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“Thump
“Oh, God��
Thump Thump

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I woke up faster this time, because I knew what I was hearing I sat up in bed, glaring behind me. The bed was still pulled safely away from the wall, so I felt no movement. But there sure as hell something moving over there.

Then I heard ……hissing?
I looked down at Clive, whose tail was at full puff. He arched his back and paced back and forth at the foot of the bed.

“Hey, mister. It’s cool. We just got a noisy neighbor, that’s all,�� I soothed, stretching my hand out to him. That’s when I heard it. “Meow��
I cocked my head sideways, listening more intently. I studied Clive, who looked back at me as if to say “T’weren’t me��.
“Meow! Oh, God. Me -Yow!��
The girl next door was meowing. What in the world was my neighbor packing to make that happen?
Clive, at this point, went utterly bonkers and launched himself at the wall. He was literally climbing it, trying to get where the noise was coming from, and adding his own meows to the chorus.

“Oooh yes, just like that, Simon…Mmmm��.Meow, meow, Meow!��

Sweet Lord, there were out-of-control pussies on both sides of this wall tonight.”
― Alice Clayton , Wallbanger

“The first thing I saw was blue. Blue sweater, blue eyes. Blue. Beautifully blue. Then I saw red as I recognized who belonged to the blue.

“Fucking Wallbanger,�� I hissed, frozen on the spot.

His grin slid off as well as he played place-the-face for a moment.

“Fucking Pink Nightie Girl,�� he finally concluded. He grimaced.

We stared, seething as the air literally turned electric between us, snapping and crackling.

The four behind us had fallen silent, listening to this little interchange. Then they caught up.

“That’s Wallbanger?�� Sophia screeched.

“Wait a minute, that’s Pink Nightie Girl?�� Neil laughed, and Mimi and Ryan snorted.

My face flamed bright red as I processed this information, and Simon’s sneer became that damnable smirk I’d seen that night in the hallway—when I’d banged on his door and made him quit giving it to the Giggler and yelled at him. When I’d been wearing��

“Pink Nightie Girl. Pink Nightie Girl!�� I choked out, beyond pissed. Beyond angry. Well into Furious Town. I stared at him, pouring all of my tension into that one look. All of the sleepless nights and lost Os and cold showers and banana thrusting and merciless wet dreams went into that one look.

I wanted to level him with my eyes, make him beg for mercy. But no…Not Simon, Director of the International House Of Orgasms.

He

Was

Still

Smirking.”
― Alice Clayton, Wallbanger

“I got in trouble for fondling buns,�� he whispered.”
― Alice Clayton, Wallbanger

“Be aware of the walls you build and what could be on the other side”
― Alice Clayton

“His gaze grew wistful, and he looked so young. 'I don't want to put things off, even though we haven't been together a really long time. I don't want to wait--you never know what can...Look. I adore you, and I want a home. Again. With you.”
― Alice Clayton, Rusty Nailed

“My boyfriend likes to fuck my brains out on our kitchen island. Which tile would you recommend for that?”
― Alice Clayton, Rusty Nailed

“Giggler, I think I hate you most of all.”
― Alice Clayton, Wallbanger

“I scrambled backward on the bed, moving toward the headboard.

"Where you going, sweet Caroline?" he asked, crawling across the bed to get to me.

"I wanted to hold on for this," I quipped, arching an eyebrow and my back as I grabbed on to the iron headboard.

"That's my girl.”
― Alice Clayton, Last Call

“The squeaks and sighs start up again. The moaning and thrashing and the banging echoes in my apartment, this time louder.
"Don't stop. Don't stop."
"Baby, I'm not going to."
"Please, give me more. Deeper."
"Do you like it like this?"
"Harder.”
― Samantha Verant, The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique

“Marry me.�� A statement. Not a question. It came again. “Marry. Me.�� His eyes burned into
mine. I breathed in, my ears ringing. My pulse sped up, my heart raced, I was trying to remember exactly what breathing meant. I was wet, and I was gasping.
“I want you. I want that, what they had today. I want it all, and I want it with you. I want you, want you to be my wife. I’ve got a ring, I’ll give it to you right now if you’ll say yes.�� With every
word, his hands tightened on my hips, desperate, crazy, longing. “I had this all planned out, so much smoother and romantic and everything you deserve. But my head’s been spinning since
yesterday, when I saw my best friend steal a van to go meet his new family. And all I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is exactly that. Exactly you. And when I walked up those stairs, and heard the
shower go on, and knew you were in here all naked and wet and waiting for me, I knew I couldn’t wait another day, another hour, another minute, without asking you to be my wife. So. Marry. Me.��
He knelt. Christ on a crutch, he knelt on the shower floor, where he had knelt countless times before . . . ahem . . . took my hand, and repeated those words
again. Finally, with a question mark at the end. “Marry me?��
And in that moment, I realized all the worrying, all the hand wringing and wonder ponder, all the thoughts about who says what’s right for a couple, and when is it too soon, and when is it the right time, and if it ain’t broke don’t blah blah blah. Fuck all that noise. It wasn’t about what was right for other couples, it was about what was right for us. Simon and me. Because when Wallbanger kneels down and asks you to be his wife, it’s not really something you need to think too long on. Funny thing about getting proposed to in a shower. You can’t tell which is water and which is tears.”
― Alice Clayton

“Is somebody having fake movie sex? Close encounters of the uncomfortable kind? My answer comes when animalistic moans echo in my apartment. They're coming from the vent, so I know they're coming from Anti-Keanu's apartment, and whoever is making the noise is definitely not in pain and she's definitely not eating. His words have the hairs on my arms standing on end.
"I'm going to lick the chocolate off every inch of your beautiful body, every curve."
"Oui, oui," says the woman with enthusiastic moans.”
― Samantha Verant, The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique