Naughty Neighbors Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Information

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty One

  Twenty Two

  Twenty Three

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Carnal Passions Presents

  Naughty Neighbors

  By

  Destiny Blaine

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Carnal Passions

  A Division of Champagne Books

  www.carnalpassions.com

  Copyright 2013 by Destiny Blaine

  ISBN 9781771550307

  September 2013

  Cover Art by Petra Kay

  Produced in Canada

  Previously released as First and Ten: Let The Games Begin

  Champagne Book Group

  #2 19-3 Avenue SE

  High River, AB T1V 1G3

  Canada

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Carnalpassions.com (or the retailer of your choice) and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  For Romancing the Jock contributors. You’re an inspiration!

  One

  “Yes! Yes! Yes! Did you see that pass?” Kara shook her hips and enjoyed a quick victory dance before securing the phone between her shoulder and ear. Grabbing her sneakers, she fiddled with her shoestrings and took a seat on the nearby ottoman. “I can’t believe this game! First and ten with fifteen seconds left on the clock. They’re cutting it close.”

  “Our boy looks good though, huh?” Carly had too much spunk in her voice and the underlying implications grated on Kara’s nerves. “If they win tonight, you know what that means.”

  “It means if the Longhorns stay healthy, they’ll be headed to the playoffs.”

  Without a doubt, the last thing on Carly’s mind was football. The only reason Carly watched the game was so she could determine what time to expect Kemper.

  Kara quickly dismissed visions of her best friend and boyfriend playing naked twister on a king-size bed. She couldn’t go there. Carly had already divulged where they were staying—Beverly Hills. In a matter of minutes, she would mention the champagne on ice and the new lingerie she’d recently purchased.

  “You’re so transparent, Kara. Let me guess what you’re doing right about now. You’re slipping on your running shoes, planning to tear up that trail behind your condo as soon as the game is over. You’re hoping to run off that pent-up sexual frustration you’re experiencing, but it won’t work.” Carly laughed. “Believe me, girlfriend. I have been there.”

  “I doubt it,” Kara grumbled, irritated that her best friend called her out on her oh-so-obvious envy.

  “You doubt it?” Carly’s voice raised an octave. “Do you really think it doesn’t bother me when Kemper is in your bed instead of mine?”

  As of late, Kemper had spent a dozen weekends in Carly’s company. He’d given Kara one afternoon of pleasure. No, Carly didn’t begin to know the horrors of intimate dissatisfaction.

  Kara glared at the television screen, holding her breath as the Longhorns scrambled, trying to beat the clock and make a big play before they ran out of time. Seconds later, Kemper seized an opportunity. Thanks to a tough offensive line, the field opened up and Kemper sprinted into the end zone. Taking home the win for Houston, the Longhorns left devastated opponents in their wake.

  “Oh yeah!” Carly sounded like a happy hooker working a guarded street corner on the affluent side of town. “Somebody will be right tonight!”

  Kara ignored Carly and watched scores of sports fans stampede the field. “Oh yeah! It’s smooth sailing from here forward. The Longhorns should be headed to the playoffs when the regular season is over!” A sense of pride washed over Kara and she admired her man—the man she shared with her best friend Carly—as he was hoisted high in the air by fellow teammates.

  “God he looks good,” Carly purred. She was probably biting back the urge to tell Kara how she planned to help Kemper celebrate the win.

  “Yes he does,” Kara agreed, wishing she were in LA. She would love to spend the night listening to Kemper recap the game. They’d talk about the sacks and penalties. She’d hang on his every word and he’d brush off the fact that he was now hailed the quarterback with the most aggressive passing game. As usual, he’d credit his offensive line and tell her it was pure luck running his second touchdown of the season.

  Kara sometimes wondered what Kemper and Carly talked about. They had very little in common. The only thing Carly knew about football was that she dated a quarterback and he was often too hot to handle after a win. Thinking aloud, Kara asked, “Do you and Kemper ever discuss the game?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Carly drawled. “He has you for that.”

  The demeaning tone in Carly’s voice took Kara aback. Regrouping, she said, “You’re right. He has me for that.” Somehow being the go-to girl for great conversation didn’t exactly keep her warm at night.

  Outside Kara’s window, her next door neighbor parked his Mercedes convertible. Debonair and sleek, both man and car represented exotic unadulterated pleasures. Each could handle dangerous curves and the roads less traveled. Zak Stone was the epitome of sex working its swagger as he left his car and twirled his keys.

  Kara watched him approach the building and her entire body went rigid. Her womb clenched. A tickling sensation on the back of her neck made her all too aware of the way her body responded to the sight of him.

