Page 9 of Devious Whims

“Hey! Did you just move into the neighborhood?” a cheery voice calls out to my right.

I turn to watch a bubbly blonde jog down the driveway I’m standing near. She’s in a tight tank top and black leggings that reveal her toned body. Her golden hair is slicked back in a high ponytail, showing off her overly friendly face. If I’m honest, she’s not bad-looking, easy enough on the eyes.

I drop my hands, tilting my head for my eyes to roam down her entire figure and back up to her flushed cheeks. She lets out a nervous laugh as she stands before me, then she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and the diamond ring on her finger glistens in the sun. It’s hard to stop the sneer curling on my lips, but I don’t want to deal with another married woman.

I blow out a breath to calm my irrational anger and give her a flirtatious smile. “Something like that, yeah.”

Her eyelashes flutter once. “Oh. Are you staying with someone then? I’m Karen, by the way.”

My gaze flickers to Cami’s house and back to Karen. She follows my stare and her smile widens. “Cami and Mike’s? They’re such lovely people.”

My eyebrows raise. “Know them well?”

She shrugs. “As well as the other neighbors. We all try to have a few BBQs during the summer. Andrew has the largest pool and the Johnsons have a well-built firepit.”

Irritation grates my nerves, not only because I don’t give a fuck who she’s talking about, but because she decided to strike up a conversation to begin with. The casual reminder that Cami has built a life like something straight out a Hallmark movie is making me sick.

“Did you need something?” I ask her curtly.

Her eyes widen as she blinks at me, stunned. “Oh. Uhm—no. Just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. Or if you’re visiting, then maybe offer you some spots to see while here.”

I roll my tongue over my bottom lip. “You’re awfully nosy. Are you sure that’s the only thing you wanted to offer?” My eyes drop to her pushed-up cleavage. She isn’t Cami, and my cock doesn’t even twitch at the thought of touching her. But my hurt and anger from earlier are still lingering inside, pushing me to do something equally drastic to inflict the same feelings on Cami.

Karen’s cheeks flush, the blush creeping down her neck and over the swells of her breasts. “I’m married.”

I smirk, lifting the bottom of my shirt to wipe at the sweat slowly rolling down my face. Her mouth drops as she takes in my muscular abdomen, littered with more tattoos. “And?” I prompt her.

She shakes her head, taking a step back. “I should get back. It was nice to meet you,” she mutters before turning quickly to hurry back into her house.

With a chuckle, I jog back. A part of me is relieved that she didn’t take up my offer because I’m not sure I could perform. Every part of my body is owned by the dark-haired beauty a few houses down.

Their lawn is due to be trimmed, and I think about mowing it for them. But as I get closer to the door, I take in the small home sign spelled out with Scrabble tiles and I scowl. It’s a decor item I know Cami would never buy, so it’s something she got to appease Mike. Taking the stupid sign, I snap it in half over my knee and toss it in the trash can on the side of the house before making my way through the front door.

I can hear her in the kitchen, and the anger I’m becoming familiar with rises. When I imagined our life together, I never saw her as the perfect housewife straight out of a movie. It felt right, but the fact that she became this for another man diminishes any desire to see her in that role.

She looks up from where she’s wiping down the counter, her gaze taking in my soaked t-shirt and shorts. “You have a good run?”

“Yup,” I say, walking to the fridge to grab water. “Met your neighbor, Karen. She’s hot.”

Cami’s eyebrows furrow as I watch her, and her shoulders slump before she faces the counters again. “Oh. Yeah. Karen is super sweet.”

I finish gulping down the last few sips, quenching my parched throat. Then I toss the bottle into the trash before moving to lean next to her. “She’s also married.”

“Is that your type now?” Cami snaps out with a huff. Her arms scrub back and forth in quick, jerky circles.

Dragging my teeth along my bottom lip, I withhold my laughter at her angry, pinched face. “My type is the same as it was ten years ago.”

Cami pauses, her lashes fluttering as she looks up. “Are you sure? Because tastes can change.”

“I’m sure, even if I’m tempted to try something new.”

Her jaw clenches but then she nods, and turns back to cleaning. I sigh, unhappy with the tension between us. “Mike mentioned projects around the house?”

“You don’t have to do that,” she whispers softly.

I grab her elbow, pulling her a step closer to me. She straightens, but her head is still tilted down. I study her face, my thumb caressing a circle into her arm.

“I want to,” I tell her.

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