Page 4 of Damaged Enemy Next Door

With a devilish smile, he slides down the bed and slowly peels off my panties. He gets on top of me and positions himself between my legs. His hot breath tickles the insides of my thighs as he travels higher and higher, kissing and licking every inch of me until I am lost in pleasure. His tongue swirls on the outside of my pussy with such intensity that I cannot take it anymore and start to tremble uncontrollably beneath him. His tongue circles my throbbing clitoris as his hands caress every inch of my inner thighs. I moan, trying to thrust my pussy further into his mouth.

Then, he takes his finger and presses it inside me. I feel my legs quiver as he continues to lick me while thrusting and turning his finger in my pussy. I run my hands through his hair and urge him to go faster.

“You’re dripping wet, baby,” he says as I moan. He doesn’t miss a beat, teasing my clitoris, his entire tongue swirling around it. I can’t hold back. I feel my pussy contracting with fireworks, and I cum hard.

My body is still shaking from my orgasm when he gets up and reaches for the nightstand to grab a condom. He looks deep into my eyes as he slides it on. His strong arms wrap around me and pick me up, so I am straddling him just before he starts to enter me. My breath hitches as I feel him entering inside me inch by inch, and then all at once.

I can feel sex all around me. The scent of our lovemaking is in the air; the scent of sweat and sex mixing with the perfume I dabbed on before our dinner. He thrusts deeper, and I moan with pleasure, feeling the tip of his cock all the way inside. Yet, I want more. "Fuck me harder," I say, and like a stallion, he races to make my wish come true.

He pushes deeper with one quick thrust, my body shuddering as his cock glides into me further. My legs weakly wrap around him as he begins to really get into it and he grasps my hips with a firm grip, the rhythm of each movement becoming stronger and faster. The feeling of him inside me is almost too much for me; his shaft throbbing and pulsing, pushing deeper than before, growing larger with each stroke. I relish in the sensations coursing through my veins and feel myself spiraling closer to orgasm with every passing moment.

"I'm going to cum again," I say. "Fuck, I'm going to cum again. Harder, faster, baby ... please."

"Cum for me, baby," he says, his eyes on my tits as they jiggle with the ferocity with which he's fucking me. "Just fucking cum." I can feel my walls quivering as I come closer and closer to an orgasm. His hand is on the back of my neck, edging me closer and closer to his body. He speeds up even more as I start to crest the edge of pleasure, his dick digging deeper, bringing me ever closer to the sweet release of pleasure. I scream out in pleasure as my orgasm rocks through me like a wild wave, my body trembling with each spasm.

He continues thrusting into me until he too is overcome with pleasure and cums. His body shakes as he reaches his climax, and he wraps his arms around me tightly, pulling me in close so that our bodies are pressed together. We stay that way, enclosed with each other, taking heavy breaths, allowing the after-waves of pleasure to pass.

He pulls out and ties the condom. I lie back, taking heavy breaths. He helps me clean up, and we lay there for a few moments afterward, letting our hearts slow back down to normal after the intense passion we just shared. Sometime in between, I fell asleep against his warm body.

One can only imagine my surprise when I woke up the next morning.

I notice the bright light shining around the heavily drawn curtains and that it’s already mid-morning. In a rush, I jump out of bed, making sure not to wake him as he lay silently on his stomach. I quickly grab my clothing scattered across the room, noting that all too quickly last night has come and gone.

Draping my heels over my arm, I quickly sneak out of the room and head for the stairs. Though a part of me wants to stay in order to get some answers about who this man really is, like maybe just knowing his full name, another part of me knows that it does not matter. As much as it hurt to admit it to myself, last night was nothing more than a one-night stand. There is no way I would ever consider repeating a night like that with a man so much older than myself because bedding each other on repeat leads to just one thing. Emotions. And there is no way I would ever risk getting emotionally involved with a man in his 40s while I’m not yet 25. I had fun, that was it. But there’s no future there. It’d never lead to anything, so might as well acknowledge it for the fun it was now and save the heartache later. Nothing more than two strangers entwined in each other’s arms with no real commitment or connection between them - aside from the passion shared for one moment in time within those four walls. If I’m lucky, I will never have to see him again.

