Page 45

LYLA

“ W here’d we put the penis straws?”

My co-worker catches my arm, dislodging a dick-shaped balloon from my mouth. We watch as the limp love log sputters past the bar and flops at the base of a sign that says, “Beth’s Bachelorette Party.”

I turn back to my colleague. “The straws are on the buffet.” I’m not sure where I set them among the peen cuisine. “Maybe try looking between the beefcake kabobs and the pecker pizza?”

“Thanks.” She scurries off and I pick another cock balloon from the pack. The party doesn’t start for ten minutes, but early arrivals have already found the Panty Dropper cocktails. Blowing a shock of hair off my forehead, I inflate the last meatsicle for the centerpiece.

Beyoncé blasts through the stereo as new arrivals file past befuddled randos at the bar. Our colleague’s quickie wedding didn’t give us much time to find private event space, but we’re making do with the watering hole next door.

Jill from IT confers with Kim from accounting at a bistro table nearby. Jill leans on the wall, one hand resting on the the pin-the-junk-on-the-hunk board .

“Ron loves watching threesome porn together.” She giggles and takes a sip of her drink. “It’s so naughty , but what’s the harm?”

“Absolutely,” Kim agrees. “It’s not like we’d ever really do it. But you’ve gotta keep things spicy.”

Ain’t that the truth.

Not that I’m an expert on long-term relationships, but spicy sounds good to me.

Jill stirs her drink with a cock straw and leans closer to Kim. “How do you and Pete keep things sexy?”

“Well.” Kim coughs and gives a wicked grin. “We play this game sometimes where I’m a burlesque dancer and he pays me for a lap dance.”

I cover a smile and think of my grandma. She’s a burlesque dancer—a real one—or she was before she retired to raise me when my parents died. A glance at my watch confirms it’s too late to call. Grandma’s tied up tonight leading Dotty’s Dirty Book Club at her retirement home.

Let’s just say having a guardian like Grams explains a lot about how I turned out.

At the table beside me, Jill’s sharing her own tale of how she and her husband keep things exciting. “Sometimes, Ron pretends to pick me up in a bar,” she says. “Like we’re strangers or something. It’s so hot.”

“I love it!” Kim must sense me listening because she waves me over. “Lyla, you’re our resident single girl—come tell us the wildest thing you’ve ever done.”

No way.

Not in a million years.

Not if I want my sweet, kindhearted co-workers to keep seeing me as one of them. I’m still fairly new to the team and can’t afford to overshare.

But my smile’s for real as I head for their table because I’m glad to be included, and besides—they’re discussing my favorite subject. Cocktail in hand, I cover the distance in three strides on my four-inch heels.

“I love sex.” That came out louder than I meant it to. Adjusting my dark-blonde ponytail, I try again. “I mean, I’ll try anything once.”

“ Anything ?” Jill gives a scandalized laugh. “That’s a pretty broad range.”

“Yeah, give us something juicy.” Kim’s smile seems encouraging. “You had great ideas for this party. You must have a whole treasure trove of stories.”

She’s not wrong there. I swallow my drink to buy some time. “Oh, you know how it is.” Another sip as I choose my words with care. From the look in their eyes, they don’t know how it is. “I like being watched. Or watching—that’s great, too.”

Jill cocks her head. “You mean porn?”

“Exhibitionism.” Kim’s whisper comes with a jab to Jill’s ribs, but at least she’s smiling. “Or what’s the other one—voyeurism?”

“Ooh, yes.” Jill’s eyes light like birthday candles. “On our tenth anniversary, Ron and I did it in the coat closet at his office party. Anyone could have caught us. It was hot.”

“You bad girl!” Kim giggles and sips her own drink. “Is that what you mean, Lyla?”

Not quite. She’s in the same ballpark, but more like the back row of bleachers, while I’m standing naked in centerfield.

But I keep on smiling because what’s the alternative? I can’t have them knowing what really turns me on. It’s not the time or the place, and why make them uncomfortable? Their vanilla sexcapades aren’t my flavor of choice, but I’ll bite into anything that brings pleasure to the two people involved.

Or three.

Or four people or even?—

“Something like that,” I say to get my thought train back on track. “I suppose I do have a bit of an exhibitionist streak. ”

That’s putting it mildly, and my colleagues titter with excitement.

“That’s so…scandalous!” Jill’s positively giddy.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Kim asks. “A boyfriend or?—”

“Or girlfriend.” Jill nods once. “No judgment from us. We’re not prudes.”

“Or how about casual sex?” Kim giggles. “Or just someone you’re hot for.”

Jill bumps me with her hip. “Give us something, girl!”

I sip my drink, stalling for time as my lips wrap around the plastic penis straw. Do I tell them about my hot neighbor?

The urge to share overwhelms me, so I dip one toe in the pool. “There’s this hot guy who lives in the house beside mine.” I watch their faces for judgment. So far, so good. “We’ve never spoken, but he’s sexy as hell and lives right next door.”

