Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Pavel Korolenko has been my closest friend for a long time. Not that that’s saying much. A man like me does better without friends. I do better as a lone wolf …
Which is why my nonstop thinking about my next-door neighbor is such a problem. Ever since yesterday, my body has burned for her. Wildfire scorching through me and razing my caution to the ground.
“Just stay hidden,” he says. “Please—I can’t protect you otherwise.”
“Our so-called allies might’ve turned their backs on me, Pash,” I snarl. “But do you really think I’ve fallen so far I need protection?”
“You’re right,” he says. “Sorry.”
Fear spikes in his voice. This is the sort of man I am. A beast who scares even my closest friends. I think about apologizing then decide against it. I’ve never been the type.
“Any news?” I grunt.
“The same. They’re looking … but they’ve got no idea where you are. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Hmm.”
“How are you spending your days?”
Tricky question. Since coming into hiding, I’ve been scouring the internet for weak points in the operation. Reaching out to contacts I trust and who wouldn’t dare to betray me.
But yesterday was a different story. Rose wouldn’t leave my head. Her curves made a home there. Then my body thrummed and my thick steel became rock-solid. Tension that wouldn’t stop until I gripped my base and rubbed so furiously a hot stream of cum blew.
I focus. Try to, anyway.
“Lifting weights mostly,” I lie. No need to share information recklessly.
I hang up. Pace my bedroom. I can hear her in her backyard even through the closed window. She’s been out there for hours, grunting, moaning.
No—not moaning. Fucking hell.
But whatever she’s doing, it’s easy for my obsession to turn her labored sounds into pleasure-laced shudders. I press my hand to the front of my pants. Bite down, try to stop this impossible lust.
Easy boy.
I can’t take it anymore.
Going to the window, I peel back the curtain. She’s in the yard, shovel in hand, sweat making her baggy T-shirt stick to her in all the right places. Her peaks tease through the material.
Fuck.
Is she kidding me?
She’s not wearing a bra.
I can see her nipples. They look thick and ready for my attention. My teeth chatter as I think about softly nibbling them, urging lust to swell inside of her just like it expands in my balls. My shaft aches as release rushes up and down. Precum leaks unstoppably out of my end.
Before Rose, I didn’t know I had this much precum inside me.
It’s a warm day, especially for the East Coast. Summer at its height. And she’s out there working herself silly, grunting with determination.
I should leave her be. I’ve already risked too much by intervening with that developer jerk. My condolences. That’s what he said. She’s lost someone. Her mom, I’m pretty sure. The developer threw it in her face.
Stop.
I don’t stop.
This is a mistake.
I make it anyway.
Through my house, out into my yard, I lean against the chain-link fence and look over at her flawless form. She’s wearing shorts again. A lighter material this time, the kind that flutters around her thickness and makes me think of slipping my hand between her thighs.
How wet would she be? Would I have to tease her at first, softly caress her lips, until she starts dripping? Or would she be a fucking fountain for me?
I look across her yard, at the other yard. Nobody there. Nobody watching from the window either. If somebody else sees her without a bra on …
She tugs on the shovel, falls back. Gasps.
I leap over the chain-link fence in one efficient bound. She turns, eyebrows shooting up. Cute mouth forming an ‘O’ of shock made for kissing and making my thick pole ache.
“What are you doing?” she asks, standing …
Brushing dirt from her shirt. When she does it, her hands flatten against her curvaceous tits. My cock pushes against my jeans. The zipper strains. An image of her breasts slick with her spit punches into me, then my cock slipping between them …
“Helping,” I grunt, picking up the shovel. “What’re you digging for?”
“Mom always wanted a pool. But she never had the time.”
I grit my teeth. Something strange, alien even, punches into me – emotion? “I’m sorry,” I mutter. “From what that jerk said yesterday, I’m assuming she passed?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs. “This was her final wish. Make this house something to be proud of.”
“She’d be proud of you, Rose.”
She walks to the edge of the small pit. Looks at me in shock as I heave out a giant mound of summer-hard dirt and toss it to the edge. “You make that look easy, Lex.”
“I like working with my hands.”
And this isn’t the first hole I’ve dug.
“I’ve only got one shovel,” she says.
“Then you better get us some lemonade and take a seat. I’m not going to watch you work yourself ragged.”