Susie’s got her sights set on her new neighbor, a handsome, battle-hardened vet named Brady Firestone.
“Ugh!” I shriek, throwing my phone down on the bed. I roll over, frustrated that my best friend Marcella isn’t answering the phone. I stare at the fan on my ceiling and watch it go around and around.
It’s another boring Saturday in Remford, Iowa, a small, suburban town about a half hour outside of Des Moines. I live in a well-to-do, quiet neighborhood. Everyone has white picket fences, neatly manicured lawns, and everyone knows everyone. All of my neighbors are generally older, except for my new neighbor.
I haven’t met him yet, but my parents did a couple of weeks ago and said he was a nice and charming man. He recently served in one of the armed forces and moved into the house next door to start a nice quiet life. Hmm. Interesting. I wonder if he’s Army, Navy or Air Force? I’ve always had a thing for military men.
But that’s neither here nor there, because maybe our new neighbor is married with five kids. Veterans do tend to start families quite young after all, although come to think of it, I haven’t heard the sounds of any children.
I put it out of my mind and let out a big yawn before stretching my arms over my head. My parents are away for the afternoon, gambling at a nearby Indian casino. My dad is a bank teller and my mom volunteers at the library a few times a week. They’re older, in their fifties, and they’re gone a lot. I don’t have any siblings so it’s me by myself at home most of the time.
I blow out a puff of air in exasperation. When Marcella doesn’t answer the phone that means I have nothing to do. She is my best friend and has been since we were both freshmen at Remford High. We do everything together like cheer, student council and Junior League. We just finished our junior year and she decided to get a job for the summer, making her super unavailable for me. How annoying.
I even thought about working the same place that she does just so we could spend some more time together, but Marcella always seems so busy these days. As a result, I’m glad I didn’t apply. I just try to catch her on her days off instead.
I roll over on to my stomach and look out the window. The sun is shining bright outside and the blue sky is calling my name. I sit here, thinking of my options. Go outside or stay in?
I decide to read one of the books my mom brought home from the library. It’s the newest romance novel by my favorite author, Jillian Amada. I like reading and since I’m home alone a lot, books sometimes are my only company. I get lost in the characters’ lives and their love for one another. I admire how the characters fall in love slowly and have an irresistible lust for one another. Every time I read one of Ms. Amada’s books, I picture myself as the heroine, being swept up by a handsome knight in shining armor.
It’s silly, I know, but it’s the closest thing I have to a real romance. Might as well give it a read. I slide off my bed and wander over to my desk to pick up her newest release, which I’ve been eyeing for a while. This one has a shirtless, sweaty cowboy on the cover, and my mouth goes dry as I study his abs. They’re bronze and as hard as rock. I’d love to run my fingers over them in real life.
Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen anytime soon. Sighing, I head back to my bed, and throw a glance out my window. That’s when I see my new neighbor. Correction, my new HOT neighbor. Holy shit. Who is this? But before I can even take him in fully, my phone starts ringing.
I quickly glance at it and snatch it off my bed, not even checking to see who is calling me. “Hello,” I answer, not taking my eyes off this masculine Michelangelo outside.
“Hey girl, sorry I missed your call. I just got off work. What’s up?” Marcella asks from the other side.
I don’t hesitate.
“Girl, my neighbor next door…he’s…I just…wow…oh my GOD,” I stammer into the phone. I can’t rip my eyes off his beautifully sculpted body or his chiseled face. He has black hair, tan skin and arms that bulge when he works.
My friend giggles.
“Oh, the guy that’s been there for like a month? This is your first time seeing him? Tell me about him!”
I pant a little, wiping sweat from my brow.
“Well, I was coming over to grab my book because YOU didn’t answer the phone. I happened to look out the window and now I can’t stop looking at him. He’s outside in his driveway, working on his Jeep right now-”
“Hold up, he’s got a Jeep? Okay check. What else?” Marcella asks excitedly over the phone.
“He’s tall and so handsome. His black hair is shining in the sun and he’s got these charming crinkles around his eyes. I think they’re blue? I can’t see from here,” I say squinting through my window, trying to get a better look at this man who now lives a mere fifty feet away.
“Crinkles? Is he old?” Marcella asks disdainfully.
I roll my eyes. “I mean no older than thirty…maybe thirty-five?”
“Susie, that’s old,” Marcella says laughing on the other end. She can be so close-minded sometimes. I love her, but that’s a quality that clashes with my free spirt.
“Anyways…oh,” I say, suddenly getting quiet.
“Oh? Oh what?”
