Being Neighborly Read online

  Stepping between her legs, my hands flex on her waist as her fingers dive into my hair. Bess has been after me for a couple weeks now to trim my hair. I can safely say I may never cut it short again. I’d hate to risk losing the almost painful jolt of pleasure it brings as Bethany tugs it. Her shirt is wet, and clinging to parts of her I’d like to explore. It’d only be polite to remove it, right?

  My hands drift under the damp material. Similar to the start of our kiss, I move slowly. I wait for her hands to release my hair and stop my hands and their upward progression. This does not happen; instead, her lips drift from mine to my ear.

  She kisses my neck first before her nose ghosts over the shell of my lobe as she whispers, “Do it.”

  Verbal confirmation heard and acknowledged, I tug her shirt from her and fling it behind me. It lands somewhere with a slap. My hands reach to cup her breasts. Her swift intake of air as her back arches, pushing them further into my hands, a giant turn on. She inches forward on the counter, hooking her legs around my waist as she grinds against me.

  My thumbs massage her nipples through the lace of her mint bra. I drop my mouth to one, sucking her nipple into my mouth through the lace as my hand works the cup down of her other breast. She gasps, her hands once again in my hair as she holds me to her. One of her hands moves downward and slips into my jeans to grip my ass.

  All I want to do is love her long and hard until she’s panting my name. With a mouthful of her tit, I’m curious if that’s something she’d like as well. My fingers trace the seam of her bra, all the way to the back closure. I lift my head. Her eyes are closed; her lips parted. When her eyes flutter open and her gaze rests on mine, I unhook her bra.

  Our eyes stay locked as my fingers move up to her shoulders and slowly drag the straps down.

  “What do you want, Bethany?” I ask, dropping her bra next to us.

  She gulps. “You.”

  Good answer.

  My lips drop to her neck. “And what do you want me to do?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  Even better answer.

  I take her mouth, lifting her as she clings to my shoulders. Her bedroom is on the second floor. I sample her lips, throat and collarbone with each step. I grin against her lips when I see how messy her room is. There are boxes from her move still piled in one corner. Another corner boasts an overflowing laundry basket. Her bed clearly unmade. Instead of annoying me, somehow I find her haphazard mess endearing, or I could simply not care since I plan on burying myself in her.

  Depositing her gently onto her sheets, I take a step back to imprint the sight before me permanently. Naked from the waist up, eyes wild with lust, she beckons me. Reaching over my head, I tug my shirt forward and off. She’s seen me shirtless before, but watching her lips part in appreciation, ratchets my desire impossibly higher.

  I fumble to take my boots and socks off as quickly as possible as her body writhes with want. My fingertips crawl up her legs until I get to the button of her little jean shorts. Her hands fist the sheets on either side of her as I undress her. Once I’ve rid her of every stitch she wore, I kiss my way up her legs. I focus on and worship each freckle that has tormented my dreams along the way.

  Patience is a virtue and I plan to take my time loving Bethany. Her attempts to rush me along are noted and appreciated. There is a time and a place for a fast and hard screw, but seeing as how she’s been an itch I’ve been wanting to scratch these long weeks, I plan to fully see to it. Besides, I’ve never been a halfway kinda guy.

  “Just watch, darling. I’m gonna take real good care of you.”

  I hold her gaze, her eyes widening and hands fluttering to my head as I taste her. She’s perfect. Every single thing about her in this moment has me more turned on than I think I have ever been before now. With my fingers and my mouth, I take my time drawing pleasure from her. When I’m certain she is completely satisfied, I start my ascent up her body.

  Her hands go straight for my jeans, but I almost stop her, wanting today to be only about her, but I’m too weak with want. She pushes me onto my back and then rids me of my jeans and boxers. I’m ready for her, long and hard. My hips buck when her fingertips wrap around my cock. Christ, her touch is heaven, sending a sensory overload through me. I’m a bundle of exposed nerves.

