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Plastered Passion: A Neighborly Setup

### Chapter One: A Cut Above the Rest

The sun blazed down on H’s lush backyard, casting golden streaks through the overgrown hibiscus and jasmine that framed her property. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass, but H barely noticed. Her focus was on the damn gate that refused to budge, its rusted hinges screeching in protest as she yanked at it with all her might. Sweat beaded on her bronzed skin, her tight tank top clinging to her ample chest, outlining every curve as she muttered a string of curses in a mix of English and Hindi under her breath. “Come on, you stubborn piece of junk. I don’t have all day.”

From the corner of her eye, she caught movement. X, her hulking, tanned neighbor with a crew cut and a sleeve of ink snaking up his thick arm, sauntered over with the kind of cocky grin that could melt steel—or at least make a woman forget her irritation for a split second. His muscles flexed under his fitted tee as he leaned against the fence, watching her struggle with an amused glint in his hazel eyes.

“Need a hand, princess?” he drawled, his deep voice carrying a playful edge. “Looks like that gate’s giving you more trouble than a man on a first date.”

H straightened up, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow as she shot him a look that could’ve singed the grass beneath his feet. “I’m no princess, muscles, and I’ve got this. But since you’re here gawking, why don’t you make yourself useful?”

X chuckled, pushing off the fence and stepping closer, his presence looming as he gripped the gate with one meaty hand. “Anything for a lady with a mouth like yours. Let’s see if I can’t tame this beast.”

He tugged hard, and for a moment, it seemed like the gate would give. But a jagged edge caught his finger, slicing through the skin. A trickle of blood ran down his thick forearm as he winced, though he quickly masked it with a gruff laugh. “Damn. Thing’s got teeth.”

H’s dark eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a smirk as she crossed her arms, accentuating the curve of her chest. “Oh, poor baby. Did the big bad gate hurt you? Come on, tough guy, don’t tell me you’re gonna cry over a little scratch.”

X flexed his hand, the blood smearing as he grinned at her. “Takes more than a nick to bring me down, sweetheart. But I ain’t gonna lie—it stings like a bitch.”

“Alright, drama king,” H said, her tone dripping with mock exasperation as she jerked her head toward the house. “Get inside. I’ve got a bandage somewhere, and I’m not about to have you bleeding all over my yard. Move it.”

Her commanding tone left no room for argument, and X raised a brow, clearly intrigued by her fire as he followed her through the back door into the cozy, spice-scented kitchen. The air was warm with the lingering aroma of cumin and cardamom from her morning cooking, and H moved with purpose, her hips swaying as she rummaged through a drawer for a plaster. She tossed a teasing glance over her shoulder, her full lips twitching. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna faint on me now. I didn’t peg you for the delicate type.”

X leaned against the counter, his broad frame filling the small space as he watched her with a lazy smirk. “Delicate? Nah. But I’ll admit, I’m enjoying the view while you play nurse. Gotta say, you’ve got a hell of a spirit—and a hell of a look to match. Your husband must be one lucky bastard to handle a woman like you.”

H paused, her fingers tightening around the bandage as she turned to face him, her gaze sharp and unyielding. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, muscles. And trust me, you couldn’t keep up.” Her voice was a low, dangerous purr, but her mind flickered to her husband W’s whispered fantasy—one he’d confessed late at night, his breath hot against her ear. The thought of another man, of her taking control in ways they’d only dared to imagine, sent a shiver down her spine. She pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand as she pressed the bandage to X’s finger with a little more force than necessary.

He didn’t flinch, just let out a low rumble of a laugh. “Damn, woman. You’ve got a grip. But I’m overheating out here after all that yard work. Mind if I use your shower to cool off? Promise I’ll be quick.”

H hesitated for a heartbeat, her pulse quickening at the thought of him naked in her space, water sluicing over that sculpted body she’d glimpsed through her window weeks ago. She’d caught him stepping out of his own shower, towel slung low, his impressive endowment on full display. The memory burned in her mind, but she kept her expression cool, her voice laced with authority. “Fine. But don’t make a mess, big guy. Upstairs, second door on the right. And don’t touch anything you’re not supposed to.”

X’s grin widened, a flash of mischief in his eyes as he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be on my best behavior.” His heavy footsteps echoed as he headed upstairs, leaving H alone in the kitchen, her fingers tightening around a glass of water she’d poured to distract herself. The heat building between her thighs was harder to ignore now, a slow burn that pulsed with every memory of that stolen glimpse.

She tried to focus on the mundane—wiping down the counter, sipping her water—but her mind kept drifting. The sound of the shower starting upstairs was like a siren call. Before she could stop herself, her feet carried her up the stairs, her breath shallow as she approached the bathroom door. A small hole, a remnant of a fiery argument with W months ago, stared back at her like an invitation. She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. But the pull was too strong.

Leaning in, H peered through the hole, her heart hammering as steam clouded her view for only a moment before it cleared. There he was—X, under the spray, water cascading over his chiseled body, every ridge of muscle glistening. Her eyes dropped lower, and her breath caught. His massive cock was in his hand, stroking with slow, deliberate motions, his head tilted back as if savoring the sensation. The sight was raw, primal, and it sent a jolt straight to her core.

Her knees weakened, and without thinking, her hand slipped beneath her waistband, fingers brushing against her heat as she bit her lip to stifle a moan. Memories of her fight with W flashed through her mind—the shouting, the passion, the way they’d made up after. But this, this was different. This was forbidden, dangerous, and it made her ache in ways she hadn’t felt in years.

Then, as if sensing her presence, X’s eyes snapped open, locking onto hers through the tiny hole. A wicked smirk spread across his face, his strokes growing bolder, more deliberate, as if daring her to keep watching. H froze, heat flooding her cheeks, but before she could pull away, the door swung open with a creak. X stood there, water dripping from his sculpted frame, his gaze dark and hungry as he stepped forward, yanking her into the steamy shower with a growled, “Caught you, didn’t I, boss lady?”

Her back hit the tiled wall, the warm spray soaking through her tank top as she stared up at him, her chest heaving. She should’ve pushed him away, should’ve taken control like she always did. But the heat in his eyes, the raw power of his body so close, held her captive—for now.

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