Sidebar. How does a woman just happen to stumble across the realization that she can do something like that?

  The lights turn off inside Kyah’s apartment, and I force myself to focus. It’s been almost an hour since she arrived home, and I cross the road before slipping down the narrow alley beside her building. Then finding the fire escape, I make my way up like a ninja in the night.

  Lingering outside the window of her apartment, I peer right into her living room like some kind of stalker, and make sure everything is quiet inside before gripping the window frame and effortlessly sliding back, a twisted smirk stretching across my lips.

  Silly girl leaving her window unlocked. Doesn’t she know how dangerous that could be?

  Slipping inside, I move around her apartment, and the closer I get to her bedroom, the more I can smell that sweet summer breeze. She’s so enticing, like forbidden fruit made just for me, teasing me, begging me to come and take a bite. And when the time is right, I will.

  Her apartment is small, but that’s expected for a one-bedroom in Brooklyn, but she clearly looks after it. She puts care into how she dresses the place and mostly cleans up after herself. I appreciate that in a woman.

  Stepping into her bedroom, I hear the subtle sound of her even breathing, and it takes hold of me like a hand plunging right into my soul. I close my eyes, resting back against her bedroom wall, and just listen, but it quickly becomes too much. Before I know it, the soft sound of my fly being pulled down fills the room.

  My heavy, straining cock falls into my hand, and as I close my fist around it, squeezing tight, I open my eyes, needing to look at that sweet face. I stride toward her, and as my fist starts working up and down my cock, I come to a stop right by her head feeling the soft brush of her breath blowing against my bare skin.

  My whole body shudders, and I grip her headboard so I can lean a little closer, and with her face barely a breath away, I go to fucking town. I picture her so perfectly, the way those full, pink lips would close around me, sucking me hard. Fuck, I need her more than anything.

  “My sweet, Kyah,” I whisper into the darkened room, my grip tightening on my cock before finally coming hard right into the palm of my fucking hand like a goddamn teenager. My body stiffens, paralyzed by the intensity, and my knees shake.

  Good God. That was good.

  Then with a palm full of hot cum, I reach down with a closed fist and gently run the back of my knuckles over her bottom lip so softly that she doesn’t even stir. “Soon, Kyah. Soon,” I tell her before tucking my cock back into my pants and finally leaving her room.

  Moving into her bathroom, I go to wash the pool of cum out of my hand when I find a pair of black cotton panties lying on the ground. I recognize them as the ones I saw her wearing earlier through her bedroom window, and I can’t help scooping them up and holding them to my face.

  I inhale deeply, and I groan, immediately growing hard again.

  So fucking sweet, just as I knew she would be. Then after wiping my hand in her worn panties, I prop them up on the bathroom vanity, waiting for her when she wakes, the sweetest gift I’ve ever left.

  3

  KYAH

  My six a.m. alarm screeches through my bedroom, and I groan, throwing my hand out and scrambling for my phone to turn it off. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard. What the hell was I thinking when I set it this early?

  On my way home from work last night, I had the brilliant idea to start working out. I was going to go for early morning runs and start a Pilates routine. I’ve always been in love with my body. I’m one of those love the body you’re in kinda girls, but damn, I’d kill to look like one of those gym girls with the dump truck ass and the toned stomach, but now that the sun is streaming in through my bedroom window, I don’t know how badly I actually want it.

  Shit. Everything always sounds like a great idea before it actually comes time to do it.

  Lying in bed, I stare up at the ceiling, willing myself to go back to sleep, but when it becomes all too clear that’s never going to happen, I sigh. My bottom lip pouts out, and I throw my blanket back before clambering out of bed.

  I traipse out of my room and across the hall to the bathroom to pee, and before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my laundry hamper, scoop all of my clothes up into my arms, and dump them in. My towel falls on top, and as I reach for the hand towel beside the sink, I laugh, noticing my black panties I wore yesterday lingering on the vanity.

