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Like a Good Neighbour

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I’ll be there within an hour, darling. Thank you SO much. xo

Alessandra knew he was exhausted, simply for the fact that he wasn’t barraging her with a stream of texts all the way from Heathrow to his own front door. It was also easy to surmise that the schedule he’d been keeping of late would do wonders for his continually burgeoning career, but would also run him into the ground if he wasn’t careful.

Which he rarely was, the energetic man-puppy.

The previous time she’d been in this very situation, he’d completed three films back to back, attended numerous film festivals and movie premieres, and, as he’d memorably shared with the press, he “fell into bed and slept for a week.”

Not to mention the horrendous flu that kept him down for half of that time, Alessandra recalled as she turned down the linens on his bed and fluffed his pillows. She made her way into the bath to make sure there were clean towels and then left his master bedroom with the soft snick of a light switch. Making her way downstairs once more, the young lady with the arrestingly red hair caught the warm scent of the roast, carrots, and potatoes she’d been cooking in the oven for a couple of hours, mentally ticking off two different lists that popped into her mind.

Bed turned down

Towels set to go

Dinner in the oven

Mail on the foyer table

Birthday gift (belated) on the worktop


Followed by:



BBC Radio 2



If he wasn’t careful, he’d be down and out again, much like his last foray into workaholic-land. This was why, he’d sweetly told Alessandra those few years ago after they’d become friends and neighbours, he needed her around whenever he’d be coming home – for a brief moment or for an extended stay. She would get him situated and sorted out so he could just eat, sleep, and recuperate.

Neighbours do that sort of thing for one another, Tom had insisted flirtatiously, and Alessandra scoffed loudly at her handsome friend who lived just next door.

“And are you going to move your schedule around if I get a stomach bug, Tom?” she’d goaded right back. The tall, handsome man surprised her in that moment. Grabbing her hand and pulling her to him, enveloping her in a warm hug, he was all whispered sincerity against her hair.

“If I’m anywhere in town, darling, I’ll come as soon as you call.”

Those words he’d proven to be true, and not a few times. But the fact of the matter was, Tom was becoming more and more famous, and his time at Hampstead was becoming less and less prevalent.

It was because of this that Alessandra just couldn’t stay away, and thus found herself once more waiting on him to come home. She missed him, her sweet friend and neighbour. He’d been good to her the handful of times she was ill or needed help, and whenever he was in town he made it a point to try and get in touch, if only for a few minutes. His charm and gorgeous face didn’t hurt, either.

Alessandra’s attraction to him was fierce. Guarded, but fierce. She didn’t care that he might be using her – she’d done the same to him a few times when she was sick or had one of her severe migraines – and she also didn’t pay much attention to the string of women he was constantly connected to in the press. Alessandra was smart enough to realize she didn’t really belong in his world, but she would take whatever she could get when he was around.

For when he was at Hampstead, he was hers.

She thought it mildly amusing that very few women actually seemed to make it into his home, and the longer this fact presented itself to her, she dared hope that it had a little something to do with her. This was why she went the extra mile for him whenever he’d been away for an extended period of time.

She would always stock his kitchen with food and make a meal.

She would have sweets waiting for him – usually some of her own, homemade ones.

She would see to it that the house was opened up, dusted off, and ready to welcome him back.

And more recently, when he would be on his last (tall) leg, she would stay in the house with him the first night to make sure he was all right. After his bout of severe exhaustion and flu, it was just common sense, really.

She’d been his nursemaid and ended up staying at the house most of that week, although he was either sleeping or vomiting the majority of that time.

Bless his sweet heart, Alessandra recalled. Thanking me for the cool flannels on his forehead and the small glasses of water so he wouldn’t get dehydrated.

Alessandra had always loved helping people and feeling needed, but when the eyes of appreciation came in such an arresting shade of blue, and the face of thanks looked as though it was carved of palest marble, well…she would have done just about anything.



His keys jangling onto the foyer table coincided with the oven timer going off, and Alessandra deftly lifted the roasting pan out and onto the worktop, carefully hurrying the process so she could make herself slightly more presentable before he finished rifling through the pile of bills and other post waiting for him.

