Art Lovers Romance Series Read online

  I look at the swimming pool in the backyard and smile. That’s a nice bit of incentive too. Don’t get me wrong. I love being on my own but the swimming pool at my apartment complex leaves a lot to be desired.

  I kiss my fingers and press them to the window. “Tomorrow, baby. You and me.” Until then, it’s dinner, Netflix, and cuddling with the fur babies. But first, I reach for my back pocket. Nothing. I check my purse. Nothing again. With a sigh, I head back out to my car. Sure enough, my cellphone is laying on the passenger seat. I grab it and notice a jogger running by as I close my car door.

  Hubba hubba zing zing. I hear a soft moan escape my lips as my eyes lock on to the man’s thick thighs. His running shorts are tight and I bite my lower lip as I watch those magnificent muscles flex. And that ass. Damn! My mind instantly imagines what that ass would feel like in my hands as he drives into me. I forcibly tear my eyes away and focus on his upper body, which is just as mouthwatering. His t-shirt hugs broad shoulders and thick biceps. I squeeze my thighs together, suddenly feeling very warm and very slick. Where has this guy been all my life, and would he think it’s weird to suddenly have a jogging buddy?

  My mouth drops open when he jogs into the next-door neighbor’s yard, stopping a few feet from the porch to bend and stretch. It’s Mr. Wilson. Holy crap. I’d spent most of my teenage years learning about the joy of masturbation while imagining my parents’ neighbor doing all kinds of naughty things to me, but he hadn’t been nearly as built as he is now, and his hair was always cut short back then. Nice and tidy, almost a buzz cut. Now he wears his hair longer, and it’s sexy as hell, giving him a slightly rough look. He reaches into the pocket of his shorts and pulls out a key, and then he notices me looking — just looking, definitely not staring — at him. He smiles and waves. After a few seconds I wave back. Or rather, I lift my hand into the air. It’s still there when the door closes behind him. After a few seconds, I realize this and drop it back down, feeling like an idiot.

  “My mom and dad’s neighbor is super hot,” I mutter to myself as I head back inside. “My childhood crush is super hot.” I knew I should’ve packed my vibrator.

  Chapter 2

  Derek

  A slow smile spreads across my face as I sip my coffee. There’s just something special about that first cup of coffee. I glance at the clock. 8:30 a.m. My smile grows bigger. It’s especially nice when I get to drink that first cup on my schedule instead of someone else’s.

  In a previous life, in the not too distant past, I’d be elbow-deep in stress, legal documents, and self-righteous asshole clients by now. I might not have the bank account now that I had when I worked as an attorney, but I also don’t have high blood pressure, ulcers, or a general distaste for life in general. Plus, it’s not like I’m exactly hurting financially. Smart spending combined with smart investing has paid off, and I’m even making some money with my hobby, which is still a pleasant surprise.

  I head upstairs to the second floor and enter my studio. Actually, “studio” might be too grand a word for the cluttered room with shelves weighed down by art books and paint supplies and a few canvases of various sizes leaning against three of the four walls. The uncluttered floor space near that fourth wall is where my easel is, right next to the window that looks down into the backyard. The window is in just the right position to get indirect sunlight almost all day long, making it the perfect spot to paint.

  Taking a seat on the stool in front of the easel, I sit my coffee cup on the little side table and prepare my paint palette with the colors I’ll be working with today. Attached to the canvas is a photo of a birdbath with two cardinals and a bluebird on it. I took the picture just a few days ago, knowing I wanted to paint the scene as soon as I saw it. I’d started the painting yesterday and I figured I’d probably finish it later today. That would give it time to dry in time for the sidewalk art sell at the park this weekend.

  Movement out of the corner of my eye gets my attention and I glance out the window, inhaling sharply at the sight in the neighbors’ backyard. The Cramers had let me know they’d be out of town for a few days and that their daughter — Cyndie, I recall her mom saying — would be house- and pet-sitting for them. I had assumed that was who I saw last night after my jog, but it had already started getting dark and I was busy thinking about how nice my post-workout shower was going to feel.