  I was so freaking tired by the time I got home last night, I was tossing my clothes everywhere. Hell, I’m pretty sure I was half naked by the time I even made it to the bathroom. My shower was quick, and I barely remember any of it. Hell, I was due to wash my hair last night and was so tired that the thought of having to go through my whole hair care routine almost had me shedding a tear, but I wouldn’t dare cry over something so trivial. If Crew ever found out, he’d never let me live it down. He can be an ass like that, but I love that carefree, teasing relationship between us. If only it could be more. We’d be great together, but there’s no way in hell we’d be able to make it work.

  We’re more like siblings, but siblings who are sexually attracted to each other . . . wait. No. Scrub that. I take that back. That’s definitely not what we are.

  Shit. Now the thought is burned into my brain.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  There’s no doubt about it though, the chemistry between us is like no other. If we didn’t work together, I’d probably already be his. We’d fight like there’s no tomorrow, but then we’d fuck until the sun came up and everything would be good again.

  Lifting my laundry hamper, I knock my panties in before trudging out into the kitchen and grabbing the few tea towels I’ve left discarded on the counter. Then because I’m a sucker for punishment, I strip my bed as well.

  Making my way to my front door with my laundry hamper jammed under my arm, I go to walk out before glancing down and gasping, realizing I’m barely wearing anything, just a thin tank and a pair of cheeky Brazilian panties. I mean, shit. Maybe there really is something wrong with me today.

  I scurry back to my bedroom and throw my clothes from one end of the room to the other until I find my favorite pair of sweatpants, and before I know it, I’m back at the front door, juggling my keys, my laundry hamper, and my fancy-ass detergent. Apparently, I’m a hoity-toity bitch who gets turned on by superior laundering. I mean, there’s just something about the way I can walk down the street and look at the random dude coming the other way and know that my clothes are not only softer than his, but they definitely smell better too.

  Stepping out of my door, I quickly lock it, and a noise behind me has me whipping around, my heart lurching out of my chest. “I’VE GOT MACE,” I scream, just as my eyes land on my hot neighbor, the one I’ve been avoiding saying hi to.

  And good God, he’s not wearing a shirt.

  He gapes at me, pulling his door closed behind him, a laundry hamper jammed under his arm, identical to the way I hold mine. A slow grin stretches across his lips, and for just a fleeting second, my heart fumbles right out of my chest. I’ve only ever seen him at a distance and made a point to avoid him like the plague. I could just tell he was a heartbreaker, the kind that I would throw myself at over and over again. But now, up close and personal with that sculpted chest and abs that lead down to that deep V . . . I’m screwed.

  Did I mention he wears low riding-gray sweatpants, and damn it, I see the perfect outline of his thick cock.

  Hot neighbor dude arches his brows, clearly seeing what’s caught my attention, but he doesn’t waste a perfectly good opportunity to drop his deep, inquisitive gaze down my body as though he’s committing every last subtle curve to memory. “I’m curious,” he murmurs, those dark eyes seeming to dance through the dimly lit hallway as my mind instantly takes me to all the ink I could decorate his body with. Hell, he’s the perfect blank canvas. “That tank isn’t leaving much to the imagination, so it’s only natural for a man to wonder where you could possibly be hiding that can of mace?”

  My cheeks flush, and I mentally slap myself across the face. I am not that girl who gets all flustered and blushes because some guy is noticing just how thin her tank is. “Ahh, so New Neighbor Dude is a dirty perv,” I comment with a teasing grin. “Good to know.”

  He laughs. “Ahh, and New Neighbor Chick likes to evade questions. Equally as good to know,” he throws back at me, that same teasing grin gracing his full lips. “But in case that mace is shoved somewhere you can’t quite reach, just know that I’m the kind of neighbor who will happily lend a hand when in need, especially when it comes to all of those hard-to-reach places.”

  I adjust my hamper against my hip, narrowing my gaze on his and trying not to notice just how tall and wide he is, not in the same way that Viper is though. No, this is the kind of guy who looks as though he spent years as a professional athlete. His body is practically cut from stone, and judging by the deep summer tan, I can only assume he spends plenty of time outdoors.

