The Neighborhood (Twin Estates #2)

by Stylo Fantome

  “You wear too many layers,” she growled. He chuckled, then started pulling his t-shirt off. She leaned close, running her tongue up the center of his chest.

  “Noted. I'll be naked next time we decide to fight,” he replied, his hands briefly slipping down the back of her jeans before sliding around to the front. He pulled the button open, then slid the zipper down before pushing at the material.

  “I don't want to fight anymore,” she said, shifting her hips side to side, allowing the denim to fall at her feet.

  “You love to fight,” he whispered back.

  Then he was picking her up again and she went willingly, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  It was dark in her room, just a lonely street lamp from outside casting a glow into the space. He stumbled over a purse that had been left on the floor, almost sending them both to the ground. But he managed to maintain his balance, tripping across the room. He didn't stop kissing her for a second, not even when they fell into her drafting table. He sat her on the edge of it, then kissed a trail down her chest.

  “God, what are we doing?” she suddenly said, raking her hands through her crazy hair.

  “Shh, you ruin things when you talk,” he replied, both his hands spanning her rib cage and gently pushing her so she was laying flat.

  “But we're mad at each other,” she kept talking. “I'm mad at you. This is such a bad idea.”

  “So angry,” he breathed, his breath hot against her stomach. “Can't even see straight. Not aware of what I'm doing even.”

  “Nice try,” she almost laughed. “You're always aware -”

  Her breath caught in her throat when he folded down the top of her panties and blew a stream of cold air against sensitive skin. Then she gasped when his mouth moved lower, his tongue finding other more sensitive body parts as her underwear was worked down her legs.

  “So mad,” he spoke against her, sending vibrations along every nerve ending she owned. “I think you deserve to be punished.”

  “Yes, please, god, whatever,” she chanted, willing to say anything he wanted if it kept his lips on her.

  It didn't work, though. He moved away for a second, making her moan at the loss of body heat. Then her panties were yanked clear of her feet. She opened her eyes just as he stepped close again and his hands were back on her ribs, yanking her upright.

  She moved easily, coiling her arms around his neck. Letting her hands wander along his broad shoulders, his smooth skin. It had been so long. She hadn't realized how much she missed touching him.

  Bad idea or not, she was beyond caring. Beyond rational thought, even. Definitely beyond stopping. Both their hands were between their bodies, pulling his belt apart, shoving his pants down. Before she could touch him, though, he was grabbing her hands, forcing them over her breasts.

  “Take this off,” he growled, curling his fingers over the top of her bra cups.

  She was heeding his command, both hands behind her back to undo the clasp, when she felt his erection between her legs. While she was flicking the eye-hook apart, he was pushing inside her. She sucked in a deep breath, letting the straps slide free from her arms, and she fell back against the table.

  God, had he always been that big? That thick? She squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to remember how to breathe as he pumped back and forth, in and out. He wasn't giving her time to adjust, just immediately thrusting into her hard and fast. Like he knew if he moved to slowly, her brain would catch up with what they were doing and put a stop to it.

  “Oh my god,” she whispered, raising her arms above her head and pressing her palms flat against the wall. “Holy shit, Wulf. Oh my god.”

  “Jesus, was it always this good?” he asked, raking a hand down her chest.

  “Yes,” she said, then cried out when he started pumping harder. “God, so good. You're so good.”

  Suddenly she was yanked upright. She let out a squeak as she was pulled off the table. He had to kick free of his pants as he moved them across the room. Then he dropped them onto the bed, his full weight almost driving her through the mattress. She shrieked, impaled on his hard on.

  “This was always going to happen,” he whispered, his lips moving over her breasts, his hands following close behind. “What the fuck were you thinking, trying to shut me out?”

  She was seething and writhing underneath him, so full and so desperate for friction. She needed him to move, needed him to cure the ache that was growing deep inside of her.

