Not My Neighbor: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  “Krystal Carter,” I announce, blushing again. Feeling stupid for not introducing myself properly, watching my tiny hand reach out for his.

  As my hand disappears in his I feel something deep inside me shift.

  “Pleased to meet you,” I wheeze, feeling my legs press together as I stifle a moan.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” he says with such intensity as he grips my hand a little firmer that I gasp.

  “Mine,” he repeats knowingly before our hands separate. A loss I feel instantly, craving more of his touch already.

  I realize in a second he could tell me to do anything right now and I’d obey him. I’d bend over backward if I thought it would please him.

  If I could bend over backward.

  He could bend me—

  “I guess we should get your bags,” I finally manage, pushing aside my erotic thoughts and working overtime to at least try not to sound like a blushing schoolgirl.

  I’m twenty. I can adult as much as the next grownup.

  Okay, maybe not with this guy. But I need to hold my shit together if this is gonna work.

  “Already sent on,” he tells me swiftly, making it my turn to mirror his puzzled look.

  “Well, let’s get you home then,” I shiver nervously, moving closer towards him with no idea why.

  He casually takes my trembling hand in his again and before bowing slightly to press his lips to it, he tells me that’s the best idea he’s heard all day.

  Chapter Two

  Blake

  I’m supposed to be on a flight of my own, heading to the Hamptons for some well-earned rest and to arrange some finances.

  I still have a while before boarding, but with my luggage and ticket already checked in I decide it can wait.

  It can all wait. Forever now.

  I just happen to be passing the international arrivals, almost lost in admiring the strange looking new airport expansion when I see her.

  There’s nobody else around, save for a cleaner heading in the opposite direction.

  A perfect girl. The perfect girl, appearing like magic right in front of my eyes.

  All just for me.

  She’s top priority from now on. Whoever she is.

  Seeing her for the first time from behind, I feel spoiled and I immediately want to return the favor.

  Nothing happens by accident, and I’m not walking away from this once in a lifetime chance. I never notice girls or women either, so my heart’s in my throat when I spot her.

  For twenty years I’ve looked at finance, my own success, and maybe the odd gray hair coming through, but I’m not shying away from this.

  Not turning my back when I can see, I can just tell she’s needing what I want to give her as bad as I want to give it to her so suddenly.

  Like, right. Fucking. Now.

  I enjoy a few moments at least to watch her without her noticing me.

  Her perfect, heart shaped ass filling denim as much as my shifting dick suddenly wants to fill her.

  Hips that are begging for gripping, made for holding, and a raised ponytail of soft blond hair that shows her smooth soft neck.

  A neck I focus on as I swallow hard, wanting this moment to last a while longer but knowing I’m already hungry to see her from the front.

  Imagining all of her softness writhing over all of my hardness.

  That smooth neck rolling as her hair bobs in time with her bouncing on my fat cock.

  I take a second to adjust my arousal while nobody’s looking but still feel the heaviness of my pulsing manhood upfront.

  Straining against the tailored fabric like never before.

  Then again, I wouldn’t care if she did see. I could care less if the whole world can see what she’s doing to me.

  I can’t just stand here though. As much as I could take in this view all day I know it’s only a matter of time before she leaves or worse meets whoever it looks like she’s waiting for.

  I move as close as I dare but nowhere near as close as I want before saying something.

  It’s the first thing that pops into my head, but it doesn’t matter. She slowly turns and I can see her much better for the first time.

  Her clear blue eyes widen a little and move up to meet mine.

  She’s small, but everything and everyone is when you’re six-five.

  Her blond hair has some strands that have come loose from her ponytail and they shift as she turns.

  Her white sweater and jeans look perfect on her, and she fills all of it so well I can’t help but scan her from head to toe, easily marking my favorite spots.

  Committing them to memory.

  Her thick nipples look pleased to see me, or is it the A/C in the airport?

  Nah. That’s a happy chest.

  Pleased to meet you too.

  But her eyes betray her, moving to my thick and still growing hardness while the blue fills a little more. The blackness of her pupils dilating, broadcasting her own animal instincts.

  Her own unconscious need.

  She seems flushed with embarrassment, a natural shyness I can spot. My own voice grows deeper and thicker as a result.

  I’m used to taking control of any situation, and whoever she is, I’m more than determined to take control of her situation.

  A situation I’m determined to see involving her and me, alone.

  She is waiting for someone though, and her round face brightens once something in her seems to click.

  She introduces herself.

  Krystal. Now I have a name for this feeling.

  Strange for a shy girl to introduce herself straight away, but I oblige her with the same, taking her hand in mine.

  The instant chemistry of our touch is undeniable. We both seem to want to hang on but politeness, social standards.

  As much as I’d like I can’t just grab hold of her and never let go.

  I can’t just throw her over my shoulder and carry her off into the sunset.

  This is the 21st Century.

  I’d sure as hell remember if I’d met her before, but when she apologizes for being late… having come to pick me up and take me home, I almost lose it.

