Jane's Austen: The Boy Next Door (hot erotica)

Jane's Austen: The Boy Next Door (hot erotica) by Melody Banks Page A

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Authors: Melody Banks
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ask, trying to keep my voice steady. I’m having a hard time breathing properly, although I’m not sure why. There’s something about the way he’s staring at me that’s making me slightly nervous. “So, um…uh, does that mean you’re transferring to the local college,” I stammer. Last I heard he was at Notre Dame.
    “ No,” he says. “I’m taking a year or two off. I started an internet company my freshman semester and it’s been doing well…really well, actually. Well enough that I was able to buy my parents’ old house. I just closed yesterday.”
    You mean the house next door to me? I don’t have time to say it out loud, before he adds, “So I guess this makes us neighbors again. Assuming you still live there.”
    “I do,” I answer, balancing my coffee in my hands. My grip has gotten suddenly unsteady, and I’m nervous that I might drop the hot beverage on the floor. I’d seen the Gates house go up for sale a few months ago when Austin’s parents moved out. It’s been sitting on the market empty ever since. The economy’s tough right now, so it’s not easy to move property. When I saw the for sale sign come down, I assumed the Gates had decided to lease it out. I never even considered they might be selling it to their son.
    “Awesome! ” Austin says. “Well, neighbor, you and I have to get reacquainted.”
    “ That sounds good,” I say.
    “ How about I buy you a drink?” he asks.
    “Oh, I’ve already got one, thanks.” I hold up my coffee.
    “ I wasn’t talking about a coffee….I meant a real drink.”
    What? Now I’m totally thrown off. Is Austin Gates asking me out? No, it can’t be. Before I can answer he says, “Just kidding! I don’t turn twenty-one for another t(hree weeks. So coffee’s about the strongest drink I can buy.”
    Oh, God. I feel like a fool. Of course he’s not asking me out. I’m sixteen years older than, his mother’s friend. I remember how old people in their thirties seemed when I was in my twenties. To Austin, I might as well be a hundred.
    “Anyway, I should probably get going.”
    “Me too,” he says. “I’ve got to hit the gym.”
    “I just came from there,” I admit. “Of course, I’m completely undoing it at the moment.” I hold up the cookie.
    “A little splurge now and then doesn’t hurt. Where do you work out?”
    I tell him I’m a member at the gym downtown.
    “You ought to come by my gym sometime,” he says. “ I just joined Xpedia Fitness and they gave me a bunch of free passes. We could work out together.”
    “ Sure,” I say, not expecting anything to come of this. I certainly don’t expect him to suggest a specific time.
    “How about Thursday? I’m moving in the morning, but I could meet that evening if you’re free?”
    This catches me off guard. I truly thought this was one of thos e empty offers people make, kind of like suggesting “let’s get lunch” when you know it will never happen.
    I’m tempted to say no. The idea of meeting Austin to work out is more than a little bit intimating – he’s half my age and he’s got muscles that go on for days. There’s no way I’ll be able to keep up. I’m about to invent an excuse, when I think, Oh, what the hell? What have I got to lose? It’s just a harmless workout. And from the looks of Austin he definitely knows he’s way around a gym – I’ve been wanting to step up my diet and exercise routine, so there’s no reason not to go for it.
    “ I’m free Thursday,” I tell him. “Although, you have to promise not to leave me in the dust.”
    He laughs. “Hey, don’t knock yourself.” He gives me a quick once over. “For all we know this might be the other way around, you might be the one leaving me in the dust. I hope this doesn’t cross a line, but I have to say, Ms. Selby, you’ve got an incredible body for a woman your age,” he says approvingly.
    “Thanks,” I say, trying not to bristle at the “for a woman your age” part. I’m sure he

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