The Boy Next Door

by Jessica Jarman

  Determined not to think of him, she headed to her parents’ house. She would call Mac to see if he wanted to celebrate her new job with dinner and a little time spent at his place after. A warm, delicious ache settled between her legs at the thought.

  He was always in her thoughts since that night. It’d only been two days, and she missed him. Not just the sex, either. He’d been working—his advertising firm had a big account that was winding down. It needed his attention now, so he’d have free time for the big anniversary shindig the next weekend. He took the week after that off, which worked out great, because Darcy’s parents would be on their cruise. That left her open to enjoy Mac.

  She arrived home to find her mother and Mac’s in the kitchen. The two friends greeted her warmly when she entered the room.

  “Hello, honey. I was wondering where you were.” Her mother raised her eyebrows in question.

  “Just out and about.”

  She walked to the fridge to hunt up something to eat. Early in the day, she’d been too nervous and worked up about the interview to even think of food. Now hunger rumbled in her belly. Pulling some cheese and ham out, she began to assemble a sandwich and turned an ear to the older women’s conversation.

  “Well, he did take her on the date, but afterward called me up and told me not to set him up anymore.” Aunt Sue shook her head. “I just don’t understand. A man his age should be thinking of beginning a family. He’s focused on his career until now. Not that I think he shouldn’t work hard and do his best, but there is more to life than work.”

  “Yes, you’re absolutely right.”

  Darcy rolled her eyes at her mother’s quick agreement. Were they talking about Mac? They had to be. So, his mother was still trying to foist women on him. Her mother surely encouraged her friend’s actions and probably helped her set things up. This was exactly why she put off telling her parents about her and Richard, though she had to sooner or later.

  “Then he told me that he didn’t want to be involved in a serious relationship right now.” She sounded absolutely scandalized. “He wants to concentrate on his work. I don’t know what to do, Marie.”

  Darcy couldn’t hold back. “Why do you have to do anything, Aunt Sue? If Mac isn’t interested, isn’t that his decision?”

  “Of course it is, but he doesn’t even make an effort. I think the last real relationship he had was over a year ago.” She sighed and rested her chin on her hand. “I really thought she was the one. That he’d marry her and start a family. He hasn’t been involved with anyone lately.”

  He was certainly involved with someone. Darcy bit her lip and turned to search for a soda in the fridge before joining them at the table.

  “He’s thirty-one, Auntie. I think he can figure out what he wants. Maybe you should just let him do that.”

  “Oh, honey,” her mother cooed and patted her arm. “A mother can’t just stand back and watch her child let life slip him or her by. You’ll understand when you and Richard have children. You want what is best for them and will try to help them along the way.”

  The chance of her and Richard producing offspring was about the same as her running naked through Mall of America singing “Yankee Doodle Dandy”. She nibbled her sandwich and half listened as the mothers went on and on about poor woman-less Mac. What would they say if she informed them that she and the poor man in question had torn up the sheets downstairs a couple of nights ago?

  The thought of Mac not wanting a serious relationship danced in her head. Did it matter to her? Was he interested in just sex? She threw that idea aside. They were friends, first and foremost. And she wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, so why would the fact that he wasn’t bother her? It shouldn’t, and she wasn’t going to let it.

  “I’ll talk to you later.” She stood and brought her dish to the sink before heading downstairs.

  “Oh, Darcy, a package came for you. I left it on your bed,” her mother called after her.

  A package? Who would be sending her a package? She walked into her room. A large padded FedEx envelope lay on the comforter. The return address was a Minneapolis post office box. Confused, she tore it open and pulled out two pieces of cardboard. Separating them, a plastic wrapped sheet of thick paper fell into her lap. She tossed the cardboard aside and picked up the sheet. It was a sketch. She gasped at the signature in the corner. It was a Cynthia Borton, one of her favorite artists. Darcy had a considerable collection of her paintings, but didn’t own any sketches. Fairly sure Borton didn’t put her sketches on the market, Darcy wondered who had sent it and how they’d gotten ahold of it.