  In recent weeks, she’d begun to notice him more. Zak wasn’t just eye candy. With Kemper’s recent absence, her handsome neighbor now inspired her daytime fantasies and many wet dreams.

  She felt a twinge of guilt and silently cursed her unmanageable lust. Then again, Kemper hadn’t been around, and he certainly hadn’t gone without sex.

  “Damn,” Kara muttered, moving closer to the window when Zak dropped his keys and leaned over to retrieve them. “Guy has the finest ass I’ve ever seen.”

  “Who are you talking about? Kemper? He’s already off the field here.”

  “We’re watching the same channel, Carly,” Kara reminded her, annoyed. “And what do you know? Kemper has left the field here, too.”

  “You’re such a sarcastic ass sometimes.” Carly released a heavy breath. “You’re spying on your neighbor again. Aren’t you?”

  “I’m not dead yet.”

  Carly laughed. “As long as you look but don’t touch, no harm done. Just remember if the walking dead decides to find new life in her neighbor’s bed
, I don’t want to hear about it.”

  Kara groaned. She wished she’d never mentioned the next-door hunk.

  “Okay, sweetie pie, I have to get ready.” Carly was as flippant as ever. “I want you to pamper and spoil yourself this weekend. Go spend some of our boy’s money. Hang out with the gang and try to get some rest. Kemper says you’ve been working far too much in recent weeks. You deserve a break.”

  Kemper had been discussing her with Carly? She swallowed the lump in her throat. Was that a good sign or a bad one? She shuddered. When she and Kemper were together, he rarely mentioned Carly. They had come to an agreement when the three of them first began their arrangement. Friendship and love remained separate. It was the only way a true triangle could work for all parties involved.

  “You still there?” Carly asked, dragging her away from her thoughts.

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you okay?” There wasn’t any play or insincerity in Carly’s voice.

  Thank God. Kara would’ve given her a real piece of her mind. Even though they’d been BFFs since way back when, she didn’t appreciate Carly’s tactics when she tried to rub salt in an open wound. It was bad enough Carly’s upcoming days and nights would be filled with him.

  “Since you asked, no,” Kara replied, not at all willing to meet the real issue at hand. “Have you noticed we’ve been ousted by our gal pals?”

  “Ousted how? When? And who are you talking about?”

  “Sabrina, Monica, Erica, and Angie…they refuse to go out with me anymore.”

  “Refuse is a pretty strong word,” Carly pointed out. “Besides, last time I talked to Monica she said you’d become a real bore. Sorry sweetie but there isn’t anything sexy about a workaholic.”

  The truth finally weaseled its way around Carly’s little white lie. Kemper hadn’t discussed her work habits. Monica had been the culprit.

  “My back has been up against a wall of deadlines.”

  “Then scratch the weekend out with the girls. Get to work, woman. You have another bestseller to write. Go for your run, order in, pour a few glasses of red wine, and keep those fingers busy. Who knows, you may even be able to crank out a novel in a few days. What’d you say?”

  “Now I remember why we’re friends,” Kara admitted. “You’ve always supported me.”

  “I do, I do,” Carly sang.

  About that time Kara’s phone beeped. She felt her lips turn up in a smile. Kemper always called her right after his games, a habit he formed long before he started sleeping with her best friend.

  “I’ve gotta take this. It’s Kemper.” Kara licked her index finger and chalked one up for the home team. Little Miss Sassy Pants could chew on that one.

  “Okay, sweetie,” Carly drawled. “Be sure to tell him I’ll see him in a bit.”

  Kara went ahead and swallowed the bitter pill she’d tried to force down Carly’s throat. How they had remained friends through thick and thin, Kara would never know. “I’ll do just that.” She disconnected the call and switched lines. “Hey you.”

  “Hey hon,” Kemper rasped. “Did you watch the game?”

  “No,” she drawled. “I had a spa appointment for a Brazilian wax.”

  “You did, huh?” A guttural growl filled the line. “You won’t see me for another couple of weeks so there better not be another reason you’re getting all waxed down.”

  “I was glued to the tube for every last play.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he said. “What’d you think?”

  “Honestly?”

  “It’s why you’re always my first call, sunshine.”

  “The Longhorns caught some bad calls but you had a lot of avoidable penalties, too.” She twisted from one side to the other, stretching and bending in an effort to loosen up before her run. “Everyone seemed distracted.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  “What’s wrong with your teammates? The defense was sluggish. They acted like they’d all been served with divorce papers recently.”

  He laughed. “You’ve been reading the tabloids.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Most of our starters are having trouble in paradise. Their problems at home are carrying over to the field.”

  “Really?” Kara felt vindicated. She wasn’t the only Longhorn player’s woman who felt a stab of discontentment.

