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Chapter 2
The sounds of music and laughter filled the air outside Sarena Rucker’s house. She had moved into her home a couple months before and had met all of her neighbors except the one holding a party in his backyard.
The smell of delicious barbecue was flowing through her open windows, and her stomach rumbled. She was tempted to crash her neighbor’s party just to grab a plate and chuckled as she stretched out on her couch. Tonight she was off work and would be a couch potato. She was sure if she wanted, she could call her best friend, Ronnie, for a fun night out on the town.
Not tonight.
Tonight, she wanted to drink her wine and binge on all her shows she was behind on.
But the smell of the food was calling her.
Okay, maybe she should eat food with her wine, but that would mean she’d have to get up and cook.
Not happening.
She grabbed her phone and placed a call to her favorite Chinese restaurant that delivered. Within seconds, her food was ordered with the promise of delivery in about forty-five minutes.
“This is going to be a perfect night,” she murmured as she aimed the remote at her DVR and hit her first show. “Wine and dine myself tonight.”
Her thoughts turned back to her party-throwing neighbor. Every time she saw him, she practically drooled. She was sure that any woman with a pulse threw herself at him. Why wouldn’t they? He was extremely tall compared to Sarena’s five-foot-four frame. Muscles on top of muscles that he always had on display when he cut his grass. She lived for Sundays when he was out in the yard topless with a pair of shorts on while he mowed his lawn.
Just thinking of him pushing the lawnmower caused a shiver to slide down her spine. His chest glistened with perspiration on sunny mornings. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that a couple of times she’d slid her fingers between her moist folds and flicked her bean till she climaxed watching him.
Nope, not at all.
That’s how hot her neighbor was.
Marcas MacArthur was downright sexy, and him being a cop just fulfilled her fantasies of him all the more. Her elderly neighbor, Janet, was the street gossip and had told Sarena all she needed to know about Officer MacArthur.
Ex-Navy. Cop. Single.
Now all Sarena had to do was work up the nerve to approach the man.
She looked over at her wineglass and noticed it was empty.
“Refill time,” she muttered and swung her legs off the couch. She stood and walked into her kitchen, breathing in the mouth-watering smell of barbecue still making its way in through the window.
Nosey, she moved over to stare out into the backyard. Quite a few men stood around his patio. Smoke lingered in the air, but she was able to see the men were all muscular and tall. Her mouth dropped open.
“Maybe I should call Ronnie over here.” She chuckled. She knew her best friend would have a heart attack with all the good-looking man specimens in her neighbor’s yard.
She gazed around her kitchen to see what excuse she could use to step out into her backyard so she could get a better glimpse of her neighbor. Her gaze fell on her trashcan.
How about that? It was full. Now she wouldn’t be a good homeowner, allowing her trash to be full, would she?
She glanced down at her clothes. Shorts that stopped mid-thigh and a t-shirt that cut off above her belly button, showing off her smooth brown skin. She was thick and knew her curves attracted most men. She bit her lip, her confidence wavering as she thought of her neighbor. He was the epitome of fitness, while she was short, thick, and curvy.
Recently, she had started running to try to get in shape. She didn’t want to lose her curves but wanted to ensure she was healthy.
According to Janet, he had his team over every few months or so. This must be what she had been speaking of.
She moved over and grabbed her trash, tying it closed, then opened her back door. She made her way over to her detached garage. She could instantly feel eyes on her as she walked barefoot across her yard.
Conversation at the party ceased.
She bit back a smirk and innocently placed her trash into her large garbage can that sat next to her garage. She knew Marcas was looking at her. She could always tell when she was out jogging that he watched her. Even the few times she had passed him when he was on his front porch, she’d felt his eyes on her.
Her nipples tightened, and she turned. Her breath caught in her throat, just imagining his eyes taking her in, and moisture collected within her folds. All of the men in his yard looked as if they were perfectly chiseled sex Gods, but she only had eyes for one of them.