“Alessandra, love?” he called after her.

She whipped off the potholders on her hands and practically ran down the hallway toward that deliciously tired voice.

“So how dead do we look this time, Mr. Busybody?” she teased as he came into her view. He had his guitar case and at least three pieces of baggage surrounding him, and his dress shirt and navy trousers looked rumpled and worn. She noticed his shoes were already off, and his toes tapped the lino as he opened an envelope. At the sound of her voice, his head shot up and a wide grin spread across his face. The mail fell to the floor; she was up and in his arms immediately.

“I’m about a nine on the dead scale, darling girl,” he laughed deeply against her neck. Alessandra felt him take in a breath of her as he squeezed her tightly against him. This was always her favorite part. He would hold her, her limbs wrapped around him, and talk to her for several seconds before putting her down.

“Well at least you still look good,” she pecked him playfully on the cheek as he continued to sway side to side with her in his arms. “I made dinner if you’re hungry. Know you must be tired.”

Tom pretended to drop Alessandra, earning him a shriek as the young woman clung to him desperately.

“Take me to the food!”

Laughing at his caveman-esque response, Alessandra broke quickly from Tom’s embrace and led him back to the kitchen, smiling to herself when she felt his hands press lightly against her shoulders for the entirety of their walk.

“You might have to feed it to me, Alessandra,” he teased sleepily as she motioned him over to the table, which she’d set earlier.

And so the banter starts, she smiled, turning her back to him. She ignored the comment for a few beats, filling his plate with meat and veg, then some freshly-baked bread, before sauntering over to the table and delicately placing the food before her neighbour.

He was splayed in his chair as though he were about to receive a lap dance instead of a dinner plate.

She’d waited for this moment for hours – excruciatingly slow hours – and had choreographed her response. Taking the pins from her messy hair, she let the strawberry waves tumble from their haphazard updo, running fingers casually through them.

He didn’t so much as lift his fork. He watched.

“There are many, many things I will do for you, Tom. But feeding you is not currently on that list,” Alessandra winked, sitting across from him.

She wasn’t sure if his groan in response was to her insinuation, or to the fact that he would have to lift his own utensils at the table. Either way, the sound made her want to do those many things so that she could hear it from his delicious mouth again and again.

Instead she settled for small talk so he could eat.

“I’ve got a belated birthday present for you, you know.”

Tom waited to respond until he’d swallowed the bit of roast he was chewing. Carefully wiping his mouth before speaking, he smiled in surprise at her.

“Alessandra, you know you don’t have to do that, darling.” He reached out a hand, open in invitation, and Alessandra took it gently.

“I know I don’t. But we’re friends. And I like taking care of you sometimes, that’s all…” she trailed off. Tom kept ahold of her hand as he washed down his bite with a sweating bottle of lager. She tried not to focus on the way his long fingers enveloped hers, in the familiarity of the gesture.

“Can I have it now?” he asked in a faux-petulant voice.

Alessandra snorted, pulling her hand back and pointing at his plate. “You can have it when you’re done with your food, young man.”

“But aren’t you going to eat?” he inquired. The look on his face was one of concern, and he looked Alessandra up and down, seemingly noting the thinness of her frame. He hadn't seen her in a couple of months.

“I did earlier. It’s close to midnight, Tom. I can’t sleep on a full stomach,” she replied, sitting back in her chair and drumming her fingers on the tabletop.

Putting a rather large combined bite of carrot and potato into his mouth, Tom gave her a cheeky grin before speaking with his mouth full.

“I can. I can sleep anywhere, anytime.”

She laughed at his quick change from suave gentleman to adorable little boy, shaking her head.

“Is that why you’re a nine on the dead scale, then?”

Tom knew where this line of questioning was going, and he hated it. Hated to admit that Alessandra was always right.

“No, ma’am. It’s because I’m working too hard, right?” he gave her the raised eyebrow of feigned innocence, continuing to eat. Alessandra found herself distracted by the way he was grasping a piece of the bread and using it to efficiently soak up some of the gravy from the roast.

