Lust Thy Neighbor (21 page)

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Authors: Emily Snow

BOOK: Lust Thy Neighbor
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Jacob thought for a moment. "No. Not really. I've gotten used to it by now. Besides, having Violet around puts you in a better mood. You don't flip your shit when I spill something on the couch anymore."

He grimaced and he didn't exactly want to delve too deeply with Jacob exactly why he was in a 'better mood.'

"Do you think you could pick me from school up after you finish work today?"

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sipped. "Why?"

"I decided to try out for the swim club."

Declan's smile practically split his face in two. He finally felt like he was making progress and doing something right with his kid brother. "That's great!"

"Yeah, well, don't get too excited. This isn't exactly the swim team. It's more like the club. But maybe in the spring when tryouts start up again, I'll go for the team."

He was just damn glad his brother was getting involved with anything. Well, at least anything that didn't involve drugs and sex or a combination of the two. "Well, let me know if you need anything."

Jacob nodded but was already on his way back up the stairs.

*

V
iolet picked up her phone, juggling her turkey sandwich in one hand and her water bottle in the other. "Hello?"

"Hello, Miss Kelly."

"Declan! Hey." She plopped down on her desk chair and could barely stop the stupid grin from erupting on her face. She'd been with the man for months but the new glow of saying 'I love you' was still fresh from last night.

"So, I was thinking ... how would you like to spend the night over here?"

"Tonight?" she squeaked.

"Sure."

She picked at a piece of cheese and chewed. "We always stay at my place." And it was true. They always were cautious not to flaunt their relationship in front of Jacob. They kissed here and there, and Declan didn't hesitate to hold her hand or put his arm around her while they were all watching TV, but they were also careful to restrict all bedroom activity to her house.

"I know. But I want you in my bed.” In his territory. “All flushed and naked and ready for me."

Whoa. That one sentence sent a wave of heat straight to her core. "Really?" she managed to say.

His voice dropped low and she could hear the rumble through the phone. "I never did get that opportunity to take you in my shower. Remember the three massaging shower heads I told you about?"

Hell yes she remembered. "What about Jacob?"

"He has his own shower."

She laughed. "I meant, what about Jacob and me spending the night."

"He's too young for you. Plus, you're mine."

She huffed at him for deliberately misinterpreting the point. "Declan."

"Alright, alright. God, sweetheart, you're no fun."

"Teachers rarely are, haven't you heard?"

"The teacher I was with the other night was a handful of fun. Two handfuls, if I'm being completely honest.”

A wave of heat spread through her, but she flicked her tongue over her lips and said, “Stop being dirty and tell me what’s up.”

"I spoke with Jacob about it. Or rather—" He cleared his throat. "—he spoke to me about you. He caught me sneaking into the house this morning."

"Oh dear god, are you kidding?”

"No, it wasn't like that. He asked why you didn't spend the night at our place."

"Was he embarrassed? Or upset?"

"No, he seemed to think that I was being an idiot for keeping you away and sneaking around so much. And to quote him, it's not like he doesn't know we're getting it in.”

She groaned. "He didn't really say that, did he?"

"Well, I think he said 'sleep together' not 'getting it in.' But yeah, basically the same thing. So, what do you say? Dinner at my place? Then maybe I can finally show you where the magic hasn’t been happening?”

She snorted. "You're ridiculous."

"But you love me that way,” he said, his voice low and she found herself nodding for several seconds before she managed to answer him.

"Yes. Yes, I do,” she said.

Chapter Seventeen

"W
hen did Ernest Hemingway die?"

Declan looked up from his laptop where he was typing tomorrow's column and shrugged. "I don't know. Google it."

Jacob made a face. "Can’t you do it? Your computer's right there."

He sighed. Sometimes it took him twice the amount of time to finish an article. What with Jacob being too lazy to go upstairs and grab his own laptop. "1961. Why?"

"I'm writing a paper that compares the work of Hemingway to another contemporary writer."

"Oh."