  My gaze slowly drags back to his face, taking in the almost jet-black hair that’s kept messy and falling into his eyes. Add that to the stubble along his sharp jaw and he looks perfectly uncaring, but something tells me that’s exactly what he was going for.

  I hold my hand out to him, my gaze lingering on his. “I’m Kyah.”

  “Kyah,” he says, testing out the sound of my name on his lips. “I like that. I’m Alex.”

  “Well, Alex,” I say. “It’s been a pleasure meeting my new pervert neighbor, but there’s a washing machine down in the basement calling my name.”

  His gaze shifts to my full hamper. “That looks like a full load,” he says slowly. “Perhaps two full loads.”

  “Uh-huh,” I murmur, narrowing my gaze, wondering where the hell he’s going with this.

  “There’s only two washers in the basement,” he comments, gripping his hamper a little tighter. “And yet, between us, three loads.”

  I inch away from my door, putting myself a step further down the hall, understanding him clearly. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if one of us was made to wait?”

  He nods, his gaze narrowed to slits as he inches toward me, following me slowly, creeping down the hall. “You should know, I’m not a very patient man.”

  “Then perhaps you should know that I don’t like to lose.”

  He holds my stare a moment longer, the tension in his body like a coiled-up spring, ready to bounce forward at any second. But there’s no way in hell I’m about to give up now. Hell, had he not made this sound like such an intriguing competition, I would have happily put my second load in after he was done, but now I’m fighting purely out of spite. Then before he gets a chance to get out in front of me, I turn on my heel and sprint for the stairs, gripping onto my hamper like my life depends on it. “THOSE WASHERS ARE MINE, ASSHOLE!” I call over my shoulder.

  “We’ll see about that,” Alex calls, bounding after me.

  I squeal as he hauls ass, his long legs quickly catching up to me, and as I hit the stairs, I grip the railing and fling myself down two at a time, positive I’m about to fall. Something flashes out the corner of my eyes, and I gape, realizing Alex just launched his hamper right over the edge of the staircase. With a slack jaw, I watch as he grips the railing and launches his body right over the side. Only, unlike his hamper that fell the full three floors, Alex’s big body drops down only one flight of stairs, easily putting himself in the lead.

  Fucker.

  Hell, he’s given himself enough time to stop and glance back at me with a wicked grin. “Gonna have to be faster than that, Mace,” he teases, and with that, he takes off like a bat out of hell.

  A thrill shoots through me at the way he calls me Mace, but I don’t get a chance to linger on it as I fly down the stairs after him. Though I don’t know why I’m bothering, it’s clear I can’t win this one. But playing along? Shit, I don’t want to miss this for the world.

  Hitting the basement floor, I sail right through to the laundry room to find Alex hovering over one of the washers, in the middle of dumping his clothes in, not bothering to separate the colors, but I’m not one to talk. I’ve never separated the colors, and so far, I’ve lived to tell the tale. “Shit, where have you been?” Alex smirks, making a show of glancing at his watchless wrist. “Stop for a break along the way, did ya?”

  I blow out a breath, hardly able to talk as I move in beside him to the second washer, hating how out of breath I am while Mr. Parkour beside me looks as though those acrobatics were nothing but a Sunday morning stroll to him. “I underestimated you,” I say with a grin, a giddiness creeping through my veins. “But don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

  Alex outright laughs, and the sound has something trembling inside my chest. “Fuck, I should have run into you ages ago,” he says, a boyish grin pulling at his lips as he watches me out the corner of his eye, making my cheeks flush again. “What do you do, Mace?”

  “I’m a tattoo artist,” I tell him as I pull all of my clothes out of the hamper and dump them into the washer.

  “No shit,” he says, reaching over the washer to adjust the cycle settings before dumping way too much detergent in. “I’ve always thought about getting a tattoo but could never figure out what to get.”

  I smile. I must hear that comment at least a million times a day. My gaze drops to his chest and abs, my mind already spinning with endless designs, and damn, each and every one of them would look amazing on him. “Hmmm, all the things I could do to you.”

