Boy Next Door (Parkside Avenue Book #2) (8 page)

BOOK: Boy Next Door (Parkside Avenue Book #2)
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When we arrived back at Cora’s
house, I carried her carefully inside and set her down in the hallway.

“Will you be okay now?” I asked, dropping
her purse onto the table.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, moving
away from my supportive arms and stumbling once more.

I caught her around the waist. “Maybe
I’d better see you to your room.”

She looked at the stairs and
blinked. I followed her thought process. She’d never make it up the stairs
alone. Before she could protest, I scooped her into my arms and carried her up
to the bedroom, lowering her feet gently onto the bedside rug. Her arms twisted
behind her back, attempting to find the zip of her dress, and I bit back a
chuckle as she contorted like Mr Elastic Man. “Here. Let me.”

Without protest, she allowed me
to slide down the zip and let the dress drop to her ankles, revealing a black
push-up bra and matching panties, which fuelled my now pulsating hard-on. I had
to dig deep into my reserve to resist the urge to assist her off with the sexy
little two-piece too. Since meeting Cora, I’d been in a constant state of sexual
frustration, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to strip her fully
naked and fuck her ‘til the sun came up, but now wasn’t the time. I eased her
under the covers and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

Her lips parted and a word that
was barely a whisper escaped. “Stay.”

What was that? I wasn’t sure I’d heard
her correctly. The permanent horn taking up residence in my groin could be
causing me to hear what I wanted to hear. I squatted down to level my head with
hers. “Did you say something?”

Her eyes flickered open. “Stay,”
she repeated.

Yep, I’d definitely heard her
right, and needing no further invitation, I stripped off and slipped under the
sheet, fully expecting her to roll over and plant me with the slap I’d been expecting,
because she hadn’t actually meant for me to join her in the bed. But hey,
nothing ventured, nothing gained. I lay on my side, wondering what to do next,
when she surprised me by reaching around to pull my arm over her body, and
wriggling into me. I inched closer until we were spooning with my bulging
erection nestled exactly where I wanted it, between her ass cheeks. She smelled
of heady perfume and stale wine, a pungent mixture that invaded my nostrils and
made my temples throb, but the pain was nothing in comparison to the agony of
being so close to something so unavailable.

I waited until I was certain she
was asleep, before I snuck to the en suite and jacked one off. I knew I
shouldn’t have, but hell, I’m a red-blooded man, and if I hadn’t done it, my
load would have blown, in the middle of the night, all over her peachy little ass.
When I returned, Cora rolled over and nestled into my chest. My heart was
beating so loudly I thought she would wake, but instead, her breathing slowed
and her body melted into mine.

I could get used to this
.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

When I awoke, nine hours later, Cora
was in the same position, with her face sporting a crooked smile and her hand wrapped
around my morning glory. I considered rousing her, to ask her to move it, but
it felt so good I was already on the verge of exploding. My yawning caused her
eyelids to flutter open, and recollection startled her upright, clutching the
sheet to her chest. “Johnny? No. Please say … no.”

My face creased to a smile. “No.”

“Then … Why are you in my bed?”

“Because it’s where you wanted
me.”

“I did?” She looked puzzled.

“Yeah.” I laughed. “You did.”

“Oh my God, what have I done?”

“You got a bit tipsy, that’s
all.”

“And invited you into my bed?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes hardened. “You should have
said no.”

“I don’t like to disappoint.”

She lifted the sheet, looked down
at her body, and relaxed with relief. “And then what did I do?”

“You fell asleep.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, you snored a little.”

“I don’t snore.”

“It was cute.”

She bit her lip nervously, giving
her an innocent air. “But my hand was on your … You know.”

I loved how I was making her
uncomfortable. I’d half expected her to scream at me to get out, but she
hadn’t. She liked me. I knew it. “Yeah, baby. I didn’t mind. In fact, I enjoyed
it. You can put it back, if you like.”

Her eyes closed and she let go of
a sigh. “What happened last night?”

“Your date didn’t go too well. I
gave you a ride home.”

Her eyes flickered along with her
thought process. “You’d better go.”