“Correct,” she clucked sternly, getting up from the table and walking over to the worktop to retrieve his birthday gift. It was in a small, white paper bag. She hadn’t bothered with a card, but just wanted to give him something simple that he would like. Something made by her own hands – not something impersonal that he could easily afford himself.

“What’s this, then?” Tom asked, finishing his last bite of veg and draining the remnants of his beer.

“Open,” Alessandra nodded her head toward the bag as she pushed it to his side of the table. She could see understanding dawn on his face when one of his hands wrapped around the base of the bag.

“Oh you didn’t…” he trailed off, nimble fingers tearing open the top of the bag as his eyelids narrowed at her smug expression.

Winking devilishly at him, Alessandra maneuvered Tom’s plate out of the way as he lifted the cellophane-wrapped baggie of goodies from its hiding place.

“You naughty little girl,” Tom purred, tearing into the clear packaging with aplomb as Alessandra sat back in her chair, inordinately pleased with herself (and with his reaction). “Are these the ones you make?”

He was almost whining with anticipation, and Alessandra could see his pupils were practically dilating at the thought of what was about to happen. She nodded, smirking. Her nonchalance was carefully practiced – inside she was warming at his sensual, pleased reaction. She played off the gift.

“Dark chocolate, chocolate mint, and chocolate cherry liqueur truffles. I made some of all three for you, Thomas. Happy birthday.”

Standing to lean over the table, Alessandra gave Tom a quick kiss on his forehead, hearing the sharp intake of breath at the feeling of her soft lips connecting with his skin. Alessandra assumed that many of Tom’s…other women…were always clueless about birthday gifts. They gave it too much thought, or they spent too much money. It was next-level bullshit, all those females trying to outdo their predecessors.

Tom was a man. He loved chocolate things. Men could be wooed with food. And what better way to prove herself indispensable?

Not only was Alessandra his favorite neighbour, she took care of him and made him chocolates.

Simple, ladies, she thought to herself.

He had one of the chocolate mint ones halfway to his mouth, that pink tongue peeking out at her, when she grabbed his wrist none too gently.


Tom startled, confused by Alessandra’s command. She didn’t miss how he listened to her immediately, dropping the truffle-laden fingers of his right hand to the table. Warmth stirred in her belly at the power she seemed to have over this successful, imposing, handsome man. Before he could retort, she snatched the truffle from his hand, holding it temptingly close to her own mouth.

“You can have some after you get yourself upstairs and into the bath, Thomas,” she spoke sternly, lowly. “It’s late. Your body is exhausted and you need rest.”

As she grabbed the bag of treats with one hand, she fed herself the truffle with the other, standing at the table and smirking at him. She knew him well – he would go and go and go until his body literally shut down, and he needed to sleep. Her bravado wavered a bit as Tom stalked around the table toward her, hands reaching out and threading through her long red hair. She swallowed the truffle and licked her bottom lip self-consciously, wondering if she’d overstepped. Tom’s hands gently cradled her head, tilting it back as he loomed over her, staring into her hazel eyes.

“Yes ma’am. And thank you for dinner, and my gift.” He pressed an agonizingly slow kiss on Alessandra’s right cheek, then her left, and was suddenly gone, walking out of the kitchen. His voice called back to her.

“Will you be staying here, as usual?”

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the empty beer bottle and Tom’s cutlery from the table and adopted her commanding tone as she walked to the sink. “You bet your ass. Go upstairs, Tom.”

His low chuckle of laughter sent a shiver of arousal straight down her spine.



There wasn’t much to clean in the kitchen since the roasting pan had to soak and she’d loaded the dishwasher. The leftovers were stocked neatly in Tom’s fridge, and Alessandra carefully wiped the worktops and wrapped up the rest of the baked bread for morning toast. She walked out of the kitchen once but, on a whim, backtracked, and retrieved the bag of truffles as she headed into the foyer to see what the laundry situation would be. She didn’t mind doing his laundry, but most of the items he’d packed were in suit bags and needed to be dry-cleaned. Ralph Lauren wasn’t exactly washable, sometimes.