  Now, however . . . WOW! I vaguely remembered a short nervous little girl knocking on my door every year to sell me Girl Scout cookies, but the curvy woman spreading a towel near the pool wearing a dark blue bikini is a long way from the little girl in my memory.

  Her dark hair is cut in a bob that is almost but not quite long enough to reach her shoulders, and her flawless skin has me reaching for my coffee to soothe a suddenly dry throat. The girl is simply stunning, and it’s like even the sun knows it, it’s golden rays gently kissing her skin.

  I pull the canvas with the birdbath off the easel and prop it against the wall. Without taking my eyes off the vision lounging by the pool, I place a new canvas in front of me. I grab another palette and quickly load it with the colors I need. I alternate from looking at her to looking at the image being created before me. It’s like my hands are possessed as the image begins to form.

  At one point, I glance down and she’s changed position, sitting up to apply lotion. I freeze, even holding my breath, as she squeezes the round tube and lets the lotion fall on her skin.

  I hold back a groan as I watch her spread suntan lotion on her arms, shoulders, and legs. I feel my cock thicken when she puts the white cream on her exposed cleavage.

  “Goddamn,” I mutter, standing up and moving toward the window for a better look. Her freshly lotioned skin glistens under the morning sun as she looks around, her eyes hidden behind large sunglasses. After scanning the yard, she reaches up and unhooks her top, dropping it next to her. She squeezes more lotion onto her breasts and begins rubbing it in.

  I groan and press my forehead to the glass as I unzip my jeans, my hand finding its way inside my boxer briefs. I wrap my fingers around my throbbing shaft and slowly stroke my cock, licking my lips as I imagine teasing her nipples with my tongue until they stand up for me. I close my eyes, my hand sliding faster. I imagine feasting on her large breasts until she’s panting and then slowly working my way down her body, positioning myself between her thighs and pulling that tiny bikini bottom to the side. My balls tighten and I open my eyes, intent on memorizing every detail of her body as I come. My eyes meet hers. One hand is across her breasts and her sunglasses are pulled down to the tip of her nose as she stares up at me, frowning. I grunt and my hips jerk as I coat the lower windowpanes with my cum.

  She climbs to her feet, wraps the towel around herself, and looks up toward me one last time as she storms into the house. “Fuck!” I whisper softly as she disappears from view. She might be out of sight, but she’s not out of mind. And she never will be. No boys around her age would know what to do with a beauty like her. No, she needs a man. Her parents are gone for two weeks. Before they come back, she’ll be mine.

  Chapter 3

  Cyndie

  Goddammit. I knew I was being watched before I took my top off, but I didn’t see anybody so figured it was just my nerves. I should’ve known it would be my asshole neighbor, Donny. The little perv was always trying to get a peek at me when I was little. Why should things be any different now? And while I couldn’t see him clearly, I saw enough to know his arm was moving. The little asshat was jerking off. Ugh.

  Giving him one final glare, I storm inside. The rat bastard. What’s really frustrating about it is that I’d probably be flattered if it was anyone else. I’m short and curvy. All those curves are in all the right places, and I do get more than my fair share of attention from guys, even if those guys would probably do a better job of guessing my bra size than guessing the color of my eyes. Still, the idea of a guy getting hot and bothered enough to stroke his cock while looking at me is enough to make me feel sexy . .
. and a little hot and bothered myself.

  But Dipshit Donny. Ugh! Now that perv will be spanking it while thinking of my tits. Why couldn’t it be his hot dad drooling over me? For a second, my mind is filled with how he looked last night, those tight jogging shorts hugging his thick muscular thighs, those biceps as big as my head. A big man like that . . . is probably big all over, right? I lick my lips, trying to imagine his cock, and I squeeze my thighs together as a blast of lust hits me right between my legs. I quickly stomp that thought out. Nope. Not going there. No need to wander down that road. He has a wife.