They wrote in silence for another half hour with Jacob occasionally making a mess as he scribbled out something and then erased an entire paragraph, blowing the eraser remnants all across the table. Declan concentrated on his column, on a strike taking place at a local utility company, injecting his own commentary with the facts he had obtained from his interviews. When he was finished, he proofed, saved, and then emailed it off to his editor.

He got up to refill his coffee and his thoughts drifted to the upcoming holiday vacation. "Hey, what if we went home this Christmas?"

Jacob’s hand froze around his pencil and he lifted his head slowly. "What do you mean?"

"What if we flew to California, stayed near the beach, and just hung out?"

His brother’s hazel eyes darkened. "I'm not sure."

He was expecting that answer. They hadn’t been home since their parents’ funeral and this was the first time he’d suggested they go back. But he felt like it would be good for Jacob. After he explained the story about Christmas and his guilt over his parents' death during Thanksgiving, he felt like he needed some closure. Plus, she had mentioned something about the vacation coming up last night when they were lying in bed.

Declan smiled to himself as he took a drink of his coffee, recalling last night. It was the first time she had spent the night at his house and though they had spent the entire night actually sleeping, he had at least gotten to introduce her to his shower.

"Why do you want to go back to California now?" the younger brother stood up, his gaze firmly on Declan as he went to toss a piece of notebook paper into the trashcan.

“I thought it'd be nice. We haven't been back." Since Mom and Dad died, is what he left unsaid.

"I just thought we'd never go back."

"Why would you think that?"

"This is home now." Jacob went back to the kitchen table, looked in his binder, scribbled something else, and then erased another sentence.

Declan followed him, sitting down with his new cup of coffee. "You don't want to go?"

"No, it's not that...."

"We could escape the cold," Declan coaxed. He really felt like it would do them both good to get away for a while and go home. "I'm sure some of your friends would like to see you."

Jacob brightened up at that, as if he hadn't thought of it and Declan knew he had hooked him. "Maybe I can stay at David’s a few days?"

"Sure. We can arrange that with his parents."

"But what about you? I don't want you to be alone for Christmas."

Declan thought about his words for a moment. "I was thinking about asking Violet to come with us," he added. “Alice is going to the Bahamas and I don't want her to be alone.”

"Oh."

"Bad idea?" he asked.

"No." Jacob shook his head. "I think it's a good idea.” He sighed and swirled his spoon in his lukewarm bowl of soup. "You love her, right?"

He paused, trying to consider how to answer. He really didn't want to get Jacob's hopes up. But he didn't want to lie either. "I do."

"Does she love you?" his brother asked softly.

"Yes."

Jacob looked at Declan, his eyes serious. "Did she tell you that?"

Declan nodded.

"She's good for you."

"You think?" Declan asked, curiously. "Because I'm less of an asshole, as you put it?" Declan rolled his eyes, recalling one of the conversations they’d had about Violet.

"Not just that. I can tell."

"Tell what?"

Jacob shrugged. "That's she's the one and all that shit. You get this look in your eyes. Same one that Dad used to have when he looked at Mom and thought I wasn't looking."

Declan was so stunned he didn't even register the fact that Jacob had cursed again. Was Violet ‘The One’? That was a heavy label to put on anyone, even her. Sure, he loved her and was able to freely admit that. But ‘The One’?

"I wouldn't mind, you know,” his brother continued, not seeming to notice Declan’s shocked expression. “If you decided to marry her."

Declan could barely process the whole idea of Violet being it for him without feeling somewhat overwhelmed and now his brother was talking about marriage? Was that was he wanted? His chest felt like it was going to explode. Or constrict from lack of air.

And suddenly, seeing Jacob give him a look that was well beyond his fourteen years, Declan realized that he did. He did want that.

"Holy fucking shit." He dragged his hands through his messy hair and tilted his head back, hearing Jacob’s distinct laughter in the background.

"What? Don't tell me you weren't thinking it?"

"I really wasn't."

"Oh. Well." Jacob stuck a spoonful of soup into his mouth. "You should think about it. Might have to really work at convincing her." He lifted his shoulders just a fraction. "But she'd be good for you."

