Big Bad Neighbor: A Single Dad Next Door Romance

by Tia Siren

  He rolled me over on the desk, forcing my butt to the sky. I wanted him to see me, all of me. With my chest not resting on the top of his cold desk, he began rubbing his hands along my back, massaging my tense muscles with his powerful hands.

  Then he leaned over me and kissed my neck from behind. I could feel his throbbing member rubbing along my dripping wet sex and bucked my hips to stop him from teasing me.

  He grabbed my hips and held me down to the desk. Then, I could feel him start to slide inside me. His manhood stretched me in just the right ways, and the sensation of being filled was causing me to explode.

  I could already feel another orgasm starting to build up in the pit of my stomach. I enjoyed every motion as he slid inside and out, forcing my hips into the desk harder each time.

  I moaned but held my mouth shut. I didn’t want to be too loud, not here.

  He shuddered with excitement. My spindly legs had become exceptionally weak from all the motion and buckled out below me. He held my hips in place as he continued to work himself inside.

  Every muscle in my body tensed up instantly as the orgasm took hold. I gritted my teeth to keep from making any noise. Then all my muscles went limp. I didn’t think I could move anymore.

  He kept pumping, and I hungrily accepted it. Then I felt him swell up inside and fill me up with his steaming liquid. I shuddered uncontrollably.

  When he pulled out, it took a lot of effort to stay on the desk. He held me tightly while leaning over the desk. I don’t remember falling asleep.

  7.

  I wanted to see him more, but it wasn’t meant to be.

  I received a note two days later in the mail, along with an old key that looked weather-beaten and used.

  The note read as follows.

  “Dear Sandy,

  “I can’t stay in the school anymore. You’re an amazing person, and I want to do nothing more than wake up next to you when I’m nearby, but it isn’t right.

  “You need to meet someone closer to your own age; someone who’s in the same stage of life and ready to tackle tomorrow. I’ve done a lot of living, and you need to find your own path to travel, not be forced to follow me down mine.

  “I’m leaving you my car. It showed me my path, and hopefully it will help you travel down yours. Perhaps our paths will cross again, someday.

  “Don’t forget, there will always be people that love you, for you. You don’t need to be someone else; you just needed the confidence to be yourself.

  “Your friend forever, Jeff.”

  I wanted to be angry at him for leaving, but I knew he only wanted what was best for me.

  I took the key out to the parking lot where he’d left it. It sat there like an old man, waiting to be woken up. The car was a little popular. A couple of guys had gathered around the car. One of the members of the group was peering into the driver’s seat, wide-eyed and curious.

  I approached, key in hand.

  “Whoa, is this your car,” he asked, amused.

  I nodded.

  “This is a gorgeous ride, a little rough around the edges, but it’ll take you anywhere as long as you have a full tank of gas.”

  I looked at him, somewhat quizzically. He was tall and lanky, not very muscular at all. He had a backpack on that looked stuff full of books and papers. His angular chin and high cheekbones gave him a regal stature.

  “What’s your name,” I asked.

  “Nathan,” he replied, offering a hand.

  I shook his hand and flashed the key again.

  “Wanna go for a ride,” I asked.

  His face beamed with excitement, and he ran around to the passenger side. I slid into the driver’s seat, running my hands along the grooves in the steering wheel.

  With a flick of the key, the monster roared to life.

  “Where are we going,” he asked.

  I smiled.

  “For a ride,” I replied, dropping the car into gear. The tires squealed, and the car shot down the road. I felt free.

  *****

  THE END

  SPORTS Romance - My Stepbrother’s Game – A College Hockey Romance

  1.

  I was having difficulty concentrating on my book; it could be said that it was a little bit my fault, though; reading at a sporting event is always difficult. The crowd is always jumping to their feet or hollering about a goal.

  Kathy sat next to me, cheering her lungs out.

  “Isn’t this just the most fun you’ve had in your life,” she quipped.

  “Right, fun,” I replied, trying my best to concentrate on my reading.

  There are so many places you can visit and adventures you can have; all of these things while sitting in a comfy chair while drinking tea. I don’t think Kathy really understood how much fun I had while reading.

  “Seriously, Casey. You’re a real downer right now with that book,” she said.

  I rolled my eyes behind the pages of my book. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that. The school room assignments saw fit to randomly place an introvert with an extrovert. I was reaping the rewards of having a roommate more outgoing than me.

  Kathy snatched the book from my hands and gestured to the ice rink in front of me.

  “This is all the action you need right now, come on Casey. Give it a try for just ten minutes and I won’t bother you again for the rest of the night,” she pleaded.

  I took my book back.

  “Do you promise,” I asked snidely.

  “If you can manage after enjoying all this action,” she said.

  I stuffed my book into my purse and turned my attention to the athletes providing the entertainment.

  The two teams flurried about, doing their best to attack the puck. Our star player was on the field, heading down the ice towards where Kathy and I sat, with the puck shuffling back and forth on his stick.

  For a brief moment, I could make out the baby blue in his eyes, and I felt his stare shooting at me. Everything fell away in the moment; the crowd cheered, but I was deaf to their tune, as though nothing else mattered.

