The Man Next Door Ch. 01

"I definitely can't imagine you on a motorcycle, babe," Will said.

There was an edge to his words. Jackson definitely picked up on it. His pleasant smile turned sour.

"I definitely can. Something tells me she'd be a natural."

Will's polite smile faded. "Well, you're the expert. I've never been on one of those things." He turned to me. "Should we go in?"

"Sure," I agreed quickly. This whole situation was much too awkward to take. "Goodnight, Jackson."

"Goodnight, guys."

Will just nodded, nudging me back towards out house with his hand on my shoulder.

He was quiet when we walked inside. He tossed his keys on the coffee table, slid his shoes off, turned the TV on all in silence. I waited for the words, waited for his questions. Nothing came.

Eventually I told myself I was crazy, that I should relax. I went into the kitchen to make tea. Just as I put the kettle on the stove. Will's voice was suddenly behind me.

"When did you meet this guy?"

I jumped and spun around. "What?"

"Jackson. Our neighbor. When did you two meet?"

"Two days ago."

His eyes searched my face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't come up. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. I'm just surprised, is all. You guys seem chummy."

I sighed in relief that this wasn't going to be a big deal. "He's just friendly. He's Margaret's son."

Will gave me an interested look.

"They don't get along. That's why we never heard of him."

"I'm not surprised. He looks like a wild guy, especially with that Harley sitting in front of his house." Will inhaled. "Speaking of which, you are not allowed to go riding on it, crazy girl."

"Allowed?" I asked on a disbelieving laugh.

"C'mon, Ash. The last thing I need to worry about is you on some motorcycle with a strange guy."

"I understand your point. I accepted mostly out of politeness. But 'allowed'?"

He rolled his eyes and stood. He stalked over to me, and when he reached me he slowly ran his finger down my arm. His other hand cupped my cheek.

"You're mine, baby. You're precious to me. So, yeah. 'Allowed' is the word I'd use."


I opened my mouth to say something snotty back, even though what he'd said was kinda sweet, but he stopped the words with his mouth. He kept kissing me. We became oblivious to everything except our bodies and the movement of our lips. The tea kettle whistled but we didn't even notice.

Somehow he'd worked my pants down and he was inside me. It didn't take long at all for me to forget about being allowed to do things, about bikes, and especially about my gorgeous neighbor.

____________

The next week Will had to go as a chaperone on a school trip over the weekend.

"Make sure all the doors are locked when you go to sleep," he warned while he put his suitcases in the car.

"Okay." I gave him a warm smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"And make sure you answer my calls and texts."

"Yes, Dad."

Will didn't find me funny. He stomped over and gave me a hard kiss. When he pulled away, his eyes bore into mine. "I mean it. I hate leaving you."

My throat got tight. God, I loved him. The sentiment often got lost in the day to day but I loved him. I even loved him when he was being an asshole.

"I hate you leaving me, too."

"I'll be back soon, okay?" He kissed my forehead. And then he got in the car, waved and smiled, and sped off.

__________

The next day I was idly watering the garden Will's mother had put together when we moved in. Miraculously I hadn't killed anything yet.

"Hey, kid."

I looked up from a droopy hydrangea and smiled. Jackson was leaning against my fence, an amused smile on his face.

"I didn't take you for a gardening type kinda woman."

I blushed and dropped the hose. "I'm not. Not really. My mother-in-law is."

He nodded, shifting his weight onto his other leg. I waited for him to say something else. He didn't.

Jackson was obviously at ease when it came to silence. I couldn't even handle a minute of it.

"Would you like to come in for a beer or something?"

He snorted. "I was going to ask you to come out with me for a beer. Let's get a change of scenery."

Will wouldn't like this, but it would be rude to say no, right? I ignored the fact that I just really, really wanted to go.

"Sure. Do you want to drive or should I?"

"I'm driving," he said, like it was obvious. "On my bike."

Oh, crap. Will really wasn't going to like this. It was on the tip of my tongue to chicken out. I could just say I was too afraid, which was true.

Then Jackson walked over to me, so close our noses almost touched. "C'mon, baby. Let's have a little fun."

Five minutes later I was on the back of his bike, screaming with excitement with the wind in my hair and my hands wrapped tightly around him.

________

Jackson knew everyone at the bar, which was remarkable to me considering he was never around much before. Had he acquired all these friends in the few weeks he'd been living here, or had they remembered him from the brief visits he'd made in the past... so brief I never even knew he was there?

It was clear they all admired him. One of them worked with him at the mechanic's down the road. He swore that Jackson would be able to get my car "screaming for him" and that it would "go crazy for his touch". The innuendo wasn't lost on anyone, and they all laughed and whistled at Jackson.

The fact that I was married, which a few of the locals knew, and that I was obviously wearing a wedding ring went unnoticed. Or it was ignored. I was a good-looking girl hanging with their buddy, who in their eyes needed to get laid.

