me, painfully slowly. He fixes me like an artist methodically studying every detail of his subject. “God, your tits look amazing in this… I almost don’t want to take it off.”

  I laugh. “You don’t have to,” I point out. “There are snap buttons on the crotch.”

  His dark eyes widen at my words. “Interesting…”

  His hand slides quickly down my torso, and heads straight for my sweet spot. He slides a long finger between my legs and smiles coyly. “I like this.”

  I quiver, aroused at the feel of his touch as he unsnaps each button. I close my eyes as he slides a finger inside me.

  “Fuck,” he breathes.

  I throw my head against the wall as he slides down the length of my body. He kneels on the floor and throws my leg over his shoulder. As soon as his hot mouth lands on my pussy, I feel my climax already building. He teases, savoring me quickly. And he’s back up again, kissing me, the taste of my sex on his lips. “I’m going to take you right here, against the wall.”

  I reach for him and fiddle with his fly, a silent Yes. As soon as I release him from his jeans, I guide him inside me. I wrap my legs around him and close my eyes, reveling in the feel of him as he presses me against the wall repeatedly. The picture on the wall bangs over and over again. With every bang, I’m brought closer to the edge. I’ve completely surrendered to him. I want him to unravel me, make me scream.

  I shudder and cry out as I reach that peak, the waves hitting me harder than I’d imagined. We both get there at the same time. His cries of pleasure join mine to create a beautiful song.

  We’ve moved to his bed, and I’m comfortably nestled in his arms, staring at his coffered ceiling. What will happen when his lease is up? Where will he go? Perhaps I could invite him to live with me. Would it be too early for that? Would I have enough room for him, for his studio?

  “A penny for your thoughts?” he says.

  I laugh. “A penny for yours.”

  “Uh… I was just thinking that I might be the luckiest guy on earth, and that you’ll have to wear that teddy again.”

  I laugh. “I like this… us.”

  He twirls a finger around a lock of my hair. “Me too.”

  I want to ask him a million questions. What are we? When will I meet your family? Where will you go when your lease is up? Is this just sex or more? Could you see yourself marrying me? Do you want kids? But of course I don’t. I know if I did, he’d run away as fast as an Olympian sprinter.

  Instead, I just stare quietly at the ceiling. And so does he. He seems deep in thought. I wonder what he’s thinking about?

  And we both quietly drift off into slumber.

  29

  Rise and shine. I wake slowly. I was dreaming about a music festival, Porta-Potties, sprinkled donuts and Melanie. I wonder what that means for a second. I decide that it’s pretty simple. I need to go pee and I’m starved. Noah is still sound asleep, looking adorable. He’s a pillow hugger.

  I slip on Noah’s t-shirt and steal a pair of his boxers from his dresser. I dash to the washroom, and accidentally catch sight of myself in the vanity mirror. I’m scary; raccoon eyes and bird’s nest hair.

  I empty my bladder and clean my face, finger comb my hair. I steal Noah’s toothbrush and brush my teeth. I’m sure he won’t mind. I’m presentable again, in a just-fucked smoky eyes kind of way.

  I wonder why I was dreaming about Melanie. There was something I was meant to do… I can’t quite remember. I wrack my brain as I pop a bagel in the toaster. I flip open each and every kitchen cabinet door. I don’t know where anything is. Finally I find the peanut butter and reach for it.

  Bingo! I remember. She asked me to give a list of expenses to be reimbursed. Gasoline, lunches and the like. Damn, I’d completely forgotten. I’ve also forgotten to head to the bank, and bring my dry cleaning in. This being-in-love thing is amazing but it does make you a little unfocused. I need to write this stuff down.

  I quickly slap on the peanut butter on my bagel and pour myself a glass of milk. I steal a mandarin, and set my breakfast on the kitchen table. I need a notepad and pen.

  I head to Noah’s den/studio and rummage through his desk. It’s a mess. Finally, I spot a pen, but I’m still looking for a notepad or piece of paper.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he snaps.

  I jerk my head round to see him standing there, at the entryway. I’m too shocked to say a thing.

  “What are you doing going through my desk?” he asks, a little more softly this time.

  “Uh… I was just looking for a pen and paper. I need to jot down a few things.”

  “I don’t want you in my office,” he scoffs. “Ever. This room is off-limits.”

  Holy shit. What the fuck is his problem?

  I drop the pen, and slowly find my way out of the office. My heart is hammering as I walk past him to the kitchen. I’ve completely lost my appetite.

  He follows me to the kitchen. “I’m sorry, Abby,” he says. “I’m just very private. I don’t like people in my things.”

  I sit at the kitchen table. “I see that.”

  What are you hiding?

  “What’s the big deal, anyway?” I ask, biting into my bagel. “Are you a drug dealer or something?”

  He shakes his head, and turns from me. He swings the refrigerator open. I’m irked, but I haven’t failed to notice how sexy he looks with just pajama pants on.

  “Seriously, you could rummage through anything of mine… I have no secrets.” I gulp a sip of milk. “Obviously you do.”