  Her eyes land on mine and I watch as her tongue darts out to wet her lips. She doesn’t break our eye contact as she lowers herself to take my cock in her mouth. There’s nothing hotter than her hazel eyes locked on mine as she goes down on me. This feels really good, like winning the lottery or scoring the game winning touchdown.

  That’s a guess since I’ve neither won the lottery nor played high school football. Problem is what she’s doing is so freaking amazing; I’m about to come straight down her throat. I’d rather be balls deep in her pretty little pussy though.

  “Darling.” I sit up, reaching to lift her and pull her into my arms.

  My mouth needs hers. “Shit, Bethany, you are so gorgeous. I want you so bad.”

  Her mouth moves against mine as she tries to kiss and speak at the same time. “I want you in me, Beau. Please.”

  “I want in you so badly, darling. Do you have any condoms?” I can’t break our kiss either, replying against her mouth, holding her body tightly to mine.

  She pulls me with her as she leans right, her hand going for her bedside drawer. Her hand disappears into the drawer once she has it open and she groans, shuffling stuff around. I try not to laugh, but she’s so frustrated it’s cute.

  “Let me.” Shifting her off my lap, I move closer to the edge of the bed so I can see inside her drawer. I find her vibrator first and lift it and an eyebrow up at her. She blushes and covers her face so I set it on the top of her table.

  “We’re playing with this later.”

  Once I find the condoms, I take no time opening one and putting it on. Bethany has turned so her back is to me, hands still covering her face. I crawl over to her and kiss my way up the side of her body, turning her onto her back.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. I think it’s sexy as hell you can make yourself come. Now, it’s my turn to.” Her mouth drops as her hands fall away from her face. “You know that right, Bethany?”

  She shakes her head so I continue, shifting her legs until I’m between them. “Just how sexy I think you are. Hell, you’ve been the reason for every cold shower I’ve had to take since I met you. Does that turn you on?”

  She nods, her lips still parted. I dip my mouth down to hers as she tilts her hips up to meet my cock. I was wrong earlier when I thought heaven was my cock in her mouth; nope, that wasn’t even close to burying myself between her thighs. She wraps her legs around me and her fingers bite into my scalp. Her lips are the path to my salvation as I pump in and out of her.

  “You feel so perfect,” I groan against her lips.

  Not moving her lips from mine, she replies, “Oh, God, right there.”

  “You tell me what you want.”

  “You, don’t stop.”

  I can’t stop kissing her and she seems to feel the same way. Neither of us fully stops speaking as we continue to kiss. I tell her how her body is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She tells how me what feels right, don’t stop, there, there, there, harder, yes, yes, oh God yes.

  Amazing is only way to describe what being with Bethany feels like. Her hands come to rest on my shoulders as I lift her up and down and then back down onto my shaft. Moving one hand back behind her to brace herself, she twists her hips, grinding against me each time I’m deep inside her.

  I lower my head and pull her nipple into my mouth, running my tongue over it before nipping it. She groans, her movements becoming jerky, her body tensing. I repeat my attention on her other nipple and she cries out loudly, her tight core convulsing around my dick. I come hard after that, gripping her slick body tightly in my arms.

  I push her backwards, following her and tucking her to my chest. “That was...”
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  “Incredible,” she finishes, dusting my collarbone with gentle kisses.

  “Give me just a moment.” I stand, the heat of her eyes on my bare ass as I cross the hall to her bathroom to dispose of the condom.

  She’s waiting for me, all sated and luscious on her bed. I tackle her, grinning as she squeals. “I want to kiss every inch of you.”

  She wraps her arms tightly around my neck. “Best house call ever.”

  I pull back. “Shit. Forgot about your sink.”

  She shrugs, pushing a curl out of her eyes. “It’ll still be there when you’re done kissing me.”

  I pull her back into my arms. “Fair enough.”

  Chapter Five

  The weeks that followed our first time together were full of laughter, good food, getting to know each other even better, and the hottest sex I’ve ever had. Every spare moment I’m not working on the farm, I’m over at Bethany’s. I can talk about anything with her and she with me. I finished that book she edited and am reading another one; only I’m not doing it alone this time. Now, as I read, I do it with her feet in my lap as she works.

