Belle Sterling loves to spy on her very sexy neighbors, Aden
and Kevin, but she doesn't dare approach them to introduce herself.
Until one night when they not only give her an erotic show, they
hold a simple note against the window--"Come Over--#19."
She does, and she has the night of her life.
It soon becomes apparent to her that she's interested in a lot
more than casual sex--but the two men have been in a relationship
with each other for over a decade. Can they make room for her
in their lives?
That question becomes even more pressing when Kevin and Aden
are forced to choose between professional advancement and Belle's
best interests. They all must decide if what they share is merely
searing sexual passion--or something far deeper.
Excerpt
The lights across the street turned on. And there they were.
An inadvertent squeal escaped Belle's lips. She covered her
mouth in horror.
"What's wrong with you?" Willow asked.
"Oh, the Dynamic Duo is back," Belle sighed. "They've
been on vacation for like, ever."
They looked to be in their late twenties, but Belle didn't
know for sure. She couldn't decide which one was her favorite.
The tall, dark, and handsome one definitely had several things
going for him. Amazing build, good-looking face, great smile,
nice hair. She wanted to lick him all over.
Not that she didn't want to lick the blonde one. A bit shorter
than his statuesque roommate, he had a lean, swimmer's body.
Whip-chord thin, but well-muscled. And so good-looking he bordered
on pretty, with a killer smile.
"Who?" Willow asked.
She grabbed the chair and pulled it over to the window. Rather
shameless, she knew. They were both carrying large suitcases,
with garment bags slung over their shoulders. She couldn't help
but notice how tan and healthy they looked. She imagined them
stretched out on a sandy beach, the sun on their fine bodies.
In Speedos. They would definitely wear tiny little briefs. And
wet. Sun glistening off well-toned, muscled, wet, sand-covered
bodies. Oh, the world could be so cruel. Why they had been gallivanting
like Greek Gods on some exotic beach, she had been stuck in
a boring job and a dead social life.
"My neighbors across the alley," Belle explained.
"Two of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen. I mean,
really."
"So you're spying on them?"
"No. I'm not spying. Sheesh. But is it my problem if they
don't close their blinds? And did I mention they walk around
in their underwear? Did I mention they don't always wear underwear?"
In the beginning, Belle had felt guilty about her tendency to
stare at them for hours. Just because they walked around naked
in front of their window didn't mean she had the right to look.
But as her own love life spiraled into a dark abyss from whence
no light could escape and no living thing could survive, she
got over her inhibitions.
Willow whistled softly. "No you didn't mention that part.
You should go introduce yourself."
Belle snorted. "No." She could just imagine that
conversation. Hi, my name is Belle. I'm the creepy girl from
across the alley that stares through the window at you all the
time. But I really am harmless. No really. Who would bail her
out if they called the cops? And they would.
"Oh! Give them a show! See if they look!" Willow
suggested. Belle couldn't tell if she was teasing or not.
"Why would I do that?" Not that she hadn't considered
it, once or twice. But Belle wasn't all convinced anybody would
want to look at her naked body again, let alone two super-hot
strangers.
"Well if they stare at you, they're probably not gay."
"I don't think that's a very accurate test. I mean, if
somebody was parading naked in front of your face without warning,
wouldn't you look?"
"Well ... maybe ... but do it anyway," she encouraged.
Belle looked out the window again. They were undressing. Talking
while removing one layer at a time. This part never got old.
First, the jackets, then the ties, then the shoes, shirts, pants,
and socks. She wasn't proud that she had this knowledge. It
wasn't something she shared.
Belle had a good view of their entire apartment. The only rooms
she couldn't see were the bedrooms, which, as it turned out,
were the only rooms she wanted to see. The blonde one with the
tight body sprawled out on the couch, flipping through a magazine.
The tall, dark and handsome one was cooking in the kitchen--cooking
actual food. Belle couldn't help but be impressed--her kitchen
was where the chips and diet Coke lived.
"Can I assume from the long silence that they're doing
something interesting?" Willow asked.
"What? No, they aren't doing anything." Except making
me die a little. "I'm just ... admiring the view, really."
"Well, I've got to go, though I do love to listen to you
admire the view. I have a ten page paper due tomorrow afternoon
that I haven't even started yet," Willow sighed. "Thank
God this whole college thing is almost over."
"Yeah, I'll catch you tomorrow for lunch."
"Don't do anything to crazy."
"I never do," Belle muttered as she hung up the phone.
Tall Dark and Handsome had left the kitchen and carried two
plates into the living room. Blonde and Lean took his plate
without looking up. "God," she sighed. They were so
pretty.
They could be straight as an arrow and it wouldn't have mattered,
anyway. Their paths never crossed and she would never have the
courage to introduce herself to them either. Something insanely
stupid would come flying out of her mouth, she was sure. She
noticed Blonde and Lean sneer at something Dark and Handsome
said. He did that a lot--sneer. He had a good mouth for sneering.
A good mouth for smiling. A good mouth for many things, she
suspected.
Belle thought about what Willow suggested. Tease them a little.
She couldn't walk around naked but ... there was that little
red thing she never wore that was so gauzy it appeared to be
made entirely out of dental floss. She had bought it for Paul,
but that relationship headed south, past the equator, before
she ever had a chance to use it. Not something she usually lounged
around the house in, not even something she wanted to own, but
maybe...
And the black fishnets that were buried in her sock drawer.
Belle rolled her eyes. She was being silly. She could probably
walk around the house butt-naked and they wouldn't notice. Or
if they did notice--hey, naked woman right in front of their
face--they wouldn't care. What had Paul told her? "Lose
weight or no one will ever fuck you again?" He had been
a prince of a guy. "How did I let him slip away,"
she muttered.
She dug around her kitchen until she found her bottle of Bacardi.
Bacardi was good. An old friend, she always kept a bottle or
two on hand. Unfortunately, she didn't have any tequila. Her
first choice when it came to liquid courage. Clutching the bottle,
she went to her room, found the little red number, and after
some consideration, the fishnets as well.
Belle undressed and studied herself in the mirror. In the past
six months, she had definitely filled out. There were several
pairs of pants that no longer fit, including her favorite pair
of jeans, which was unfortunate. She didn't think she looked
that bad though. If anything, she looked curvy.
Curvy. She liked that. She had curves.
She ran her hands down her legs. They were still smooth from
the last waxing. Not that it mattered, of course. She didn't
need to impress anybody. But if she were trying to impress somebody,
she might consider painting her toenails. They always looked
so cute after a pedicure.
Belle pulled the chemise over her head and admired the effect.
The ruffles at the top accented her tits without looking silly.
She could see the outline of her body through the almost-sheer
red material. She stepped into the matching pair of underwear.
She held her hair up, then let it fall, deciding which would
work best. Ultimately, she chose to leave her dark hair tumble
free around her shoulders.
The fishnet stockings did not quite complete the outfit. Something
was missing, but Belle couldn't decide what. Did she need make-up?
Maybe some cherry-red lipstick and some dark eye shadow. It
would help, but it didn't quite round the outfit out.
Biting her lip, Belle studied her closet. A robe? Jewelry?
The pink boa she bought last year for Halloween? Her eyes fell
on her red stiletto heels she had bought years ago. A bell dinged
in her head. Perfect.
Once the shoes were strapped on, she paraded in front of the
mirror, Bacardi in hand. Sashaying and wiggling her ass, she
couldn't help but wonder who that hot chick in the mirror was.
Dressed to kill, but no prey in sight.
Belle pursed her lips and batted her eyes. "Maybe it's
time to introduce myself after all."
