My Enemy Next Door: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

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by Nicole London


  “This is a neighbor thing.” He stepped closer. “I live next door.”

  “Come again?” I swallowed. “What did you say?”

  “I’m your next-door neighbor,” he said, smirking. “Of course, I didn’t realize that was the case until just now.”

  “Would you like a cup of sugar or something?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I would like to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “I’m not letting you borrow my Sleep-Aid.”

  “You don’t need to,” he said. “I just need you to stop faking loud orgasms and screaming at the top of your lungs every night.”

  What? My face paled. “What are you talking about?”

  “Ohhhh, Jonathan. Fuck me, Andrew. Harder, Daddy.” He smirked, feeding me lines from this past weened. “Would you like me to recap the guys from last night?”

  OH. MY. GOD. “Oh my god …” I couldn’t help but repeat the words aloud.

  “That actually sounds far more realistic than any of the ‘Oh my gods’ I’ve heard from you this week.”

  “The walls in the office are supposed to be soundproof.”

  “They’re definitely not.” He stepped closer. “I’ve heard every moan you’ve made since I moved in.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” He smiled, closing the gap between us. “What the hell are you doing in there?”

  “I’m an escort.”

  “Bullshit.” He let out a low laugh. “What is it, Chassie?”

  “I narrate romance audiobooks for bestselling authors,” I said.

  “I see.” He looked impressed. “Is it a hobby, or something you make money doing?”

  “The latter,” I said. “I do it professionally, whenever I’m not working.”

  “So, always?”

  “It’s starting to seem that way.”

  “Because it is.”

  Silence.

  He leaned forward and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. “Would you like me to give you some real-world experience, so you can get better at reading your lines?”

  “No.” I tried not to stare too hard at his abs, tried to act like the man I’d been avoiding all week hadn’t been living right next door this entire time. “I would like you to go back to your apartment and let me forget that you’ve been living next door.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be possible anymore,” he said. “Is now a good time for us to finally talk?”

  “I’m not finished with my work on the case.”

  “I’m starting to believe you never will.” He looked behind me. “Is there anyone in there recording with you?”

  “Yes. Tons of men.”

  “Then tell them to come out here, so we can all get on the same page about the new quiet hours we’re about to set.”

  “Okay, fine. There’s no one else in there.”

  “I fucking know that, Chassie.” He suddenly cupped the back of my neck and pressed his mouth against mine.

  I shut my eyes as he used his other hand to pull me flush against him, as he splayed his hand against my back.

  His cock hardened against my thigh, and I slid my hand into the front of sweats to touch it.

  “Chassie…” He bit down on my bottom lip as I rubbed my hand up and down his thick length, as I moaned at how fucking huge he was.

  Kissing me harder, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and whispered against my mouth.

  “Your moans should sound just like this,” he said. “Like you want to fuck the man who’s owning you with just his mouth.”

  “Ahhh…” I moaned again as he slid his tongue against mine.

  I opened my eyes and saw him staring into mine, watching me every reaction to his slightest of moves. The knowing, cocky look in his eyes made me want to take off my panties right here, right now.

  “I’m faking it right now, too…” I couldn’t help but fuck this up.

  “Oh?” He let out low laugh and stopped kissing me. “Is that so?”

  Hell no.

  He didn’t bother waiting for me to lie. Instead, he pressed a few wet kisses against my neck and stepped back. “You should invite me inside so we can finish this.”

  “You mean, talk?”

  “You can say whatever you want when I’m inside of you.”

  “I can’t…” I swallowed, not ready to cross the line with him right now at all. “I have a deadline for the case we’re working on.”

  “You’ve blown through all of them already.” He looked me up and down. “I’ll come back another day, since I know you’ll want more…Goodnight, Chassie.”

  “Goodnight, Tyler.” I shut the door before I could say, “Yes, please come in and give me more.”

  Tyler

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  * * *

  The following afternoon

  An audiobook narrator.

  The late-night noises and moans made so much more sense now.

  I laughed as I pulled into the garage at Walsh & White, making a mental note to download some of Chassie’s latest audiobooks.

  Until I heard her giving me the real moans while she was under me, I could deal with the polished, fake ones for a while.

  Grabbing my briefcase, I took to the elevator to our shared floor and noticed that she still hadn’t arrived.

  Confused, I made my way down to the lobby.

  “Have you seen Miss Heritage today?” I stepped in front of the receptionist’s desk. “If so, where is she?”

  “She called a few hours ago,” she said, flipping through her post-it notes. “Something about her condo and not wanting anyone here to catch it what she has.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Ah, here it is.” She pulled up a pink post-is. “She’s super sick today.”

  I smiled. “Of course, she is.”

