Page 1 of The Boy Next Door
Chapter One
Emma
I’m so close.
My toes curl and I sink my fingers deeper inside myself on a groan. I imagine Evan Drake has me pinned to the bed, his deep, green eyes set on mine while he fucks me like his life depends on it.
I circle my clit. I’m right there, right on the edge, but no matter what pace I chose, fast or slow, steady, I can’t seem to come.
I close my eyes, picturing Evan’s chest slicked with sweat, imaging how he’d hold my legs apart, watching himself drive into me as he takes my virginity. He’d tell me how long he’s wanted to fuck me. Maybe he’d tell me I had a pretty pussy—the need between my legs builds, blooming into an angry heat. The tension comes to a head—yes, he’ddefinitelytell me my pussy was pretty.
That’s it, my muscles clench, my thighs tremble and my back bows away from the bed as I fall hard and fast.
I bite my lip to keep myself from moaning too loudly. I don’t need the entire sorority house to hear the climax of my dirty fantasy. And then it’s over and here I lie, only partly satisfied because it’s my fingers—not Evan’s—inside me.
Sighing, I grab a towel from the side of the bed and clean up. Sometimes I feel guilty about masturbating to the fantasy of fucking my lifelong best friend, but really, I’m owed this. After all, I blame my pent up sexual frustration all on Evan. It’s his fault I never sailed past third base with Matt, my high school boyfriend.
Or any other guy for that matter.
Growing up, Evan Drake was my next door neighbor. He’s also a professional cock block.
The few times Matt and I were alone at my house, Evan managed to climb the tree beside my bedroom and bang on the window at the most inopportune times. Then he’d invite himself in and sandwich between me and Matt. Eventually Matt got fed up and said Evan and I had a thing for each other.
He was right about one thing. I had—have—it bad for Evan Drake.
I’ve fantasized about losing my virginity to him since my hormones kicked in in eighth grade. You’ve got to admit, it sounds like the beginning to a wonderful love story: the good girl falls for the boy next door. They end up going to college together and live Happily Ever After... The only problem ismyboy next door grew up to be a major player. A womanizer who goes for slutty redheads and girls who do anal—or so I’ve heard.
I’m a brunette, and if you haven’t guessed, I’m not into anal. I don’t think...
In high school, the girls who went out with Evan gossiped about how his kisses left them feeling drunk. Brenda Wright—the self-proclaimed slut of our high school—bragged that he fisted her hair when he fucked her. She said he was a Neanderthal. When I overheard her whispering about it in social studies my cheeks caught fire, tension built between my legs, and I hated her.
That summer I ended up on my porch, watching Evan mow the grass while I pretended to read. Sure, I’d flip the pages, but not one word sank in because I was too distracted by the sweat trickling down his defined, bare chest. I’m not going to lie, I liked it. I liked that I looked so innocent with the book in my hands while my mind was in the gutter. While my friends were daydreaming about rockstars and actors, I imagined what it would be like to sneak Evan in through my window and let him fist my hair. I told myself one day that would happen.
Guess what? It never did.
Yep, leave it to me, the typical good girl virgin to fall for my manwhore best friend. Years of pining with no end in sight. He’s thrown that friend card around enough times that I wouldn’t dare confess my undying love to him. Besides, I’ve seen what happens when friends date and then inevitably split—they end up hating each other. I don’t want to hate him.
Losing Evan is not a risk I’m willing to take, no matter the amount of hair pulling he may do. But that doesn’t mean a girl can’t have her fantasies.
I roll out of bed, get dressed in my Brew House T-shirt and short black skirt, then grab my phone to check my emails.
One new message titledLink to the charity auction.
The auction.I never in a million years thought I would be auctioning myself off, but the animal shelter my Beta Kappa Nu sisters and I volunteer at caught fire. Not only is the shelter in need of money, my sorority sister’s brother Sean suffered severe burns. His medical bills are outrageous.
We wanted to do something to help. When Jessie came up with the idea to do an online dating auction—orwhateverit is—I was lying on Evan’s bed, watching his muscles flex while he did pushups, so I was only half paying attention. I totally let her talk me into it. But, whatever, it’s for a good cause.
I follow the link inside the body of the email to the website, then scroll down the list of lot numbers until the cursor hovers over mine.Click.A buzz of excitement darts up my spine when my picture pops on screen. I almost don’t recognize myself in all that smoky-eyed makeup. Who knew little Emma Jacobs, Ms. Please-Everyone-Good-Girl, could look so sultry with half her face hidden behind a copy ofPride and Prejudice,a short skirt, and her legs crossed just so. I peruse the rest of the girls’ pictures. We all look like good girls gone rogue.
Beta Kappa Nu is known on campus as the good girl club. We aren’t the party girls. We make good grades and volunteer at the animal shelter. And we are all virgins. That’s no secret, which Jessie said should really help us rake in the money. After all, didn’t she say every guy dreams of turning a good girl bad?
Wait...how is one date going to turn a good girl bad?I scour over the auction site, my stomach slipping around itself every time I see the wordvirginin bold. Sure, it looks like a virgin auction, but, I mean, come on. There’s no way any of my sisters would give up the virginity for money.Shit. I hope they wouldn’t...
And there comes the hesitation, the doubt.
I have to stay focused on the fact that Jessie’s family needs help to cover the cost Sean’s medical bills. Without this auction, I have no idea what they’ll do. And what kind of person would I be if I was theonlygirl in the sorority who didn’t pitch in? I couldn’t do that to Jessie. We’re sisters and we stick together. Besides, it’s just one dumb date. My phone pings with a text from Evan:I’m outside.And then my anxiety explodes into a massive ball of fire and black smoke. If Evan knew about the auction, he would be pissed. He’s got that whole overprotective brother thing going on.
Ding.
