Page 51 of Crave Thy Neighbor

She’s independent and hates relying on anyone else.

It’s one of the things I like about her.

The apartment is quiet, so I hear the soft click of the door across the hall when it’s opened.

Oh, thank god.

As soon as I hear the bathroom door closing, I make my move.

I toss my blanket off, swing out of my bed, and rush across the hall into the darkened room. I don’t bother turning on the light. There’s no need with the soft glow of the moon pouring in through the window.

I notice the two open boxes sitting in the corner alongside a suitcase, and a frown tugs at my lips.

When I walked into her apartment earlier, I wasn’t ready for it to be so bare. She’s only here for a couple of months, but surely she’s not expecting to live out of boxes that entire time?

Whatever. Not my problem.

With a shake of my head, I go to the bookshelf full of my favorites and retrieve a copy ofThe Hobbit. It’s a long read, but an easy one to get sucked into…I hope.

In case it doesn’t work, I grab two other books.

As quietly as I can, I make my way out of the room, pulling her door back to where it was so she doesn’t know I was ever in here. The last thing I need is for her to think I’m some creeper riffling through her panties.

The bathroom door is pulled open and shut and then a tiny body is running into me.

Maya screams.

The next thing I know, my books are on the floor and she’s pressed against the wall with my hand over her mouth.

And I fucking feel her everywhere.

I’m trying hard as hell to not react to the way her breasts keep brushing against my naked chest…or how I can feel her hardened nipples through her shirt.

My other hand is holding on to her waist, my fingers tightly gripping on. My leg is pressed between her thighs, and it’s painfully obvious she’s not wearing any pants.

Oh god. How the fuck did we end up like this?

She swallows against me, and the recognition slowly enters her wild eyes. Only then do I remove my hand.

“Holy fuck,” she mutters, gulping in air. “I totally forgot you live here too.”

I chuckle. “It’s my apartment.”

“Right, right.” She gulps. “Right.”

“You okay?” I ask in a whisper as I trace my thumb over her soft cheek.

I should stop touching her, but I can’t seem to make myself do it.

She nods. “I think so.” Then she lets out a laugh that’s not full of much humor. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I track the movement with my eyes. “What were you doing in my room?”

I read every word that comes out of her mouth since I’m still staring at her lips.

I need tostopstaring at her lips.

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