  Then a rival player smashed him hard into the glass that I was sitting near. I held my hand to my mouth, feeling his pain shoot through my head.

  It didn’t seem to faze him much; he just turned my direction, smiled, blew a kiss and shuffled the puck from the corner.

  “I think he saw me,” Kathy said.

  I could see her already begin to swoon. More times than I could count I’d returned to the dorm room with a sock waiting for me on the door. It was the standard signal for me to get comfy at the local coffee shop until she told me it was all clear.

  I wouldn’t say that she slept with a lot of different people; she just liked to sleep with the same people very often. I would always do my best not to judge her choices, but honestly, none of the boys held much interest for me. Most of the men around here reminded me of home, and that bothered me to consider.

  In the small amount of time I watched, I witnessed two different fights on the ice. The referee would always back off for the briefest of seconds as the idiots would have a go at trading blows. I did my best to avoid giggling at their stupidity, but even so it was hard to suppress.

  “I hear they’re having a party after the game, we should go, it’s Friday, could be fun!”

  As she continued to talk I-having fulfilled my requisite time watching-returned to my book. She scoffed, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to finish the chapter before the game was over so I wouldn’t have to remember my place on the way home.

  “Okay, that’s it. You’re staying for the party. You need to get out and meet people,” she said.

  “Not interested,” I replied.

  “If you come, this time, I promise I won’t bother you for at least a month,” she suggested.

  The idea of being able to be left to myself was tempting, but definitely not enough.

  “How about, if I go, you won’t have sex in the dorm for a month,” I suggested in jest.

 
“Deal,” she responded all too quickly.

  “I was just kidding, really. I don’t want to go,” I said.

  “Too bad, we have a deal.”

  I slumped into my chair, wishing I hadn’t said anything at all. Before long, the game time had elapsed, and our team ended up the victor. This party had all the sudden become a victory party, and I had an inkling of what that might entail.

  2.

  ‘Come to the party,’ she said, ‘we’ll have some fun,’ she said. Why do I always get stuck being the person she drags to these stupid things. I’d rather just be curled up at home, reading a book, and getting to sleep early.

  That’s what I get for having a roommate that can’t do anything by herself. She just has to pull me along, until she finds someone more interesting to talk to, and then she forgets about me.

  This would be the fourth party in recent memory that this has happened. I watched her from afar, chatting with a couple of boys, whom I’m sure she had every interest in sleeping with tonight. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  They held the party at the now empty ice rink where our local hockey team had just won. I wasn’t much of a hockey fan. When I was a little kid, my dad would have the games on in the den, sitting beer in hand, while shouting excitedly at the T.V. I never minded curling up nearby while he watched, I’d just read a book and forget what silly things the boys said at school.

  I still remember when he got me into skating; he wanted a son more than a daughter, but he did the best with what he had. He tried getting me into hockey; its popularity never waned through all of elementary school. Instead of getting into that sport, I found myself oddly taken by figure skating.

  He rolled his eyes at the idea, but never once said a bad thing about it whenever he’d take me to practice. I miss him, even though we never really saw eye to eye.

  I had a feeling I might be roped into an after party, Kathy always knew how to pry me out of my shell. Having brought along my old pair of ice skates, I thought now was as good a time as any to get back on the ice. A smattering of other partygoers had already convened on the Ice and had started playing games. I hadn’t much interest in their brand of fun, so I did my best to avoid their gaze.

  I stiffly started to skate about before finding my stride. I could feel the cool air stinging in my nostrils, as I sped along the outer edge of the rink. It had been a while since I’d been on the ice myself, but I felt the memories of all my old lessons coming back to me.

  I started skating backwards, as I was taught, and I felt a surge of adrenaline course through my veins. It was a feeling I always had before I did something that felt right, but was usually stupid. It felt right enough to me, as I pushed off the ice and did a quick spin in the air, narrowly landing without falling.

  It took me a second to catch my breath; I hadn’t done any figure skating since before my dad died. Even so, landing that jump brought back a few memories that I wish had stayed buried, as I felt a couple of tears begin to form at the corner of my eyes.

  A small bit of applause began to roar from the center of the ice. My skating had garnered their attention, against my better judgment. I turned to them and took a quick bow, to appease their cheers, skating backward the entire way.

  Then I bumped into him.

  I lost my footing and fell over backwards, my legs flipping over my head, making me land face first on the ice while still sliding backwards. Then a hand shot out to stop me, which was, at least, a modicum of solace.

  I couldn’t make out who was helping me, but was thankful that I was being helped up at all. I barely needed to do any of the work, as it seemed he felt intent to pick me all the way up. In fact, he did, cradling me in his arms for a moment while laughing.

  I rolled my eyes and pushed off, finding myself standing back on the ice and more than a little woozy from the fall.

  “You know, you should watch where you’re going when there’s a crowd on the ice,” he said between laughs.

  I scowled at him for a second before responding.

  “You could have gotten out of my way!”

