Page 57 of Neighbor from Hell
Istand at the base of the manor’s grand staircase and stare at the vision of Lauren descending the stairs. I cannot take my eyes off her. She’s gorgeous, breathtaking, majestic, her blonde hair pulled tight into a sleek ponytail, her lips kissed with the softest shade of pink. A strange thought flashes into my mind.
She belongs here. She is the rightful mistress of this great house.
Her presence is a quiet storm, and I’d give anything to swoop her off her feet and carry her to my bedroom and feel her melt against me like she did last night. But I can’t, not yet, not when her trust is a fragile thread, one wrong move from snapping.
I want her to feel safe here… and with me, so I hold back, my hands flexing at my sides. I let my smile come, warm and easy, as I nod toward the door. “Come on, we have an hour before darkness falls.”
She nods back, her eyes bright with a mix of nerves and excitement that tugs at me, urging us out to the stables.
The evening air is still mellow as we cross the gravel path towards the stables. I chose a horse for her earlier—a white mare, gentle but spirited, her coat shimmering like moonlight. One of the stable hands leads her out.
“Ready?”
“I think so. If I fall off and break my neck, I’ll solve all your problems, won’t I?”
I frown. The joke is not funny, and I refuse to respond. Instead, I help her mount, my hands steadying her, one on her thigh, and the contact is electric, her warmth seeping through the fabric, stirring me, hardening me, until I’m half-mad with want. I grit my teeth, forcing it down, and focus on her, on teaching her, because I want this to be good for her, free of my selfish needs.
She takes the reins gingerly.
“Hold the reins like this,” I say, my voice low, guiding her hands, showing her how to grip the leather, firm but not tight. “Keep your shoulders back, your heels down. Let her feel you’re in control.”
She is nervous, her fingers trembling, but she listens, her eyes locked on the mare’s neck, and I talk her through it, step by step, my voice steady, coaxing. We start slow, the mare walking in a lazy circle, and Lauren sways slightly, her lips pressed tight.
“You’re doing fine,” I tell her, walking beside her, my hand on the bridle. “Just relax and it will all come back to you.”
She tries to gallop, a tentative nudge with her heels, but the mare lurches, and Lauren gasps, her hands clutching the reins too hard, her body tensing.
“I can’t. I’m not used to this horse. She’s too tall, too big,” she says, her voice small, and I see the fear in her eyes, the doubt. I can’t let her falter.
“You can,” I say, and before she can protest, I swing up behind her, my chest pressing against her back, our bodies plastered together, her heat seeping into me, intoxicating, perfect. My arms frame hers, one hand guiding the reins, the other resting lightly on her waist, and I feel her relax, just a fraction, her breath steadying as we move together, the mare’s gait smooth beneath us.
We ride slowly at first, the fields stretching wide, the grass a deep green under the fading light. Her hair brushes my cheek, the scent of her shampoo—lavender and clean. It fills my lungs, and I’m lost in it, in her, the way her body fits against mine, the way she is starting to trust me.
“Faster?” she asks, twisting to look at me, her eyes alight, her voice a squeal of excitement, and I grin, my heart tripping over itself. “Can we?”
“Yes,” I say, my voice rough, and I wrap one arm tighter around her waist, my other hand flicking the reins, urging the mare forward. She surges, hooves pounding, and we fly into the wind, the air sharp and wild, whipping through our hair, stinging our faces. Lauren squeals, a sound so bright, so alive, it cracks something open in me, and I laugh, low and real, because her joy is everything, more than I expected, more than I knew I needed.
The manor’s fields blur past, endless and golden, and I hold her close, her body warm, her excitement a pulse I feel in my own chest, making this moment, this ride, more fun than I could’ve dreamed.
We slow near the barn, the mare huffing, and dismount. My hands linger on Lauren’s waist as I help her down; her body brushes against mine, reigniting the heat I’ve tried to bury.
The rest of the evening is filled with some light exploration. She wanders off towards one of the glasshouse farms, her steps light, almost dancing, and I follow, my boots sinking into thesoft earth. I watch in wonderment as she reaches for berries. She picks blueberries, their skins dusky, like twilight captured in fruit, raspberries red as her lips, glistening in the fading light. And she drops them into a plastic bag she found by the entrance, her fingers careful, her smile soft, unguarded, and it hits me, a quiet ache in my chest, because she’s beautiful, not just in her looks but in this moment, this ease.
The sky darkens, the horizon swallowing the sun’s last glow, and I know dinner waits at the manor. I’ve seen the menu, a French spread, rich with butter and wine. She will love it, I know.
“We should head back,” I urge, but she lingers, her fingers trailing over a cluster of strawberry flowers, her reluctance a silent plea to stay in this bubble of time. I don’t push, just stand there, my hands in my pockets, watching the twilight soften her features until her profile becomes sharp against the dusk. Then she turns, her eyes meeting mine.
“We can come here again,” I say softly.
She nods, a small, resigned gesture.
We climb back onto the horse, her body settling snugly against mine, her warmth a steady flame. We ride back, slower, the world hushed, the sunset painting the sky in pinks and purples, like a watercolor left to bleed. Her hand rests on mine, wrapped around her waist, and her fingers stroke lightly, a touch so delicate it’s almost nothing, yet it sends an electric shiver through me. I try to restrain myself, to keep the compulsion locked down, because I promised myself I wouldn’t push, wouldn’t scare her, but it’s too much—her scent, her touch, the memory of her from last night.
My resolve frays, and I lean forward, my forehead pressing against the back of her head, her hair silky against my skin, and I inhale. Her lavender and sweetness are overwhelming, gorgeous, a pull I can’t fight. She shifts, her body tensing, thensoftening, and she turns, her face so close her breath grazes my lips. Her eyes are wide and searching, a question and an answer in their depths.
Our lips meet, tentative at first, then deep and sweet. A kiss that unfurls like a wave, her mouth soft and urgent, stealing my breath, my control. It’s everything—her taste, her warmth, the way she presses closer, her hands clutching my jacket. The world fading until it’s just us, just our mouths joined on a horse.
The manor’s lights gleam ahead, pulling us back. We dismount, breathless, the kiss lingering like a heartbeat, its heat still burning on my lips. Knox greets us at the door, his face expressionless, but his eyes are knowing. He must see the flush on Lauren’s cheeks, the way our eyes avoid each other.
