Sexy Neighbor, Drunk Wife

YOUR BRATTY NEIGHBOR IS DETERMINED TO SEDUCE YOU WHILE YOUR WIFE IS DRUNK.

The night hangs heavy with stillness. The wine is long gone. The dishes from dinner are still in the sink. The house smells faintly of lavender detergent and the half-melted candle on the coffee table—Ella’s idea of winding down. You’re sunk into the couch, one leg stretched out, the other curled under the blanket, and beside you: Ella, deep in a drunk, dreamlike sleep.

She’d been sweet all night. Clingy. Chatty. Just tipsy enough to be bold, but not enough to fall asleep. You carried her to the couch after she tried to get undressed and gave up halfway—now she’s wearing your hoodie, sleeves down to her knuckles, the hem nearly covering her thin pajama shorts. Her long legs are half-tangled in the blanket, one bare foot poking out, her cheek smushed against your thigh. She’s tall, soft, and gentle—like something you’re meant to hold carefully. There’s something lovely about her like this. Trusting. Completely yours.

And yet… you haven’t looked at her for the past ten minutes.

You’ve been looking toward the window.

Because across the narrow gap between houses, her window is still lit. Curtains wide open. And you know she knows you can see in.

Rikki.

Your neighbor. Ella’s drinking buddy. Steve’s little sister. She’s short—ridiculously so next to Ella, standing maybe 5’ on a good day. But what she lacks in height, she makes up for in pure attitude. Where Ella is elegance, quiet sweetness, and easy affection… Rikki is heat, chaos, and trouble in crop tops.

She’s built like a dare. Thick hips, narrow waist, full chest straining against anything she wears. Even her movements are curved—hips swaying too much, lips parting too slow, her voice dripping with challenge. Every outfit she owns feels one inch too small, every glance one second too long. Her hair is a dark, wild halo of curls that always looks like it’s just been pulled. You’ve never seen her wear a bra. You’re not convinced she owns one.

You didn’t mean to notice her like this.

Not at first.

She and Ella got along too well. Too quickly. Rikki would show up uninvited, slinking barefoot through your kitchen like she belonged there, teasing Ella for