“If that’s what you want.” It
wasn’t what I wanted. I was exactly where I wanted to be … almost. I’d stupidly
thought that maybe our night together would bring us closer. Instead, she was
slinging me out without so much as a thank-you. If I’d been kicked in the
stomach, I couldn’t have felt sicker.

She paused just long enough to
offer me a glimmer of hope. “It is.”

I couldn’t leave without trying
to hold on to the ground I’d gained. “All right. On one condition. Come out
with me today.”

“I can’t.”

“Do you have plans?”

“No.”

“Then why not?”

She gripped the sheet tighter. “I
can’t do this.”

“You were doing fine a minute
ago.”

“Johnny, please. I’m embarrassed
enough as it is.”

“What’s to be embarrassed about?”
I laid a hand on her Egyptian cotton covered knee. Her breath caught.

“Listen, Johnny, I like you.
You’ve been good to me. I thank you for bringing me home, but I can’t go out
with you.”

“I need a reason.”

She stared at my hand, and her
voiced wavered. “I-I just can’t.”

“I thought you’d started dating
again.”

“That wasn’t my idea.” Her
fingers rubbed across her forehead and her eyes squeezed shut for a second.

“But you went anyway, and you owe
me one for rescuing you last night.”

Her mouth opened in silent
protest. Closed. And opened again. “Fine. You can take me out. Once. But that’s
it, okay?”

A foot in the door was all I
needed. I squeezed her knee playfully and climbed out of bed. “Morning or
afternoon?” I asked, retrieving my pants from the floor and stepping into them.

She tried not to watch, but she
did. “Um, oh, um …” She rubbed her brow again. “If I can rid myself of this
headache, I still intend to take my morning run.”

“Okay,” I said, pulling on my
shirt. “I’ll come round at two. No need to change out of the Lycra.”

I turned from Cora’s puzzled
expression and jogged down the stairs, just as Nessie entered the front door. I
winked at her, in passing.

“What the fuck …?” she shouted,
staring at my open shirt. “Mum? Mum?”

I glanced back to witness her
taking the stairs at a pace, wondering how Cora was going to explain my unkempt
presence, upstairs, at seven o’clock in the morning.

***

Back at Pappa’s, the air was
eerily quiet, with only the faint rumble of snoring filtering through Pappa’s
door. No sound emitted from Kendrick’s room. Most likely the result of another
late night making him dead to the world.

I tried to keep the noise down as
I took a welcome shower, but almost cursed out loud when I saw the empty
shampoo bottle. Paps liked to have a long soak his en suite, so I knew it had
to be Kendrick who had nicked the last of it, and we were out of shower gel too.
Fucking typical. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to live with my
brother’s inconsiderate ways. With no option left, I grabbed the only thing available
and washed myself with conditioner. Then with coconut wafting in the air, I
changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt retrieved from the floor—I’d
only worn it for a day and it didn’t smell overly ripe.

Suitably refreshed, I jogged
downstairs to kick-start the coffee machine. Not that I needed coffee. My
energy levels were sky high from the impromptu early night and my progress with
Cora, but Paps would appreciate my effort when he rose for the day. The audible
bubbling of the percolator was overtaken by a crash, as the front door burst
open. I rushed to see the cause.

In the doorway, a muscular, sandy
haired guy held Kendrick draped, unconscious, at his side. He struggled through
the opening with his burden. “He got a bit roughed up, mate. He’s all yours.”

I studied my brother’s bruised
and bloodied face. His skin was warm, and a pulse met my fingers on his neck. “What
happened?”

“Fucked if I know. I found him
like this.”

“Yeah, right. Where?”

“In the gutter. Back of Green
Street.”

“And you’re saying you had
nothing to do with it?”

“Would I have brought him home,
if I had?”

“Who are you?”

“Name’s Liam,” he said, unhooking
Kendrick’s arm and pushing his body in my direction. His bulk slumped into me
as I caught him.

Liam, of course. Who else? “If
you did this to him, I’ll …”

“You’ll what? Christ. You do a guy
a favour and get shit for gratitude. Fuck you. Try taking a look in the mirror
before laying blame at someone else’s door.”

