Worst Kind of Wrong

Chapter 2

Charlie

I get home and change for sports clothes, going out for a run.

Because I'm a lucky girl, it starts to rain just when I'm two blocks away from home in a white shirt and beige leggings. I get soaked after a few seconds. 

Shit.

Doing a serious cardio workout, I run home. When I arrive at the building, I face my new neighbor, whose name I still don't know, and I silently ask God if I'll have to see him whenever I leave the house.

We looked at each other in silence and walked to the elevator without saying a word. We don't have to pretend to be nice to each other, because we both know we don't like each other.

As we wait for the elevator, I feel his gaze traveling down my body and landing on my chest, where my black bra starts to show itself.

His gaze is like a burn on my skin, and I feel my body shivering under is gaze.

"What?" I turn to him, looking at him angrily.

"You're soaking wet."

He's just stating a fact, but he means dirty. I know it and he knows it. 

For some reason, those words make me hot, even though I've just been caught in a downpour.

"It's raining, in case you haven't noticed" I say, trying to look indifferent to his words.

"Oh, I noticed. I really, really noticed" he says slowly while is gaze devours my body "In fact, I'm noticing it right now"

I look at him, but his gaze is on my tits. My lace bra is now completely visible. I should call him a pervert, but his gaze burns on my skin and I'm getting too hot.

Why is it so hot in here?

When I open my mouth to call him an asshole, the elevator door opens, but he takes a step back.

"I'll take the stairs" he tells me in a husky voice, and he disappears up the stairs.

Conor

Fuck, I need to get laid.

I almost had another hard-on in front of the annoying neighbor. In my defense, she was hot as hell. And really wet. I could see her black bra under her wet white t-shirt.

I mean, yes, she's beautiful and all that, but I've never been that hard just by seeing a drenched girl. On top of that, she's just that. A girl. I bet she's about ten years younger than I am. 

I blame my lack of sex. And that needs to end today.

It's the perfect night to go out and explore the city. I managed to uncover some clues about Andrew's possible whereabouts, and I know I'll be able to find him in the next few weeks. I've hired a private detective who is trying to get information from his father. He's Andrew's only family and he has to know where he is.

I walk into the bar closest to my building that has a kind of Irish style and good vibes. I see some hot chicks looking at me as I sit on the bar and I return with a smile. 

The classic Conor's smile that I know makes them ruffled.

I'm a dude. I like to fuck. 

But I never lied to a girl about my intentions. Before they go home with me, they know exactly what they're getting from me. I'm no prince charming, but I make a point of satisfying them as much as they satisfy me. 

I'm good in bed, and I know it, so it's a win-win situation.

I order a double whiskey and notice a girl alone at the bar drinking a glass of wine. In less than five minutes I get her attention, find out that her name is Lindsay and that she has just been dumped by her boyfriend. When I decide it's too much drama for me, she surprises me.