by Jayce Carter
She hated it.
Or, rather, she wanted to hate it. It wasn’t hard to catch the longing in her brown eyes, the way she’d linger for a moment longer on someone laughing a little loud or the couple making out on the couch.
“So, you decided to stop by?” Gray spread his arms over the back of the couch, smirking at the timid and less-than-happy woman before him.
“Your music is too loud.”
He shrugged. “That’s a good excuse as any, I guess. You could have come over to visit. Didn’t need to make up a story.”
Her mouth snapped shut, opened again then snapped closed. Seeing her flustered was more fun than it should have been. Did that make him a bad person?
Maybe, but damn if I care.
Tabby got her wits about her too fast, crossing her arms and sticking one hip out in what had to be the universal picture of a pissed-off woman. “It’s after midnight, and I can’t sleep with that music going.”
“It’s Friday. Just relax.”
“Some of us actually work for a living.”
He laughed off the barb that didn’t stick. He worked hard but stuck to mostly Monday through Friday deals. “Party is winding down. Another hour and I’ll call it.”
The brown of her eyes, darker because of the dim light of the backyard, caught the reflection of the flames from the firepit as she glared.
Gray pushed a bit. “Come on, Tabby. Wouldn’t kill you to have a little fun.”
Might even save her life. Being wound that tight can’t be good for the heart.
“Turn the music down,” she said before twisting away and stalking back inside.
But Gray didn’t feel nearly done with the conversation. He’d dealt with so many women, most like Haylee, the blonde whom Tabby had caught him with the other morning. They were easygoing, always up for some no-strings fun. None of them challenged him, though.
Which had Gray following the fuming brunette as she went back into the house and searched.
“Looking for someone?”
She cast a cutting look over her shoulder, the glasses stealing some of the threat from it. “My sister.”
There were two of them? He could only imagine the other one, staring daggers at his guests and shuddering at his housekeeping. He stood taller than her, able to scan the room easier.
He didn’t know everyone there, but he’d sure as hell recognize another Tabby. She’d stand out in the middle of his friends just like her sister.
“Damn it, Becky,” Tabby muttered under her breath so quietly Gray almost missed it.
Which brought his focus up to the young girl who was dancing in the middle of the kitchen, a red cup full of who knew what in her hand, her hair brown with streaks of pink and purple in it. “Wait. Becky is your sister?”
“You know her?” If looks had edges, Gray would be bleeding out right about then.
“We’ve met.” Ah, the way red sprang up on her cheeks was a thing of absolute beauty. Sure, he could have explained that he often ate lunch at the local restaurant Becky worked at, but what fun would that be? And maybe, if he was someone who cared what others thought, he’d have explained that nothing else had happened, given that the girl was way too young for Gray, but he enjoyed the fire in Tabby’s gaze.
“Gray!” Becky waved and called from the kitchen before hopping past the people between them, holding her cup high so it wouldn’t spill. “Tab didn’t tell me you were her neighbor.”
Tabby grabbed the red cup and sniffed it, her lip curling up into a look of disgust. “You’re too young to drink.”
Becky rolled her eyes before casting Gray that smile that had always managed to get her tips from anyone she served at work. “So you’re the one who’s been driving her crazy?”
“She been talking about me?” Gray tried to match Becky’s smile, but he knew he couldn’t come close to that level of adorable.
“Only to explain that we’ve had issues because you lack boundaries, as shown by this party.” Tabby shifted her gaze between them, all the questions still there, questions she seemed unwilling to ask. Afraid of the answer?
Becky must have been close to her sister, because she spotted the questions, too. She let out a long-suffering sigh—and Gray couldn’t fault her for that because he couldn’t imagine growing up with an overbearing sister like Tabby—before placing her hands on her hips. “He comes in to eat all the time.”
Relief fluttered across Tabby’s features a split second before she cleared it. Relief? Interesting.
“We should get going,” Tabby said.
“Come on, I don’t have to work tomorrow. Let me enjoy it?”
The hell no was all over Tabby’s face, and whether it was because he felt for Becky or he just really didn’t want Tabby to leave, Gray chimed in. “I said I’d wrap the party up in the next hour. Let her have some fun till then.”
Tabby narrowed her eyes at Gray but didn’t argue. She had probably realized she’d never win the argument. Becky had the set of any kid who had gotten a taste of freedom and didn’t plan on letting it go or listening to anyone else about it.
Becky kissed Tabby’s cheek before rushing off again, plucking her cup from the counter Tabby had put it on.
“She’ll be fine,” Gray said. “This isn’t exactly a lion’s den.”
The look on Tabby’s face said it might as well have been. “If she isn’t home safe and sound in an hour, I will be right back here.” Tabby twisted away, storming toward the front door.
Gray followed her, unwilling to end the exchange just yet. “You can’t really be this much of a wet blanket.”
She didn’t even turn as she slid around a couple leaning against the wall, with the man holding the woman up and only a few scraps of clothing keeping them from full-on fucking in the living room.
“Think whatever you want,” she snapped. “Some of us don’t live our lives fluttering around. Some of us actually decide to be productive members of society.”
