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But there’s no way I want him to see inside our house either, even if he has already. I don’t want him associating me with our house. My dad’s house really.
He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckling that he’ll wait right where he is, and tells me not to hurry.
“We’ve got all day, haven’t we?” he asks, probing me again to make sure he’s not stopping me from doing anything else.
“I’m all yours for today if need be.” I try and joke, but the intense look in his eyes and the low sound he makes as I leave the house leaves me wondering if I shouldn’t take some time and freshen up a little.
Maybe shower, change my outfit.
Maybe touch myself until I break free of this feeling he’s bringing out in me.
Jesus, Krystal. Where on earth are you getting this stuff from?
I almost break my ankle speeding from Blake’s house to ours, fumbling for my key and looking at the way my hands are trembling, feeling nothing but butterflies in my belly and a tingle in between my legs that goes all the way up to my core when I think about him.
I try to tell myself it’s just coffee. That he’s just our neighbor, but it’s no use.
I can feel it already.
My emotions. They’re all totally out of control when it comes to Blake Mason.
Catching a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, I almost faint.
I look like hell.
Or is it just that Blake looks so damned good?
Looking so fresh and like nothing ever fazes him. Like he doesn’t have a single problem in the whole world.
Maybe he doesn’t, but surely running a magazine must be hard work. It must be stressful. My last boss and half the employees were stressed to the max. Myself included by the time I left and that was only after two months.
I wash my face and fix my hair a little better.
Would he prefer it up or down?
And should I have a shower, what about my bath later on?
This is the kind of thinking the man generates in me and I’ve only just met him.
I don’t know if I can live next door to him, to be honest. I’m already feeling things I’ve never really felt before and the day’s not even over yet.
I settle for keeping my hair up and skipping the shower. I was only supposed to be zipping next door to get us some coffee anyway.
A spritz of my special occasion only perfume and a raid of our own meager coffee supply sees me almost skipping back to Blake’s.
The thought of seeing him again even after just a few minutes gives me a thrill I can’t get used to.
I stop at his mailbox and fish out what looks like a few days’ worths. Or maybe he just gets a lot of—
Nathaniel Macy.
Nate Macy.
Mr. N. Macy.
Mr. Nathan Macy.
For the attention of Mr. Macy…
There’s a ton of mail here and all with someone else’s name on it.
Nothing here for Blake Mason. Not a single thing.
Not even any junk mail.
I frown at it, feeling a little shocked. But then I remember two things. This isn’t Blake’s house and most important. It’s none of my damned business.
I ring the bell at his front door rather than being too familiar, noting it takes Blake some time to answer.
When he does I gasp out loud, dropping the mail. Standing there as my shock shifts to a different part of my brain.
The man’s naked from the waist up and I become acutely aware of my jaw dropping as I do nothing but stare at his perfect abs. His V line and his massive chest and shoulders.
“You okay?” he asks, leaning down to scoop up the mail, giving me a perfect view of his chiseled back which flexes in time with another stupid sound I hear myself making.
He’s perfectly tanned too, by the way.
The type of body you wouldn’t see on someone half his age, let alone—
“Krystal? You okay?” he asks again. “You don’t have to ring the bell. Anytime, just come on in. I mean it,” he says, glancing at the mail and making a face.
I feel myself moving inside again and he closes the door with his foot, holding up the mail as he walks towards the stairs.
“I keep getting this guy’s mail. Really need to do something about that,” he sighs loudly.
“Back in a sec. I’m just trying to find a clean shirt. Feel free to put that coffee on,” he calls out over his shoulder.
I have to lean against the wall once he’s out of sight, straining to get enough air.
My chest feels like it’ll shatter if my nipples scratch the fabric of my shirt. My sex feels like it’s about to explode.
A heat I’ve never known is coursing through my whole body. My legs start to shake and I wonder what the hell is wrong with me on the one hand.