*

V
iolet lounged back in her bed, smiling at the sound of Declan humming Foo Fighter’s “Everlong” behind the half-closed door of the bathroom. When he started back toward the bed, she shivered at the look he gave her.

“What?” she whispered.

"Your mouth deserves an award, that’s what.” When she sank her teeth into her bottom lip and glanced away, he laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re still shy about that.” She made a little noise, and he added, "Why? Like I said, you need a fucking award for your tongue.”

"A big award?" she asked, turning to face him, unable to resist teasing him. His gaze dipped down his body, and she felt butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

As if reading her mind, he asked her, "What do you like?" When she hesitated, he pressed on, getting under the blankets with her and turning off the light, bathing the room in moonlight. "Tell me. I want to know."

"Everything," she whispered. He was close to her, lying on his side, facing her with their noses almost touching. She could feel his breathing against her cheek. “When you’re on top. When I’m on top. When you touch my—” She gasped when she felt his hand between her legs, and she squeezed her thighs around his fingers.

“Right here?" he asked, feeling a jolt of desire course through his own body when she bobbed her head.

“Yes. Right there.”

He rolled on top of her, one of his hands framing her face as he nudged her legs further apart with his other hand. "Like this?"

"Yes," she breathed. Violet could feel his arousal pressing into her. But he didn't push her for anything. He just seemed to be enjoying the moment like she was.

"You’re wet again." He kissed her, and she felt his tongue peek out to play with hers. She shifted, and then shivered when he slid a finger deep inside her, testing her need for him. A moment later, he replaced his finger with his erection, pushing into her slowly. "Fuck, you feel incredible."

He started to pull out, but she clenched her sex around him. "No, don't." He felt too good. Too right.

"Baby, I'm bare,” he said, even as his hips thrust deeper into her as if he couldn't help it.

She shook her head, the intimacy of the moment too great for her to stop moving her body against his. "I'm on the Pill."

He groaned. "Fucking peer pressure,” was the last thing he said before he pushed her legs over his shoulders and covered her mouth with his.

*

T
hey made breakfast from scratch, sharing lazy morning kisses over her waffle-maker, before she left for her last day of work for the week. It was Friday and she was looking forward to the weekend. While she loved spending time with Declan and his brother together, she was ecstatic that Jake would be staying the night with one of his new friends tomorrow night and that Declan would be all hers for the day.

Her phone vibrated and she glanced at the wall clock hanging on the wall facing her desk in the classroom. It was almost three o'clock. She had wasted a good chunk of time daydreaming again instead of finishing up the papers she was grading. Figuring it was Declan or Beck calling to chat, she accepted the call and answered cheerfully, "Hey."

"Violet?" The voice on the other end of the line made her freeze, her red pen suspended in midair. "Vi, are you there?” he repeated.

"Henry." To her surprise, her voice actually cracked when she said his name. Why the hell was he calling her? Tossing her pen on her desk, she massaged the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "What do you want?” she demanded.

"Violet." She heard a weary sigh. "I just wanted to talk to you."

Suddenly, she felt bad for initially snapping at him. After all, breaking up with him was the best thing that could have happened to her. If it weren't for their disastrous ending, she would have never moved. She would never have met Declan. She would have never fallen fast and hard.

"I'm sorry, I was being rude. Of course we can talk."

"How have you been?” he asked softly, his voice taking on that low tone he used to use to make her think he gave a damn about what she was saying. 

"I’ve been ... good." She grabbed the heart-shaped stress ball she kept in her top drawer, squeezing it with all her might. "Actually, I’ve been great. It's almost Christmas vacation and I'm really looking forward to it this year." Declan had asked her to join him and Jacob for Christmas last night before they fell asleep. When he added that they would be going to California and he’d even throw in a trip to Disneyland and a celebrity home tour, Violet had tackled him with a hug.

"Oh?” Her ex sounded surprised. “You have plans?"

Biting the inside of her cheek, she gripped her stress ball a little harder. "Yes, I might go to California."

There was a weighty pause then he asked, "By yourself? I know your grandmother had told my mother that Alice is going to the Bahamas this year."

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