A chill from the night hit him as they exited the duplex, but it only made the entire exchange that much more exciting. “Please. What do you know about society? Since I’ve been here, I ain’t seen anyone over at your place. You’re home every time I am, never seem to do anything. What exactly do you know about society if you never see it?”
Tabby spun on him so fast he had to stop short to keep from running right into her. She stared up at him as if she were the bigger, badder one, like she held all the cards. “I’ve known plenty of people like you in my life, people who think they can skirt through the world and that’s all fine for you. For the rest of us? The ones who get left in your wake? I guess you expect us to clean up after. We have to pick up the slack for you, deal with your music and your parties and”—she leaned down and picked up a beer can that had fallen on the shared driveway—“and your mess.”
He could have said he’d have picked up the can. Maybe he didn’t worry so much about perfectly trimmed hedges or mowed grass. Those things didn’t seem that important. Life was short, and he sure as hell didn’t plan to spend his brief go-around making sure all the blades of grass in front of his house were the same length.
Instead, he plucked the can from her fingers and tossed it into the recycling bin in front of his garage. “You were like this well before me, so don’t think you can make this is all about me. Whoever you’re really pissed at, it ain’t me.”
Shadows crossed her face, the sort that happened when someone was forced to recall something they really didn’t want to. Still, she shook her head and drove whatever it was back. “Let’s just say I’m tired of your sort making my life more difficult.”
“And you’re going to pretend that’s all this is? Just annoyance?”
She crossed her arms and met his gaze head-on. Those thick glasses of hers made her look far too cute as she tried to glare through them. “Trust me, annoyance is enough.”
Gray moved in closer, drawn by the alluring sweet scent that hung on her. She wasn’t one of those fa
ncy girls to douse herself in body spray. Nah, he suspected that the vanilla was from her shampoo, something practical and easy. So how exactly did it tempt him more than the most expensive perfume ever had?
She swallowed hard as he stood just in front of her, setting his elbow against the corner of her porch, so similar to the other morning.
“Come on. You don’t watch me in the mornings because you’re just annoyed, unless you’re annoyed you aren’t the one leaving my house.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather not deal with a man-whore.”
The insult didn’t even land. No sting. He was a man-whore and that was fine by him. What two consenting adults did wasn’t anyone else’s business, and he didn’t feel the need to justify it to anyone.
So, if she thought she could shut him up like that, well, she’d be disappointed.
“When was the last time you went out with anyone? Fuck, please tell me you’re a virgin.”
Red flamed over her cheeks and she sputtered for a good twenty seconds before regaining her train of thought. She leaned in to whisper back, “I am not a virgin, not that it is any of your business.”
“Not a virgin, huh? Well then, let me take a guess. Some teenage boy gave you a lot of sweet promises, then dropped you about ten minutes later. Worse, the whole thing wasn’t that good to start with, so you figured, why the fuck give that shit another try?”
Bingo The absolute seething hatred in her face said he’d gotten it right.
And fuck, that really was a shame, to have a girl like this benched all over some idiot who’d probably not known her clit from her elbow. It had him thinking of all the fun lessons that could take place, all the ways he could show her the shit she’d missed out on.
Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned impossibly closer until he could have darted his tongue out to taste her lips. Close enough he could smell the mint from her toothpaste.
“You don’t know anything,” she said with a lot less spark than she’d had earlier, as if he’d derailed her entire ranting tirade with other thoughts.
Thoughts that he personally found much more interesting.
“I know quite a lot, and with the way your pupils are blown wide, I’m going to guess you’re damn curious about learning from me. Don’t worry, Tabby, I’m a good teacher.”
He’d fuck her. Right there, in the driveway if needed. He’d hoist her thighs up and take her against the wall of her porch or bend her over that chair she liked to sit in in the mornings. Whatever it took, he wanted to taste every last damned inch of her vanilla-scented body and see if she could possibly be that prim and proper after he’d stripped her down and coaxed a few good orgasms from her.
Who moved first? Fuck if he knew or cared. It was like they both came to the same conclusion at the same exact time.
Fuck it.
Like a rallying cry, their lips met, throwing aside all the reasons it was a very piss-poor idea.
She tasted of mint, clean and crisp, and not at all like the darkness that took up most of his life. He slid a hand to the nape of her neck, angling her head to deepen the kiss.
They had an hour, and while he’d have preferred time to really enjoy her, he doubted she’d be game for a long session with her sister so close.
So instead, he’d take what he could get.
He rocked his hardness against her, rewarded when she gasped a sweet sound he let soak down into him.
The kiss was intense. Timid, unsure, hungry yet hesitant. That combination wasn’t playing fair.
He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and by some miracle, she let him in, let him lick inside the heat of her mouth, let him tease her tongue with his own.
She set her hands on his chest, flat and trapped between their bodies, and for the first time, he got a sense of her figure beneath the baggy top she wore. She was all softness, all gentle, womanly curves. Her breasts were small, hardly a handful, and her hips spread out into the perfect places to grasp.
