Under Lock and Lace (Ready for Anything (Transgender Women and Feminized Men Romance Stories))

Under Lock and Lace

I’d seen her a few times around our apartment complex.

She had a fluffy little white dog she took outside regularly, usually trotting several steps ahead of her on its tiny leash.

But I barely noticed the dog. My eyes were always fixed on her perfect curves as she walked down the street, the gentle sway of her hips making it almost impossible to look anywhere else.

We were neighbors, but I didn’t even know her name.

And I knew I was far too much of a pussy to ever walk up and talk to her.

I’d never been the kind of guy who could casually hit on a woman or ask one out without overthinking every word.

I usually sat in a corner somewhere, hoping and praying they’d notice me and come over first.

But none of them ever did.

I’d pretty much accepted that I’d be alone all my life—awkward, introverted, and too afraid of rejection to do anything about it.

But fate had other plans.

One stormy afternoon, I stood on my porch, fumbling through my damp pockets and searching for my keys. Cold rain blew beneath the narrow awning, speckling my clothes and dripping from the ends of my dark hair.

Shit, I thought when I couldn’t remember grabbing them.

I twisted the doorknob several times, hoping that maybe I’d forgotten to lock the door too. But it didn’t budge. I leaned my weight against it and tried again, as though sheer desperation might somehow force it open.

Nothing.

I pulled a card from my wallet and tried sliding it through the crack beside the latch—anything to get inside and out of the freezing rain—but the card bent uselessly beneath my fingers. Nothing was working, and I was quickly running out of pathetic ideas.

That was when I heard her voice.

“Do you need some help?” she asked.

I glanced toward the sweetest voice I’d ever heard.

It was her.

My sexy neighbor.

She was standing on her porch with an umbrella in one hand and a dog leash in the other.

She’d apparently just come inside from walking her tiny ball of fluff.

Raindrops sparkled against the umbrella above her, and her blond, wavy hair framed the neckline of her tight pink shirt in the most delicious way.

The soft fabric hugged her breasts and waist, emphasizing every curve I’d admired from a distance.

“Um, no,” I lied, waving her off.

But hope immediately began building inside me, hot and nervous beneath my embarrassment.

“I just…um…I locked myself out.”

She giggled, and it sounded like music. A bright, sweet little song I wanted to play over and over again.

“I’ve locked myself out more times than I’d like to admit,” she said. “Have you called a locksmith?”

I felt a wall go up inside me.

Was she brushing me off? Had I imagined the warmth in her voice?

“No, I haven’t,” I said. “But I need to.”

“Yes, you do.” She smiled, and some of the tension loosened in my chest. “Why don’t you come inside?” she added, gesturing toward her apartment. “You can call someone and stay dry while you wait.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” I said.

Relief and panic flooded through me at the same time.

I wanted to spend time with her more than anything, but I also knew that the more she got to know me, the more boring she might think I was.

From a distance, I could pretend I had a chance.

Once I opened my mouth, that illusion could disappear in seconds.

“I don’t know if I should,” I added, immediately wondering what the hell was wrong with me.

Go over there, you asshole. She just invited you. This might be your only chance.

“What else are you going to do?” she asked. “Come on. I insist.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Would you just get over here already?”

My feet started moving before the rest of me had made a decision. I came closer and closer to her porch until I was standing right beside her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body against the wet chill in the air.

She smiled and cocked one brow as though I were some strange, peculiar species she’d never encountered before. Then she tilted her umbrella so it covered both of us. Her shoulder nearly brushed my arm.

“You’re not like other guys, are you?”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Well, guys are usually begging to come into my place. But with you, I was the one begging you to come over.”

My heart raced.

She wasn’t really begging me, but the idea of it still made my cock swell inside my briefs. The thought of a woman like her wanting me inside her apartment—wanting me anywhere near her—sent a rush of heat through my body.

If only she knew I hadn’t asked to come over because I was too damn shy and too tired of rejection to risk giving her the chance to say no.

“Shame on me,” she said suddenly. “I didn’t stop to consider that you might be gay.”

“I’m not!” I cried out desperately.

Then I quickly closed my mouth.

The words had come out much louder than I’d intended, and I feared I’d already made a giant fool of myself. My face burned as I stared at her, unable to think of anything that might make the moment less embarrassing.

