Page 5 of Sexy Bad Neighbor

I glance down at my crotch. “Jesus, it’s been months. She sure as hell doesn’t have my balls stuffed in the bottom of her purse. I’m just not interested in being some woman’s sex toy. They have vibrators for a reason, you know. To spare us from having to deal with the fact they’re too uptight to get off.”

“That’s not true,” Garrett says. “I have no issues in that department.”

“I didn’t say I did.” I scowl at him. Although having sex with Bernadette had been like fucking a dead starfish. I got more mutual action from my hand.

My next-door neighbor wanders out into her yard. That distracts Garrett from my love life. Actually, she’s kind of hot from what I can see of her as she carries a laundry basket to the clothesline. Sweats hug her hips and make her legs go on forever, and her black hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail high on her head. The ratty University of Michigan sweatshirt bags around her waist, a couple sizes too big for her. She’s probably the housekeeper or nanny for some rich, professional family. Although I haven’t seen any kids around, so perhaps not. Still, the owner of a house like these in this neighborhood wouldn’t look like that, would she? And hanging her own laundry on the line, no less…

She bends over to place the basket on the ground, and I get a glimpse of her profile. Cute and comfortable. Now that’s what I’m talking about. That’s the type of woman I would want in my life if I wanted any one at all. Taking off my glasses, I buff them with my shirttail while we watch her methodically hanging shirts, pants, and skirts. Hold on. She’s not pulling any underwear out of the basket. I push the frames onto the bridge of my nose. I am such a pervert. In a minute she’ll notice us staring and call us out for being peeping toms. I should probably turn away instead of consider plausible explanations for the lack of delicates on her line.

“Wonder if your neighbor’s single.” Garrett leans over the wooden railing, trying to get a better view. “You could introduce yourself. Perhaps suggest Lazy Sundays or, even better, Naked Sundays. She looks like she has about as much interest in putting in an effort to meet people as you do.”

“Wouldn’t matter if she were single. I’m not interested in dating anyone, especially someone I live next door to.” I spread my feet and rest my elbows on the tigerwood beside him, my almost-forgotten beer between my hands. There’s something about her hourglass figure and graceful movements. “She reminds me of someone. One of those actresses Mom likes to watch.”

“Liz Taylor,” Garrett says. “That’s who. I don’t know how many times Mom made us watch Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I swear you’ll never catch me watching another one of those old movies.”

“Whatever you say.” I take a swig of my beer, making sure to mumble into the bottle, “We all know you had a crush on Greta Garbo.”

“And you had a thing for Liz,” he parries my blow with his own. “Just another reason you should get to know your new neighbor.”

The cute girl next door finishes hanging her wash and turns to head back in the house. Maybe it isn’t that she has that classic beauty that reminds me of a bygone era after all, though I have to admit she does look like Liz. No, the reason she looks familiar is because she’s the chick from the bar last night.

Chloe.

I roll my gaze to the sky and huff. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Garrett asks, preoccupied with my snobby new neighbor.

“I didn’t tell you earlier, but I met someone last night.”

“You met someone?” Why does he have to say it slowly and deliberately like he’s having a hard time fathoming that I can meet new people if I want to?

I can see the instant Chloe recognizes me. The steel in her spine as she jerks upright, her face pinched. I bet she’s trying to murder me with her gaze again. The washing basket lands sideways on the ground as she marches toward us, her arms crossed against her chest.

I breathe in through my nose, holding it for a second before expelling it through my mouth.

“Her.”

Garrett’s eyebrows couldn’t get any higher. The almost comical look of surprise on his face would be enough to make me laugh, if the woman glaring up at us didn’t shock it right off him.

“You.”

She’s shooting daggers at me, her tits rising and falling noticeably despite their ample covering. A nice set I might have imagined getting my mouth on before she tried to humiliate me in front of her friends last night. “You…”

“Asshole?” Garrett offers, trying to help her out.

“Yes. We could use that word to describe your friend.”

“He’s my brother, Garrett.” I bite my lip and smile at her. She’s fierce when she’s angry. Wonder if she gets this passionate about other areas of her life. I get a vivid image of her riding my cock, her head thrown back, those tits bouncing. Damn, if it doesn’t make me half hard. Jesus.

“He’s your brother?” Her voice goes up several octaves as she addresses Garrett. “Did he tell you what he did to me last night?”

Oh shit. Now Garrett’s going to think I slept with her.

“Did you enjoy your cowboy?” I ask.

Garrett’s expression is somewhere between a choked pigeon and a cat’s ass.

“I was mortified,” she snaps, and her cheeks go the same shade of red they were while the action had been taking place. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”

---