The Good Neighbor (14 page)

I put my hand lightly to her skin. I wanted
desperately to squeeze her tits, but they were hidden from me in
the position she was lying. I slid my hand down her side to her
ass. I grabbed a handful and squeezed. The feel of her plump cheek
in my hand made me want more.

My heart banged in my chest now, and it was
an absolute fight to keep my breathing under control. A few beads
of sweat dripped off the tip of my nose and fell to the bed.
Luckily, they landed on covers and not on the broad.

I put my knees against the side of the bed
and my left hand on the wall to steady myself as I leaned farther
over the bed. I reluctantly let go of her ass with my right hand
and put it between her legs. Her right leg was thrown across Owen,
making it easy for me to get to her crotch from the back.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her ass as I felt
my way around her crotch. When I felt her warmth, I nearly lost all
control of myself. I shuddered and froze, determined not to have an
orgasm this way. Not yet. I hadn’t waited this long and suffered
this much to finish like this.

I shoved my fingers inside her as deep as I
could. I wasn’t gentle in any way. I wanted to be stealthy to
prolong this adventure without waking either of them, but it had
gotten me so hot, I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t even care
anymore if that damn Owen woke up. An animal urge was building in
me and I wasn’t sure I could control it. I didn’t really care. All
I cared about was what I wanted. And what I wanted was the
broad.

I wiggled my fingers around inside her,
feeling her warm and sticky juices. She moaned.

Suddenly, my knees buckled. I lurched
forward, my hand dropping from the wall to the bed, landing on a
pillow. I made a fist, crushing the pillow in my hand.

I gasped.

I released my death grip on the pillow and
clutched my dick. I didn’t have to do much. Just a squeeze or
two.

I gasped again, louder this time, not caring
that I would be heard.

I wiggled my fingers harder as my aching
boner finally exploded. It seemed to last forever. I had saved this
for her. I couldn’t remember a time when it felt this good to blow
my load. It was probably because I’d waited too damn long.

I was dizzy. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying
the moment and waiting for the dizziness to pass.

A combination of my sweat and cum soaked into
her bed covers now. I looked down at it, trying to focus my eyes.
My breathing came and went in raspy huffs.

I became aware now that my fingers weren’t
inside her any more. Instead, they lay on the bed, wet with the
combination of her and Owen’s juices.

I smiled.

I looked up just in time to see Owen swing a
golf club at my head.

I pressed myself as tightly as possible
against the headboard. I covered myself with my arms as much as I
could and watched as Owen hit Bernie in the head with the golf
club.

Bernie, distracted by the disgusting sight of
his hand lying on the bed, didn’t see it coming in time to defend
himself in any way. The club connected solidly with a thud, and
Bernie fell onto the bed, landing in the mess he’d just made. I
pulled my legs closer to my chest to avoid being crushed by
him.

Owen cussed at Bernie furiously. Seeing that
he was unconscious, Owen saw his opportunity. He jerked on his
jeans and shoes while asking me if I was okay.

I nodded, though I was pretty sure I wasn’t
okay. Not emotionally or psychologically anyway. I’d have to deal
with that later, after Bernie was gone.

Owen began dragging Bernie through the
house.

As soon as they were out of the room, I
jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. I jumped into a hot
shower, scrubbing myself again and again, especially where Bernie
had touched me.

Leaving the water running, I got out of the
shower and rifled through the cabinets until I found what I was
looking for. I needed this. If I was ever going feel clean inside
again, I had to douche.

Through tears that seemed endless, I did
everything I could to make myself feel as clean as possible. I knew
I’d never erase the feeling of Bernie’s fat, stubby, filthy fingers
in me, but this was a start.

With shaky hands, I dressed. I ripped the bed
covers off the bed and threw them to the floor. I’d burn them in
the morning.

But now, I ran downstairs to see if Owen
needed me.

I didn’t usually have trouble sleeping.
Normally, once my head hit the pillow that was all I knew until
morning. But things were different now.

