14. Nico
fourteen
Nico
That filthy little liar.
She was totally checking out my ass. I don’t even think she realized how she licked her lips while her eyes were glued to my glutes.
Blood rushes south, and my cock twitches.
Fuck.
I need to get away from her before she sees what she’s doing to me or I do something crazy, like hop over the divide to her balcony and fuck her on that chaise she’s lying on.
“Goodnight, vicious.” I leave a speechless Savannah on the balcony and return to my apartment.
My dick is hard as a fucking rock and in desperate need of some relief.
I walk straight to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and climb under the spray. My burning-hot skin doesn’t even care that the water is cold. I squeeze a drop of body wash onto my palm and wrap it around my hard length.
Slowly, I work my fist up and down, lathering the soap with each stroke. My fist glides over my tip and rubs the two barbells of my piercing, sending sparks of pleasure through me.
This is new to me. I’ve never had to go jerk off after just talking to a woman.
Not talk, verbally spar with. The spirited woman next door has me so fucking hard up for her and her sassy mouth.
It would be too easy to believe that not having had sex in a couple of weeks is the problem. But that’s a fucking lie.
Savannah is the reason I haven’t had sex.
I’m not being cocky when I say there are plenty of ready and willing women out there. All I need is one line to pick up a woman. “I play professional baseball”, and it’s like catnip. Panties drop. But not with the feisty kitten next door. She doesn’t give one damn.
Neither does my cock. He wants her. There has been no movement in my cockle region for anyone other than Savannah.
My dick twitches in my palm like he knows I’m thinking about her and her sassy-as-fuck mouth.
Maybe that’s the problem.
It’s always been too easy for me with women. And Savannah is anything but easy. I’ve never been so attracted to a woman that it’s driven me crazy. Not only do I want to fuck her, but I want to kiss her. I want to taste her sharp tongue as I devour her mouth with mine.
Savannah is all I think about. I’m so mentally preoccupied by her that every other woman no longer exists in my world.
That’s fucking crazy talk right there.
And yet, my dick throbs in approval as I stroke it faster.
“Fuck,” I moan.
Closing my eyes, I picture Savannah on her knees, her amber-colored eyes staring up at me and her sassy little mouth open wide as I feed her my dick.
I can’t wait to shut her up and make her choke on a mouthful of my cock.
To feel her silky, wet tongue flick the cool metal balls protruding through top and bottom of my tip as she sucks me off.
My vision quickly morphs to her laid out on my bed, her arms and legs tied to each post as I eat her out. Because Savannah’s mouth is so damn sharp, I bet her pussy tastes like spicy honey glaze. My balls tingle at that thought, and I can practically taste her on my tongue.
The telltale sign of my orgasm creeps closer as the tingling sensation in my balls spreads up my shaft. Grinding my molars, I slam a hand on the cool tile wall to brace myself and give in to the feeling.
I explode with her name on my tongue as cum flies out of me like a cannon and splatters against the shower wall and floor.
I stroke myself through my orgasm, squeezing every drop of cum out of me and hopefully draining my balls. My vision is dark and hazy as I open my eyes and come back down to earth. It takes a minute for me to adjust to the light as my vision returns, and my breathing slows.
“Fucking hell.” I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.
Savannah Winters has turned me into a crazed man.
She has no idea what kind of fire she ignited inside me, but it is raging. I’m going to fucking have her.
Since I laid eyes on Savannah, I’ve had this undeniable pull towards her, and I don’t want to fight it. I want to run headfirst into it.
I have a feeling once I fuck her, that will be it. I’ll be done for, and she’ll be mine.
That shit should scare me. I’ve never been that guy.
The one to settle down. I’ve fought the notion of relationships at every turn, too afraid I’ll end up like my scumbag of a father.
Then I met Savannah. The sassy woman with fiery eyes and a razor-sharp tongue who likes to knock me down a peg and remind me I’m just a man, not a god.
Fuck if I don’t love it.
Savannah has flipped some hidden switch inside me. I want to be just a man to her. For her.
Fucking hell.
I let those ludicrous thoughts marinate in the back corner of my mind as I finish washing myself, enjoying the hot water as it rains down on me. The two-person steam shower with charcoal slate tiles was one of the best choices I made when I was designing this apartment.
When I first bought the building, I was going to turn the entire top floor into one enormous apartment. At the last minute, I changed my mind and ended up splitting it in two. I’m so glad I did. If I didn’t, Savannah wouldn’t be next door.
After my shower, I brush my teeth, put lotion on my face, put specialty lotion on my tats to keep them from fading, and climb into bed naked. I can’t help but toss and turn beneath the cool Egyptian cotton sheets.
My mind goes over every interaction I’ve had with Savannah with a fine-tooth comb. For whatever reason, she is not my biggest fan. And yet, she’s still attracted to me.
I can work with that.
A plan takes shape in my head, and I smirk to myself. I’m going to make Savannah want me the way I want her. Then I’m going to punish my sassy little kitten for talking about other men.
That’s my last thought before I finally drift off to sleep.
When my alarm goes off the next morning, I’m wide awake, and ready to implement my plan. I’m invigorated by what I’ve got up my sleeve.
I climb out of bed and slip on a pair of black boxer briefs.
After I brush my teeth and run my fingers through my hair, I check the building’s security cameras to make sure Savannah hasn’t left for work.
When I confirm she’s still in her apartment, I turn my music on loud enough for her to hear and step out onto the balcony with the door open.
Stage One: Give the neighbor a glimpse of the perfect view.
I leave for the road tonight, and I want my pretty little neighbor to think about me in nothing but my boxer briefs while I’m gone.
Normally, I do yoga at the training facility, but today I think the perfect spot for some downward-facing dog is out on the balcony. As close to Savannah’s side as I can get, I roll out my yoga mat and stand at the top. Raising my hands overhead, I exhale and bend at my hips, reaching for my toes.
The tension in my lower back eases as I take a few deep breaths.
Then I move into my next pose. I’ve been doing yoga for years, and it really helps with my mobility.
Being a catcher is hard on the lower body.
Squatting for multiple hours a day is not for the faint of heart.
More people should practice yoga. And men who talk smack about it are idiots.
While it doesn’t make me any less short-tempered or calm, it makes me limber as fuck.
Which comes in handy in the bedroom, if you know what I mean.
Movement from Savannah’s side of the balcony catches my eye, and I grin to myself. Adrenaline kicks in, and my heart pumps faster. Even my dick stands at attention. All because she’s watching.
That’s right; enjoy the view. This is just for you, Savannah.