Neighborly Complications (Stories of Serendipity #1) (24 page)
Read Neighborly Complications (Stories of Serendipity #1) Online
Authors: Anne Conley
When Aaron surfaced he was assaulted by the sexiest voice he’d had the pleasure of hearing. His hands were holding the struggling creature; she was soft, small, and naked. Her hair was short, silky black, and it was slicked back from her face—a beautiful face at that. Her eyes were silver and seemed to penetrate into him. She had a cute little nose that sloped up at the end. There was a very small dimple in her chin and her lips were full and puckered ever so slightly. She had a look on her face that told him this was her pond and he was the intruder here.
“What do we have here?” Aaron said holding the squirming woman. She looked like a drenched pixie as he smiled down at her.
“You can just take your filthy hands off me.” Lacey pushed against his chest, he didn’t budge. Shaking the water from her eyes, she got her first look at him.
He looked like a Greek god, with his hair a mess of dripping golden blonde locks; it appeared it was a little longer than her own. She noticed his skin was golden and he had eyes that were a deep rich brown, with a strong firm chin. His body was up tight against her own; and it was warm, firm, and as she noted, naked. She pushed harder against his chest, again he didn’t budge.
“Hm, I don’t think they’re dirty any longer,” he said with a slow smile. He kicked his legs a few times making sure their heads stayed above the water. He felt her legs against his; they were soft and smooth, making him want to tangle in them. He could see her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. The water lapped lower on the most perfect pair of breast he’d had the pleasure of seeing in his almost thirty years. Then, she tried to push him away again. This time he pulled her closer, so he could feel her cool skin against his burning skin.
“Let’s just see what happens when I…” He lowered his head intending on tasting.
Lacey felt his muscular hairy legs against hers. She could see a light coat of blonde hair on his tan chest. A chest, she noted, which was full of tone rippling muscles. She tried again to push free, no luck, his arms were like vices, holding her tight against him.
This time when she pushed, he returned by pulling her closer. She felt his chest hit hers and held her breath. His arms snaked around her, his hands were on her back, holding her in place. When his head started descending towards her mouth, she panicked.
“Let me go before I scream,” she whispered in a shaky tone.
He heard the panic in her voice. Pulling his head away, he looked into her eyes and he could see the panic there.
Shaking his head to clear it, he pulled away from her just as she reached up and pushed his head under the water. He stayed under for just a moment, allowing his mind to cool.
In that moment, he saw her duck under the water. She quickly ran her eyes over him, turned her back and swam towards the shore at a speed that impressed him.
He drifted under the water for another few seconds, trying to clear his head. When he pushed himself up he shook the water from his eyes and looked towards the shore. He didn’t see anyone. Where had she disappeared to? He glanced around. She was nowhere to be found. How could she have disappeared so quickly? There were some bushes and a rock to the left, but nothing big enough to conceal a woman. Turning in circles he scanned the entire area, taking in any movement. Nothing!
Was he going crazy? What was he doing? Had she even really existed? Had he imagined her?
No!
He could still feel the warmth from her breath on his face; and when he closed his eyes he could smell her.
Dunking his head under the water again he looked around the pond. From what he could see, he was the only inhabitant. Pushing up again, he scanned one more time and than finally called out.
“Hello?”
Nothing!
He must have been hornier then he’d thought to imagine a sexy water pixie.
Shaking his head he decided he could use a few laps to cool his libido.
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Chapter 1
D
alton tilted his head back and felt the shot burn as it slid down his throat. He looked over at the woman in the vinyl bustier to his right and lifted the empty glass to her in a gesture of thanks.
He had been second-guessing himself. Just because he always came here, didn’t mean he had to always come here, did it? He wondered if he was getting tired of it all. He had been feeling restless the last couple of weeks and couldn’t quite put his finger on what was causing it.
He briefly wondered if he was finally ready to go back home and fulfill his family’s desires for him. Then the shot had showed up and the vinyl bustier had winked at him, and all thoughts of home and family vanished. He figured he could find someone entertaining to do tonight.
She stood up from the plush wingback chair and sauntered over to him, to perch on the arm of his chair. Eerily, her face reflected the multi-colored strobe lights: sickly green, mellow blue, demonical red. This last color seemed to mesh well with the abundance of makeup she wore, either to hide her age or hard living, Dalton couldn’t tell nor did he care.
Her hand encircled his bicep, as she inhaled slowly into his ear. “That’s a nice shirt. Can I talk you out of it?”
He inwardly rolled his eyes at her blatant pick up line, but since the outfit she was wearing had “fuck me hard” written all over it, he decided he shouldn’t disappoint. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap.