After assessing the damage and seeing that everything was, indeed, dirty, Alessandra decided to just worry about the wash the next morning. She wanted to get upstairs, change into her sleeping attire, and give her sweet friend a hug goodnight – and a truffle or two since he’d followed after-dinner orders so well.

The thought she had about shoving him onto his bed and kissing him senseless teased her all the way up the stairs until she banished it to the farthest reaches of her mind.

You’ve been forward enough this evening, young lady, she scolded herself.

Alessandra passed Tom’s room, noting that the water in the shower was still running – and the door was open. She stopped for a moment to see steam billowing out from the bathroom, and let herself imagine just who, exactly, was behind the shower curtain. He’d been training quite religiously since he’d done The Night Manager, and his latest role in Skull Island called for him to beef up even more. Alessandra had never minded him when he was skinny – muscled, but thin when they first met – but now that he had additional bulk and that lean, tapered look that comes with ever-broadening shoulders and a tight abdomen (not to mention his divine behind), she loved the additional weight of him.

She wanted to see it on him, see how he carried it underneath all those suits and shirts and sweaters. Alessandra wanted to taste it on him. She knew the muscle would only enhance his devastating effects.

The water of the shower turned off, startling her back to reality. She fled down the hallway to one of Tom’s guest rooms, quietly closing the door and tossing the bag of truffles onto the bed where some of her clothes were strewn. Stretching a bit, Alessandra sauntered to the window, closing the curtains after looking down at the quiet, dark street below the house.

I could go home now, she thought, but I always stay in case he needs something. He’s practically helpless the first 24 hours he’s home.

If she were honest with herself, nothing would have dragged her away. She rummaged in her bag for her toiletries and washed her face, then brushed her teeth. Plugging in her phone beside the bed, Alessandra turned the volume off so nothing in the house would wake Tom. She usually brought one of his cordless phones into the guest room so she could answer while he slept, too. It wasn’t until she had changed into boxers and a soft vest top from Victoria’s Secret that said EXERCISE? EXTRA FRIES on it that she noticed the house was deathly quiet. She smiled.

Probably asleep already, she thought. Deciding to go and check just once before she turned in, Alessandra grabbed the bag of birthday truffles and tiptoed quietly back to Tom’s bedroom. The bathroom light was still on, as was the overhead light in his room. She was about to ask him if he needed something when she saw him.

Splayed out asleep on the bed, only slightly underneath the sheets.

Hair still slightly damp and curly.

Totally naked.

She knew this as fact because, although part of Tom’s long legs had made it under the duvet, he hadn’t pulled it past his upper thighs, and she could see his cock – stiff and lightly grasped in his right hand – straining for some sort of attention that he must have been giving it before he dropped off.

Alessandra would have laughed at the way Tom was draped across his bed, mouth slightly open in deep slumber, but her mouth was watering at the sight before her eyes. If she thought he was gorgeous with clothes on, then he was fucking deadly without them.

I certainly never saw all this when he was passed out with the flu, she shivered. His whole body seemed to broaden with each deep, even breath he took. Moving quietly toward his nightstand, Alessandra lightly deposited the bag of truffles beside his glasses and mobile, and then went to turn out the lights.

She had to fight to look away from those newly-muscled arms, the deep vee of his abdominals, and that delicious erection that didn’t seem to be going away.

There would be quite a bit of touching herself tonight, she decided. A thrill shot through her when she thought about masturbating in his house, just down the hall from where he slept. Wicked thoughts of what he might do if he found her flooded her brain, warming her face.

The bathroom switch was easy, as it could be turned off without a sound. But the overhead bedroom light made a bit of a flick sound when she pressed it off. Just moments after the bedroom plunged into darkness and Alessandra was making her way out of the room, she heard him.


It was a whisper, quiet in volume, but a growl just the same.

She froze where she was, her eyes trying to adjust to the blackness surrounding her. Perhaps he was dreaming? Her vision was still mostly obscured by the abrupt change from light to dark, but she could now make out Tom’s shape silhouetted by some of the moonlight streaming in through the thin fabric of the curtains. He remained in the same position as before, splayed prostrate and partially beneath his linens, but he was moaning softly. The more Alessandra’s eyes adjusted, the more she saw.