  He jerks around. “Maybe I just don’t want you in my damn business, Abby. Stop being so nosy.”

  I drop my bagel, vexed. “I wasn’t being nosy. I was just looking for a fucking notepad.” I rise and leave my half-eaten breakfast. I storm out in a huff. “Later, buddy. It’s been fun.”

  I head back to the bedroom to retrieve my teddy. He nips at my heels, apologizing, but I’m not hearing any of it. I dash to the front door and grab my jacket and heels.

  I slam the door behind me without a word.

  As soon as I step into my bedroom, I plop down on my bed. What the hell is up with him? What is he hiding? What is he involved in?

  And most importantly, what have I got myself into?

  My eighteenth birthday was the most memorable, most amazing of all my birthdays to date. First off, my dad actually remembered. He gave me a birthday card. I still have it today; a cute puppy sporting a birthday hat. It was one of those cheap dollar store cards, but I still appreciated the thought. The card came with a box of Turtles and two fifty dollar bills. It was more than he’d ever given me.

  My brother Jake slapped me on the shoulder. “Happy Birthday, Sis.” And Nick asked me when I was moving out. He’d already moved out a few years before and was shacking up with some blonde in an apartment in town.

  Secondly, the staff at the theatre organized a party for me the night bef
ore my official birthday; a private showing of Bloodshot with Vin Diesel, and all the popcorn we could eat. It was a lot of fun.

  And finally… Gavin.

  I was giddy when I knocked at his door. His front door. I was eighteen now, and I didn’t care what the neighbors might see or think. Ditto my dad. We had nothing to hide. We were in love.

  He was wearing my favorite plaid shirt when he answered the door, all smiles. Magnum was excited to see me as always, pawing at me frantically. He was no longer a puppy but still very excitable.

  “Go sit in your corner,” Gavin commanded in an authoritative but soft voice. Magnum stared at the floor for a beat, defeated, and reluctantly obeyed.

  My breath hitched when I spotted the huge bouquet of red roses on the kitchen table. “For me?” I breathed in their sweet unique scent and rubbed a soft petal between the pads of my finger and thumb. “They’re beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you like them.”

  I turned to him. “I love them.”

  “There are eighteen,” he pointed out.

  I shot him a playful smile. Yes, the roses were beautiful, but I was more interested in him. I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his large torso.

  He stroked my hair. “You’ve gotten so big,” he said, much like a distant uncle might say.

  I laughed. “I’m five foot seven.”

  “I still have seven inches on you.”

  I pulled my head from his chest and gazed into his eyes.

  Kiss me.

  We’d been close friends for four years by then, and we often communicated without words. He dipped his head and pressed his mouth on mine. My lips were hungry for his, my tongue eager to taste. We explored each other’s mouths, frantic, eager for more. Our hands were impatient too, our fingers curious, our hearts greedy.

  When we finally tore away from each other, Magnum was watching us curiously. I laughed at the sight of him, ears perked up.

  “You think he’s jealous?” I asked Gavin.

  “No, he adores you.”

  “Well, I adore him too.”

  A slow grin stretched across his beautiful face. “I’ve got something else for you.”

  My heart swelled, wondering if he had a gift for me. I hadn’t received one yet, save for the Turtles my dad had given me.

  “Go sit on the sofa,” he urged. “And close your eyes.”

  I dashed to the living room, as excited as a kid. I did as told and shut my eyes and waited eagerly. I could hear him rummaging through drawers and making a racket. I smiled. I suspected a cake might be involved, or perhaps a huge box of donuts.

  “Okay… you can open your eyes now,” he called out.

  My eyes popped open to see him standing in front of me, holding a chocolate cake on a platter. Eighteen candles lit up the room. I couldn’t help but laugh. The cake was so sad looking, lopsided with messy icing.

  He set the cake down on the coffee table. “I know it doesn’t exactly look like the one on the box,” he pointed out. “But I’m sure it tastes good.”

  I smiled. “Well, you have many skills, Gavin Foster, but cake-making is not one of them.”

  “It’s the thought that counts, right?”

  “Yes… definitely. I love it.”

  “Make a wish.”

  I shot him an impish smile. There was only one thing I wanted for my birthday. Him.

  I wish to lose my virginity to the man I love tonight.

  I leaned in and blew out the candles with all my might. I got them all.

  “Happy Birthday.”

  “Thank you.”

  He sat down next to me, and reached into the small drawer in the side table, just like he had on my sixteenth birthday. He emerged with a small velvet box, just like he had then.

  My heart swelled as he handed it to me. I didn’t waste a second. I popped it open and I stopped breathing for a good second when I saw the pretty ring; silver with an amethyst birthstone. It matched my heart necklace perfectly.

  I was mesmerized. “Wow. This must have cost you a small fortune.”

  “It was worth every penny,” he said. “The expression on your face right now is worth every cent I spent.”

  I pulled the ring out of its cozy bed and studied it further. “Can you put it on me?”

  He smiled and took it from me. “I hope it fits. I was guessing on size.” He kneeled at my feet, and I gave him my left hand. His shy smile was the most beautiful sight. He slowly slipped it on my ring finger.