Jackson seemed a tad bit embarrassed every time someone suggested we go home and stop eyefucking one another. I didn't even realize I was doing it until they said it.

I froze a little after that. My laughs were a bit more self-conscious. The unease disappeared after a few more beers.

He put his hand on my back when I coughed on one thick sip, patting softly and unnecessarily. I was fine in a second, but he kept his hand there. The warm and the weight of it made pleasure streak through my flesh and blood.

We didn't talk much, at least not to each other. I gossiped with some guy about some of the women in our neighborhood. Jackson talked a lot with his coworker, discussing how they were going to fix up this really awesome car.

It got darker and I could feel my phone vibrating for the fifth time. I knew it was Will, but I didn't want to answer... at least not in the sticky, dim bar we were in.

Jackson sensed my distraction and said our goodbyes for me. He ushered me out into the cool twilight and we hopped onto his bike.

By the time we got home, Will had called me another two times. I answered when my phone vibrated again. I was out of breath when I answered and Will immediately noticed.

"What's going on? Why haven't you been answering my calls?"

Jackson watched me as I lied. "Sorry, sweetie, I took a big nap. I have a headache."

The accusatory tone in Will's voice faded. "Oh, no. Did you take some Advil?"

"Yeah. It's getting a little better now."

Jackson tilted his head and studied the sky, trying not to listen to my conversation.

"I love you. Sorry I can't take care of you."

"It's okay. Listen, I'm going to go take a bath and try to go back to sleep. Call me in the morning?"

Will was quiet for a minute. This definitely didn't sound like me; usually I begged for him to stay on the phone with me, eager to soak up every moment with him I could.

Then he said, "Okay. Love you."

"Goodnight," I whispered before pressing "end".

I didn't know what I didn't say "love you" back, like I always did, but the words froze in my throat.

Jackson coughed when I got off the phone. "That was fun. I'm a little buzzed."

"Me too. I wish I was a bit more drunk, actually. I'm in the mood for drinking."

He smiled. "What--run out of your bottles of red wine?"

"Ha, ha."

"Hey, why don't you come over to my house? I have all the beer you could want, and I make a mean steak fajita."

I felt like the wind was whispering that this was a mistake. My heart thumped hollowly and my stomach was regretting all the beers I'd ingested at the bar.

But I still heard myself saying, "Yes."

Jackson grinned and lit a cigarette.

"Yes," I repeated. "I'd love to."

_______

A football game played on the TV, but we were distracted. Jackson watched me flip quietly through a photo album of his.

Finally I landed on one spectacular photo of a baby that just had to be Jackson.

He confirmed it when he muttered, "That's Mom and me."

I traced his little baby face. "You were so cute!"

"She didn't think so." I looked up at him and saw him take a big gulp of beer.

"You're so bitter about your childhood."

His eyes sliced to mine. "Aren't we all? Aren't you?"

"Maybe, but I don't spend much time talking about it."

"No," Jackson agreed. "You don't talk much about yourself at all. Shouldn't I be the mysterious one?"

I gave him a smile. "You are. Please don't get any more mysterious on me; I can't handle you as you are."

He didn't smile back. Instead he watched me as I turned page after page, marveling at what an innocent kid he was back then. I was fascinated by the little boy grinning back at me from photo to photo, carefree and happy. It was hard to reconcile this kid with the brooding, jaded man beside me.

Then I thought about my childhood photos. Me in various school uniforms, at the prom, at graduation. I was sure that my smiles over the years, from the toothless to the toothsome, would shock Jackson, too. I doubted he would be able to reconcile the bubbly girl I was in the past with the cynical woman I was now.

The woman who very much wanted in his pants, wedding vows or not.

"You seem distracted."

I looked up from the photo album. "Oh, no. I'm not. Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Jackson tilted his head, taking in everything about me--my expression, my hair, my dress, my stance.

"Nothing. I'm sor--"

"Please don't say you're sorry again. You've apologized for fifty different things since you came over tonight."

I had to pinch myself to stop from saying it again. Jackson either caught me or knew what I was thinking because he gave me a little smile.

"Such a goody two-shoes you are."

"Excuse me?" I snorted. "Not even close."

"Yeah, you are," he said, resting back on his elbow. He studied me and nodded to himself. "The epitome of one."

"I am not."

An eyebrow went up. "Really? Why do you want everyone to like you so badly?"

"I don't," I said in a snotty voice. "What makes you think that?"

"You want me to like you very, very badly."

It was as though he threw ice water all over me. It was humiliating that he picked up on that, and even more so that he said it out loud. Nevermind that I fucking blushed in response. I couldn't even pretend that it wasn't true.

"Just because I'm friendly doesn't--"

"I don't think you're friendly," he interrupted. He was still cool and calm as I hyperventilated and got red in the face.

This whole thing was so fucked up. I shouldn't be over his house while my husband was away, sipping on Bud Lights and talking about how much I wanted him to like me. I sounded like a teenager and it had to stop. I was about to say goodnight when he continued.