  “I don't know, I don't know. Please, Wulf, please,” she pleaded. It was like he'd taken every nerve ending to the height of pleasure, and then pushed pause. It was almost painful. Could someone die of pleasure overload?

  But what a way to go.

  “Now she begs,” he chuckled, his hand briefly wrapping around her throat. “Tried to kick me out half an hour ago, and now she begs me for more.”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she whispered. The hand left her throat and worked its way into her hair.

  “Is this what you wanted? To pit us against each other? See how we stacked up against each other? Did he get this far?” he asked. She frowned and put both hands against his chest, trying to create some space between them.

  “No. No, please, don't, I don't want to -”

  The hand in her hair pulled tight, causing her head to snap back. He finally answered her prayers and started moving again, pumping his hips slowly a couple times. But then he pulled away completely.

  “I know what you want. Turn around.”

  The hand in her hair was pulling even harder, setting her scalp on fire, and his other hand was between her legs, keeping her blood boiling. While long fingers slid in and out of her, she slowly rolled around onto her stomach.

  He used both his hands to yank her hips into the air, dug his fingers into her flesh as he fucked her from behind. She started moaning again, clutching her bedspread between closed fists. When she started pushing back against him, urging him faster, one of his hands went back to her hair, pulling her up again.

  “Please, Wulf, I'm so close,” she cried, reaching out and trying to grip the top of her bed frame. He was fucking her so hard the bed posts were slamming into her wall and she couldn't keep hold of it. It didn't matter anyway, since he kept tugging on her hair. Her back was forced to bend, her spine arching until the back of her head was touching his jaw.

  “You have no idea how close you are,” he hissed in her ear, then she felt his teeth on her earlobe, biting down hard.

  “God, I need you. Please,” she all but sobbed, reaching over her shoulder and trying to touch him, combing her fingers through his thick hair.

  “Of course you do. No one can make you feel this,” he whispered, his tongue trailing along the side of her neck. He finally let go of her hair and she managed to nod.

  “No one,” she agreed. His free hand moved from her head down to her breasts, briefly toying with her nipples before continuing its southward journey.

  “I want you to think about that,” he growled, his fingers diving into her slick heat. A thousand different muscles clenched and pulsed, forcing another shriek out of her. “Next time you think you're confused. Think about what I'm doing to you right now, about how I make you feel, next time you're with him.”

  This is a bad, bad, so monumentally bad, idea.

  But it was too late. She was shrieking in time to his thrusts, crying out as his fingers strummed faster, coming hard while he continued fucking her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had an orgasm that big – it had probably been with him. She moaned as her whole body went into spasms, everything falling apart, inside and out.

  Again, she needed space. She needed time, her body wanted to crash. But Wulf didn't care. He just kept fucking her, keeping her locked in the orgasm. She was shaking so much, she couldn't do anything, couldn't hold onto anything. He finally moved his hand away and she fell forward, pressing her face into the blankets as her arms stretched out limply at her sides.

  “See what
happens when you listen to me?” he said, breathing hard as his thrusts turned almost brutal. She could barely pay attention to what he was saying – her ears were ringing and her eyes were rolling back in her head. “You get everything you want. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing.”

  Each word was punctuated with a slam of his hips. Accompanied by a shriek from her throat. Then he was hunching over her, gripping her rib cage so tightly, she thought he was going to break something. He hissed curse words as he came hard, his hips twitching against her ass.

  Finally. I can breathe again.

  When he eventually let go of her, it felt like he had to work his fingers out from between each individual rib bone. Katya groaned and slid down flat on the mattress, stretching her legs out behind her when he moved away.

  She was in orbit. In a different galaxy. She folded her arms up at her side and just laid there, gasping for air, her hair a wild mess all around her. She was vaguely aware that he was moving around, but she couldn't lift her head to see what he was doing. He'd fucked her into a pool of orgasmic goo, stolen every single one of her bones.

  Maybe stole a little more than your bones …

  “Jesus,” she finally croaked out. From somewhere to her right, he chuckled.