  “So are we engaged now?” I teased.

  He grinned. “Think of it as a promise.”

  I smiled. I liked the idea of that.

  The ring fit perfectly. As I studied my hand, newly adorned, I reached for my heart pendant. I’m never taking these off, I promised myself.

  Eighteen years later, I’ve held my promise. I still wear my heart on my chest, and my ring on my ring finger. The ring temporarily lived on my right hand when I was engaged and married to Daniel, but as soon as we separated, I returned it to its rightful place. Gavin was my first love, my one true love. And I still think of him that way.

  I leaned into him and kissed him, a sweet tender kiss.

  “I love you, Abigail,” he whispered. “You’re so much more than a friend.”

  I sat motionless for a long beat, speechless.

  He smiled. “I’m sorry if I shouldn’t love you this way, but I do. I can’t help myself.”

  My eyes welled. “No… your love mean everything to me. You have no idea. I knew I felt… I didn’t know you…” I babbled, too excited to form a coherent sentence. “I love you too, Gavin. With all my heart.”

  He took me in his arms, and I melted into him. I never wanted to be anywhere else again but in his arms. I made a decision on the spot. I wouldn’t go away for college. I would stay by his side. I couldn’t imagine living my life any other way.

  He softly broke our embrace. “I’ve got one last gift for you,” he said. “You want to eat some cake first?”

  “Hell, no.” The last thing I wanted to do was eat.

  He smiled playfully. He knew exactly what I was thinking. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “I can’t wait to see.”

  “I’ll show you as soon as I put this away.” He grabbed my birthday cake and hid it in the refrigerator, away from Magnum. “Come with me.”

  I rose, eager to see. He took my hand and led me to the back of his trailer, to his bedroom. My heart hammered as he slowly opened the door. My breath hitched as soon as I saw the lit candles on his dresser, the rose petals on the bed, and the pretty white babydoll teddy on the pillow. Soft music was playing on his CD player.

  This was really happening. I was both aroused and scared to death. I still wasn’t sure I was ready, but I knew I was in good hands.

  As if he could read my mind, Gavin whispered, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  A slow teasing smile lifted my mouth. “Oh… I want to.”

  I stood, frozen like a statue as I took in the scene. I bit my lip. “I love that teddy.” It was tasteful; sheer white fabric, a pretty flowing skirt, a lace bustier top, thin spaghetti straps. “Shall I try it on?”

  He was biting at his bottom lip, clearly not trying to hide his arousal. “Hell, yes,” he hollered. “I’ll leave you to it,” he added in a whisper, eyes dark. “I want to be surprised.”

  He closed the door softly, and my heart shifted into overdrive. I peeled the teddy off the bed, and explored its soft fabric. There were matching lace panties and I was turned on by the sight of them, by the thought of wearing the teddy for Gavin, of arousing him, of making him hard. I quickly slipped off my jeans and sweater, socks, and black undies and bra. My body was restless and impatient. I desperately wanted to be touched. I slid a hand over my breast, reveling in the feel of my erect nipple on the pads of my fingers. Soon it would be his hands.

  I slipped on the sheer panties and teddy. The fit was just about perfect, just a little
snug. I studied my reflection in the mirror above the dresser. In the candlelight, I looked pretty… innocent and curious. I tousled my hair and turned to the door. My heart was beating a mile a minute when I slowly opened the door and called out, “I’m ready.”

  Gavin was by my side in a flash. He stood over me, studying every detail with awe. His eyes were dark, his lips parted. The hungry look in his eyes aroused me even more. I craved him as much as he craved me.

  “You look amazing,” he said softly. “Even prettier than I imagined.” He closed the distance between us, wrapped a large arm around my waist, drawing me closer. I completely surrendered to him in that moment. I was his. He pressed his hot mouth on my shoulder and licked a slow line along my neck. “You always taste amazing.”

  I moaned out loud, at a loss for words. My hands traveled down his chest and explored. His flannel plaid button shirt was soft but it needed to go. I popped open the snap buttons.

  “I’m going to make you feel so good, Abigail,” he promised. “I’m going to feast on you.”

  My whole core heated at his words. I was on fire. I pulled off his shirt, but he was still wearing a t-shirt. So many layers.

  He hands softly explored the curves of my body. He was taking his sweet time, driving me wild. “I can touch now,” he breathed. “You’re eighteen and we’re both adults.”

  “Yes… we are,” I whispered.

  “I’m going to take this very slow, baby.” His breathing was labored. He was struggling to rein himself in. “First times should always be slow.” I appreciated his restraint. I wanted it slow and he knew that.

  My touch headed south. I wanted to feel, to see his arousal for me. He groaned at my touch, his thick jeans still a barrier. He became agitated under my touch, more aggressive. He squeezed my breast and nipped at my jaw. Surprisingly, I loved it. I whimpered and shuttered under his touch. “More,” I begged.

  He bit my neck softly. “Like this?”

  “Yes.”

  His mouth travelled down my neck to my breast. “You are so sweet… I don’t want to hurt you.”