Lessons In Revenge (Daredevil Book 2)

Rapunzel? That bitch knows her shit

Nissa's POV

That was it. I was going to kill him. That was the only solution. I could easily sneak into his apartment, into his room, and bash his head in with his own hockey stick. It wouldn't be hard. There was no way the bastard would hear me over his bootie call's moans and sighs anyways. I could run in there screaming and waving my arms like a lunatic and they wouldn't hear.

"Oh yes, yes, mmm, harder-"

Oh my god.

Shut up.

Shut up.

"Yeah, baby, you're so fucking good at this."

Yeah, okay, I doubt he's that good.

"So so good."

Oh come on. There was no way he was that good...right?

"Yes."

Wait! Was I speaking out loud?

"Almost there, almost...ahh, mmm, yes." Sigh.

Finally.

Sighing heavily, while throwing a glare at the wall I shared with my neighbor and his recent over-enthusthiastic lay, I slumped back down onto my couch and pressed the un-mute button on my remote. I'd miss half of the episode of my favorite show because of the idiot.

This was every fucking day with the asshole. It was Wednesday for fucks sake. Shouldn't he be getting ready to go to bed or something? Who was I kidding? The jackass was a night owl, he wouldn't be going to bed anytime soon.

Shaking my head, I wiggled and twisted on my couch, trying to get comfortable again. Grabbing my forgotten cup of tea from off the side table, I went to take a sip, only to freeze midway when my door flew open, banging against the wall.

Standing in the doorway was none other than my annoying neighbor in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, his hair a tousled mess.

Do not look at his package. Do not look at his package. Do not-

Dammit.

"Do you have any whip cream? What am I saying, of course you do." I sat shocked as the bastard turned and headed towards my kitchen, giving me a nice view of his ass. I tried really hard not to picture that ass and whip cream and my tongue in the same picture.

Whelp, too late.

Whip cream, dumbass, he's taking your whip cream.

Shaking out of my initial shock, I shot up off my ass and rushed into my kitchen just as the idiot was closing my refrigerator door with my whip cream in his hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, placing my hands on my hips. He turned towards me then and gave me a tiny shrug.

"I need whip cream," he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He moved to walk out of the kitchen and I quickly moved to the entrance, blocking his only way out.

"That's my whip cream," I told him, tilting my head to look up at him, a defiant look on my face. I stretched out my hand, expectantly.

"Well, since you decided to waste all of mine last week on your little prank, this," he brought the can up to my eye level and shook it, "is mine."

"No, it's not, so give it back before I shove the entire can up your butthole, numbnuts," I answered, scowling.

How dare he? That prank had been all his fault. It wasn't my fault he couldn't take as good as he got.