  “I’m the luckiest man I know,” Kemper said. “I have two sensational women waiting for me on the sidelines. My life is win-win thanks to you and Carly.”

  Kara froze. Kemper’s life was win-win for sure, but where did that leave her?

  Two

  “Carly Diamond’s room, please.” Kemper stood at the front desk awaiting the key Carly had left for him. Knowing Carly, she had reserved the most expensive suite his money could buy. He typically pinched pennies and saved his dimes. Still, Carly chose the Four Seasons Los Angeles at Beverly Hills. One night probably ran him close to twenty-two hundred. Then again, he wouldn’t complain. In a matter of minutes, she’d make him believe the room was worth twice that amount.

  The front desk manager smiled warmly and placed the key on the counter. “Miss Diamond left a message for you, Mr. Kapertone. She asked me to tell you to meet her at Culina, our—”

  “Yes, I know,” he interrupted her, not meaning to be rude, but agitated all the same. Carly should’ve waited for him upstairs.

  “Of course you do,” the staff member said, nodding her head slightly. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Kapertone, and congratulations on your win tonight.”

  “Thank you,” he said, turning to hand off his luggage to the bellhop.

  Over his shoulder, the manager said, “Mr. Kapertone is staying in the royal suite.”

  “So much for twenty-two hundred a pop,” he grumbled, barely aware of the fact that he’d spoken at all.

  The bellhop watched him curiously. “I beg your pardon, Sir?”

  Kemper retrieved his wallet and placed a gratuity in the man’s hand. “I was hoping to meet my beautiful companion in our room.”

  “Ah,” the bellhop drawled, grinning from ear to ear. “You must be here with Miss Diamond.”

  “I am indeed.” Kemper chuckled. Carly had a way of working her way around a hotel. By the time she left the Four Seasons, she’d know every staff member by name.

  The bellhop leaned over and whispered, “Our presidential suites were booked when Miss Diamond arrived a few days ago, but if you would like to request a move—”

  “As long as the lady is happy, I’m happy.” He walked away, in pursuit of Culina, quite possibly the best Italian restaurant in LA, only he wasn’t thinking about the mouthwatering rigatoni when he entered the intimate Grappa Room.

  By the time he locked gazes with one blue-eyed siren, he was as hard as steel. Dinner was the furthest thing from his mind.

  “Hey, babe.” Carly tented her hands under her dainty chin, showing off her manicured nails and dark burgundy polish.

  He felt his lips twitch. His gaze dipped and his cock responded, lengthening in his slacks. Carly’s luscious mounds practically tumbled out of her low-cut dress. “How long have you been waiting?”

  Her wicked tongue swiped across her lips. “Long enough to sit here and think about all the delicious things I’d like to do to you after dinner.”

  “Have you now?” Kemper peeled off his sports coat and sat down. He scooted around the rectangular table. Tucking his arm behind her, he pulled her to him for a succulent kiss, appreciating how her body melded to his. Her nipples hardened against his shirt and he tested her responsiveness, deepening the kiss and caressing her bare shoulders.

  Damn her for wearing a backless dress.

  She shivered as his fingers raked across her flesh. Cupping her nape with one hand, he used the other to tour, hiking up the short black dress she wore. He could only hope and assume the long tablecloth would conceal his groping.

  “Kemper,” she whispered, pulling away.

  “Don’t move,” he breathed
, walking his fingers up her inner thigh. “I’ve missed you.”

  “People can see us.”

  “I don’t give a damn if the whole world watches,” he said, thrusting his tongue between her lips again while pressing his fingers against her damp crotch. “You knew I’d be hot for you. Maybe you should’ve considered in-room dining.”

  “If you keep this up, we’ll have to go upstairs.”

  He grinned into their kiss and bore down on her lace-clad clit, using the heel of his hand to tease her. “Now you’re talking like a woman who knows how I think.”

  “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come.” A breathless sigh filled his ear with tantalizing promises.

  Pulling back, he smiled down on her. Forcing his index finger under her panties, he dragged the digit through her folds. “That’s a challenge, not a dirty little threat. I don’t care if you scream my name for the whole world to hear.”

  Immersing his finger all the way inside her hot pussy, Kemper grunted and turned his head, acknowledging the waiter approaching their semi-private dining room. “After this stunt, I may make this the longest dinner date in history.” He kept a firm digit right inside her folds, ignoring her when she tried to slap away his hand.

  “Good evening, Mr. Kapertone,” the waiter said. “Congratulations on your win tonight.”

  Kemper slowly withdrew his finger, but kept one hand on her inner thigh. He was certain the waiter suspected what he’d interrupted given his flushed skin and twitching lips.

  “Thank you.” Kemper sniffed, fighting off the urge to laugh at the whole situation.