Her voice gets lower and calmer as she rides it out, coming on the other side of the door and finishing without me.

“Jordan?”

Goddammit, I don’t want her satisfied yet.

But the door doesn’t open, and when I look at the phone, her movements have slowed, just the barest grinding and little sounds out of her as she finishes herself off. I’m going to bend her over that fucking desk right now.

“Jordan, Jesus, open the door,” I growl.

She straightens, putting her foot back on the floor and pulling her bikini bottoms back on. Walking over to the bed, she leans down and meets my eyes, a dreamy look on her face.

“I love seeing you enjoy that,” she says, the sweet look of contentment on her face. “I love seeing that I can hold your attention. And not only can I do it, Pike, but I think I liked it.”

She curls her lips in a little grin.

I jiggle the door handle again. “Jordan, open the door.”

She just tsks. “I’d like to, baby, but…” She sighs. “The dance is over, and you’re not allowed to touch the girls.” And then she winks at me. “’Night, sugar.”

The light on the screen disappears as she ends the call, and the whole hallway suddenly goes dark. I stand there, trying to figure out if she’s actually doing what I think she’s doing, when the light under the door disappears, as well, and I realize she’s shut off her lights.

She’s going to bed?

I yank at the door. “Jordan,” I bark. “What the fuck?”

I hear a drawer open and slam shut and then the bed creak with weight. After a few moments, there are no sounds, and my worst fears have come true. I have a raging hard-on. What would she do if I broke down the door right now? Shit!

I let my forehead fall into the door, and I’m about to throw up my man card and cry.

“When I get a hold of you, it won’t be pretty,” I warn her. “That’s a promise. You’re in for it.

My phone beeps, and I look down, swiping the screen.

Go to bed, the text reads.

My stomach twists, and I’m halfway between going downstairs and blasting music so loud she can’t sleep while I work off some steam doing laps in the pool or picking another fight to get her out of bed again.

It’s late, though, and if I work out now I’ll be up for hours. I have my hand and the Internet, don’t I? Although I don’t need porn when just the memory of her a bit ago hasn’t left long enough to let me get soft yet.

Trailing down to my room, I slam the door shut behind me and crash to the bed, rubbing my aching groin.

Another text beeps in.

And don’t jerk off, it says.

I clench my teeth and whip the phone off to the side, hearing it hit the dresser and drop to the floor.

I better wake up and find her on my dick in the morning or no one is safe tomorrow.

Jordan

It didn’t take as long to fall asleep last night as I thought it would. Moments after I sent my last text, I heard something hit a wall in Pike’s room, and I kind of felt a little bad but also smiled, feeling a little powerful, too. Playing games with him wasn’t my goal, although I do love that we’re good at getting under each other’s skin.

I simply wanted to show him I’m capable of more than he thinks I am, and I don’t appreciate people telling me what’s in my own head.

Then, when he tried to get in the room, I wanted him so badly—his hands, his mouth, his words—but I always forgive too easily, and I don’t want to be that girl anymore. Even if Pike is one of the good ones—and I’m pretty sure he is—I needed to prove to myself that I’m worth the work and the wait. It was necessary to raise the bar for myself and not give everyone what they want from me so easily. I’ve been a pushover long enough. Jay, Cole, my parents…

And I fell asleep, proud of being stronger.

Now today, on the other hand…. He can have me as much as he wants, because I can’t wait anymore, either. After telling him to keep his hands off himself last night, I forced myself to do the same today, and the first thing I’m going to do when I see him is pull off his shirt, because I love the way he looks in just jeans.

The weather is warm today, but there’s a little cloud cover, keeping the heat at bay, and I lie outside on the grass on my stomach, listening to Don Henley on the cassette player as I flip through the fall catalog of courses at my university. I’d already registered for next semester, but I’m thinking of adding another class.

My legs, crossed at the ankles, swing back and forth in the air behind me, but then my phone rings, and I reach over and pick it up off the grass. Looking at the screen, I knit my brow.

What does Dutch want?

I answer and hold it to my ear. “Hey,” I say. “Everything okay?”

My suspicious mind is immediately drawn to Pike and some God-awful accident with any one of the machines he works with.