I drive home and open my bag to search for my apartment keys. My heart skips a beat. Just there, peeking out from the middle zip is a check. I open it and see that it is made out for one million dollars to Hope For Kids from something called the Carter Trust.What the fuck?Right next to it is a phone number and a simple message - Call me, Ade.

I take a deep breath and put the check back in safely to pass to Sarah later. As for the number? I throw it down the trash chute. It was one thing to fuck a man 19 years older, but an entirely different thing to imagine a future there.

CHAPTER 2

ADRIAN

Iwakeupthenext morning, my arm awkwardly stretched out beside me in an uncomfortable position, but then I recall why. The events from last night pour into my memory, and I smile as the vision of Olivia lying naked on my bed comes to mind. I sit up and look for her. The quilt next to me still has the outline of her spectacular figure from the hours she slept there. Maybe she’s freshening up. I’m about to call out and ask if she wants breakfast when I realize that she’s gone.

Usually, where I come from, that is the best outcome I hope for post a one-night stand. But this wasn’t usual, and Olivia isn’t the kind of girl I meet in the circles I run in. Olivia is thrilling, beautiful, a woman who has enticed me beyond her understanding … or mine.

I grin to myself and give myself an internal pat on the back. I made a smart move last night by slipping in the check and leaving my number.

I wonder if the million was overkill, but the truth is that I wanted to give her more. She has me convinced of the extraordinary services the charity provides, and kids are my weak spot. But I hope she’ll call me to thank me so I can take her out for a coffee, learn more, and then write out a second check. I won’t lie – there is an ulterior motive. Olivia has me enthralled, and I want to get to know her. She’s different. The million is a strategic move – it is enough to make her curious enough to call and learn more about me, but not so scared that she wouldn’t. In the past, my wealth has scared off a rare, honest bird or two and as for the ones who linger, it mostly ends up becoming clear – they linger for my money. And that becomes the sad story of my life – the women I want don’t want me, and the ones who want me are usually out there to fuck me over.

Olivia didn’t seem like the lingering kind, and I hope, from the bottom of my heart, that she will call.

Still reveling in the wonderous debauchery from last night, I rush through a quick shower and exit the hotel with a light skip to my step. Houston, Texas is new territory, and I’m still looking to find a permanent place. I can’t live in a hotel forever. I find myself grimacing when I consciously catch myself checking my phone for unknown calls. I feel a slight flutter of excitement when I pick up a call from an unknown number only to realize it is my realtor asking what time I would like to go and check out houses. I need a distraction. I can’t sit by like a teenage boy waiting for a girl to call. Checking out houses seems to be the best way to do that.

She will call. I am sure of it. But as the night passes and the next morning comes around, I start feeling angry. I am stupid to think that this is enough to have set the baseline for further communication between us. I forgot that she was 19 years younger than me and from what I remember when I was that age – there were lots of no-calling-for-three day-rules and other stupid socially accepted ‘truths.’

Three days come and go. Then four. Then five. I find myself getting angry – at my assistant, my employees, and my chauffeur. I just can’t understand why she hasn’t called. This has never happened to me before. Didn’t she get the check?

Suddenly, I feel mad at her. If nothing else, she should have called me to say thank you for the donation. That’s the least she should have done.

And at last, as a final sense of resolution, I realize that I am most angry at myself. I understood what I was getting myself into when I indulged in that one-night stand. I knew it. This is how one-night stands work. The difference between all those other times and this time is that now the coin has flipped. I am the one hoping for a call, and she’s not.

Is this how all those women who slipped their numbers in my pockets or wrote their addresses on my hand in lipstick felt when I never called back?

Damn. Karma is a bitch.

I realize how irrational it is to be mad at Olivia. Even her name sounds like a distant memory in my head. I should just callher.But I can’t get her out of my head. The memories come to me like snapshots. The way she looked in that crimson dress, that slit on the thigh, so enticing that if she sat and made one wrong move, I could have a look at what was underneath, that auburn hair falling in soft curls down her back while I had her tits in my hand, the way she moaned in pleasure when she came. How her ass shook when I pounded her roughly; the way she moaned in pleasure when she came. If I could, I would turn that heavenly sound into my ringtone.

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