Page 8 of Man Cuffed
And I’m a hundred percent sure it won’t be the only thing getting banged. I’m so, so jealous. With a lonely sigh, I rise from my chair and head inside, taking care not to slam the screen door. As if those two can hear me.
Alas, the only sound I can hear in my living room is my own ragged pulse. I need a distraction. So I walk into my bedroom to put away some of the clothes Cassidy helped me carry in.
I’ve just put my nicest sweater on a hanger when I hear that growl again. And—good lord—I practically jump. Because it sounds so close. If I close my eyes, I can almost pretend he’s growling at me.
“Baby,” he grunts. “Yes.”
Instantly, my nipples are back to full power. Like headlights on the high-beam setting.
So I guess the walls of this apartment are paper thin. They’d have to be. For the next five minutes, I can hear every grunt and thrust and whimper they’re making next door.
And, wow. There are a lot of thrusts and whimpers. I’m rooted in place, a cashmere sweater in one hand, a hanger in the other, while a lucky woman on the other side of the door makes sounds like a hyena in heat.
I want to be a hyena in heat.
When she quiets down, I assume it’s over. I take a steadying breath and hang the sweater in the closet with a long exhalation.
That’s when I hear the finale begin. First a low, masculine groan. And then another. There’s a thump—the sound of a piece of furniture hitting the wall. It repeats and grows faster. I stop breathing as it builds to a crescendo. My eyes fall closed and my mouth goes dry as he roars his approval.
And then silence.
I force myself to take a breath. With a shaky hand, I pick up my phone to try to distract myself, or at least remember my own name.
Hey, how’s the new place?my sister has texted.
It’s breathtaking, I reply immediately.
* * *
Later that week,I finish unpacking all my possessions and arranging them in my new apartment. And I’ve made some strides in decorating. The sofa slipcover is done. But I need better lamps, and those aren’t cheap. So I’ve strung up some fairy lights in the meantime. Instant ambiance!
I’ve moved the furniture around a few times looking for the best flow. Besides, there’s feng shui to consider. If you want to prosper in a new home, you can’t just ignore feng shui.
For example, I know I need to have something living and green in my space with me. Wherever I place that living, growing thing will essentially bring more life into that area. So, if I need more money, I should put a houseplant in the money corner. If I need more peace, I should put a potted cactus in the peace corner. And if I need a good banging like I’ve heard at my next-door neighbor’sthree days this week, I should just ditch the plant and go knock on his door.
But no. I am more sensible than that. He could turn me down, and then I’d have to pack up everything and move, just to avoid the humiliation.
Also? I don’t even know if he’s attractive because I haven’t seen his face.
Butsomeonefinds the man attractive. Moaning, biting, screamingly attractive. Last night I swear the wall was in danger of caving in. That’s how hard the headboard shook.There goes my security deposit, I thought.
Why not mewas my next thought.
Since I can’t have sexual satisfaction right now, I go to the garden store instead. I gaze at the outdoor furniture I can’t afford and then buy a bushy plant.
It’s only when I get home that I realize how big the plant is. I can barely hold onto it. It’s taking all my strength—carefully cultivated over the years by pursuing camera-ready muscles—just to wrestle the plant into the lobby. I poke the elevator button with my elbow, and I am immediately rewarded by the doors opening.
Hallelujah.
“Hey, hold that?” a deep voice says before the doors close.
“Well…” If I had my hands free, I’d be happy to. But all I can manage is to balance on one foot and thrust the other one out to stop the halt of the elevator doors.
“Ouch! Fuck,” rumbles that voice as my foot collides with something hard.
I experience a strange little shimmy in my chest before it dawns on me that I just hurt someone. “Sorry! I’m trying. Couldn’t see you.”
My arms are starting to shake. And the plant’s green fronds are so dense that I can’t see a thing in front of me. Basically, I’ve become a plant with feet.