She giggled again, and my heart warmed at the sound.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I believe you.”

She opened her door and gently tugged on the dog’s leash. Her fluffy white dog scurried inside, shaking tiny droplets of water from its fur. The girl bent down to unhook the leash, and my eyes dropped before I could stop them, catching the way her jeans stretched over her round ass.

“My name is Alexis, by the way,” she said as I stepped inside behind her.

“I’m Colin.”

The warm scent of cloves hit me as soon as the door closed, pulling my attention away from her body. I breathed it in and glanced around her place.

It was neat and clean without feeling sterile.

The living room had a bright, airy quality despite the gray afternoon outside.

Her furniture was made of natural-looking, breathable fabrics and pale wood, with distressed surfaces and rustic details that made everything feel soft and lived-in.

A knitted blanket was folded neatly over the back of the couch, and a few decorative pillows sat arranged beneath it.

Something about the space made me feel instantly at home, even though my own apartment was filled with mismatched thrift-store furniture I’d collected whenever I needed something cheap.

“Colin,” she said from behind me.

I’d stepped farther into the room without realizing it, distracted as I inspected her space.

“I like that name.”

I turned to face her and ran a hand through my soft, damp hair. “Well, I like Alexis,” I said.

I cursed myself under my breath the moment the words left my mouth. I wondered if it sounded as stupid to her as it did to me—like I didn’t have a single original thought in my head and could only repeat whatever she said.

Alexis smiled politely, and I immediately wondered if she was already beginning to think I was some kind of weirdo.

“You’re welcome to change out of those clothes if you want,” she said.

She hung the leash on a hook beside the door, then pointed her dog toward a small pink bed in the corner. The fluffy animal turned in a circle before curling up against the cushion.

“I’m sure I have something you could wear.”

My back tensed.

The thought of wearing a girl’s clothes—even if they were nothing more than baggy sweatpants and an oversized shirt—made my entire body flush with heat. The reaction was immediate and humiliating, tightening my stomach as something strange and forbidden stirred inside me.

“Um, that’s okay,” I said. “I’ll just keep wearing these.”

My wet clothes clung uncomfortably to my skin, but that somehow seemed safer than letting her dress me in something of hers.

“Oh, nonsense,” she said.

She walked toward me and took my hand.

“Come with me. We’ll find you something.”

I couldn’t help smiling as her soft, warm fingers closed around mine, even while the panic of wearing her clothes grew stronger inside me. Her hand felt small and smooth against my own, and the casual intimacy of her touch left me almost dizzy.

She led me down a short hallway and into her bedroom.

Her room had the same light, airy feeling as the living room, only softer and more intimate. Everything inside it felt unmistakably feminine, and standing there with Alexis’s hand still wrapped around mine made my pulse pound even harder.

“I love your place,” I said almost without thinking.

It might’ve been a small thing, but it was the first sentence I’d managed to say to her without picking it apart in my head first. I hadn’t rehearsed it or wondered whether it sounded stupid. It was genuine and easy, and for once, the words came out exactly the way I wanted them to.

“Thanks,” she said.

Alexis turned toward me and gripped the damp hem of my baggy T-shirt. Before I fully understood what she was doing, she started lifting it over my stomach. The panic finally caught up with me.

I reached for her wrists, ready to tell her to stop, but she was too fast. The wet fabric was already sliding over my chest and shoulders, and a second later, it was pulled up over my head.

It wasn’t that I minded her taking off my shirt. The feeling of her undressing me was almost too good to believe.

It was knowing she could see me now.

She could see my bare torso and how little muscle there was beneath my pale skin. My chest wasn’t broad or hard, and my stomach didn’t have the definition other guys seemed to have without even trying. My cheeks flushed hot as her eyes moved slowly over me.

“You have a beautiful complexion,” she said, running her fingertips across my chest.

Her touch was light and warm, leaving a faint trail of tingling skin behind it.

“You probably have a million girls chasing after you.”

A startled burst of laughter broke out of me. “No,” I said. “Not exactly.”

Alexis shrugged as if she couldn’t understand why. “Well, then they don’t know what they’re missing,” she said with a wink.

Her fingers moved down to my pants, and I tensed all over again.

This time, though, I didn’t want to fight her.