It might have been way past my bedtime, but I didn’t want the night to end. Not just yet. I lay on my back, staring at my bedroom ceiling. It’d stopped spinning a short while ago. The gap in my curtains provided just enough light from the street to see by. A few years ago on nights like this when sleep wouldn’t come, I’d often talk to Mal–I mean, the poster version of him. Sad and psychotic, but true. Now the man himself slept next door.
Life could be a strange and beautiful thing sometimes.
Other times it was just a disaster. But sometimes beauty won out.
I ran my fingers over my poor, sore lips. They’d almost been kissed into extinction. Once Mal got an idea into his head, he was unstoppable. And apparently dancing with him meant indulging in a mini make-out session. It had gotten more and more difficult to feign dissatisfaction every time he tried something new. So many ways to kiss, I’d truly had no idea. Soft and hard, with or without teeth, the varying depths of penetration by tongue had featured largely. And hand placement. Whoa, the hand placement. He’d done everything from gently stroking my neck to kneading my ass. A man who knew what to do with his hands was truly a force to be reckoned with. I’d only just stopped him from slipping it up my skirt at midnight.
Such a great night.
He’d stripped down to boxer briefs again once we got home. I’d gone into the bathroom to grab a hairbrush and there he’d been, brushing his teeth. A man brushing his teeth had never been such a turn-on, even with the white bubbly drool slipping out of the corner of his mouth. My guess would be he didn’t own pajamas. Nope, a guy like him must sleep in the nude. A brilliant scientific deduction based on the hot and hard man currently occupying my couch. All too readily I could imagine his warm, tanned skin exposed. Did he sleep on his back, stomach, or side? Aesthetically, on his back would be most pleasing … for various reasons.
But if he did lie on his stomach the long line of his spine would be on show with the bonus addition of his ass. I’d sell something important to see his bare ass. My books, my e-reader, my soul, whatever was necessary.
And I could think about something else anytime I wanted to. But why would I?
No, masturbating was a much more sensible course of action. I was all wired and awake, my ni**les hard and br**sts aching. The time had come to take matters into my own hands.
“Mm, Nate.”
More moaning.
Some groaning.
A thump.
“Baby, yes.”
“Lick it, Lauren.”
No. Fucking. Way.
I covered my face with my pillow and silently screamed. If I put on music to drown them out (my usual course of action for dealing with Nate and Lauren’s nocturnal passions) I’d probably wake Mal.
Two more thumps. The bed next door started creaking. It was so loud I almost didn’t hear my bedroom door being opened.
“Pumpkin, am I in hell?” Mal walked in, sat on the edge of my bed.
“Yes. Yes, you are. I’m sorry. This is the first and worst level of all, the one where you can hear your neighbors f**king through paper-thin walls.”
Lauren made some screechy noise she was particularly prone to during such encounters. I cringed.
“Make it stop,” Mal whispered, mouth opened wide in horror. “Oh, f**k no. This is horrible.”
We both started quietly laughing. It was the only sensible response.
“Let’s go to a hotel,” he said, moving farther onto my bed.
“It’s four in the morning.”
“How long do they normally take?”
“They’ve been drinking, so this could go on for a while.” I drew up my knees, hugged them tight to my chest. He didn’t need to know about my nipple situation. The sad truth was that listening to people having good, noisy sex wasn’t helping. Lucky I was wearing my best comfy cotton jammie pants and an old T-shirt. They were so baggy they hid everything. Otherwise, having Mal sitting on my bed so close might have been a touch embarrassing.
“Isn’t there something wrong with this picture?” said Mal, scowling at the wall as if it had personally offended him. “I’m the drummer from Stage Dive. I don’t get kept awake by other people having wild sex. I keep them awake. I keep entire f**king neighborhoods awake.”
“Damn, baby. You’re so good at this,” Nate snarled through the wall.
“Did you hear that?” asked Mal.
“Yep.”
“Right. That’s it.” Mal climbed up onto his feet, standing tall on my bed. There was only a foot between him and the ceiling at most. “He’s taunting me. He’s challenging me.”
“He is?”
“The bastard.”
“And I always thought Nate was such a nice guy.”
He reached out his hand to me. “C’mon, Anne. We must defend our fake sex life.”
“Shit.” I took his hand, letting him pull me up too. “Don’t let me bounce off the side. And don’t hit your head.”
“I’m not gonna hit my head. Would you stop being such a grown-up for a minute? Relax, have some fun.”
“Harder, Nate!” Came from next door.
Mal’s cleared his throat, loudly. “Anne!”
“Mal.”
“Louder,” he hissed, as we started to bounce. The wooden frame of my bed made startling creaking noises. The kind it hadn’t made in a very long time, if ever. If only it were due to us being horizontal and naked. That would be so great.
“Mal!”
“You’re such a nice girl, Anne,” Mal projected for the sake of our neighbors. “I really like you a lot.”
“Seriously? That’s your version of sex talk?”
“Let’s hear you talk dirty, then. C’mon.”
I shut my mouth. It stayed shut.
“Coward.” Mal turned his face to the wall we shared with Nate and Lauren. “You taste so f**king good.”
“Like what?” I asked breathlessly, thigh muscles tightening. The man was lucky I didn’t just attack him with my vagina. “What do I taste like?”
“Well, like honey and cream and … I dunno, bread?”
I scrunched up my nose. “Bread?”
“Yes. Sexy bread that I could eat all the time because you are so delicious and full of wholegrain goodness.”
The next round of giggling made my stomach muscles seize up, but I kept bouncing. How weird to be laughing and jumping and turned on at the same time. Some friends of Lizzy’s and mine had a trampoline when we were growing up. It’d never been as much fun as this, however.