  Together, we’ve also worked on and gotten frisky in just about every room of her house. She’s still just as messy as ever. There’s at least one unpacked box shoved in a corner of each room, but otherwise, her place looks great.

  I’ve questioned a couple of her paint selections, but after seeing those off the wall colors actually on the wall and surrounded by her things, I can’t help but like them. Each room has Bethany written all over them. There’s even some of me as well. The other day I mentioned how much I liked Ansel Adams pictures, just in passing. Next time I came over, there was one hanging up in her living room; it’s like she’s unconsciously fitting me into her future.

  At the farm, it’s assumed that I’m eating over at Bethany’s place unless I let them know she’s coming over to eat with us. She’s heading to Florida for a week in a couple days and it’s already messing with my head. Stupid what ifs that have zero basis is in reality plague me. What if she decides she wants to move to Florida? What if she tells her parents about me and they don’t think I’m good enough for her?

  I’ve been short and snapping at everyone around me all week. I’m on my way to my parents’ cabin, hoping the walk will clear my head and relax me. I try and stop by at least once a week to check on my folks. I haven’t told them anything is going on with me and Bethany yet. At this point, they just think we’re friends. I plan on telling them just how much I’ve grown to care for her today, and see if it’ll be all right for me to bring her by to meet them.

  I’ve told her all about them. She’s too married to technology to ever go off the grid like they have, but she still thinks the idea of it is romantic. It’s hard to think of my parents that way, as romantics. It’s almost as weird as knowing they had to have sex at least once for me to be here. I’m maybe fifty yards from their front door when it happens.

  Trying not to think about my parents sexual relations and not paying attention to where I’m walking is not wise in a wooded area. I step right on to a cottonmouth snake and thoroughly piss him off enough for him to bite me.

  “Damn it.”

  They aren’t extremely venomous, but I’ll still need to go to the hospital. This isn’t the first snake bite we’ve had on the farm, so I know not to panic. Thankfully, my mom keeps a four-wheeler at the cabin in case of emergencies. This qualifies. I limp the rest of the way to their place.

  Man, my leg hurts. The bite is on my left calf. Halfway to the cabin, I stop and call the house line.

  Luckily, Bess answers.

  “Bess, I got bit by a cottonmouth. I’m maybe twenty yards from Mom and Dad’s cabin, but it’s killing me to walk. Can you come get me?”

  “Be right there,” is all I hear before she hangs up.

  A half-assed glance behind me is all I can manage before sinking to the ground. I drag the back of my hand across my forehead to find I’m soaked with sweat. Something isn’t right. I’ve seen reactions to a cottonmouth bite before and they weren’t this bad. This is my last clear thought before I pass out.

  ****

  My eyes swim as I try and figure out where I am. It hurts, correction everything hurts, but my attempt to turn my head to look around hurts enough to make my head spin.

  “Hey, Beau.”

  It takes a moment for my eyes to focus on Bess. I’m still not sure where I am, but my nerves settle a bit at seeing a familiar face. That doesn’t stop my head from spinning. I’ve never been so dizzy lying down before.

  “What?” My throat burns so badly I stop at that one word.

  “Well, big guy. You gave us quite a scare. You had an allergic reaction to the snake bite and have been unconscious for the last two days.”

  I start to shake my head, but it makes the room spin.

  “Is somebody awake?” An unfamiliar voice precedes a woman in light blue scrubs entering the room.

  “Beau, this is Lilly, one of your nurses,” Bess explains.

  She turns my hand over, her fingers taking my pulse. “How are you feeling, Beau?”

  “I’m dizzy,” I rasp, keeping my eyes closed. “And thirsty,” I add.

  “I’ll grab you some water in just a minute. That sound good?”

  A slight nod of my head is all I can manage.

  She takes my temperature and checks my blood pressure. I zone out, trying to remember what happened.

  “Can you feel this, Beau?”

  Huh?

  “Can I feel what?” I ask, my eyes opening.

  She’s standing next to my left leg, a grim expression on her face.

