The Rebound Guy

By Leeanna White

A scorching hot romantic kinky comedy, with explosive chemistry, super charged love scenes, and laugh-out-loud moments. This novel is strictly for over 18s only.

 

Stacey

My husband is a dirty cheating ass-wipe. I have given him years of my life, and for what? For him to whip his bits out online for other women. I mean, when he slept with me he kept his goddamn socks on. Yes we were having a few problems, me being barren for one of them. But he could have left at any time he wanted. Well now I'm over him, all thanks to my new hot neighbor across the hall.

Cole

I intended my new apartment to be an escape for weekend pleasure. I intended to use it with Violet, my ever so dominating mistress. But since I found my neighbour, Stacey, crawling on all fours around my apartment, after she broke the law to find out what I hide in the bedroom, my interest in Violet has dwindled. Now my pleasure is directly across the hall.

 

Excerpt

Dammit. She is really fascinated by the idea, and I'm now extremely intrigued how far she will actually go. So much so, I'm heating up at the thought of her running the tails of a flogger through her fingers. But she knows nothing about this side of me. Am I going to have to explain the ins and outs to a beautiful novice?

"You should leave Stacey," I say, my chest hollowing with disappointment. "If you really want to do this, which I don't think you do, you have one week to make the call." I fill my lungs, watching her. "You call me, and I'll explain the next step."

"I don't think I can wait a week," she utters. "Jesus, you sent me flowers." Now she's getting angry again. "Just show me now."

"These are the rules," I state, holding back a satisfied smile. "You need to be ready, and mentally prepared. I'd like you to do things to me, that only the darkest part of your imagination could think of."

"So you don't want me right now?"

"Oh no. This is a part of the game Stacey. The wait. The anticipation. The sexual thoughts you're going to have from now until we meet again. They are all necessary for you."

Holy hell. This is hot. I've never had to explain this before. It's a game, and it's turning me on. I love the angry but needy look in her eyes. I love the fact I'm in pain, and she's not even touching me. She's proving to be excellent at this before she's even begun.

I bend and lift my car keys up from the couch. I walk toward her and take her cheek against the palm of my hand. Her eyes shut as she sighs out, and she brushes her face against my touch.

"I'm going to give you everything you want, Stacey. And in return, you're going to change for me. This," I say, indicating she shouldn't be like putty in my hands. "Won't be happening. You're going to have to." I angle down to her ear, tempted to kiss her, but refrain. "Show me your dominant side."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leeanna White
• Release date: Jul 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393050025

Book preview

Chapter 1: The Doormat

Stacey

Beads of sweat trickle down my spine. My abs, thighs, and calf muscles throb in frustration as they rotate harder against the pedals. I’m panting wild and wheezy, forcing my body to endure the agony. I need it. I need to feel something other than this mundane numbness inside, and spin class is the only way I can achieve it.

Most of the women here do this to keep their body in shape for the one and only love in their life. Some like I, have been married for years. Some have children and are trying to shift the baby weight. Some do it to mingle with others. And some do it for fun. I don’t do it for none of the above reasons. I do it to forget who I am for a while. For the one hour I’m here, three times a week, I push myself hard. I forget that I’m in a loveless marriage. I forget that the man I married five years ago, at the young age of twenty, is cheating on me. I forget that I can’t bare his children. I forget that I’ve become hollow inside.

The dance beat stops and Paula, our squeaky over-excitable instructor, slows the rhythm with everyone else. I push out three more rotations and lean over the handlebars, breathing heavy to steady my pulse.

Good work guys, Paula shouts with hissing words. Same time on Friday.

I sweep my towel off the handlebars as I dismount, then make my way to the changing room.

I watch the shampoo suds drain away, my mind slowly but surely descending into turmoil. The sound of girly chatter and laughing dies away, as my eyes close in dread. I think that rather than going through the motions of tonight, I’d much prefer to stay in the changing room here at Tone to Tone gym. I’m not looking forward to going home, but know I can’t make up the excuse that I’m needed at work. Most nights this excuse would work well, it would give Scott a reason to bang one of his other mistresses. But it’s our anniversary, and I have to keep up appearances.