  After putting my bikini top back on, I try to focus on something — anything — to take my mind off Mr. Wilson. And the best way to stop thinking about something sexy is to think about something irritating. Donny. Little pervy Donny, who’s obviously still living at home in the same bedroom he lived in when we were in high school. A slow smile spreads across my face. Time to put the little perv in his place. I head toward the front door, ready to march across next door and give him a piece of my mind. I briefly consider finding a t-shirt or something to wear but quickly decide against it. I want him to look. Just so I can tell him to stop looking. The creep.

  I slip on a pair of sandals and make the journey to my next door neighbor’s house. Will Donny open the door? Will one of his parents? Should I tell his parents what he was doing? So many options to ruin the little perv’s life.

  I knock on the door — three solid sharp knocks — and tell myself I am not going to imagine Mr. Wilson opening the door and dragging me inside to have his wicked way with me after he sees me in this bikini that barely conceals my curvy body. Yeah. Right. I can already feel myself getting wet, the fantasy running on a little movie screen inside my head.

  Shifting nervously from one foot to the other, I’m unable to decide if I’d prefer for Donny or Mr. Wilson to answer the door. Mrs. Wilson, I decide. It would be best if the woman of the house answered the door. But then she might think I was trying to put the moves on her husband or son — Ugh — by showing up in nothing but a bikini and sandals.

  A flash of something sparks in my memory. I frown, not quite recalling it. For some reason, it seems important. My eyes widen as it finally comes to me.

  I vaguely remember that, at some point during our visits and telephone conversations, Mom had mentioned the neighbors had gotten divorced, and that the mom and son had moved to another city. I didn’t think much of it at the time, my childhood crush firmly locked away with other childhood memories. But now? The woman had divorced a guy who looked like that? She was obviously crazy.

  I gasp as I realize what else that means. Pervy Donny wasn’t the one watching me from the second-floor window. He wasn’t the one jerking off while watching me.

  Whoa! The super sexy guy from last night was stroking his cock while looking at me? A flash of heat makes my clit throb and I can’t help but wonder what his cock looks like, what it would look like to see him jerk off. Did he come?

  I suddenly remember I’m standing at his front door. Holy hell, this is not a conversation I want to have. I start to step back, but it’s too late. The door opens. I look up, and then up some more, and my heart does some funny little thing where it seems to stop for a second and then beat twice real fast to catch back up with the rest of my body. I lick my suddenly dry lips and squeeze my thighs together as a warm flush rushes over my entire body.

  I know I saw him last night, but — DAMN — I honestly don’t remember him being as big as he is. The man towers over me by at least a foot and a half and he’s almost as broad as the door. It’s still strange to see him with long hair. He’s let it grow out, almost to his shoulders, giving him a sexy unkempt look. My fingers itch with the need to feel that hair. I want to run my hands through his curly locks, preferably while he has me in a passionate kiss, or maybe when his head is buried between my thighs.

  Giving myself a mental shake to clear those images from my mind, I clear my throat. I open my mouth to talk. Close it. And then try again.

  “Good morning, Mr. Wilson.”

  Chapter 4

  Derek

  It’s her. Holy fuck, it’s her. Standing right in front of me in her tiny bikini. I just blasted a load of cum all over the window in my studio just a few minutes ago but I’m ready to go again, my hard cock straining uncomfortably against my gym shorts. I hear her call me Mr. Wilson and that just won’t do. There’s no need to be so formal when I’m imagining bending her over and stuffing her full until she comes all over my shaft.

  “Derek,” I say, smiling at her, and hoping the smile doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy. Hard to believe it appears as innocent as I hope since I can’t decide whether to stare at her nice big tits or her gorgeous eyes, which are such a light gray they almost seem to be silver.

  “I’m sorry?” she says, blinking at me.

  I force my eyes to focus on her face and clear my throat. “It’s Derek. After all, we’re both adults, right?”

  She licks her lips as something flashes through her eyes. “Yeah,” she says. She rocks from one foot to the other. “We’re both adults.”

  “But that’s no reason to run around looking like that?”

  She raises an eyebrow, sticking one hip out and resting her hand on it. “I beg your pardon?”