Struggling under the dead weight
of my brother, I asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Rick was doing fine before you
turned up. Then you come waltzing onto our turf, acting all big man. Feathers
have been ruffled, cockshit,” Liam’s narrowed eyes stared down his nose, “and
we don’t need you stirring up more trouble. When he comes round, you can tell
him the job’s off, and he’s got you to thank.”

Vibration shuddered through the
house as the door slammed under the force of Liam’s wrath. I stared at the
woodwork, covering the opening where he’d stood a second ago, and hitched Kendrick
more securely into my hold. The metallic smell of blood coated my nostrils.

Kendrick groaned.

“Come on, Bro. Better get you
upstairs before Paps sees the state you’re in.”

If Pappa woke up and saw his
grandson battered and bruised, any points I’d earned with my coffee making
skills would be outshone, big time, by my failure to keep Kendrick out of
harm’s way.

How had it come to this? I’d been
in town less than a fortnight. Before I arrived, I had very specific plans.
Plans for a secure future for both Kendrick and me. Plans that hadn’t included
falling for Pappa’s next-door neighbour or making enemies in my new town.
Kendrick was my baby bro. I was meant to be taking care of him, keeping him out
of trouble, but if Liam was right, all I’d done, so far, was to get Kendrick’s
face pulped. It had to have been those sadistic bastards from the game. If I
hadn’t gone back, my brother would have been safe. If they’d caught me that
night, it would have been me lying in the alley, not him. Why was I so stupid
as to think I’d get away with it? All the cash in the world couldn’t replace
the life of my brother.

For the second time in a few
short hours, I carried someone upstairs, this time with my guilt weighing down
my burden.

I made Kendrick as comfortable as
possible, cleaning away the dried blood and propping up his head with plenty of
pillows. There was nothing more I could do, short of a trip to the hospital,
and that would mean questions I couldn’t answer, and possibly the police.
Involving the authorities would only cause more trouble. Incidents like this
were always outside the law.

Blood had stained my already
suspect T-shirt, which forced me to finally do some laundry. I swear if I ever
make it in life, I’m hiring a laundry service to do that crap. Dealing with
your own stench is bad enough, but other people’s sweat stains and skid marks
make me dry heave.

Paps surfaced when I was stuffing
the machine.

“I made coffee, although it might
be stewed by now. Should I make fresh?” I asked.

“No need to trouble yourself,”
Paps said, pouring a cup. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

I watched as he shuffled down the
corridor, coffee in hand, pulled the morning paper from the letterbox, and
settled into his chair. Moments later, the air filled with tobacco aroma.

So much for point scoring.

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Newly clothed in a fresh, white T-shirt,
I stood on Cora’s front porch with a bicycle in each hand, contemplating which
one to let go of in order to knock.

The bicycles had belonged to my
parents and had been sitting in Pappa’s garage, gathering rust for a year,
along with boxes full of other memorabilia that Pappa couldn’t bear to get rid
of. It was time they had an outing.

I’d checked in on Kendrick before
I left, but he was out of it, and I thought it best to let him sleep. He could
tell me what happened later. Pappa had enquired as to his whereabouts, and I
contemplated telling him that Kendrick had gone to college, but if he woke up,
or if Pappa went into his room for some reason, I’d be in trouble. Hell, I’d be
in the shit anyway. I’d said Kendrick wasn’t feeling well and wanted to be left
alone. Pappa had drawn his own conclusion and grumbled something about too much
beer. I hoped it was enough to prevent him from poking his nose around the door
and exposing my lie, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

Finally plumping for the old lean
the bike against the leg method, I knocked. It wasn’t long before I got an
answer.

As usual for our relationship,
Cora had totally ignored my request. Not a patch of Lycra in sight. Her tie
fronted top and tight capri pants, which left nothing to the imagination, would
have to do. She looked down at the bikes, and frowned. “What are those?”

“A couple of elephants. What do
they look like?”

“Is this is your idea of a date?”

“Actually, I figured it would be
more your idea of a date. You know. Something sporty. And let’s face it, your
wine and dine thing didn’t work out too well. What’s up? Can’t you cycle?”

BOOK: Boy Next Door (Parkside Avenue Book #2)
11.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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