He was stroking himself.

The friendly, polite neighbour in her wanted to leave the room and give exhausted Tom some privacy, but the young woman who was helplessly attracted to this man stayed rooted to the spot. In fact, she found herself moving closer to his bed. Before Alessandra could stop herself, she was crawling onto the bed with him, her eyes locked on those graceful fingers of his grasping at his cock. Wetness began to burst forth, drop by slow drop, into her panties. Instinct moved Alessandra’s hand to brush some of the hair from Tom’s eyes, and he stirred slightly – still evidently in a deep sleep.

“Alessandra…” he moaned again, his face turning toward her soft touch, eyes still closed.

She knew she was a bitch for doing it, but she whispered softly, sensually to him to rouse him a bit, running a soothing hand down his arm, then down the hard muscle of his chest. “Tom,” she murmured, “wake up…”

His hips bucked slightly as he made another pass along the length of his erection, and he began to regain consciousness. Alessandra kept sweeping gentle touches along his skin as she knelt down beside his head.

“Do you want some chocolate, Thomas?” she crooned quietly at him, placing an unfair kiss against the pulse at his throat. “I promised you some…”

He lazily raised a hand to curl lightly around the back of her neck, and pulled her mouth extremely close to his. Her sharp intake of breath sounded thunderous to her own ears. The formation of each of his whispered words brushed his soft lips against her own.

“Make me cum, Alessandra.”

He’d opened his bleary eyes to stare at her, biting his bottom lip as he continued gaining awareness.

She didn’t need to be told twice.

Alessandra kissed him fully, thoroughly, on the mouth until he growled deep in his throat at her, both of his hands coming up to rest possessively against the nape and side of her neck. Before he could change his mind, she positioned her thighs on either side of his chest and slowly began working her way down his abdomen, lightly kissing and sucking at his clean skin, scraping her nails along the indentations of his muscles. He hissed in pleasure, half-sitting up with the sensations. When he collapsed back onto his pillows, his hands found their way into her hair – a move she was coming to enjoy the more he did it.

When his grip tightened and he tilted her head up, she removed her tongue from his bellybutton, staring up at him with fire in her eyes. He said nothing, just stared in her eyes for a long moment before nodding his head slowly, two times, signaling her to continue.

She licked a careful trail across his skin from one hipbone to the other, careful not to put any of her weight on his groin – she wanted to make him insane with his need for her.

Enjoy this while it lasts…

Alessandra raked nails down the inner part of Tom’s rigid thigh muscles, savouring the hissed fuck that fell from his lips as she did so.

“Hands by your head until I say so,” she smiled, and Tom complied immediately – much as he had during dinner. “Such a good neighbour.”

He tilted his head back and grinned, giving her a devious little laugh. But when she wrapped firm fingers around him, his steely gaze found hers again. She gave him three slow pumps, watching the breath exhale from him each time she swirled her small palm around the head of his cock. He was staring at her so intensely that her panties were stuck to her weeping pussy, flooding at the sight of him: muscled body, corded neck, sinful eyes, and moist mouth.

When he groaned, “yes, baby” at Alessandra, still staring obscenely at her, his jaw working overtime in concentration, all hell broke loose.

Sliding forward skillfully, she made sure he watched as she reached down and peeled her panties and boxers to one side before sliding her smooth, wet pussy atop his throbbing cock.

Tom threw his head back and stuttered, eyes closed.

She’d had enough of being polite. “Put your hands in my hair again, Thomas,” Alessandra commanded.

He whimpered in relief when he made contact with her dark red tresses once more.

“Good boy,” she laughed sweetly, starting to rub her swollen pussy lips against him very, very slowly. Then she stopped abruptly. Alessandra felt his fingers flex in her hair in frustration. “Up on your elbows, sweetheart,” she continued.

He was up in a flash, hands out of her hair and eyes looking down at the place where their bodies made contact.

“Look at my face, Tom. Yes, that’s good,” Alessandra rewarded him with a tiny stroke of her hips. He stared, slack-jawed at her beautiful face, willing himself to stay focused so she would reward him. “Now I want you to use those gorgeous muscles of yours and thrust against me.”