I was still upset that I hadn’t been able to
talk to Andy yet. It was always something. Either he wasn’t home or
I wasn’t home or one of us was asleep or something. I was
frustrated and angry at the situation, but not at either of us.
Things happen for a reason. When the time was right, I’d be able to
tell him. I had to keep telling myself this so I wouldn’t go
rushing into the bedroom screaming at the top of my lungs.

For now, I sat on the front porch in my
nightgown sipping ice water and nibbling crackers slowly, hoping I
could will my stomach to digest them. I hadn’t been able to keep
anything down for a couple of days. Between the lack of food and
using all my energy to vomit regularly, I was starting to feel
weak.

It was peaceful at this hour. I could see
what appeal it had for Owen. It allowed you time to think, to clear
your mind and regain your focus without all the daytime
distractions.

That is, until the yelling shattered the
silence.

I looked to the direction of the disturbance
and saw a shirtless Owen throwing Bernie out of Carla’s house.

I immediately knew something wasn’t right.
Bernie shouldn’t be inside Carla’s house ever, and certainly not at
this time of night. It didn’t take a genius to tell that Owen was
furious.

I dropped my cracker and stood quickly,
bringing on a bout of dizziness and nausea. I steadied myself
against the patio table and waited with my eyes closed for it to
pass. This was certainly beginning to annoy me.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Bernie
lying on the sidewalk at the foot of Carla’s steps. Owen was
standing over him wearing only jeans and untied shoes.

Bernie seemed to be waking up. Or maybe he
was drunk. He was always drunk, so that was probably it.

When Bernie began struggling to stand, I saw
Owen tense and assume a fighting stance. No good was going to come
of this.

I went inside to wake Andy. I hated to
involve him in something like this, whatever it was. But he and
Owen were best friends. Owen wouldn’t hesitate to help out Andy. I
hated not knowing what I was getting my husband involved in, but I
had faith that if it was bad, Owen wouldn’t allow Andy to be in
danger. I also had faith that if it was too dangerous, Andy would
have sense enough to walk away. If not for his own sake, then for
mine.

I shook Andy awake and told him to dress
quickly. He didn’t question me. I loved him for reasons such as
that.

While he dressed, I told him about Bernie and
Owen. He dressed faster. As soon as his last shoe was on, he ran
out the front door with me right behind him.

I stayed on the porch for now, and watched as
he ran down the steps and across the street, toward the danger.

I ran across the street to where Bernie and
Owen stood arguing. I saw a trail of blood running down the side of
Bernie’s face.

Owen was shirtless and furious. I’d never
seen him look the way he did now. His face was red, his eyes larger
than I would’ve thought possible. I saw veins protruding in his
neck. He kept his right hand clenched in a fist, as if he may need
to strike with it at any second. His breathing was quick. Spit flew
from his mouth as he talked.

I tried to catch up on what was going on.

“It’s none of your business what I do with
her,” Bernie said. He appeared drunk, but it could’ve been
dizziness from the blow to the head. He staggered.

“You son of a bitch!” Owen yelled, lunging
toward Bernie.

I jumped in front of him and put my hands on
his bare chest. “Owen, calm down. Calm down.” I didn’t think it
would take so much effort to hold him back. We were roughly the
same size, both about six feet two and two hundred twenty or thirty
pounds. But it really was taking all I had to hold him back.

“Get off me, Andy!” Owen had never yelled at
me before, but he sure was now.

“Just calm down. What’s going on?”

“That bastard broke in and...he done things
to Carla while I was right next to her! I’ll kill him. You hear me,
you bastard? I’ll kill you.”

I gave Owen one last push and turned toward
Bernie.

“Bernie, is that true? Why? Why’d you do
that?”

Bernie waved his hand like it was nothing.
“She wanted it.”

Owen sprang for him, going around me, but
before he got to Bernie, Carla did.

She came from nowhere it seemed and swung a
golf club with more strength than I would’ve guessed any woman to
possess. It connected solidly with Bernie’s crotch. The howl that
arose from him at that moment made my skin crawl.

