“Asshole,” I mouthed to him.
“Cockblocker,” he mouthed back, the smirk returning in full force.
I gasped and clenched my fists, prepared to tell him exactly what he could do with his cockblocker, when Neil burst in.
“Benjamin, check this out—this little hottie here is the Pink Nightie Girl! Can you stand it?” He laughed as Ryan struggled to keep a straight face. Benjamin’s eyes widened, and he raised an eyebrow at me. Simon swallowed a laugh.
“Pink Nightie Girl?” Jillian asked, and I heard Benjamin lean in and tell her he’d explain later.
“Okay, that’s it!” I shouted, and I pointed at Simon. “You. A word, please?” I barked and grabbed him by the arm. I yanked him outside and pulled him down one of the paths that led away from the house. He scrambled along after me, my heels ringing out angrily on the flagstone.
“Jesus, slow down, will you?”
My response was to dig my nails into his arm, which made him yelp. Good.
We reached a little enclave set away from the house and the party—far enough away that no one would hear him scream when I removed his balls from his body. I released his arm and rounded on him, pointing a finger in his surprised face.
“You’ve got some nerve telling everyone about me, asshole! What the hell? Pink Nightie Girl? Are you kidding me?” I whisper-yelled.
“Hey, I could ask you the same question! Why do all those girls in there call me Wallbanger, huh? Who’s telling tales now?” he whisper-yelled right back.
“Are you kidding me? Cockblocker? Just because I refused to spend another night listening to you and your harem does not make me a cockblocker!” I hissed.
“Well, due to the fact that your door banging blocked my cock, it actually does make you a cockblocker. Cockblocker!” he hissed back. This entire conversation was beginning to sound like something that might have happened in fourth grade—except for all the nightie and cock talk.
“Now, you listen here, mister,” I said, trying for a more adult tone. “I’m not going to spend every night listening to you try to crash your girl’s head through my wall with the force of your dick alone! No way, buddy.” I pointed a finger at him. He grabbed it.
“What I do on my side of that wall is my business. Let’s get that straight right now. And why are you so concerned about me and my dick anyway?” he asked, smirking at me again.
It was the smirk, that damn smirk, that made me go ballistic. That and the fact that he was still holding my finger.
“It is my business when you and your sex train come knocking on my wall every night!”
“You’re really fixated on this, aren’t you? Wish you were on the other side of that wall? Are you lookin’ to ride that sex train, Nightie Girl?” He chuckled as he wagged his finger in my face.
“Okay, that’s it,” I growled. I grabbed his finger in defense, which instantly locked us together. We must have looked like two loggers trying to cut down a tree. We struggled back and forth—beyond ridiculous. We both huffed and puffed, each trying to get the upper hand, each refusing to relent.
“Why are you such a manwhoring asshole?” I asked, my face inches from his.
“Why are you such a cockblocking priss?” he asked.
And when I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought, the fucker kissed me.
Caroline and Simon are all set to play house, but her crazy work schedule and his world travels keep coming between them and the sheets. Sure, the reunion sex is hot hot hot—but is that really enough? Alice Clayton serves sexy straight up—with a twist.
Rusty Nailed
As I turned my key in my apartment door I heard a distinct thump, followed by a click click click padding toward me.
Clive.
Pushing through the door, I was greeted by my wonder cat, my own little piece of feline heaven. In a burst of gray fur, my ankles were surrounded by purrs and insistent nudges.
“Hi there, sweet boy, were you a good boy today?” I asked, leaning down to scratch his silky fur.
Arching up into my hand, he assured me that yes, he was in fact a sweet boy, and also a good boy. Berating me for leaving him alone for a thousand years, he cooed and chirped, herding me toward the kitchen.
We talked as I readied his dinner for him, which of course I’d been put on earth expressly to do, and our conversation covered the normal subjects. What birds he’d seen from the window today, whether any dust bunnies had emerged from under the bed, and whether I’d find any toys buried in the toe of my slippers. He was noncommittal on this last question.