He’d slipped his other hand under the top, finding heated skin beneath, when the crash of a closing door broke the spell.
Tabby acted like the feline she shared the nickname with, shoving away from him as though burned.
He let her go just in time for one of his guests to come walking down the driveway. When the man disappeared at the street, Gray retuned his gaze to Tabby.
Time for round two?
One glance at her face said, no, that was not at all on the table. Even as a flush sat on her cheeks and her eyes still had that wide-pupil look, as her chest rose and fell in quick breaths, she was not close to being willing to cross that line again.
At least, not right then.
Sure enough, Tabby shook her head and slunk inside without a word, leaving Gray alone with mint still clinging to his lips.
* * * *
Tabby ran her fingers through her hair as she caught her reflection in the stainless-steel fridge. She’d always wanted to be a blonde.
It was a stupid thought, but that had never stopped her from having it.
Blondes always seemed more confident, more fun. Instead, Tabby had the color that her mother liked to call ‘mousey-brown’. Not chestnut, not auburn, not any of those sultry-sounding colors. It seemed like the rest of her life, where she didn’t fall on any side of the scale enough to be special.
Most of the women who left Gray’s place were blonde, especially the one repeat, Haylee. Clearly, he has a type.
She pulled her hand from her hair and tore her gaze from the reflection. Nope. She would not think about that walking, talking trap who lived next door. He was like a tar pit, and she’d already felt what it was like to be sucked in once after his stupid party a week before. Wild. Hot. Amazing.
She grabbed a paper towel and wiped down the counter, despite it already being clean.
She would avoid that tar pit, not even venturing near the edge anymore because she clearly couldn’t be trusted to make good choices. It was one of those times she had to admit that maybe there was something about instinct and pheromones and all that. It was the only way she could explain why she’d been stupid enough to kiss him. Whether she’d started it or him, she had damned well kissed him back. She had to chalk that all up to chemical nonsense.
His soft lips, his strong hands…. If the other man hadn’t walked by, just how far would she have let it go?
Well, maybe I’m a lot easier than I ever realized.
The idiot had ended the party after the hour like he’d promised and walked Becky over at the end. He’d stopped by a few times while Tabby had hidden inside like a chicken and pretended not to be home.
The plants out front needed trimming, but she’d avoided it to prevent the chance of running into him. In fact, she hadn’t drunk her tea as the sun rose for fear of witnessing another little show between him and his catch of the day.
She’d become a prisoner in her own home all because she couldn’t behave herself, because as it turned out, she was a horny teenager again.
At least it had been good for her work. She’d completed two projects that would have normally taken her an extra week, but since she couldn’t go outside or complete most of her chores, she’d had nothing else to focus on.
She worked for herself, running a website design business that had become lucrative enough to be able to support herself from. Though, she tended to be frugal, so she didn’t need much. She enjoyed her small place, her simple, paid-off car, her tight budget. People might laugh at her, but once she hit sixty-five with a very promising retirement plan, who would be laughing then?
Probably still them, but at least she knew she wouldn’t be starving.
Becky hadn’t come back for another night, though that wasn’t unusual. She worked a lot of hours, and while Tabby had offered to let her sister live there to save money, Becky had offered a quick no.
Not that Tabby was all that upset. She and her sister would kill each other if forced to actually live together again. It had been fine when Becky wa
s a minor, but now as an adult? Tabby would try to mother her, and Beck would fight against it. Better to have space of their own.
The lights flickered, and Tabby cast them a warning glare. She’d replaced the bulb with an LED one that should last for ten years, meaning there was no reason for them to go out just yet.
Again they flickered for a heartbeat before the entire place went dark. The beeping of her power supply backup said she still had internet and her laptop would have charge—important to make sure a power outage didn’t set her back with work—but everything else was off.
Tabby went to the front window, but the lights to the neighbors across the street were on. So, probably not a neighborhood outage.
She grabbed her cell from her back pocket and dialed the landlord, a sweet lady, Cindy, who was always quick to handle any issues.
After a quick conversation, Cindy agreed to send an electrician over. Tabby took that time to set up the LED candles she had on the counter, one in the bathroom—no one wanted to deal with trying to pee in total darkness—and a few in each room. It made the entire place look like some ethereal realm. If she wasn’t on edge from something being wrong, she might have enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere.
Sure enough, twenty minutes later a knock on her door had her ready to do away with the whole no-power thing. The novelty had worn off.
Tabby opened the door, expecting to find some old man with his pants hanging past his crack. What she wasn’t expecting was Gray standing there, especially because the dim light only made him even more attractive.
Well, hell.
The shock on Tabby’s face said, yeah, his aunt hadn’t told the girl who was coming to help with her power issue.
“Aunt Cindy called and said your power was out.”
She didn’t move from the doorway. “Aunt Cindy? Guess that explains how you got your place. And she called you? Thanks but no thanks. I’ll have a professional look at it.”
Gray lifted the toolbox in his hand. “Hate to break it to you, Tabby, but I am a professional. You know, some of us work for a living.” He volleyed the insult she’d thrown at him and enjoyed it far more than was probably appropriate.