  I lift my head to try and see what she’s doing. Even though my vision blurs and the exertion of lifting my head is exhausting, I need to see. She has my foot in her hand and is turning it from side to side.

  I’m watching her move my foot. I see it. My brain recognizes that I see it, but I can’t feel it. Time stands still as I tell myself to feel it, as if mind over matter could come into play.

  “Well?” she asks again.

  I let my head fall back to the bed allowing the exhaustion to win. “I can’t feel it.”

  There’s a gasp from the doorway and I turn my head, opening my eyes to see who it is. Bethany. Her eyes are wide, her hands covering her mouth. She clearly just heard I can’t feel my foot.

  “Darling,” I breathe and she rushes to my side.

  Her hands are on my face, her lips on mine. “Oh, my God, Beau. I was so scared.”

  “Shh.” I want to put my arms around her to comfort her, but I’m either too weak or medicated to.

  My nurse interrupts us, letting me know she is getting me some water. Bethany is so busy fussing over me; I barely notice when the nurse returns with my water. I open my eyes slightly, risking the dizziness to see Bethany. She’s holding my water, her hands shaking as she brings the bendy straw to my lips. Even here, no makeup, clearly sleep deprived Bethany is beautiful.

  When I notice the redness around her eyes, my chest tightens and my throat swells, making it hard to sip the water she’s offering me.

  “What happened?” I manage.

  Bess walks around to other side of my bed, opposite to where Bethany is standing and pulls a chair forward before taking my hand in hers. “You were unconscious when I got to you with the truck. Thank God, Bethany was with me when you called. If I’d have come by myself, I never would have been able to get you into the truck.”

  A sniffle pulls may attention to Bethany and I watch her wipe fresh tears from her eyes. I try to lift my hand again, but am only able to raise it a couple inches before it falls back onto the bed, useless.

  “Don’t cry,” I plead.

  She shakes her head and attempts a brave smile. “I was so scared,” she croaks, her voice thick.

  “I’m okay,” I try to reassure her.

  She leans over me, pressing her forehead to mine, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Frustration bleeds from my inabili
ty to take her pain away, pain I caused. She drops a kiss on my lips before pulling away to collect herself.

  Bess clears her throat and I turn my head back toward her. “You had an allergic reaction to the venom and were in shock when we found you.”

  “Allergic reaction?” I repeat.

  “Yes,” a new voice confirms, entering the room.

  “Hello Beau. My name is Dr. Vanson.” An older gray-haired gentleman in a lab coat says.

  I lift my chin in reply.

  “Ladies. I need a couple moments with Mr. Hamilton.”

  “They can stay,” I breathe.

  He goes right to examine my foot, turning it from side to side before lifting it asking me what that nurse had asked. I confirm that I still can’t feel what he’s doing. Instead of stopping like the nurse has, I watch as his hands move up my leg. He stops every inch to ask if I can feel anything. He’s almost to my knee before I do.

  As scary as the loss of sensation is below my knee, it’s a relief to know it doesn’t go farther than that.

  Bess asks the question on the forefront of my mind. “Is it permanent?”

  “Allergic reactions can present themselves differently from one patient to the next. Partial paralysis is not unheard of, and unfortunately, only time will tell if it is temporary or not.”

  He starts to explain a condition called foot drop or drop foot. This is important; this is stuff I need to know about. Unfortunately, my body has other ideas, and exhaustion claims me.

  The next time I wake, the room is much darker, only dim lights above a sink in the corner are on. I’m less disoriented and dizzy this time around. Light breathing to my right draws my attention. Even in the dim room, I know it’s Bethany. She’s curled up on a recliner, a long sweater as a blanket, her shoulder a pillow. Not wanting to wake her, I watch her sleep.

  Her being here, not leaving me is an unexpected relief in this otherwise scary moment. I’m not sure how long I’ve been watching her when a nurse, a different one from before, comes in to check on me. Her movement wakes Bethany. She rubs her eyes, groggy in a way I’ve grown used to from our occasional overnights. It takes a moment for her to realize I’m awake.