  I can see the fire in her eyes and I grin. This is going to be fun.

  “The bikini,” I say. “You’re absolutely stunning, and that’s dangerous.” I nod my head toward the road behind her. “Just imagine if a guy went driving by right now. He’d see that fine ass in that tiny bikini bottom and have a wreck . . . or maybe even a heart attack.”

  She rolls her eyes and giggles. “Yeah, right.” Her cheeks are an adorable shade of pink.

  “And you laugh,” I say, a chuckle in my voice. “You think it’s funny to cause accidents with your sexy as sin body?” I lean toward her, all humor gone from my voice now. “Are you a bad girl, Cyndie? Or should I call you Cyn?”

  She gulps, her eyes wide. Her lips are parted slightly and her breathing is more ragged than it was. I glance down and see her hard nipples pressing against her bikini top. “Cyn,” she whispers breathily. “Definitely Cyn.”

  I lean closer and press my lips to hers. She tenses for just a moment and then relaxes, moaning against my mouth as I tease her lips with my tongue. Before she can respond, I break the kiss and step back, gesturing for her to come in. “Bad girls need to be punished, Cyn. Bad girls deserve a spanking. Don’t they?”

  She nods slowly and steps inside the door, her eyes never leaving mine.

  I reach over her shoulder to push the front door shut. She tilts her head back and looks at me beneath hooded eyes. She licks her lips. There’s no way I can resist that invitation. I lean down and claim her mouth with mine, taking her in my arms and pulling her close. Even through my clothes, I can feel her bare skin and it ignites a flame within me that burns like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I growl into her mouth as I slide my hands down to her curvy ass and lift her off the floor. She breaks the kiss with a squeal as her feet leave the ground.

  “Oh my god,” she says, her gray-silver eyes wide. “Put me down. You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “Don’t worry about me, little girl,” I say. “I’ve got you.”

  She wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her into the living room, dropping her head on my shoulder as the fingers of one hand slide across her ass cheek and slip beneath her bikini bottom. She’s hot and slick for me, and I growl against her ear. “So fucking wet, baby. Is that for me?”

  She moans and nods as I slide the tip of my finger into her hot core. The smell of her arousal has my cock throbbing, but there will be time for that later. Right now, there’s another matter to take care of. It’s time for the naughty girl to receive her punishment. She has to learn this sexy body of hers is mine and there’s no need to parade around in a tiny bikini in people’s front yards for the whole world to see.

  She mewls as I set her down. I
motion toward the couch. “Get on your knees and lean over the back of the couch.”

  Her eyes grow wide. I don’t think she realized I was serious about the spanking, but she knows I’m serious now.

  Chapter 5

  Cyndie

  I blink at the man standing before me, the memory of his fingers against my slit still making me tingle. He wants to spank me, and judging from the very large bulge in his jeans, he wants to do a whole lot more. And I want him to. Damn, do I want him to.

  Crawling onto the couch and leaning over the back, I look back over my shoulder at him.

  “Eyes forward,” he commands, and I don’t even hesitate to obey him, which sort of surprises the hell out of me.

  His hand lands gently on my ass and I tense up, biting my lip as butterflies take flight in my stomach at the skin-on-skin contact.

  “Relax,” he says, his voice commanding and soothing at the same time. His large hand massages my ass cheek in slow lazy circles that start small but soon grow larger. Soon, his fingers are brushing against the edge of my bikini bottom. As his fingers lightly pass over my barely concealed pussy lips, I arch back against him. He immediately pulls his hand away and then slaps it down hard on my ass. I suck in a breath at the sharp sting but I feel myself get even wetter than I already am.

  He spanks me again, two powerful swats in quick succession, alternating from one side of my ass to the other. I hold back a moan as he massages the stinging skin.

  “Your ass is so beautiful when it’s just been spanked by me,” he says, his voice a low growl that makes me tremble with anticipation. “Your delicate skin so pink” — the fingers of his hand spread, covering one whole cheek — “so warm.”