Kim cocks her head. This isn’t starting out how she expected. “You moved to a new place last month, right?”

“Right.” I came to Portland to be close to my grandma, and I love my modest ranch home flooded with light. All those windows, and the views…

“My neighbor’s this big, brooding guy who sits on his back deck a lot,” I continue. “My place sits a bit higher than his, so I can see right into his yard when he mows the lawn without a shirt.”

“Oooh sexy!” Jill laughs and stirs her drink. “He’s got a nice body?”

“Yeah.” I lick my lips and sip some more cocktail. It’s tangy and spicy with just a hint of sweetness. “I was pulling weeds last week and I knew he could see me, so I took off my shirt.”

“Really?” Kim shimmies her shoulders. “You weren’t in your front yard, right?”

“Backyard,” I say, though I wouldn’t mind either way. “I had on this lacy black bra and these tiny little cutoff shorts. I felt his eyes on me the whole time and it was crazy hot. ”

“Lyla!” Kim laughs and sloshes her drink. “You’re so bad.”

If she only knew.

She’d die if I said what I’m hoping to see each time I peer through my curtains.

Each time I long for a glimpse of my neighbor.

I may not know his name, but I know the shape of his shadow as the sun dips low behind his shaggy maple trees.

I know the span of his shoulders as he sips a beer in the dark, cricket song sizzling between us.

Can he feel me watching? Does he know what I crave? What I want more than anything?

What if he wants the same thing?

But no. That’s not possible. Guys like that don’t exist. Not long-term, anyway.

“Tell us more.” Jill’s almost to the bottom of her drink and the glint in her eyes shows it. “Us married girls live vicariously through you.”

I swallow and smile, wondering again if there’s any way to meld those two things. Marriage and the kind of kink I crave. Long-term love and lust and hunger and the sort of screaming, head-banging sex that leaves me walking funny for days.

I lick my lips and keep going. “We have this shared fence and he was out there painting it shirtless last week.” My pulse ticks up as I recall the ripple of muscle in his shoulders.

The flex of his pecs as he paused to wipe sweat from his brow.

There’s a jagged scar snaking from his cheek to his chest and I wonder how he got it.

How it might feel to trace it with my tongue.

Jill’s voice brings me back to the bar. “Is he single?”

“I think so.” I heard him tell the mailman he’s unattached when a catalog came addressed to a woman. “The night I moved in, he brought a date home. Probably a fling, since I never saw her again.”

My pulse pounds and my skin prickles with heat. Flames flood my core at the memory of that night.

“He kissed her on his back deck with his hand up her shirt,” I continue as my palms get slick. They’re not the only part of me growing damp. “Then he took her inside and I stayed on my deck thinking maybe I’d hear something or see something or—” I stop as confusion fills their eyes.

This wouldn’t turn them on.

Not at all.

Watching a man they desire fuck someone else?

It’s the last thing they’d want.

And it’s the thing that separates me from friends like Jill and Kim and really everyone of any gender I’ve ever met.

I clear my throat. “I’m just a girl looking for love and sex and the whole happily ever after.” That’s not untrue, but it isn’t the whole truth.

“Here hear!” Jill’s smile says she hasn’t read my mind. Thank God .

“Someone needs a refill.” She grabs my glass and scurries toward the bar. That leaves me with Kim, who wears a wary expression and a blouse buttoned up to her throat.

Time to do damage control. “Anyway, I don’t think my neighbor has a girlfriend.” I tug the hem of my skirt, wondering if I should have worn something longer. “Maybe I’ll ask him out sometime.”

“You’re so bold.” Kim sighs. “I love how modern girls just go for what they want.”

“True.”

What’s even truer? I want my neighbor.

Not just him, but the fantasy of how we’d be together. Is it nuts to think we could be kindred spirits? We’ve never spoken, so of course it’s insane.

That doesn’t stop me from wishing. From wondering if his kink could match mine. From feeling the heat in his eyes as he watched me weeding topless. Something in his hungry gaze called to me and I’ve ached to answer for days.

I glance at the bar as Jill hands our glasses to the guy behind it. The bartender gives me a wink and mouths six lovely words before pointing to the clock.

I get off in an hour.

And so will I.

Lifting a hand, I give him a nod.

I won’t pretend he’s my soulmate. We’ve fucked a few times and it’s great, but that’s it. Just casual sex, which scratches the itch sometimes. I’m not even sure of his name. Chris, maybe? Kyle?

Jill returns and I take my drink and thank her. With a glance at my watch, I contemplate the night ahead.

It’s not the bartender filling my thoughts. Not his thumb on my clit or the slide of his cock inside me. Not my breath coming in quick pants as his thrusts rush me to the edge.

I’m picturing my neighbor.

I’m thinking it’s time to test my theory.