I know in some irregular way he still loves me. I know he misses the old me. I know that since I found out my womb was a barren waste of flesh, I’ve changed. Most women would say it’s no excuse. For better or worse and all that other bullshit. That I should kick him out and embrace the single life, have fun, and play the field. But it’s so hard when you’ve been with someone for so long. They become more than just a spouse and lover. They become a part of you like family. Like blood. You can’t just end it and expect the easy ride. There will be heartache in some form, and I don’t know if I can deal with that yet. It feels like I need to prepare myself for the inevitable.

I stuff my crop top and vest into my gym bag, when my cell phone vibrates once beneath my water bottle. I’m reluctant to look because I know it will be Scott. Tonight will be the first time in a month, we go out and play the happy married couple we’re not, at my favorite restaurant, Giovanni’s.

I press on the green tab and read:

Stacey, I’m just finishing up at the office.

Hope you enjoyed spin class. See you soon x

I drop my cell phone back into my bag with my head down, and make my way through the gym.

I’M WEARING THE DRESS Scott finds me irresistible in; a black body-con backless number with a high neck. He knows that when I wear it, it’s his lucky night. But the asshole is late, and my mind is slowly spiraling into lunacy. I’m flushing with fury and feel fucking stupid for going to all this effort for him. I’m ready to explode.

I finger through my curled hair, and fasten the butterfly backs on my diamond platinum ear studs. The apartment door slams shut as I squirt a drop of perfume onto my wrists. Why I don’t know, because I have no intention of celebrating this screwed up marriage now. It’s been two hours since he texted me, and it only takes him thirty minutes to get home from his office.

Hey. He hustles into our room, pulling off his tie as he makes his way into the wet room. Sorry I’m late, he calls out, flicking on the shower. Paul wanted me to go over building plans for the new government build. Lazy asshole. He walks to the bed then stops to look me over. He... he messed up the locations of the fire exits. He removes his shirt, still eyeing me up and down with his horny gaze. You look beautiful, Stacey.

I can’t help it. I’m smirking at him. I can see the lying lines around his brown eyes. The way he rushes his lying words is a dead giveaway. His whole body tells me he’s been fucking some other bitch on our wedding anniversary. Usually I’d let it slide because I’m weak and can’t be bothered with a full on slanging match. But I’ve just made all this effort to look good for him, and it’s a waste of time. I’ve been hiding the resentment and now it’s bubbling to the surface.

I can’t do this anymore. I’ve given him eight years of my life, and I’ve been hanging on by a thread, hoping that the love we had when we were teenagers, returns. When he used to look at me like a woman, and not just some object with no feelings or needs. But it’s all gone now. I’m in this bottomless black hole, fighting to swim up for air.

What? he says, his toned chest swelling with a breath.

I can’t deny that Scott has a great body. He doesn’t exercise much, and he can basically eat what he wants. When we started dating at high school, I thought I was the luckiest girl alive. He was popular; the main striker for the soccer team. He was sweet, sexy, and gave me butterflies with the slightest touch. He was my first love, and as I look at him now, he’ll be my last. I can honestly say, thanks to all these wasted years, that I’m off men completely.

Was it that new girl, Tina, or your old favorite, Diane? I nearly growl at him.

Stacey. He sighs, avoiding eye contact. You really want to do this tonight?

God, he’s not going to try and deny it, is he?

Yes I fuckin do!

He turns his back on me and begins to walk to the door. But this time he’s going to listen. He’s going to hear what I have to say. Screw being a doormat. I will not be walked over any more. Facts have to be faced.

My bare feet charge across the thick cream carpet, along the hall, and into our newly modernized kitchen.

He opens the fridge. Light casts around his torso as he pulls out a beer, then takes a large swig.

Nothing to say then? I shout at his bare back. Because you can’t deny it Scott, can you?

You’ve lost your mind, Stacey. He turns to face me with his lying narrow eyes. I love you. You know that.

No Scott, you are used to me. You’re bored, and like some hormonal teenager, you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, I scream at him so loud my throat hurts. I’ve seen your secret email account, Scott. You sent photos of your dick to Diane two days ago, and you’re on a fucking dating site, showing any goddamn female your penis. When I’m in bed at night, I can hear you jerking off, you sick shit!

