The Pucker Next Door Read Online Sara Ney

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, New Adult, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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I feel my own eyes go wide. Shit. I hadn’t realized when I said that what the implication was.

Fuck.

“I would never…” Am I stuttering, cause it sounds like I am? “I didn’t mean…”

Lizzy lets out another laugh, this time, it’s loud. And her head is tipped back. She raises a hand and strokes my cheek.

“Oh you poor thing, I’m teasing.” She takes another drink. “But seriously, maybe we should do that one night.” Sip. “You know, go to the bar or something.”

If that’s what she wants to do, I guess that’s what we’re going to do.

I give her a nod. “Okay.”

“Only because that’s what everyone does around here and honestly, I would love to see you out of your comfort zone.”

“I do lots of things that aren’t in my comfort zone.”

She scrunches up her face. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like…helping you.”

Lizzy guffaws. “Knock it off, you would have helped me no matter what. Next.”

I think. “Playing naked board games.”

“You weren’t naked.”

“Okay but I could have been naked.”

She gives me that. “Yeah—I feel like we could have done that differently. Like. Maybe we should have had to take clothes off after getting our moves blocked not when we lost.”

“Never in a million years would I have suggested that,” I mutter, taking a healthy swig of my beer.

She watches my throat, before taking a sip. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”

“You like me?” I ask dumbly. “Since when?”

“Since…” She presses her body against mine. “Since I was a damsel in distress and you rescued me.”

I snort. “You did not need rescuing. You could have handled that whole thing on your own.” Which is one thing I like about her.

“How do you know I didn’t need rescuing?” She kisses the side of my neck, nuzzling it, causing my junk to stir. He’s listening intently to every word she’s uttering.

“Because you’re strong and independent?”

She likes that, humming in her chest. It reaches my eardrum and causes me to shiver.

“Am I though? Sometimes I want someone big and strong to pick me up.” Lizzy sets her cup on the counter behind me and runs her hands over my biceps. Squeezes. “Someone who could probably bench press me.”

I could totally bench press her but I’m not the bragging kind.

Instead, I nod. “Uh huh.”

“Rawr,” she makes a sound in her throat, giving my muscles another squeeze, hands wandering over my chest. Down my stomach, fingers sneaking under the hem of my shirt. “Your abs aren’t the only thing I like about you.”

Oh?

They’re not? Cause they’re not that great, if you want my opinion. I’m in good shape but I’m not like, a meat head. I’m not in the gym working out as often as I should be and I could step it up a notch and eat a bit healthier.

But whatever. That’s not her point.

“What else do you like about me?”

“I like how sweet you are.”

“You think I’m sweet?” This is news to me. I do not consider myself sweet or nice or any of those other descriptive words that mean a dude is dull.

“What’s wrong with the word sweet? As soon as I said it, you made a face like you had to shit your pants.”

My mouth falls open. Her words are always shocking me—mostly because they’re coming out of someone so dainty and delicate.

“For your information, I’d rather be with someone who treats me like I’m special than someone who treats me like they’re waiting for the next best thing to come along.”

I feel my brow go up. “Is that what you mean by sweet?”

Her head bobs up and down. “Yes, obviously.”

“Oh. That doesn’t sound so terrible,” I grumble.

Lizzy presses her boobs into my chest, leaning on me for support. “When did you know you liked me?”

I should have known she was going to ask me this in kind; turnabout it only fair.

“Uh.” Do I admit that I’ve liked her since the second I saw them moving into the house next door? And do I admit that, had she not come over asking for help, I never would have spoken to her.

“What makes you think I like you?” I tease, moving a piece of her hair out of her face, using any excuse to touch her.

She smacks me on the pec. “Don’t be an asshole. Answer the question.”

“I…guess when you moved in?”

She pauses.

Leans back to get a better look at me.

“Wait. What?”

“When you moved in, I guess?”

“Hold up.” She waves a hand between our bodies. “You liked me when we moved in? How?”

My shoulders lift. Up then down. “I don’t know—I saw you and thought you were cute.”

“But that was like…months ago.”

Yeah, it was months ago. “I just thought you were cute. Obviously I didn’t know you.”

Obviously.

“Why on earth didn’t you say anything?”

“Uh—because you’re our neighbor and I didn’t want to make it weird? Should I have walked over, knocked on the door and asked you out?”



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