“Uh, yeah, sorry to bother you,” he tells me. “Do you know what’s wrong with Pike today?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s been in the worst mood,” he whines. “Everyone’s afraid to go near him. He’s barking at everyone, he punched about eighty nails into every single piece of sheet rock he hung, and then he accidentally accepted the wrong shipment of lumber, which prompted a really interesting tantrum reminiscent of my twelve-year-old daughter. It’s been weird.”

I snort, but then clamp my hand over my mouth to stifle it.

“Um...” I search for words, my throat thick with laughter. “No idea, actually.”

Actually, I have a very good idea.

“Well, take cover, honey,” he says. “He’s on his way home, and I don’t know what the hell his problem is.”

My body shakes with silent laughter, and just then, I see Pike’s truck come roaring down the street. Even his engine sounds pissed.

“Okay,” I tell Dutch. “Gotta go.”

I hang up, not waiting for his ‘goodbye’, and watch as Pike barrels into the driveway, the truck coming to a screeching stop. Glancing at my phone, I see it’s only about four in the afternoon. He’s way early.

He looks over at me on the grass, and his eyes zone in, anger and intensity pouring through like I’m about to get the big, fat spanking I deserve.

I fix a coy look on my face and arch my back, pushing up my ass, and then slow the swinging of my legs for good measure to draw his attention to my body.

He steps out of the truck and slams the door, and I can’t hide my smug smile as he approaches, neither of us able to look away.

“I’m not laughing,” he points out sternly. “Now get inside and take off your clothes. I’ve had a whole day to dream up the theme park I’m going to make of your body tonight, girl.”

A rush of excitement lodges in my lungs, and I can’t breathe. I can see all the promises of what’s to come in his eyes, and I can’t lie or play with him anymore. I want it, too.

Holding his gaze, I stand up, and his eyes rake down my body as I slowly back up toward the house.

And he moves forward, following me.

But then a voice carries over his shoulder, interrupting us. “Pike, hi!” a woman calls.

We both halt, and I see Mrs. Taft, one of the neighbors, standing behind him.

“How have you been?” she asks.

He bares his teeth, closing his eyes, and he looks close to hitting something. My stomach shakes with amusement that I don’t let out.

He quickly turns around, affixing a fake smile. “Constance, hi,” he says, almost sounding chipper. “I’m good. Just…busy.”

She nods and peers around his shoulder. “Hey, Jordan.”

“Hi, Mrs. Taft.”

I walk over to Pike’s side, sliding my hands into my pockets.

She smooths a hand down her brown ponytail, holding the leash of the King Charles spaniel she’s been walking since I came out to lay on the grass a half hour ago. She looks up at Pike. “Haven’t seen your boy around much.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s…um…busy, too,” Pike stammers, trying to make up some excuse. “What’s up?”

“Well, I heard Jordan might do some babysitting.” She peers over at me. “Any interest? There’s a housewarming party across the river at the Kuhl’s place,” she tells Pike. “You should come with me. Relax. I just need someone to watch the kids, though.”

“Tonight?” he blurts out.

But she doesn’t answer him, just glances at me again. “Jordan, how about it? I know you’re not fifteen anymore but thought it was worth a shot.”

“Yeah, sure—”

“No,” Pike cuts me off.

I close my eyes for a moment. Jesus, Pike. That was real smooth and totally not obvious.

Constance looks at him, surprised.

“She has class in the morning,” he quickly explains.

Yes, I have class on a Sunday.

“And, uh, chores to do around the house,” he adds, casting me a stern look, “that she’s been bad about not taking care of.”

Yes, Mrs. Tate. After I do the dishes, I have to do Mr. Lawson, so…

“Sorry,” he tells her.

She glances between us, and she knows something is up, because he’s being fucking weird right now, but she handles it with class.

“Oh, no worries,” she chirps. “Maybe another time.”

I give her a smile and nod, trying to recover from my embarrassment and thankful when she finally moves along.

Pike and I stand there a moment, and I’m trying to gauge how, if they’re not talking about us yet, they will be after that.

“Mr. Lawson…” I chide, shaking my head.

I turn and start walking for the house, and when I look back, he’s following me, his eyes pinned on mine.

“People are watching,” I say. “You better not follow me in. It’ll look weird.”

I see his eyes shoot left and right, taking in the various neighbors working in their yards, playing with their kids outside, or sitting on their porches. I don’t really care, but I know he does.