"I think you have no intentions of being friendly with me."

That made me pause.

"You don't want us to bond over morning coffee, or have me water your plants while you go on vacation." He shifted closer to me, his mouth far too near for me to be comfortable. "You want me to fuck you. Hard."

I gasped. I couldn't help it.

Liquid fire exploded in my chest, my stomach and my pussy. My nipples hardened and I just wanted his mouth on me. I'd participated in dirtier talk but it didn't matter. It was the way he said them, the tone of his voice and the flicker in his eyes. He spoke such simple words and yet they officially undid me. If he asked for anything just then, it would have been his.

Instead I watched as he pulled away, grabbed the remote, and turned up the sound on the game. Eventually my mouth shut but my body couldn't catch up with my mind. It still simmered, craving touch of any kind.

"You're unbelievable," I said.

Jackson grinned. "Yeah."

______

I fell asleep at some point. Football was never stimulating to me, and we'd had a lot of beer. I woke up with heat to the back of me and draped over my side. It took my sleep-addled mind a moment to figure out that the "heat" was Jackson's body. He slept soundly behind me on the couch. The TV was on, its low hum and dimly flashing lights were almost enough to lull me back into sleep.

Then Jackson moved closer to my back and I felt it.

He was hard and pressing insistently into my ass. Fuck.

"Ashley," he breathed against my ear.

I didn't know if he was awake, or fully awake. It didn't matter.

"Shhh." I reached behind me and grabbed his hand, dragging it so that it came around to clutch my breast. Tears came to my eyes. "Don't say anything. Please."

His sigh was long and I knew then he was as wide awake as I was.

Jackson kissed my ear. His fingers massaged my breast and his thumb circled around my nipple endlessly. He tugged my shirt and bra to the side to get better access.

And then we moved together like it was coordinated, like we had always moved this way together. He slid my skirt down, plucking my thong along with it. I moved restlessly, fucking him through his jeans. I didn't want to think about how wrong all this was, because if I did I wouldn't want to stop. And I didn't want to stop.

I put my hand behind my body and pushed at his hands impatiently. Finally he tore off his jeans, and his boxers along with them. His slick cock rubbed against the skin of my ass.

"Ashley," he tried again.

"Shut up," I whispered, tears falling down my cheeks in endless trails.

He kissed my neck and hunched over my body, using his hand to insert his cock in my desperate pussy. It didn't take long for him to rut into me, pushing his considerable length into my sensitive flesh.

"Fuck," he groaned.

I sank my fingers into the plush couch and got fucked. I couldn't remember ever being pounded like this, and so quietly, too. The only sounds were the TV's murmurs, Jackson's grunts, and my own heavy panting.

His thrusts were rushed, my cunt was soaked, and my entire body was locked with pleasure. I couldn't remember being this aroused in a long time. His cock barely had any resistance every time he plowed inside me, his actions growing ruthless and violent.

He was close to cumming, and I could tell by his focused speed he had every intention of getting there soon.

But he didn't forget about me. He moved his weight off of me and stood, roughly turning me so that I was bared to him for his visual pleasure. He twisted a nipple, rammed a finger in my pussy, grinned when I cried out. The fierce shade of his cock awed me. So ready to burst.

He leaned over me and kissed me, his tongue sweet and purposeful as it moved against mine. It was the most passionate kiss I've ever received.

Before the stars could fade from my eyes, he had three fingers furiously fucking me. My entire body seized and I grabbed his arms.

"Please," I begged him.

His eyes glittered with satisfaction.

"Oh my God!" My entire body lifted and shook as I prepared to have an orgasm.

The entire process was thrown off when he shoved his prick right back inside, fucking me through the most violent orgasm I'd ever had. My eyes rolled backwards and my voice screamed unintelligible things in a tone I'd never heard. My pussy dripped with each contraction and sucked him in deeper.

He cried out along with me. Just as I was coming down, he yanked himself free and fucked his cock with his huge hand. The other hand squeezed my tit tight until I screamed out.

And then he erupted jets of cum that scalded my flesh. His bellows were desperate in my ear. Finally he collapsed next to me, rubbing my cum-drenched belly.

"Holy shit."

I stared at the ceiling--blue, purple,red. The news was on now. Facts were recited by the TV in a monotone voice. And I'd just fucked another man who wasn't my husband.

How did this happen? One moment I was a devoted wife, the next I was fucking the scruffy biker from next door.

Jack's neck whipped to me, and I turned to look at him.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

Every nerve tingled. I could feel my hard nipples against my misplaced shirt. My heart thundered and my worn-out cunt begged another round.

I snuggled up against his cool body, unable to answer him with words.

Because what could I say? "Amazing, since I fucked someone other than my husband?" "Alive, because I let a stranger's cock inside me?" "Horrified, because I betrayed the one man in this world who would never intentionally hurt me?"

I couldn't say anything. So I laid nestled around his body, saying nothing.