This was a club, but The Church on a Sunday night had some pretty lax rules about appropriate behavior. With the bass beat pounding through his spleen, he dipped his head and tasted the woman’s neck. She moaned and leaned into him, pushing her breasts against his chest. That was all he needed.
He nibbled her earlobe, “The last time I had sex in this chair, they asked me to leave.”
“Then let’s get out of here.” Her hand stroked his erection through his pants.
So he obliged her.
Alyssa was making lunches for her kids while they fought over toothbrushes in the bathroom. “Guys, come on! We’ve got to leave in ten minutes. We do not have time for this!” She finished throwing chips and cookies into the brown paper bags, and tossed them onto the couch on her way to the bathroom.
Extricating the princess toothbrush from Cayden’s grasp and placing it into Sierra’s hand, she said sternly, “Now, get to brushing!” Ten harried minutes later, they were on the way to school.
In the car, on the way to school, Alyssa cranked up the radio and tuned out the children. As soon as the bickering faded out, the dream she’d had last night tuned itself in. It had been a good one. She blushed at the pool of warmth forming between her legs.
It must have been some sort of subliminal thing telling her to get out more because the dream started out in this wild club. Scantily clad women, men decked out in black leather and metal spikes were everywhere.
After the club, Alyssa had gone home with this beautiful woman and done unspeakable things with her, because in the dream she had been a man. Was that her subconscious telling her something else?
She had been an incredibly hot man, for sure. Auburn hair, gray eyes, muscles everywhere, and apparently a boundless creativity in bed. Saliva pooled in Alyssa’s mouth, and she swallowed thickly.
At that moment, with her kids in the car, she was thankful her thoughts were private.
It was confusing. Alyssa was not attracted to women, and had never had any desire to be a man, but this dream was so real. In the dream she had performed delicious sexual acts with a woman, and Alyssa had enjoyed every bit of it. There was something about kissing the smooth skin, the supple softness, being in control of everything, that was deliciously foreign. The feelings her body had experienced were so strange to Alyssa. It could very well have been a wet dream. Did women even have wet dreams? She wasn’t sure, but she was almost positive she had had an orgasm last night.
As wrapped up as she was in her own thoughts, the drive was short this morning, After dropping the kids off at their school, she continued on to hers, trying to focus her thoughts on the school day.
Walking into the school, Alyssa swept her long blond hair up into a pile on top of her head and secured it with a pencil she found in her purse. She didn’t have time to look in a mirror in the morning, much less fix her hair. She pulled a few tendrils down to make it appear purposeful and walked to her room, keys in hand.
Alyssa’s classroom was fastidiously neat. She had motivational posters up on the walls, and spirited orange drapes over the windows. She walked into the room and opened up the drapes, to let some sunshine in. Before she could even grab her coffee cup and escape to the teacher’s lounge for some caffeine, a tall young man, wearing impossibly baggy jeans and a dirty hooded sweatshirt came ambling into her room. He dropped his backpack onto the floor by a desk and pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his sweatshirt pocket.
“Ms. Fuller. I don’t get the homework.” He threw himself into the desk, and slouched down as low as physically possible without actually sliding out of the bottom.
“Well, get a book and show me exactly what you didn’t get.” Alyssa said to him, after putting her coffee mug back down on the corner of her desk.
“I didn’t get any of it. I don’t get what a verb is.” He made no move to get a book off of the shelf.
“Well, a verb is an action word. It’s a word that conveys action, like run, drive, or sleep. But what the homework was over was adverbs. They describe action, and most of them end in -ly. Honestly, Logan, you should have learned this stuff in junior high. Get a book, while I get some coffee, and I’ll come back and help you with it.” She grabbed her coffee mug and power walked down the hallway to grab her morning caffeine.
Anne Conley is a former high school teacher, who took some time off to raise goats and children. Living in a rural Texas town has taught her that life won't come to her, she's got to grab what she can get. So, she started writing for public consumption. She lives in a rural East Texas town with her husband, two children, and currently 44 goats. She is writing two series: the Stories of Serendipity, about life and love in a small town, and the Four Winds, about God's archangels "falling" in love. Check out her blog,
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(in order)
Claire is a jilted bride, jumping at the opportunity to hunt for treasure in the house her uncle left her in his will. Her goal? To start fresh in this tiny town called Serendipity, fix up the old house and start a bed and breakfast. The hunky widower next door is not in her plans. And when he seems to show up all the time, butting into her business, she can’t seem to dampen her frustration. Or control her urges.
Max has the same problem. Something about the woman next door has made him forget all about the comfortable memory of his wife. He feels an unexplainable need to explore the tumultuous emotions that Claire evokes in him, but it seems like all he can ever do is make her mad.
But damn, she’s sexy when she’s mad…