  “Close. You owe me a tie, Tocci.”

  She frowned. She didn't care for his tone of voice, not one bit. Flippant and cold, almost snide. It reminded her of how he'd been on their first date, when he'd been so rude to her in that fancy restaurant.

  She managed to pull herself into a sitting position, shoving her hair out of her face. She grabbed a large pillow and held it against her body, then she looked around for him.

  He was by the door, and she was shocked to see that he was halfway dressed. He'd already gotten his shoes, socks, and pants on. His undershirt was draped over his forearm while he worked his belt back into the loops on his slacks.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in a hoarse voice, then she rubbed at her throat.

  “I came here for dinner,” he said, glancing at her once before shaking out his t-shirt. “I'm starving.”

  “Oh,” she frowned. She was confused. What was going on? “I mean, I guess I could cook something -”

  “I have reservations,” he interrupted her, pulling the shirt into place and tucking it into his pants.

  “Reservations?”

  “Yes. When I realized you weren't going to cook for me, I had decided to take us out for a meal. But you had other plans,” he replied, combing his fingers through his hair. Then he turned in a slow circle, staring at the floor around him. He finally spotted his dress shirt, laying in the hall, and he strode out to it.

  “You're leaving!?” Katya exclaimed, climbing onto her knees and hugging the pillow tightly to her chest.

  “Of course,” he said, slipping his arms into the sleeves.

  “But … but ...” she stammered. While he buttoned up the shirt, he headed back into her room.

  “But what? You told me to get out, remember? So I'm going,” he said in a calm voice. His dress shirt was finally tucked in, and to look at him, it was almost impossible to tell he'd just fucked the life and bones and soul out of someone.

  What the fuck is going on!?

  “Wulfric!” she snapped his name. “I think we've moved beyond our stupid fight!”

  “We certainly have. We just worked out some very pent up aggression – thank you for that, by the way.”

  “Are you serious right now?” she asked. He nodded and moved to kneel on the mattress in front of her.

  “Yes – my reservations were half an hour ago. I would invite you, but you're a mess right now,” he teased her. She glared at him.

  “Not funny.”

  “It's hilarious. We'll have to do this again soon,” he informed her, smoothing his hands over her hair. She gaped at him.

  “What we just did was -”

  “Was something we could've been doing all along,” he suddenly whispered, leaning down close to her. She swallowed thickly and stared up at him. “How fun are your little games, now?”

  “This isn't a game,” she whispered back. He smiled his shitty little smirk.

  “Nice try,” he chuckled. “Cuddles with Liam? Sex with me? I hope you're keeping score somewhere, because I just hit a home run. But next time, please, spare my clothing? No more food fights.”

  She was shocked. He thought it had all been a ploy. That having Liam over that afternoon had been part of her stupid challenge, and then sleeping with Wulf had just been upping the ante. Of course, why would he think otherwise? She'd never told him it was different.

  Her mouth was still hanging open when he closed the gap between them and kissed her. She held completely still, her mind reeling, while his arms wrapped around her and his hands smoothed over her bare back. Then he slapped her on the ass and pulled away.

  “See you soon, Tocci.”

  Her mouth was still open, and she continued gaping as he walked out of her room. Strode down her hallway. Slammed the door shut behind him as he left.

  Then she let out a shriek and fell forward, screaming into her mattress.

  Such an idiot. I am such an idiot, thinking I could play in the same league with these guys. Shit, what do I do now!?

  20

  Katya rushed from the kitchen onto the bakery floor, carrying a tray full of desserts. A customer squealed in excitement, they both set about picking which one the woman liked best for fiftieth wedding anniversary party.

  Then she had a very private meeting with a semi-famous reality star about his engagement party – an engagement the press knew nothing about, and he wanted to keep it that way. They were able to settle on two cake designs, one for him and one for his fiancée.

