Breaking Even (Sterling Shore 5)

She’s always been my quiet neighbor until this past week. Then she turned into my enemy. Then it became a fun war that excites and infuriates me in the same breath. But until this moment, I’ve never thought about her as anything more.

There’s something about touching her, feeling her body fold to mine as we both squash our feud for a few songs... My mind is in all the wrong places. And that can’t happen. We’re neighbors.

I have two rules: Don’t fuck where you live or where you work. I’m not breaking those rules because of how good her ass feels against me right now, or because she knows exactly how to drive me out of my fucking mind with her hips.

I never expected this, and I’m kicking Wren’s ass later for putting me in this mind-fuck.

My lips brush her ear as the seductive music drives us. I don’t dance. I fucking hate dancing unless the promise of sex is there. Why did I even suggest this?

She’s so short that I have to bend every time I want my lips to touch her, and I stick to her ear because it seems safe enough. “You want a drink?” I ask when I come too damn close to taking her neck instead of her ear.

“Yeah,” she says, grinning as she turns around. “Then you have to dance with me some more. This is fun.”

I can’t help but smile, because I’ve never seen someone so happy about something so small as dancing. If I could move without being in pain, I’d dance with her all night. But my cock needs a break.

“Come on,” I say, laughing when she starts dancing all by herself.

I take her hand and we weave through the crowd to where our group is gathered in a corner booth. Unfortunately, two familiar faces are walking up to join them. Shit. Now Kode and Tria are here. He really hates me.

“Brin!” Tria says excitedly, waving and drawing the attention of blonde douche as well. Crap.

Kode’s eyes narrow on me just as Tria pulls him behind her to meet us when we reach the stairs to the elevated area. Brin and Tria hug and talk, both of them smiling. Then Ash calls to her.

Brin takes the shot glass handed to her by Ash, and she shoots it quickly. But her adorable scowl forms, and I can’t help but stifle a laugh. Tag hands me a glass of whiskey. Correction, scotch.

“You two sitting down or dancing some more?” Ash asks, her grin growing.

They’re getting the wrong idea. Brin might be making me hard, but I’m not fucking her. She’s just my neighbor.

“Dancing,” Brin says with a laugh, tugging my hand and forcing my drink to slosh over the edges. I’m forced down the stairs by her surprisingly strong grip, but I don’t fight her.

I chuckle as I follow her, wishing I wasn’t having such a damn good time. It’s so... easy right now. Since I’m not trying to fuck her, there’s no pressure to be suave or persuasive. I can just dance and pretend as though the growth in my pants isn’t painful.

This would be a lot more fun if her ass didn’t feel so good on my crotch. When she laughs for no reason other than the fact she’s having fun, I can’t help but smile. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her smile when she wasn’t torturing me. It’s actually a damn good smile.

***

RYE

After forty minutes, I’m sweating and my dick is begging for mercy. We’ve downgraded from liquor to beer, both of us holding our fresh bottles while we dance on the floor. I lean down just as Brin turns around.

“Ow!” she screeches while grabbing her head.

I mimic the reaction, rubbing the sore spot she left on me after our skulls collide. Fucking hell. As if the alcohol wasn’t going to leave me with a painful enough headache.

“We called truce,” she growls, staggering a little from the large amount of alcohol she has put inside her small body.

“You think I did that on purpose?” I ask incredulously.

She steps toward me, her spiteful little glower almost making me laugh. Almost. I’m distracted when she presses her tits against me in order to try and be intimidating.

She’s not intimidating. Not even a little bit.

She looks past me, and then glances down at her watch. “Ah, hell. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

I glance down at my phone to check the time, and frown. It’s not even ten yet.

“Late?” I ask as she staggers again.