Page 33 of Sexy Bad Neighbor

“Yes, yes, yes.” My fingers fumble over the buttons on the coat, but I manage to get it over my shoulders, where it traps my arms for long moments, during which Paynt takes full advantage. Wrapping one arm around my waist, he bends me back while he leans forward and licks the exposed skin over the top of my camisole. The slight sense of helplessness ratchets my body temperature up several degrees until I’m breathing so heavily I’m afraid I sound like an asthmatic dog. Or a goat.

“Should we—should we go inside?” I manage to ask. “Spot.”

“Spot?”

“The goat.”

He stops teasing the tops of my breasts to glance over his shoulder at the animal, munching away at the grass at the edge of his deck.

“If you really want a threesome, I’d prefer another human.”

I giggle and flap my hand, attempting to smack him, but I’m still trapped by my own suit coat. “Don’t be crass. I’m suggesting we go inside so we don’t corrupt the goat.”

He laughs and finally tugs the coat all the way off my shoulders before dropping it onto the deck so he can sweep me into his arms. “You are the oddest woman I’ve ever met.”

“And you are the sexiest neighbor I’ve ever met.” As he carries me past the kitchen, I squeeze his bicep. “Stop. Here. I want to—you, me...”

He groans. “Are you seriously going to ask me to stop now?”

I shake my head and point at the counter. “There. I want—I want you to, uh...” I broker million-dollar real estate deals, speaking with utmost confidence when a simple signature is all that stands between me and my next bonus, and yet I cannot tell the man I’m about to sleep with that I want him to bang me on his kitchen counter.

“I gotcha,” he says wisely, and I see the wicked gleam in his eye as he carries me over and places my ass on the cool marble. Thank God the man can practically read my mind. “Hang on.”

He hurries away, around the corner, and reappears seconds later, holding two foil packets in his hand. “You forgot these when you ran away the other day.”

My laugh is nervous. “I had hoped to talk you into this then, actually.”

He steps up in front of me, drops the small squares onto the counter, and smooths his hands up my thighs. “You should’ve stuck around. I’m more than happy to see to any of your desires, sweetheart. So long as they involve the two of us getting naked, preferably together.”

“Well, you’re certainly halfway there.” I touch his chest, trail my fingers down to the waistband of his jeans. He grabs the hem of my camisole and flips it over my head.

“Let’s get you there, too.”

My bra is next, and my nipples pucker when they meet the cool air. He lifts his hands and cups them, skimming his thumbs over the sensitive nubs. I arch my back, craving more. I want more of his touch, more of him, more of everything having to do with Paynter. At the moment I cannot fathom why I keep running away from this man. Surely, I could have my career and him. They don’t need to interfere with each other. He’d already agreed not to tell James about us. So long as I keep them separate, I can certainly have my cake and eat it, too.

Or be eaten.

I gasp when he lifts me off the counter, efficiently disposing of both my skirt and my panties, and then places my bare backside on the chilly surface. I’m seated before him, utterly naked save my silver and black heels, with my legs spread wide and his thick erection only a foot or so away, and he’s staring at me like I’m that strawberry dish he helped me make the other day. Like he wants another strawgasm.

“Hold that pose,” he says, and then he sprints away and returns carrying one of the chairs from the dining room.

“What are you...?”

Placing the chair before me, he sits and shifts closer, his face between my legs, his hands stroking my inner thighs as he moves nearer to the prize.

“This. I like this,” I say, salivating as if he’s about to feed me, when in reality, I’m pretty sure his plan is exactly the opposite.

“Me too,” he says, and he kisses my pussy, featherlight but enough contact to cause me to jerk as if he’d electrocuted me. “It’s definitely one of my favorite pastimes.”

I lean back until my head rests against the wall, and I watch him through the valley between my breasts as he uses his fingers to spread my outer lips and give me a lick and then another. While I make noises that are wholly inappropriate for the kitchen, he thrusts his tongue into me, mimicking sex, and I reach down and cup the back of his head, holding him while I grind against his face, until my orgasm hits me so hard, the spasms cause me to slide off the counter. Luckily, he catches me and pulls me into his lap, where I straddle him while he’s sitting on the chair.

“Hey there.” He grins and half his face is glistening with my juices. It’s so incredibly hot, I press my palms to his cheeks and kiss him, soul deep, tasting myself on his tongue, lapping at him as if I might never get enough.

Breaking the kiss, I say, “Keep going. I need you. Inside me. Hurry.”

He snags one of the condoms from the counter and shifts me lower on his thighs so he can shove his jeans down just enough to sheath himself while I’m still sitting in his lap, my body tense, needy, desperate for him to fill me, give me what I want most.

Him.

---