  Immediately after that, she was whisked downtown to go over designs for a massive cake that was being commissioned by the mayor's office for his annual Christmas ball. Measurements even needed to be made, and at one point they asked her if she could use real gold in some of the decorations.

  She loved every moment of it all. In the midst of her personal drama, it was easy to forget how much she enjoyed her job, and how good she was at it, how proud it made her feel.

  Yet at the same time, every moment also drove home all the thoughts she'd been having lately. She had to work within the constrictions of her bakery, and the owners would still get a huge cut of the profits from the cake. Obviously, that was completely fair, but Katya wanted bigger. She wanted to set her own hours, take on her own commitments. Bigger projects and less of them – freeing up more time for herself, and allowing her to really challenge her talent.

  She was going over her busy schedule with one of the intern bakers, assigning different details to the young man. She was only halfway through November when the door burst open, letting in a gust of air. Katya glanced up and was surprised to see Tori standing in the shop.

  “Hey!” she said, smiling and handing off her clipboard to her coworker. “This is a nice surprise.”

  “I wanted to see how your first day back was going,” Tori said, unwrapping a scarf from around her neck and glancing around the cases.

  “Busy, good lord.”

  “Too busy for a cup of coffee?”

  “I'd love one – I worked through lunch.”

  Katya leaned into the kitchen enough to holler that she'd be stepping out for fifteen minutes, then she grabbed her coat off a rack and followed Tori out the door. A small tempest was blowing through town, carrying moisture through the air and making her shiver.

  “So it's good?” Tori asked once they were seated in a tiny cafe, sipping at americanos.

  “Yeah. Feels different, after all this time, but it's good. I missed it,” Katya responded.

  “Good. That's good. Now we can talk about way more important stuff.”

  Katya went still. Her roommate didn't know about her less than decorous behavior the night before. She hadn't seen Tori since the morning before, since the girl had gone to straight to work from downtown.
Katya had left her room long enough to tidy up the crazy scene she and Wulf had left in the hallway, then she'd taken a second shower before going to bed early.

  She most definitely didn't deserve dessert, not after the bad things she'd been doing with him. She was embarrassed with herself, that she'd caved so easily. That she'd been so desperate and needy. God, she'd begged him. Begged. It was a little humiliating. And then she hadn't said anything, done anything, to stop him from walking out the door.

  “Like what?” Katya asked carefully. Tori started digging around in her jacket, then pulled a long piece of material out of a pocket.

  “Like what the hell is this?” she asked, dropping it on the table.

  Katya groaned as she realized what it was – Wulf's tie. The one she'd clobbered with the cupcake. It must have gotten tossed or kicked into the kitchen. She'd only cleaned up the hallway. She frowned and picked up the offending piece of silk, looking over the dried and caked on chocolate filling.

  “Um, this is ...” she mumbled, trying to think of a plausible lie.

  “That is sex,” Tori said loudly.

  “Shhh!” Katya hissed quickly when a table of old ladies glanced at them. “It's a frickin' tie, Tori. That's it.”

  “Yeah, okay,” her roommate snickered. “Just an expensive silk tie, that was probably ripped off in a fit of passion and thrown across a room, right before some brooding jerk boffed your brains out.”

  “I will get up and leave, and you will never hear the story,” Katya warned her. Tori sighed and leaned back in her chair.

  “Alright, alright. I'll keep it down. So what happened?”

  Katya gave a watered down version of the evening – a surprisingly cozy dinner with Liam, cuddling on the couch. Waking up and being stalked by an angry wolf. She didn't give all the gory details, but enough to get it across that yes, some brooding jerk had indeed “boffed her brains out”.

  “Please don't make it into a big deal,” she whispered at the end, rolling up Wulf's tie and wrapping it in a napkin before shoving it into her own pocket.

  “How can I not!? For weeks you've been moping around about these dudes – now you're finally back where you were before. Isn't that a good thing?” Tori asked. Katya shook her head.