  She thinks I’m someone else. Someone she’s never met.

  Now, this is the part where I’d normally be the first to admit she’s mistaken me for somebody else.

  Happens sometimes.

  But today, with it being her and me. And her thinking she has to take me home?

  Well, that’s like Santa dropping by at Easter with your present, telling you not to open it until December with a wink.

  Jackpot.

  I’ll play along just until I find out more about her. Get to know her some. Definitely find out where her home is, and her phone number if nothing else.

  I’ll come clean, but just not right now.

  Not yet.

  My luggage story isn’t a total lie. I don’t have it with me, and I don’t want to risk anything that’s gonna waste any more time in her taking me home. Wherever that is.

  “Dad said you’d be hard to miss,” she smiles sheepishly after I kiss her hand, looking up at me as we make our way towards an exit.

  “Your dad?” I ask, almost sounding annoyed.

  Anyone else getting in between me and her is not what I want to be hearing about right now, but at the same time, I’m curious to learn more about exactly who it is I’m supposed to be.

  “He told me your name, but to be honest I couldn’t hear him too well on the phone. But here you are,” she exclaims, her eyes shining with pleasure. Overlooking my brief chagrin.

  “Here I am.” I echo back to her, starting to enjoy the near painful sensation of my cock straining in my pants with each step as I look down at her.

  Her own chest is still proud and nipples stiff like bullets.

  I pass the name test because she doesn’t know who she’s supposed to be picking up. But what if the actual guy’s already on his way home?

  She did mention being late.

&n
bsp; Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

  Something in her eyes tells me she wouldn’t be too disappointed if I’m unmasked as somebody else.

  That touch. I’m already craving her hand again. And plenty more of her body with my mouth on it.

  Why kiss her hand?

  Because it was the closest thing I could think of to do in public compared to what I really want to do to her.

  It’s instinct for me to want to kiss her, to touch her.

  Moving from International arrivals into the main area of the airport, I’m suddenly aware of just how much I want her all to myself, even elbowing some people out of the way as they get too close to her for my liking.

  Wanting to put my arm around her but settling for a hand on the small of her back, I guide her through the crowd until we’re outside.

  I feel her body shiver under my hand and stepping out into the warmth of a perfect sunny day, I know her shivers and stiff chest have nothing to do with the temperature.

  “I parked over here,” she volunteers, moving towards a pay station, looking down at the single folded note, the parking pass, she’s pulled from her jeans pocket.

  “I got that,” I tell her, moving quickly to find my platinum credit card and swipe it after feeling her hand again as I lift the parking pass from her fingers.

  She opens her mouth to protest, but I can see it doesn’t take too much convincing.

  “Thanks, but you didn’t have to,” she murmurs once I’ve paid.

  “The least I could do. I mean, you coming all this way to pick me up,” I smile back at her.

  “At least it’s not far for me to get home once I drop you off,” she says with a chuckle, but I stay silent.

  I have no idea what that means but I’m dying to find out.

  Chapter Three

  Krystal

  Blake Mason is huge.

  Standing near him I feel tiny for the first time in my life.

  Petite almost.

  I can’t believe my dad was so offhand, only describing him as tall, dark, and handsome.

  The man’s a freaking god.

  He’s gentle with me though, and touching his hand is like a warm buzz that makes its way through every pleasure center in my body and brain.

  I figure he must be eager to get home though. He even shoves some people out of the way as we head back to my dad’s car.

  His hand on my back feels so good I hope he can’t hear my little mews and purrs as he moves us through the crowd.

  I know someplace else he could put that hand to work...

  Jeez! What the hell is wrong with me?

  I’ve known Blake Mason for all of three minutes and now I’m some sort of deviant in my mind wherever he’s concerned.

  I wonder if he has that effect on most girls.

  Definitely. No doubt. I mean, look at the guy. A perfectly natural response given the situation.

  He insists on paying for parking, which saves me a fair portion of my money but I wonder if my dad will ask him about it.

  We reach my dad’s car, which I thought was a fairly big vehicle until Blake folds himself into the front passenger seat.

  “It’s not too far,” I remark, noting his uneasy smile as he checks himself to make sure he’s buckled in.

  “I do have to stop for—” I start to say, but not wanting him to think I’m angling for him to pay for gas as well as parking I stop myself.

  Pulling out from the lot, I catch his eyes in the rearview.

  He’s all attention, waiting for me to finish what I was gonna say.

  “Stop where?” he asks, opening his expression wide like I might be taking us someplace exotic.

  I wish.

  “Just for gas is all,” I almost whisper, cringing in my seat as he gives a knowing look.

  The ‘I got that too’ look that people who pay for everyone’s way must surely make.

  I want to argue to the point, but figure I’ll just make sure I pay for it when I get it.

  As if on cue the car sounds its warning that the gas tank is dangerously low.

  “So, the magazine business?” I hear myself asking him, trying to change the subject but only cringing internally again.

  My dad’s probably already told him that I studied design and majored in photography.