She had to slow him down twice, he was so eager for the friction they made together. But the picture he made, good God… His veined arms were trembling as he held himself up on elbows, desperately trying to keep his eyes locked on hers as his stomach muscles flexed over and over again, seeking relief. He was panting, clenching his jaw and saying her name in a pleading tone.


She began moving slowly with him, savouring the feeling of his cock rubbing against her aroused clit. One of her hands found purchase on his hipbone, steadying her as she continued to hold her panties to the side. Biting her lip in a fresh wave of her own arousal, Alessandra moaned quietly before asking Tom an unfair question.

“Do you want me to come over more often, Thomas?” her breath caught in her throat as a particularly strong stab of pleasure shot between her legs, and she leered at him darkly. He could barely form words, so intent was he on keeping the rhythm of their pleasure alive; she, however, stopped moving and awaited his response, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

In between heaving, aroused breaths, Tom answered her, stilling his own movements with immense effort.

“I want you t-to…come whenever you can, darling,” he stuttered adorably. “Please…”

Satisfied with his answer, and not a little pleased, Alessandra moved herself off of Tom quickly, relishing the yelp of disappointment that issued from him. And yet, when he saw her situate herself once more between his legs to bend down and place a soft little lick on the head of his painfully aroused cock, the yelp turned into a rather more vocal sound.

“Fucking yes...” he hissed, “put that beautiful mouth on my cock…do it…”

Alessandra was kidding herself if she didn’t admit that her mouth had been watering since she’d laid foot in Tom’s room to see him naked and asleep, teasing his dick. She’d worked him to the point where she couldn’t wait to suck him off, and she desperately wanted to feel his cum spurting down her throat as he fucked her mouth.

She wasn’t promiscuous, per se, but past boyfriends had always complimented her on her oral skills; however, she’d never been with anyone quite as endowed as Tom. The rumors were indeed true…she’d thought as much that time she’d taken care of him, catching a glimpse of him in boxers as he slept off his flu virus those few years ago. But now to have him here, hands laced back in her hair and hips desperately trying to rise up and meet her, she could definitely see how relaxed she’d have to be.

Her own arousal won out, though, and she had him as far into her throat as she could go, with one small hand covering the throbbing base of him, before he could urge her on any further. The traces of moisture she’d left on him earlier from her weeping center made her moan around him, the combination of her and him wildly intoxicating.

“Nngh…” Tom groaned at her sound, bucking his hips and grasping her hair with a bit more force than before. “Alessandra…”

Not only did she love the taste of him, but the sounds…he was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard – and that was before any of this had ever started! Now, with his cock pulsing between her lips and those delicious fingers in her hair, urging her up and down his length, she wanted to elicit as much noise from him as possible. She broke from him quickly, stroking him with her hand as she hissed another command.

“Talk to me, gorgeous boy.” And then she was deep-throating him best she could, sucking and slurping and moaning her appreciation at his beautiful body shaking and bucking beneath her.

“Feels so…ungh…good…my Alessandra…”

She was going to come – without being touched – if he kept saying her name like that.


Feeling his balls tightening, she knew he was close, and she took a chance, looking up to watch his beautiful face contort in pleasure, his eyes presumably closed.


His head and neck were craned uncomfortably, watching her every movement as his hips beat a harsh rhythm upward. When Alessandra’s eyes finally worked their way up to Tom’s, her tongue darting out momentarily to tickle the vein pulsing along his cock, his baby blues widened, nostrils flaring, and he began to shudder and chant.

“Fu-UCK! Yes…yes…yes…YES!”

His back was curling upward toward her, hands clenched in her hair as he howled his release, never looking away from her. Alessandra swallowed his salty spurts in satisfaction, continuing to suck at Tom softly, coaxing every last drop of cum from him.

“Alessandra…GOD…” his head finally dropped backward, shakes wracking his entire body as she drew out the orgasm as expertly as she could. “No more, darling…p-please,” he panted, groaning as he removed his hands from her long, wavy hair and began running them over his damp face.

She made one final impression on Tom when she took a last pass with her mouth from base to tip, licking lightly all the way up his softening cock.