  She carefully laid the piece on the bedside table and picked up the cardboard and envelope, searching for a note. Nothing. Then it dawned on her. Richard. He had the connections to obtain such a rare item. He also had friends and associates in the Twin Cities area, so that would explain the Minneapolis return address. He had someone else mail it to her. Smart of him, because if his address had been on envelope, she’d have been tempted to burn the thing without even opening it. Then the beautiful sketch would have been lost. She picked it up and studied it. Obviously this gift combined with the phone calls was an attempt to get her back. Ha, fat chance. Again, running naked through Mall of America held more appeal, but that wouldn’t stop her from enjoying the sketch.

  After admiring it for a moment, she carefully inserted the drawing back in the envelope and placed it on her dresser. She still had a lot to do. Getting the teaching position was a great start to her new life. Now she needed to find a place to live.

  Grabbing the cordless phone and a pen, she strolled into the family room where the paper lay on the coffee table. Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, she grabbed it and opened to the rental ads. A two-bedroom would be best, one to sleep in, the other for a studio. Circling those that looked promising, Darcy started calling to make appointments. She had just hung up with the last one when her parents came downstairs.

  “Goldfinger is on in five minutes, Darc. Hope you weren’t watching anything,” her father, the ultimate Bond fan, warned.

  “Nope, not a thing. Did Aunt Sue go home?”

  “Yes. Honey, what are you reading?” Her mother peered over her shoulder.

  Darcy rolled her eyes and sighed when her mother gasped in her ear. Let the questions begin.

  “Why are you looking at apartments? What’s going on? Fred, Darcy is looking at apartment rental ads,” she informed her husband.

  “What’s this, Darcy?” he asked, settling into the overstuffed armchair next to the sofa.

  “Well, you might as well know. Things…” She glanced sharply at her mother who still hovered behind her, hand fluttering near her chest. “Mom, please, would you sit down?”

  When her mother sat next to her, she tried again. “Things didn’t work out with Richard and me. We split up.”

  “Oh my goodness!” her mother exclaimed. “Why? What happened? You two seemed so happy together.”

  Her father leaned over and patted her knee.

  “We were happy for awhile, I guess. But it became clear we weren’t going to be happy in the long run.” That was true enough. It had been abundantly clear to Darcy when she saw Richard in bed with two big-boobed bimbos that she would not be happy with the jerk.

  “Oh, that’s too bad. I suppose it’s good that you figured this out now and not after you walked down that aisle,” her mother commented.

  “So to make a long story short, I decided to come back to Minnesota. Nothing’s holding me in Chicago.” Darcy hoped that would be the end of the subject.

  The puzzled look on her mother’s face told her she was foolishly hoping.

  “But why are you looking for an apartment? You’ll stay here, of course.”

  Tread carefully. “Mom, as much as I love to be here, I need my own space. I’m looking at two-bedroom places, so I’ll have the extra studio space. And,” she rushed to say when her mother’s mouth opened in protest, “I want to be close to the community colle
ge. I had an interview today and was offered the position. I’ll be teaching again this fall.”

  “Well, I guess that makes sense, but honey, why rent? You could buy. A nice townhouse, perhaps,” her mother suggested.

  “Maybe sometime in the future, but for right now, I’m going to rent. I’m looking at a couple apartments this afternoon, actually.” She hoped her tone was firm. This had to be the end of the subject.

  A quick glance at the couple had her folding the paper and standing. Her mother looked stunned. Her mouth kept opening and shutting. Darcy knew from experience that meant the older woman was ready to burst. She needed to get out now.

  “I’m going to go change. Don’t have to be dressed up to look at apartments. I’ll keep ya posted.” She darted out of the room.

  Her mother’s voice trailed behind her. “Well, I am just shocked, Fred. I’m going to call Sue.”

  Safely behind her bedroom door, Darcy heaved a sigh of relief. Her mother would call Mac’s mother and have a field day with the breakup. They probably start throwing her and Mac together again.

  Though, this time around, not much protesting would happen.