He grabbed his damaged goods and doubled over
in agony. He fell to his knees in a heap and sobbed, writhing in
the street. I was pretty sure he was crying.

I saw Carla raise the club high above her
head, and I barely had time to react. I leaped toward her, grabbing
the club before she brought it down. She was easier to hold than
Owen, but she was still a force to be reckoned with. The anger and
hatred she felt for Bernie at that moment for whatever he’d done to
her gave her strength that she surely didn’t possess on any
ordinary day.

“Don’t,” I said quietly to her. “He’s not
worth doing time over.”

She allowed me to take the golf club from
her. The hollow look in her eyes made my heart ache. I didn’t know
what Bernie had done to her. I probably couldn’t even begin to
imagine the things he’d done. I didn’t want to try. I’d never liked
Bernie. I’d always thought he was creepy. The look on his face had
always suggested to me that he was in the middle of some seriously
perverted and twisted fantasy. Even though I didn’t really know
Carla, I felt for her at the moment in a way I never thought I
would. Looking into her empty eyes gave me a small taste of her
pain.

Fortunately, Jill arrived at her side just in
time for Carla to bury her face in Jill’s shoulder and weep
uncontrollably. I watched as Jill led Carla into her house, where
she would no doubt succeed in calming her down. That was Jill. I
loved her for reasons such as that.

I turned back to Bernie. He lay in the
street, moaning and groaning.

“Maybe you’ll think about the next time you
want to mess with somebody,” Owen hissed.

I felt sorry for Bernie briefly. He was in
the street bleeding, in ripped jeans and a torn shirt, scuffed
cowboy boots, and he was crying like a baby. His life was crap. He
was crap. He would never again be anything other than that. He was
trash. He was pathetic.

“I better never see you over here again. If I
even think I see you look toward this house, I’ll kill you. You
hear me?” Owen said, with one finger pointing down at Bernie like a
dagger. “Never.”

Bernie ignored Owen and continued writhing in
the street. Owen walked up the steps and into Carla’s house. I
turned to give Bernie one last look before I followed suit. He was
slowly crawling toward his house.

I stood over him, leaning down so he could
hear me better.

“If you ever make my friend this angry again,
or if you ever mess with Carla again, I’ll kill you. Got it?” I
thought about kicking him, but figured he was suffering plenty
already.

I’d never liked Bernie. I didn’t know anyone
who did. Maybe Hazel, the little old lady next door to me, but I
don’t even think she liked him. She just always tried to find
something good in everyone. I couldn’t imagine that there was any
good at all in Bernie. I thought about it for a second, but I
couldn’t think of a single thing.

I thought about Owen threatening to kill him.
I wondered if he really would if he caught Bernie here again. I
remembered the look on Owen’s face and decided that he would. Hell,
if Bernie had the balls to break in and defile Carla while Owen was
next to her, he deserved to die.

Then, I wondered something I wish had never
crossed my mind. If Bernie had enough guts to come in and do
whatever he’d done with Owen laying next to Carla, what would he do
without Owen there?

I made my way into the kitchen, where I
grabbed two cold beers from the fridge. I sat down carefully in a
kitchen chair and popped the top on one of beers. I guzzled it
while I placed the other one on my love nub. Who knew the broad
could swing like that?

I hoped there was no permanent damage. It
felt like it now, but maybe when the swelling went down, it would
be fine.

I finished the beer and threw the bottle
across the room. I reached up and gently touched the side of my
head where blood ran freely from the gash. That damn Owen. A knot
the size of a golf ball had risen up from my skull. It stung and
throbbed liked a bitch. I hadn’t even seen it coming. I hadn’t had
time to duck or throw my arm up or anything. That was fighting
dirty.

I hated that damn Owen more now than I ever
had before. I wouldn’t have bothered him at all. He could’ve rolled
over and let me have at her, and things would’ve been just fine.
But no. He had to step in and screw everything up.

I couldn’t help but smile when I thought of
it, even though I was in misery. I’d gotten off – finally. And
while I was touching her! Even better. It’s not what I’d planned,
but it would do.