I feel my legs almost give out and I lean into my desk for support. My neighbor has just taken his shirt off and I can’t even answer Marcella, I’m so in awe of his broad chest and his perfectly molded abs.
“Hello, is anyone there?” Marcella calls out from the other end.
“Oh, sorry I just got so distracted! He just took his shirt off and oh my,” I murmur slack-jawed.
“It’s that good?” she asks from the other side. “I’m getting worried, Susie. What’s going on?”
I let out a muffled gurgle.
“Good doesn’t even come close to describing it, girlfriend. He has to work out. Nobody gets a body like that without putting in some serious time in the gym,” I tell her.
My eyes trace every inch of my new neighbor’s hot body. “And as if his body weren’t already perfect, he’s covered in tattoos! Like covered all over his muscular chests and his big strong arms. I’ve never seen a man so sexy. Holy shit, I’m going to pass out.”
Marcella squeals on the other side.
“Wow, and you live right next to this man? Lucky duck! I wish I had a neighbor that looked that that instead of Mrs. Gladys.” She keeps talking but I don’t even hear her.
Sweat is running in rivulets off my new neighbor’s body and he glistens in the bright sun. He wipes his face with his shirt then tucks it into his waistline. His cargo shorts sit loosely on his hips, the band of his briefs wrapping tightly around his muscular lower abs.
My eyes look over the bottom half of his body. He turns around and I see the tightness of his muscular butt. His strong legs also glisten with sweat in the sun. He squats in front of his Jeep and I watch his broad shoulders flex as he wipes off the front his car. I almost feel like he’s taunting me by putting on this display! My cheeks flush.
I listen half-heartedly to Marcella rattling on about her senile neighbor. At this rate I’m going to miss my chance to finally meet this man, so I cut off my best friend.
“Marc? I have to go. I’ll talk to you later!” I hang up quickly, ignoring the sounds of her protests.
I stare out my window again at the masterpiece that now lives next door. He’s standing and is facing my house, drinking a bottle of water. His wide chest and muscular arms shine brightly in the June sun.
All I want to do was run my hands all over his body like a woman savoring a sculpture of David. I have to figure out how to talk to him. But who am I kidding? It’s wrong for me to want such a mature man in this way. Marcella may have a point. He is older but still, thirty-five looks good on this man. In fact, he looks better than every man I know, regardless of age.
I shake the thought from my head again. Why would my new neighbor take interest in me? He’s obviously godawful gorgeous, and probably has a ton of supermodels hanging off his every word. Meanwhile, I’m just me. Susie Monroe, with the curly brown hair and too-curvy body. I’m no Cindy Crawford, that’s for sure.
Plus, I’m still in high school, so would he even be into that? Even worse, I’m still a virgin and have never let anyone get past the lightest petting session. That time with Curly Phillips was fucking awful. His hands were clammy and he wanted to go to third base, but I said no. I want to save myself for someone special. Someone who lights up my whole body, and who doesn’t make me recoil the way Curly did.
But it doesn’t matter. This man next door can absolutely have any woman he chooses. I’m just a nobody, right?
Unfortunately, my body desperately wants him. The worst he can do is say no, and put me off. I can handle that, hopefully.
I see him walking towards his garden and I start thinking furiously. An idea jumps into my head, and I rifle through my drawers to find the skimpiest tank top and shorts I can find. Without putting on a bra, I pull on the thin halter top and change into a red lacy thong. It’s silly because I know he can’t see it, but the racy lingerie makes me feel so brave and daring. I slide some revealing, black terry cloth shorts on over the thong and wiggle my ass a bit.
I look at myself in the mirror. My nipples poke out ever so softly through my white tank top. I adjust the spaghetti straps, so my large breasts sit perky and bounce ever so slightly. I turn around and check out my ass. The bottoms of my round cheeks hang out ever so slightly. Perfect.
After looking at my curvy reflection one last time, I run to the bathroom and grab a brush. I run it through my long, curly brown hair and let my curls flow down my back. I brighten up my lips with a small swipe of lip gloss. After throwing on a few strokes of mascara, I look at myself in the mirror.
I look older and more mature. If I’m going to get this grown man’s attention, I can’t look like a kid after all. I have to look like the adult woman that I am, and bring a luscious woman’s assets to the table for him to enjoy.
I run down the stairs and look through the kitchen window over the sink. I see my new neighbor pruning flowers in his backyard. The light hits him squarely, illuminating that broad, bronzed back. In fact, this is perfect because he’s kneeling in front of the bushes that line the fence separating our two yards. It’s time to put my plan in motion.
To be continued …
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