  Chassie

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  Me: Make up an excuse for me today at work. Tell them I went out of town to do some research.

  Sebastian: Why can’t you tell them yourself?

  Me: Because I just told you that TYLER HUDSON is my next-door neighbor, and he’s heard everything—everything, since the day he moved in. I need some time to think about this.

  Sebastian: Or, you could just fuck him. That’s what I would suggest from the way he looks at you …

  Sebastian: (You think he heard the scenes when you were doing deep-throat? LMFAO if so.)

  Me: I didn’t ask for your suggestions. (YES. Does this mean you’ll make up an excuse for me?)

  Sebastian: No, it means I’m going to see how long this plays out. You really do need to get fucked.

  Me: I hate you. Truly.

  Sebastian: I love you, too.

  Chassie

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  * * *

  A few days later

  “Um, can you tell me why we’re meeting in a random cafe instead of at your firm, Miss Heritage?” Sarah Sanchez, one of the witnesses, tilted her head to the side. “I really prefer to meet in your office. They serve great lunch.”

  “I brought you options in to-go boxes.” I pulled a few locked trays from my bag. “We’re here because the firm is being fumigated today.”

  “Oh.” She uncapped one of the fruit trays and popped a grape into her mouth. “Well, I’m ready to pick up where we left off whenever you are.”

  I pulled out my phone to begin recording our session, but it vibrated with a new text.

  Tyler.

  Tyler: Why aren’t you in the office today?

  Me: I’m still feeling really sick.

  Tyler: You look fine (& sexy as fuck) for a sick person.

  I immediately looked up and saw him walking toward my table.

  Without an invitation, he pulled out a chair and sat between Sarah and me.

  Sarah blushed at the sight of him, and I crossed my legs.

  “I’m sorry for whatev
er miscommunication there’s been today, Miss Sanchez.” He extended his hand to her. “There’s a town car outside that will take you to the firm, and a team member is waiting to work on your statement whenever you arrive.”

  “Oh my god, thank you!” She stood up from her chair. “I was looking forward to coming into the office all week. I love the custom coffee bar there.”

  She stole one last glance of him before walking away.

  “Look, Chassie,” he said. “I don’t have a problem with you trying—and failing to avoid me for as long as you like.”

  “If that’s the case, then why are you here?”

  “I want to talk about something that’s been bothering me.”

  “New York traffic?” I asked. “It can be hard to adjust to that so soon.”

  “I’m talking about us.” He didn’t banter with me at all. “I think we should at least be friends, and since you blocked me on Facebook years ago, I haven’t been able to reach out and tell you that.”

  “You could’ve tried Instagram or Twitter.”

  “You blocked me there, too.” He looked into my eyes. “I never felt like you were a real enemy to me.”

  “Well, that’s definitely one-sided.”

  “You’ve never wanted to be friends with me?”

  “Not really.”

  “What’s the reason?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “I don’t need one.”

  “Hmmm.” He placed his hand on my exposed thigh—right above where my dress stopped, and every nerve in my body suddenly buzzed in anticipation. The banter that was waiting to drop from my lips disappeared.

  “What are you doing, Tyler?” I whispered.

  “Nothing.” His eyes locked on mine, and I stared at him as he slowly moved his hand up my thigh, as he pretended as if the two of us were the only people in this room. As if there weren’t other customers on both sides of us.

  His hand reached the crotch of my panties, and he slid his fingers past the lace.

  “You sure you don’t want to be friends?” he asked, his voice low.

  “Yes.” I gripped the edge of the table as he slipped two fingers deep inside of me. “Yes, I…” My voice trailed off as he pushed them in a bit deeper, as he used his thumb to tease my swelling clit.

  My breathing slowed as he leaned forward and kissed my lips, all while keeping his slow, torturous rhythm on pace under the table.

  His eyes remained on mine as he started a new game of pleasure, as he pulled and pushed his fingers in and out of me in between my staggered breaths.

  “Use your hips to ride my hand,” he whispered. “Now.”

  I obliged, not caring who might ever see.

  Pushing my hips forward, I sucked in a breath as his fingers hit the right spot, as he kissed me to prevent me from moaning in public.

  Within moments, I came on his fingertips, gripping the table even harder as waves of pleasure wracked through my body.

  Smiling, he moved his hand from under my dress and stood to his feet.

  “I’ll see you whenever you get home,” he said, licking his fingers. “I’m looking forward to finishing this conversation and finally talking about us, whenever you decide to get over whatever incidents in the past are still bothering you.”

  Tyler

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  I waited outside her apartment door all night.

  She never came home.

  Tyler

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  * * *

  Two days later

  Chassie: Senior year, the first of many incidents that you pulled that year. That’s the one still bothers me, soooo guess we won’t be talking anytime soon.