  After exchanging her dress pants and blouse for shorts and a tank, she flopped back on the bed and dialed Mac’s apartment. When the voicemail picked up, she said, “Hey, you. Didn’t want to bug you at work. If you aren’t too late tonight, give me call. We have some celebrating to do. I got the job. Woo hoo! If you’re late, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.”

  She hit the end button and stared at the phone. Who could she look up? A number of her friends were still in the area—most were married, some with kids. Guilt swept over Darcy for not keeping in touch. Pushing it aside, she reached down next to bed and found her shoulder bag. She scanned the names and numbers in her day planner before dialing.

  “Hi, Colleen. It’s Darcy.”

  “Darcy! Oh my gosh, I haven’t heard from you in ages. Are you in town? Visiting?” The bubbly voice surged from the phone and had her grinning.

  “I’m in town, but not visiting. I’m back for good now.” She fiddled with the tabs in the planner on her lap.

  “Really? That is great! Does that mean you and Richard…” Colleen trailed off.

  “Yeah, pretty much. Are you busy today? Maybe we could get together. I’m looking at some apartments later, but we could meet for coffee?” Boy, she sounded desperate.

  “How about I go with you? We’ll stop for lunch and find you an apartment. Catch up while we’re at it.”

  Relief swept over Darcy. “That sounds great. Should I pick you up? Give me directions to your place.”

  ———

  “You slept with Mac?”

  “Shhhhh, you don’t have to announce it to everyone.” Darcy glanced around the small café before grinning at Colleen Dilanger. “And we didn’t sleep.”

  “This is unbelievable.” The tiny brunette stared at her friend. “After all these years. Wow. And?” she prompted.

  “And it was incredible. I don’t know what came over us. We’ve been friends forever. I don’t understand it, but I’m enjoying it.”

  “So are you guys a couple? Or just dating? Or is it just sex?” The questions spilled out.

  Darcy bit her lip. Those were the very questions that plagued her. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it. I mean, the sex is great and all, but we’re still friends. I know I can go to him for anything. Does that make us a couple?”

  Colleen studied her intently. “I don’t know. You guys have to figure that out. But, hey, nothing wrong with a single man and woman enjoying sex with no strings attached. This is a new millennium, and we are modern women, are we not?”

  “Oh, please, you have so many strings attached to you, Mrs. Dilanger.” Darcy chuckled and pointed to her friend’s rounded stomach. “I about fell over when you came to the door.”

  “Well, I just started showing and we haven’t been telling people until recently.”

  “And I haven’t kept in touch with you,” Darcy said quietly.

  “Stop it. You’re in touch now, and you’re moving back. Doesn’t get any better than that. Now, are you done eating? Ready to go apartment hunting?”

  “Yeah, let’s go find me a place to live.”

  ———

  Darkness was settling when Darcy returned to her parents’. Both her mother and father were downstairs watching the news. She rounded the couch and sat down.

  “Well I have good news. I found an apartment. It’s perfect. Within walking distance of the college, so on nice days, I’ll get a bit of exercise. It has two huge bedrooms with great lighting. And the rent is just right.”

  “That’s good, honey. When do you move in?” queried her mother.

  “I’ll go sign the lease in a few days and I can move my stuff in about two weeks. Now I just have to arrange for all my things to be moved.” She gave a playful groan.

  “I’ll ask around about reputable movers,” her father chimed in.

  “Thanks, Dad. I think I’m going to read for a bit.” She stood and, hoping to sound causal, asked, “Did anyone call for me?”

  “Not this evening. Were you expecting a call?” Her mother glanced at up at her.

  “Um, not really. Just wondering. G’night.”

  “Oh, Darcy.”

  Darcy paused at her doorway. “Yeah, Mom?”

  “Do you have dinner plans tomorrow?”

  Unfortunately, she didn’t have any plans yet. “Nope.”

  “Good, you can come with us to the club. I’ll call and reserve us a table. Night, honey.”