He’s speechless and red in the face. He really thought that I was gullible and stupid, and that I wouldn’t find out. I’ve been blaming myself all this time, and I hate him for it.

Fuck... Stacey. He places his beer on the marble work surface, shaking his head. I... I...

Don’t bother, Scott.

I turn and march through the archway, listening to him chasing after me. I make it to the bedroom and go to slam the door on him, but he stops me by grabbing my arm. I scowl up to his face and see tears in his eyes. He’s only upset because I know his dirty secrets.

I haven’t fucked anyone Stacey.

I yank my arm free from his hold. You expect me to believe that!

I was just messing around, he states as I move away from him, gasping. I’ve been a dick, and was just curious. You have to believe that I do love you. His body sways in a needy way before me. Look, since our last appointment with Dr. Polanski, you’ve been in a bad place. We’ve talked about this, and there are other routes we can take: IVF, adoption, whatever you want, we’ll do it.

Oh my god. Are you being serious! I scream at him, making a fist.

My heart stops beating for a second as my lungs empty. I’m physically shaking, and now my hand is flying up to his face. I hit him so hard my palm tingles and stings. He staggers back, holding his cheek.

Shit... Stacey.

Don’t you dare throw that shit at me. Do you honestly think I want a baby with you now? I hold my hand hard against my thigh to stop myself hitting him again. Whatever situation we’re in, you’d still be screwing some other slut. I’m so... so glad we never had kids Scott, because you’re a complete waste of oxygen. A devious cheating asshole husband, and you’d be a shit Dad!

Stacey... please. He moves toward me with pleading eyes.

We’re through, Scott, I say, pushing him away. Would you forgive me if I went out and fucked some other guy, and called it curiosity? His head lowers in shame. No, didn’t think so.

Please Stacey, he begs. We can work this out... can’t we?

I want a divorce. I want you out of this apartment in ten minutes! I point to the door. And I’m not going to let this nice dress go to waste. I deliberately run my hands over my thighs, wiggling my hips so he gets the message. I might just let the first guy that buys me a drink, tear it off me so he can fuck me! That won’t happen. It’s not something I’d really do. I just want to cause as much pain to him as possible.

I watch the red anger coat his cheeks, as the tiny vein in his forehead swells at the thought of me in bed with another man. I want him to be angry, sad, and hopelessly messed-up. I want him to know, just how over we truly are.   

Where am I supposed to go, Stacey? He chokes up.

I smirk at him. I don’t know, or care. I’m sure one of your little sluts will accommodate your tiny little dick for a few nights!

Do you want me to beg? Coz Stacey, I’ll do anything.

I want you to leave. So I can go out and for the first time in years, have some fun. I’m single now!

I stride through to the bedroom door and slam it on him. A weight has lifted from my chest, and for the first time in months, I feel light and empowered.

I DROP DOWN ONTO THE couch with a glass of white wine. He’s been packing a bag for ten minutes. I know exactly what will happen next. He will presume I have calmed down and will give him another shot. Well he’s mistaken.

As I slide my glass on the coffee table, he enters the room. I frown at his bag. A small overnight bag, which means he’s going to have to come back.

I’ll put the rest of your things out in the hall so you can pick them up. I don’t want to see you again, I say, turning away from his sad eyes.

That’s it then?

Oh my god, Scott. I jump up from the couch, that red mist swirling around me again. I don’t love you anymore. And from your actions, you don’t love me either. I’ve fucking tried so hard, but you don’t care. You’ve been screwing other women.

Like I said, I haven’t fucked no one, Stacey.

I smirk out in a long breath. Well, throwing one off with some other girl online is the same goddamn thing. Now get out!

I wait for him to go, but he doesn’t. He just lingers behind the couch staring at me.

This is also my apartment, Stacey, he says in a more threatening tone. I paid for it outright.

My jaw falls open and I have to snap it shut. You want to play dirty, because I have all the dirty on you, I yell. The nasty pictures you took with Anna, your nineteen year old assistant, are all on my phone. As are some really shady video clips with the Russian girls you paid a small fortune to stream onto your computer. Do you want me to show them to your boss? I’m sure he’ll be grateful to know his most senior architect is screwing every intern he employs, and likes to whip out his cock online!

