Chapter Four

‎"I wanna f**k you till you weep out my name. Till you feel me in your dreams riding you, I want to f**k you, slam my c**k into you till you can never be satisfied by anyone else again" he said looking me dead in the eyes.

‎

‎"Well what are you waiting for? A written invitation?" I responded coyly.

‎

*********************************

They got out of the water... For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They just stared at each other, their bodies humming from what had just happened. Then Johnny smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.

“Hell of a way to find out what kind of neighbor you are,” he murmured, voice low and teasing.

Charlotte laughed, but her laughter carried a nervous edge. “Well… you’ve definitely raised the bar for neighborly favors.”

Her lips parted, heat rising in her chest again—not just from the memory of him inside her, but from his honesty. She turned to face him fully, pressing one wet palm against his chest. “You should’ve said something sooner, Johnny. I thought you were just… polite. The quiet type. I didn’t know you were watching me like that.”

“Watching?” He chuckled softly, leaning in until his breath tickled her lips. “More like wanting. Every damn day.”

She shivered, trapped between his gaze and the truth unraveling between them. “You know what’s crazy? I thought about you too. Every time I saw you fixing that old car in your driveway, shirt sticking to your back, muscles straining—I’d rush back inside before I embarrassed myself.”

“Apparently.” She tilted her head, tracing his jawline with her fingers, savoring the rasp of stubble. “Maybe it wasn’t torture. Maybe it was waiting… for the right night.”

Johnny kissed her then, slow and deliberate this time, tasting of chlorine and desire. When he pulled back, his voice was rougher, more serious. “Charlotte, I don’t want this to just be… poolside fun. I want more. I don’t even know if you’re ready for that, but I had to say it.”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t look away. “I’m not interested in being your secret either, Johnny. If this goes somewhere… it goes all the way.”

His grip on her hips tightened, his eyes locking onto hers like he was memorizing her. “Then let’s not waste another damn day pretending.”

She smiled against his lips before kissing him again, wetter, hungrier.

They sat side by side on the patio chairs, the air heavy with chlorine and something much more intoxicating. For the first time that night, their breathing slowed, and they weren’t just neighbors who’d crossed a forbidden line—they were two people who suddenly had no reason to keep hiding.

Charlotte pulled her towel tighter around her chest and looked at him, really looked. “You keep saying you’ve wanted this for a long time… but what about before? What were you really running from?”

Johnny leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing at the stars as if he was searching for an answer there. His voice was low, gravelly. “I don’t talk about my past much. Not because I’m ashamed… but because I don’t like dragging people into it. But with you, Charlotte…” He turned his head, eyes locking onto hers, raw and unguarded. “With you, I want to. I want you to know me. Every scar. Every damn reason I’ve kept my distance.”

Her chest tightened, warmth and nerves collided in her belly. “Then tell me.”

He hesitated, running a hand through his damp hair. “My last relationship wasn’t just bad. It was… dangerous. She wasn’t who I thought she was, and I almost lost everything because of her. Trust, my business, my peace. It messed me up more than I let on.”

Charlotte reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. Her voice softened. “You don’t have to protect me from your truth. I can handle it, Johnny. What I can’t handle is you shutting me out.”

He looked down at their joined hands, his thumb stroking over her knuckles. “That’s the thing—I don’t want to shut you out. I want to let you in. But if I do…” He trailed off, jaw tightening.

Her heart pounded. “If you do what?”

Johnny leaned in, his lips brushing just close enough to make her shiver. His voice was a low rasp. “If I do… you’ll find out that my past isn’t finished with me.”

Before she could respond, the crunch of footsteps echoed from beyond the fence. Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.

Both their heads snapped up. Charlotte’s pulse spiked. Johnny’s entire body went rigid, his eyes suddenly sharp, protective.

Then a voice cut through the night. Familiar. Female. Cold.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?”

Charlotte froze. Johnny’s face was drained of color.

The woman standing just outside the gate was the last person he ever expected to see again.

*********************************************

Charlotte’s towel slipped loose around her shoulders, but she didn’t move to fix it. Her entire body was frozen, the weight of that woman’s voice pressing against her skin like ice.

Johnny stood slowly, every muscle in his body pulled tight. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was steady, but Charlotte could hear the edge underneath—like a man standing on the brink.

The woman stepped closer, her heels clicking against the concrete path leading to the patio. The porch light caught her face, and Charlotte’s stomach twisted. She was stunning—tall, dark hair, lips painted blood red—but her beauty carried something venomous, sharp.

“I told you,” the woman purred, eyes flicking to Charlotte with a smirk, “you don’t get rid of me that easily.”

Charlotte swallowed hard, trying to mask the sudden surge of insecurity crawling up her throat. She looked between Johnny and this stranger, but her gut already told her who it was. “This is her, isn’t it?” she whispered, her voice breaking the silence. “The one you were telling me about.”

Johnny’s jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. “Charlotte, go inside.”

“No,” Charlotte shot back, rising to her feet. Her pulse hammered, but her voice was steady. “If she’s part of your past, then I'm part of this conversation. I’m not hiding.”

The woman’s smirk widened, her gaze sliding lazily over Charlotte before locking back on Johnny. “She’s feisty. I can see why you’re playing house with her. But tell me, Johnny… Did you tell her what you owe me?”

Charlotte’s breath hitched. “Owe you?” She turned to Johnny, searching his face. His silence was louder than any answer.

The woman stepped closer, her perfume sharp and intoxicating. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, eyes glittering with cruel delight. “Your perfect neighbor-boy here isn’t as innocent as he pretends. He made promises. Promises he couldn’t keep. And I’m here to collect.”

Johnny moved forward in a blur, blocking Charlotte from her. His voice was deadly low. “Stay away from her. This is between you and me.”

But Charlotte barely heard him. Her chest tightened, words echoing inside her skull. Owed me. Promises. Collect.

The world seemed to tilt, and before she could stop herself, the question tumbled out—sharp, trembling.

“Johnny… what did you do?”

His eyesmet hers, and for the first time since she’d known him, Charlotte saw real fear there.