  In her room, Darcy grabbed her pajamas and ducked into the adjoining bath. She made quick work of changing and washing up and was soon curled up on her bed, novel in hand. Several pages later, the phone shrilled next to her.

  She pounced on it, hitting the talk button. “Hello?”

  “Hey, beautiful.” His voice floated from the phone and caressed her. Warmed by it, she tossed the book aside and snuggled beneath the sheet.

  “Hey, you. Did you just get home?”

  “Yeah. Thankfully only another day or two of this. I’m beat. I almost didn’t listen to my messages. Congratulations on the job, professor.”

  She chuckled. “Thanks. You need your rest. Go on to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Sorry, you didn’t get a celebration.”

  “Another time,” she whispered with a smile. “I do wish you were here though.”

  “Hmmmm, are you in bed?” The question came out low and rough.

  Darcy’s eyes widened. “Um, yeah. I was reading.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  Oh my. “Nothing spectacular. Just a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. I don’t have any sexy nighties,” she said, apologetically.

  His chuckle aroused her. “You’d make a paper bag look sexy. Do you know what I’d do if I were there?”

  She wet her lips and struggled to control her breathing. His voice caused a surge of heat to rush through her. “What?”

  “I’d lift up the tank top and take your breasts in my hands. They fit perfectly, Darc, right in the palm of my hand. I’d touch your rosy nipples and they’d pucker right up under my fingers. Are they hard now, Darc?”

  With a groan, she answered, “Yeah.”

  “Put your hands up your shirt and cup your breasts. Close your eyes and feel my hands, baby. Can you feel them?”

  Darcy pulled the thin tank up and cupped her breasts, heavy with desire. Her nipples ached as they hardened to tight nubs. She felt the jolt of longing and need course straight between her legs to her already soaked pussy. Her eyes slid shut as her fingers caressed. “Yeah, I feel them, Mac.”

  “Good, ‘cause I’d spend a lot of time there. I love your breasts. I’d use my fingers, my lips, my tongue, even my teeth, until you were squirming beneath me.”

  Her fingers kneaded her breasts and gently tugged on their peaks as he whispered in her ear. “Then I’d move down, ove
r that flat, sexy belly of yours. Move your hand down, Darc. I’d run my fingers through the soft curls nestled between your thighs. I’d take my time, knowing you were hot and wet, ready for me. Then I’d run a finger over your clit and into you. Are you wet, right now, Darcy? Are you hot and ready for me?”

  She ran her hand down into her shorts to rest between her legs. She ached for him, felt the pulsating need grow more intense, more insistent. Her finger slid over her sensitive, swollen clitoris, pulling a ragged gasp from deep within.

  “Yeah,” she gasped unable to say another word.

  “I’d put my mouth on you then. Can you feel my lips? My tongue?”

  Her pussy was hot and wet as she glided a finger into its depths, in and out, in and out. She concentrated on his voice—thought of him, of his hands and mouth on her, of his cock inside her. Her breaths came out in short bursts, echoing in the telephone cradled against her ear.

  “Soon I’d have to stop though, ‘cause I’d be so damn hard. Just thinking of you makes me hard. Feeling you and tasting you is a sweet torture. This is when I’d put my cock right up to your pussy. I’d let you glide it right in. And you’d feel so tight and hot.”

  Darcy slid another finger insider her pussy and thought of Mac. Her muscles contracted around her fingers as she drew them out and thrust them back in, over and over. Turning her head, she anchored the phone between her ear and the pillow to free her other hand. Rubbing furious circles around her throbbing clit, she continued to drive her fingers deep inside. The pressure, the ache grew stronger and more intense.

  “Oh, Mac,” she cried as the orgasm began to climb, higher and higher.

  “I can almost feel you tightening around my cock right now, Darc. You feel so good. Are you coming, baby?” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  The release surged through her, a lovely tightening traveling through her body, rushing to cloud her mind until nothing but the sensations pounding her from the inside out existed. Slowly they subsided and she lay there trembling, trying to capture a coherent thought. She grasped the phone and struggled to catch her breath. “Mac?”