For the third time that week, Penny Dare lay naked in her bed and plotted her neighbor’s untimely death. Only something slow, painful and publicly humiliating would make up for being repeatedly woken up at three in the morning to usually one woman, but occasionally more, loudly moaning praises to the cock of wonders that her neighbor apparently had. Judging by the way her headboard jolted forward in time with the rhythmic banging on the other side of the wall dividing their condos, it must be soda can thick and anaconda long to require such a vigorous workout.
She hadn’t had four good night’s sleep in a row since he’d moved in six weeks ago and installed a revolving door to his bedroom. Neither notes slipped under his door nor complaints to the building manager had made any difference to the neighbor who was never seen but sure as hell made his presence known.
“Fuck this shit.” Penny tossed her covers aside and stomped out into her living room. If nothing else she could check her e-mail for more proof she had a tattoo design thief at Daring Ink.
Her phone lay on top of the wireless speaker and she got an idea. Check that. She got a revenge fantasy worthy fucking brilliant idea. In the time it took to download a death metal playlist, she’d gathered every wireless speaker in her house and placed them against the shared bedroom wall. Thanks to the gift from surprise-I’m-your-dad Paul Dare who couldn’t fathom not being totally rich and living in huge ass mansion, she had enough wireless Bose speakers to put three in every room in her one bath, one bedroom, kitchen-living room combo condo.
The noise coming through the wall had slowed, but Mr. Anaconda Cock on the other side had a pattern. This was only the calm before the porn star level pre-orgasmic screeching began. One. Two. Three. Bam! Right on schedule the “fuck me harder with that big dick” squealing started. She double checked that each one of the speakers would pick up her cellphone’s signal and hit play.
Screaming guitars, pounding drums and a man yelling along to the beat erupted out of the speakers so loudly the floor vibrated beneath Penny’s feet. It was glorious. She clapped her hands over her ears and ran out of the room to the farthest point from the cacophony—the kitchen where she grabbed a beer from the fridge and toasted her brilliant maneuver.
She was halfway through the brew when the hammering started on her front door.
Oops. Looked like she’d ruined the fun.
Taking her time, she strolled past the front door and into to the bedroom where she hit stop on the music. A quiet fell so completely that she could almost hear Mr. Anaconda Cock’s dick shriveling up. Her work here was done.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. The pounding on her front door echoed through her condo.
She slipped on an oversized Daring Ink Tattoo Studio T-shirt and made her way to the front door. Peeking out her peephole all she could see was a police badge.
That asshole had called the cops? On her?! Oh this would not stand.
She yanked open the door. “I don’t suppose the douchebag told you—”
The rest of the words fell out of her head and crash landed on the hardwood floor.
The half naked man in front of her was too much to process. Broad shoulders. Arm-porn worthy biceps. Washboard abs dissected by a dark honey colored happy trail that disappeared behind the waist of his jeans that hung low on his hips revealing the tops of whatever those sexy V things were called. Unable to stop herself she had to look.
Yep. That was a big ole make you scream every name in the phonebook bulge in his pants.
She forced her gaze to make the reverse journey back up all that muscle. By the time she’d made it up to the smirk curling his thick lips upward and the smug hey-baby look in his blue eyes, oxygen had returned to her brain along with the sinking suspicion that this hot cop was her asshole neighbor.
“You’re Mr. Anaconda Cock?”