  Me: I beg to differ.

  Me: You should try to finally come home this week so I can help you get over it.

  Chassie: No, I think I need time to get over it alone.

  Me: I think you’re being overly dramatic. There’s only one thing you need, and it started with a “D.”

  Me: In the meantime, I’ve listened to ten more of your audiobooks—in particular, the fucking scenes… I don’t think your orgasms with me will ever sound like any of the ones you’ve done, though. Are you coming home tonight?

  She didn’t answer me.

  She just re-sent me her nonsense about “the first incident you pulled senior year.”

  Chassie

  Senior Year Incident #1

  Cambridge, Massachusetts

  Tyler: Can you meet me at Houghton Library? It’s about our group project in Ethics. We need a better defense.

  I immediately jump up from my desk and wrap a scarf around my neck.

  Our project in Ethics is the biggest of my college career thus far.

  It’s sure to be published in The Harvard Law Review, and it has utterly consumed the past six weeks of our lives. So much so that we’ve scheduled a set block of hours every night to work on it.

  Unfortunately, the other two group members aren’t nearly as dedicated to the task as we are, so Tyler and I often end up alone.

  I need to tell him to take their names off our final paper.

  Fumbling around for my keys, I put on a coat and open my door.

  For some strange reason, the guy I’ve just started dating weeks ago is standing in the hallway with a pink balloon.

  What the hell?

  “Hey.” He smiles at me. “Are you going somewhere this late?”

  “Yeah. Emergency group project.”

  “Again?” He tilts his head to the side. “It’s not like you guys are curing cancer. You can take a break or cut some corners. It’s just college, you know?”

  I make a mental note to dump him sometime next week; Any guy who is willing to cut corners isn’t the guy for me.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “It’s our three week anniversary,” he says, extending the balloon towards me. “I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

  Yeah, I’m definitely dumping you. “Thank you so much.”

  “Would you like a ride?”

  “Sure.” I force a smile. “To Houghton Library.”

  He clasps my hand and leads me down the hall and into his oversized pickup truck.

  We ride in utter silence since I honestly can’t think of anything to say. That, and he’s not a guy for many words.

  I’ll never admit it, but whenever I’m out with other guys, I sometimes wish that Tyler is sitting across with me instead.

  When we make it to the library he presses a quick kiss on my lips and I rush inside.

  “Was that guy who just dropped you off your boyfriend?” Tyler crosses his arms the moment the door shuts behind me.

  “He was none of your business.” I toss my scarf onto a table. “What’s so important that I needed to race across campus at midnight to talk about it?”

  “I’ve never seen that guy on campus before,” he says, avoiding my question. “Are you dating him?”

  “Are you dating the redhead I’ve seen you with at Bluestone Cafe?”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Then dump her and date someone else.”

  Silence.

  “I don’t think anything is wrong with our defense,” I say, ignoring the sudden tension in the room. “The prosecution won’t be able to poke any holes in it.”

  “I disagree,” he says, stepping closer to me. “I think there are plenty of holes in our clients’ stories. We need to iron them out a bit more, figure out if they can coexist in better ways.”

  “Our clients don’t know what they want from each other,” I whisper, starting to feel like we’re talking about two separate things.

  “I think they do know what they want.” He’s so close to me that his forehead is pressed against mine. “I think they’re just scared to admit it.”

  Silence.

  His lips crash suddenly against mine, and I suck in a breath as he kisses me harder than I’ve ever been kisse
d in my life.

  Never wanting him to stop, I look into his eyes—begging him to continue, to give me more.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, and he lifts me up—placing me onto the closest desk.

  Our mouths establish a reckless rhythm, and he slides a hand under my coat.

  The moment his warm hand touches my skin, I moan and damn near beg him to take me back to his dorm room.

  Wait. What the hell are we doing? I pull back and push him away from me.

  “I need to go,” I say, standing to my feet. “I’ll uh, see you in Torts. Thank you for making me race over here for a conversation we could’ve had tomorrow.”

  “You’re insinuating that you want to pick up where we left off tomorrow?” he asks.

  “Not at all.” I lie. “I never want to think about how big of a mistake I was about to make again.”

  “In that case … ” He picks up a blue folder and hands it to me. “This is the real reason I wanted you to stop by.”

  I flip it over, and my blood instantly boils. This asshole is being named The Scholar of the Class.

  He’s beaten me at the highest level, made it more than final.

  Son of a bitch.

  “You wanted me to come here, so you could brag about one-upping me again?”

  “Yeah,” he says, smiling. Then he snatches the folder from me and opens the door, motioning for me to leave. “Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to say, Congratulations.”

  “I would never.” I move past him. “Fuck you, Tyler Hudson. For real this time. Fuck. You. ”

 

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