Boys Next Door by Sommer Marsden

wine to steel myself.
    I wasn’t usually so aggressive. But something about him made me beyond aggressive. Something that made me want to simply take what I wanted and it turned out I wanted him.
    So I’d take him.
    ‘Well, this is the downstairs bathroom. And this is my bedroom,’ he said.
    ‘Yours is on the first floor?’ I asked, walking in.
    The room sported a huge queen-sized bed covered with a striped comforter. One tall dresser – neat as a pin. An old-fashioned rag rug dominated the floor. A nightstand, an armchair, a small desk with a laptop.
    ‘How’s my décor?’ he asked, laughing.
    ‘Sorry.’ I had the decency to blush. ‘I just expected either really messy or super clinical and …’
    ‘And?’
    ‘I got nice and cosy.’
    There was a painting of a fall scene on the main wall plus a small window. Wall sconces set on low set the perfect cosy mood.
    ‘Nice and cosy is a good way to go.’
    ‘It is.’ I set the wine on his dresser and turned to him. He studied me with his grey eyes – it should have felt like a chilly gaze, I guess, but it warmed me in a way I hadn’t expected.
    ‘Why are you here?’ he asked me.
    ‘Why did you ask me?’
    ‘You intrigue me.’
    ‘Ditto,’ I said. I took his wine and he let me have it. I put it next to mine and ran my fingertips along the waistband of his sweater. I felt little teasing bits of warm skin but held myself back and didn’t touch him yet.
    He watched my hand gliding along his clothing and stepped against me. He was warm, impossibly warm, and a subtle kindness radiated off of him in waves. He was nice. He was good. He was hot. He was … here with me in this tiny room watching me intently.
    ‘Can I touch you?’ I asked him. I pressed my face to his chest smelling clean clothes and body heat. Kissing up his neck, I waited for his answer, hoping he’d give me the one I wanted.
    ‘Farrell, you can do anything you want.’
    I slipped my fingers – shaking just a bit, but oh, for the very best reasons – below his sweater and felt the muscles skip at my touch. Heat baked my palm and I put my lips to his throat and felt his pulse hammering.
    There was another sound, it ripped up out of him as if he hadn’t expected it. His strong arms yanked me in so suddenly I almost stumbled.
    His cock was hard and I relished the feel of him pressed to the front of me. I curled my fingers low on his belly, teasing below his sweater and his waistband, teasing us both so the tension and the want were clearly palpable.
    ‘Lower,’ he said, lips pressed to my ear. My hair swayed slightly with the force of his breath.
    I slipped my fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and found nothing underneath. ‘Commando, like me,’ I said, softly.
    ‘Now?’ He cupped my ass, thrusting so subtly against the front of me.
    A ribbon of arousal unfurled in my gut and curled up to my ribcage. I stood on tiptoe and kissed him, abusing his tongue with mine until he caught it gently between his teeth and nipped the tip. A sparkle of pain and a flood of heat in my pussy. I was giddy with it.
    ‘Yes, now,’ I whispered.
    Giving up pretence, I pushed my hand lower into his jeans and grasped his erection. Heated steel, smooth marble – all that flashed in my mind as I held him. I couldn’t shake the image of me mounting
him
. Me pushing his cock to my slick split and working my way down. My hands holding his hands down. My lips holding his prisoner. My breasts mashed to his chest.
    It all rolled through my head, my own personal porn movie, as I loosely ran a fist up and down his shaft so he hummed like a live wire.
    ‘Please don’t make me come in my pants like a teenager.’
    I snickered. ‘I don’t want that to happen. I want to have my way with you.’
    ‘Please do.’
    Those stormy eyes flashed as he took a step back and yanked his sweater over his head. His coal-coloured hair swayed and gently settled around his handsome face. ‘Let’s get that out of the