His face is as white as fresh snow, he’s shaking, and his jaw is clamped down so hard his cheekbones swell. I didn’t want to go this far, but he’s given me no choice. Deep down, he’s probably one of the best friends I’ve ever had. We’ve known each other since kids. All I need now, is for this to conclude in an amicable manner. I don’t want a war.

Scott, I call out in a softer voice, watching him lower his head. You know this has to happen.

His head tilts up and his gaze hits me with emotion. He flings the bag over his shoulder, shaking his head.

You’re right. He releases a long breath. But about one thing you’re not. He pauses, taking a lengthy look right into my eyes. I do love you, Stacey. I always will.

He walks down the hall and closes the apartment door, as I struggle to keep in the tears.

Chapter 2: The Peephole

Stacey

Four weeks, post Scott

Ijust cannot get used to sleeping in this big bed all by myself. It’s not that I miss Scott. On the contrary, I’m finally getting something that resembles an independent life. I’ve been out with friends every weekend. I’ve partaken in harmless flirtatious encounters with some pretty hot guys. I’ve even been offered a promotion at the accounting firm I work at, Randall & Hopkins Corporation. I should be away with the fairies by now, fast asleep in the land of nod, but I’m not. I miss a man being beside me in bed. I miss the security and the warmth. My bed is now as cold as a stone slab.

I bounce and flip myself over to face the door, when an almighty bang and smash comes from the corridor outside. Someone is either trying to break into my apartment, or number eighteen across the hall, which has been empty for twelve months.

My hand is on my pounding chest as I sit upright, listening carefully. I hear a muffled voice, and my adrenalin fueled heightened senses pick up heavy footsteps.

Shit, I hiss, grabbing my cell-phone from the bedside table, while swinging my legs out of bed.

I reach out to the bedroom door handle, holding my breath, readying my finger to speed dial 911.

Slowly, I creep down the hallway to the front door, focusing on the peephole. My eyes adjust to the shadows as I move, noting that the voice isn’t in my apartment, but outside. I take in a brisk breath of relief, glad no one is in my apartment.

I make it to the peephole. I’m not going to open the door, just get a look at who’s out there. The palm of my left hand lands silently on the door frame, as I angle forward. I squint, focusing on the bright hallway outside.

Goddamn it, a male voice utters.

As if on a trampoline, a broad figure suddenly springs up right in front of my door. I expel a sharp gasp and back away a few steps. But again I let my curiosity get the better of me, and I’m once more, squinting through the peephole.

Wow, this guy has muscles on his muscles. He’s wearing torn blue jeans with this white fitted t-shirt that flatters every inch of his firm physique. I’m supposed to be making sure he’s not some crook, but find my eyes transfixed on his shoulder blades protruding, and his biceps bulging as he lifts up a box.

Okay, he must be moving into the only other apartment on this floor, across from mine. I can see the open door has a key in it. I see another box on the floor inside. I see a long black trunk with a padlock, and I also notice a strange metal contraption in sections, propped up against the wall.

As my new neighbor carries another box inside, I press my face closer to the wood, feeling my warm shallow tense breaths bouncing back into my face. I know this is wrong. It’s stalking behavior. But this guy has just ripped his t-shirt over his head like a professional stripper, and is wiping the sweat from the back of his neck with it. I bite my bottom lip hard, bending my knees a little as he stoops over in slow-motion to lift up another box. Oh god, he’s so hot.

He disappears for a second then comes back into view. I can tell he’s trying to be quiet, he’s moving slow and cautious. He takes hold of a section of the strange metal frame, then with his spare hand quickly grabs another. He looks side to side with an almost guilty expression, then his head turns to face my damn door. My hand flies up to my mouth to muffle a gasp. He can’t see me, can he? Unless he has the ability of x-ray vision, I should be safe.

He turns away with a ginger expression on his face; a naughty sinister look as he carries the bulky contraption into his apartment. I need to stop this. I should go back to bed. I can’t stand here all night. Or can I?

I move my eyes back an inch, but catch sight of something in his hand which has my nose pressed right up against the door again. I hold my breath. My heart beats deep and so loud I can hear it. My mouth opens and legs shiver. He’s pulling