Her reward was a violent, whole-body shudder.

Her second reward came when she moved off of him moments later, readjusting her panties and boxers, wiping her mouth politely. Tom was reaching out for her, a warm and sated smile on his face. He looked even more exhausted than when she’d met him in the foyer earlier, but the need on his face melted Alessandra. She crept down daintily beside him, allowing him to gather her in his arms.

This is new, she thought, closing her eyes as his warmth and scent washed over her.

His mouth found its way to the shell of her ear and Alessandra’s breath caught in her throat.

“You are absolutely gorgeous and you spoil me rotten,” Tom purred, dropping a series of warm, wet kisses against Alessandra’s neck. “Thank you for, uhm, taking care of me. I don’t think I’ve ever been attended to so…thoroughly.”

She felt him blushing, turning her head to place a hand sweetly on his face. He closed his eyes at her touch once more, and she knew now how tired he really was. She’d exhausted him even more.

Alessandra meant to place a tiny goodnight kiss on his lips, but as soon as she made contact, Tom livened up again, wrapping strong arms around her and licking at her mouth so he could taste her with his tongue. Melting against him, Alessandra wanted nothing more than to stay with him, in his bed, but she knew he’d let her keep him up all night.

He needed sleep, and lots of it.

Perhaps I could play with him tomorrow in the afternoon?

After several tries, she disentangled herself from her neighbour’s somewhat possessive grasp, kissing his forehead several times in apology. “You need to sleep, Thomas,” she scolded playfully, standing up from the bed and absently twirling a strand of hair around her index finger.

With heavy, petulant eyes, he tried to bargain with her. “But you can sleep in here with me, Alessandra,” he pouted adorably.

“Oh no you don’t,” she retorted, laughing a little at his deceptive ploy to lure her back in to bed. “I can tell you right now that if I stay in this bed there will be no sleeping.”

Might as well admit it out loud, she thought before she continued, backing away toward the door.

“Goodnight, Tom. Glad you’re home safe sweetheart,” Alessandra murmured, giving him a cute little smile.

His sexy, sleepy voice followed her into the hallway as she made her own way to bed.

“Goodnight, beautiful Alessandra.”



It took quite a bit of restraint to shut the door to the guest bedroom as quietly as she could, and Alessandra was in a hurry. She was agitated, flushed…extremely turned on by what had just happened. It hadn’t been planned, but Tom had been naked and…touching himself and then he asked her – asked her! – to get him off.

He was so warm and responsive, had been so eager to touch her and do as she bade him. And his body…that gorgeous, long, muscled body, thrusting and shaking for her.

She was tearing her boxers and panties off, reaching up not long after to yank the top over her head before hurling herself onto the guest bed, up on her knees.

Alessandra’s head fell forward as her hands traveled between her thighs, the fingers of her right teasing her painfully hard clit, and two of her left slipping easily into her soaked core. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, not wanting to cry out, but her overwhelming need for relief overruled her need to keep quiet.

Little pants issued from her swollen mouth, seeming to echo in the darkness of the guest room, as she tried to slowly stroke herself, tried to savour the fiery arousal between her shaking legs. The rich new cache of images in her mind – those of Tom and his body coming for her – spurred her onward faster than anything else she’d ever seen or done.

Spreading her knees wider, her hips working in time with her hands, Alessandra knew that her impending orgasm was going to be unbelievably strong and satisfying, and she also knew – from practice – that she could elongate it by focusing on thoughts of Tom. If anything, the very thought of him always made her come harder.

The first fluttering began in her belly, that delicious tingle that rewards the hard work of body and mind, together as one. And just as she was about to breathe out his name – quietly as she could manage - when the first contraction hit, the bedroom door flew open and a very naked, very still awake Tom had her hands behind her back, her soaked fingers clasped in one of his large hands.

She cried out in a mixture of surprise and extreme frustration at what he’d just robbed her of.

He, for his part, looked enraged.

That previously-sleepy face was mere centimetres from hers, his breath heaving out of him as much as hers was leaving her own body.

“NO,” he scolded in a stern, booming command. “On your back, Alessandra. Now.”