  Alex arches a brow, and my eyes bug out of my head, realizing how that came across. “Oh. Shit. No, I didn’t mean like that,” I rush out. “I meant tattoos, as in all the ink I could give you. Crap. That sounded bad. It’s just, you’re like the perfect blank canvas, and now I’m rambling, so please feel free to shut me up any minute now.”

  “No, no,” he laughs. “By all means, keep going. Don’t let me stop you. This is the best entertainment I’ve ever had.”

  I roll my eyes, trying to recover as I finish filling my washer, and just as Alex had done, I set my wash cycle before taking my special detergent and pouring in the perfect amount. “You need to put on a shirt,” I tell him. “You’re turning me into a frazzled mess, and that says a lot for a girl who spends her days hunched over half-naked people.”

  “You know what?” Alex murmurs. “I might just walk around like this all the time now.”

  Just great.

  Leaving the hampers in the laundry room, Alex and I make our way back to the stairs. “So, what do you do?” I ask, recovering from my earlier rambling as we prove that we can act like adults on the stairs.

  “Military,” he says, not offering much more, and considering it’s absolutely none of my business, I don’t pry. He glances toward me as we pass the first floor and head to the second. “How come I haven’t seen you around?”

  I scoff. “Because when a hot guy moves into the building, I make it a general rule to avoid him like the plague.”

  His dark eyes dance with laughter. “Why?”

  “Because I will end up sleeping with you and then it’s awkward because you’ll get attached and then when we run into each other in the hallway, it’s going be that weird oh shit, we’ve seen each other naked and I know exactly how you taste thing, and I don’t want that, especially at home. And in case you haven’t noticed, you live directly across from me.”

  “Ahh, so you think just because you’re hot, that automatically means I’m going to fuck you.”

  I grin. “You’re telling me if I asked you to take me right here on the stairs, you’d say no?”

  “Hell no, Mace,” he says, almost offended by the suggestion. “You wanna bend over right now? I’ll fuck you until you cry. But you should be warned, I don’t play gently.”

  Good God.

  This man is going to get me in trouble.

  We pass the second floor and hit the third, walking down our hallway toward our apartments. “I’m taking you out on Saturday night,” he tells me.

  “Like hell you are,” I tell him. “Did you not hear my whole explanation about why I don’t get involved with guys I live near, or do I need to start over?”

  “Nah, I heard you, Mace. I just think it’s bullshit,” he says as we reach our doors. He opens his, hovering in the doorway as I shove my key into my lock and give it a firm twist, the mechanism being a little bitch as usual. “I’ll pick you up at eight, and this time, make sure you’re wearing a bra. If I have to look at you all night with those pretty nipples peeking through your tank, it’s going to fucking kill me.”

  My gaze drops to my chest, and I gasp, my eyes widening in horror, realizing that my tits are on full display through this flimsy tank. Hell, it’s even a little see-through, and my nipples . . . well, shit. They’re more than happy to see him.

  My hands awkwardly come up and cup my tits as I glance back at him. “Such a gentleman, waiting until I’d gotten all the way back to my door before mentioning it.”

  Alex winks. “What can I say? Momma raised me right.”

  I laugh and shove my door open with my elbow. “You’re trouble, Alex.”

  “Saturday night,” he says, stepping into his apartment. “Don’t be late.”

  “Never gonna happen,” I call back, and with a stupid grin across my face, I close my door between us, certain that he’s the kind of guy to bust down my door, dress me, and force me out of my apartment just to show me a good time.

  Alex really is trouble, but for once, I think it might be the exact kind of trouble I want to get into.

  REID

  Mmmm, there’s no denying it, out of all of the women I’ve had, Kyah is the most thrilling. The way she bends over her client, her ass so perfectly in the air for the taking. If only there weren’t a piece of glass between us, I would have claimed it by now.

  She wears a pair of tight black jeans that curve around her ass just right, and I’ve never wanted to sink my teeth into something more than I do now. I wonder how she’ll feel about biting. Who am I kidding? Just look at her, of course she’s down with biting. I’ve always had a sixth sense when it came to what my women want while they’re being fucked, and Kyah . . . goddamn, she’s different.