  The last two months saw me start an internship at a small paper, right after college, but that was more like slave labor than an actual job.

  I don’t want it to sound like I’m expecting any favors or a job offer just because he’s our neighbor.

  I steal a glance over at Blake, who’s creased a smile and is nodding his head in silence.

  Idiot! Too soon. Too soon.

  “I guess your dad’s told you a lot about me, huh?” he asks in reply.

  Not dismissing my question, but he seems to have a lot of his own too.

  “Oh, not really. I’ve been away at college and an internship,” I reply.

  “But I guess you two being neighbors, you would’ve talked plenty,” I add, feeling it sinking in that Blake is my newest neighbor too. Not just my dad’s.

  “Neighbors?” Blake asks and then clears his throat, running his palms flat down his thighs as he shifts in his seat.

  “I mean, yeah. We talk, but uh. Your dad, he kinda likes to keep to himself,” he says absently, looking away and out the window.

  This gives me another chance to look him over, adjusting the mirror so I can see him better as I drive.

  Dad’s pretty outgoing though. He’d talk the leg off a chair given half the chance.

  Maybe Blake’s so busy he hardly ever sees him?

  “That’s weird because dad’s away so much too.” I half-laugh. Accidentally snorting and flushing beet red which makes Blake smile.

  “Weird?” he asks, again with the odd questions.

  “Yeah. I mean, you’re back from London and he’s off to Houston for god knows how long. Its good timing is all, for your fish.” I muse aloud.

  “Fish…” Blake says to himself, looking out the window for a second time.

  The gas warning chimes again, so I use it as the perfect excuse to pull into the first gas station I see.

  Blake’s already undoing his seatbelt before I even stop, heaving himself out of the car and making his way to the pump before I can even open my door.

  I want to get out, to tell him I’ll pay. But the finest view of the man’s profile and ass is in my side mirror.

  I only become aware of my mouth hanging open once I hear him closing the gas cap and shooting me a smile through the rear window.

  It puts me off making sure I give him the money and before I know it, he’s making his way in to pay for the gas as well.

  I’ll just give him the money. All of it. I can’t have him pay for stuff like this.

  Plus, I have no idea what arrangements he made with my dad.

  Watching Blake walk back to the car I can’t help but stare again. The way his whole body moves.

  Each muscle flexing then relaxing in turn. The perfect machine that is the human body.

  His body anyway. Mine? Not so much so.

  “Here,” I tell him firmly, not even waiting until he’s back in the car before trying to thrust the money into his huge hand.

  “I can’t have you paying for parking and gas,” I protest but he politely ignores the money. Choosing instead to work on folding himself back into the car before pulling the door shut with one finger.

  I feel stupid holding the money out now than the idea of him paying.

  Finally, he puts me out of my misery, closing his hand over mine and gently pushing it back towards me.

  “It’s fine, Krystal. Really,” he says, that hand brushing my chest by accident and making me gasp loudly as his eyes narrow some.

  A low sound from his body runs through me again until the car behind us honks breaking the moment.

  He laughs to himself and I start the car, even squealing the tires as I take off, totally flustered.


  “You’ve filled me up,” I remark, looking down at the gas gauge.

  “Anytime,” he says in the deepest, sexiest voice I’ve ever heard, making me shiver again.

  Before I look over at him again, I can feel his eyes boring into me, focusing on my chest then moving down my body.

  Looking at someone in the car with you is no big deal, I mean we’re inches apart really.

  But it’s the type of look he’s broadcasting. And not ashamed to show it.

  I avoid his eyes for now because I need to focus on driving, but I feel my body squirm into my seat, trying not to make another weird noise as I feel something I’m sure I’ve never felt before inside me.

  Something I know that’s directly linked to one Blake Mason. Our new neighbor.

  Oh god. How is this gonna work? How is my life gonna continue with this man living only feet away from our house?

  “So it’s just you and your dad?” Blake half asks, half tells me, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

  I nod eagerly, shaking my head up and down as I watch the empty road ahead.

  “Boyfriend?” he asks point-blank and I figure he means my dad, which makes me giggle.

  There’s another long silence and I feel Blake’s eyes on me the whole time.

  He’s waiting for an answer.

  “I meant you, Krystal,” he finally says, trying to sound relaxed but there’s an edge to his question.

  “Me? Oh god no.” I almost shout I say it so loud, laughing out of nerves more than anything else.

  Blake seems to approve, relaxing as much as he can in the small space back into his seat.

  I stop my chuckling though, suddenly wondering why he’d even ask, let alone look so smug once I tell him no.

  I guess like most people he sees someone like me and just has to know he’s right in his own mind.

  That there’s no way anyone could possibly be interested in someone like me.

  “And you?” I ask with an accusing tone, feeling hurt by his question and wanting a little revenge.

  “No,” he answers quickly and softly. “There’s nobody.”

  I should feel glad, but it’s the way he says it that shifts my mood instantly.

  “But, family?” I ask him, probing deeper only because I can’t believe someone as remarkable as Blake Mason is alone in this world.