  “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have seen you do a backflip. Did anyone tell you that you’re cute when you’re angry?”

  I flared my nostrils and began to skate away. He followed after me, to my chagrin.

  “Why are you following me,” I asked.

  “I wanted to make sure I was there to catch you if you tripped over someone else,” he replied.

  “I can see where I’m going, just go away,” I said, steering out of the way of the group on the center of the ice.

  “Are you sure,” he asked, coyly.

  I stopped and wheeled around to confront him.

  “You’re the worst kind of jerk,” I started, “at least normal jerks stop bothering me when I ask them to.”

  He laughed.

  I hadn’t had a good look at him before, but now that I was looking at him face to face, and not woozy from falling over, he was actually a little attractive.

  A smattering of thick stubble surrounded his chiseled chin, as his thick unkempt hair tousled around his head, falling down to his forehead in wavy circles. He was taller than me, even though I was on skates. I couldn’t see much under his puffy, thick, winter jacket, but he wore it well with a strong stature.

  “Didn’t I see you at the game, earlier?” he asked.

  Now that I looked, I saw the same icy blue eyes staring back at me that I’d seen during the game earlier.

  “You’re the player that got shoved against the glass,” I said.

  He tousled his hair with his hand.

  “Yeah, I still feel that one,” he replied, “are you enjoying the party?”

  I looked over at the group gathered around the keg; they laughed as though being drunk were the best thing in the world.

  “I was enjoying it in my own way, until you decided that I should be doing backflips instead of skating,” I said.

  He laughed.

  I didn’t know I was a comedian.

  “Considering how sober you are right now, you must come with me.”

  I stared at him quizzically.

  “Just follow me, it’s important,” he said, beckoning me to follow.

  My curiosity was taking over, and out of instinct and adventure I followed. He led me to the other side of the arena, to the group gathered around the keg.

  “I have the other person for my team,” he shouted.

  The crowd let out a collected cheer, and I was regretting wearing my ice skates right now.

  “Okay, here’s the game. It’s team style beer pong; the winning team gets to choose a suitable punishment for the losing team. Standard rules, no rebounds.”

  I felt like an idiot joining in on this inane game. An excuse to drink and throw things around was all it really was, and thinly veiled at that.

  A ping pong ball was thrust into my hand. I leaned over to my partner and whispered in his ear.

  “What do I do,” I asked in earnest.

  He leaned in to explain.

  “Throw the ball into their cups, if it goes in they have to drink the contents of the glass, and the same goes for us. If they run out of cups, we win. You’re pretty sober, so I’m hoping you can throw straight.”

  I flicked the ball around in my hand before lining up my shot. It landed right in the front cup. I felt a surge of excitement as the boy on their team picked up the glass and guzzled down the brown liquid.

  My joy was short lived as he answered right back by splashing me with the beer in the cup in front of me. My partner gestured to the glass, and I begrudgingly took the glass and drink heartily.

  The exchange became fierce; we’d attack and force them to drink, and they’d respond in kind. As the alcohol began to make my vision blurry, I began letting out a string of obscenities that would have made my father proud.

  My loud mouth caught a few laughs from the people nearby, and I felt a little bit of enjoyment from being so well received.

  We w
ere down to our last cups; one more success would mean that we’d get to pick a fun punishment for our rivals. I was already thinking up terrible things to make them do; I would have them run around the block naked, or I’d have them go for a dip in the lake even though most of it was frozen over from the winter cold.

  My teammate stepped up for his, hopefully final, toss. I could hear my heartbeat in my chest as the suspense was killing me. He loosed it, and it bounced just off the edge of the tiny red cup.

  I exhaled a sigh of utter defeat even though we had yet to lose. The girl on the other team bobbed and weaved about while trying to line up her shot, and I hoped she would miss. I knew I could make the final throw.

  But, it was all for not. She lazily tossed the ball that bounced off the table a few times before planting it squarely in the last glass on our side.

  “That shouldn’t count, you can barely see straight,” I said. Although, that wasn’t all I had to say as even more unsportsmanlike slurs ushered from my lips.

  Still, I snagged the last glass from the table, which sloshed around in my drunken grasp, before downing the beverage in one gulp. It was at that point that I let out the most unladylike belch.

  My partner did nothing but laugh, watching me stumble around on my skates. I took a moment and sat myself upon the ground to remove them when the winning team started chiming in with their decision for punishment.

  “Okay, Rick. Your punishment is, you have to kiss the dirtiest mouth at this whole party,” said the girl.

  I started laughing while wondering who that might be. Then I found my answer when my partner, Rick, plucked me from the floor and started kissing me. At first, I tried my best to push away, but the firmness of his lips and the rush of adrenaline I had from losing the game were getting the best of me. I liked it, and my head yearned for more human contact.

  He pulled his head back slowly, craning his neck to give me some space while looking into my eyes. For the briefest of seconds, I thought he might feel the same way as I did, but he just unwound his arms and started to walk away.

  “Okay, what’s your name,” the girl asked.

  “I’m Casey,” I said while picking my skates up off the ground.