Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
But after Laurie figured it out, Tucker confessed everything, and they made up. My friend’s married now, and of course, she quit her job. Don’t get me wrong: Laurie didn’t quit because she hates HRA. She quit because she and Tucker have a gorgeous baby girl now, Callie, who takes up all her time. Hell, if I had a baby daughter that cute, I’d stay home all day too, just to watch the child sleep.
But of course, my personal life is nothing like my friend’s, and there are no wedding bells in my future. Or rather, the wedding bells have already rung for me: twice. That’s right, despite being only twenty-five, yours truly has been married and divorced twice already. It’s a little sad, and this is definitely not what I expected from life, but there you have it. There are some things you just can’t change, and unfortunately, this is one of them.
But I like to look on the bright side. I got a lot of alimony from one of my ex-husbands, and it was that settlement that enabled me to purchase my apartment. Otherwise, as a city employee, there’s no way that I could have managed to buy a home in New York City. In fact, as a government employee, I’d say the opposite: I’d need public assistance, given the paltry amount that I make at HRA. It’s sad, but true.
Shaking my head, I lift my coffee mug to my lips once more, and enjoy a steaming sip. But then my eyes sharpen because down below, I see Carl, James, and Chris enter the small schoolyard next to us. We live next door to a public school in New York City, and by city ordinance, the yard is open to the public when school isn’t in session. Neighbors like to take their kids to play on the jungle gym, or to grab a game of pick-up basketball.
But what are James, Carl, and Chris doing? The three men are clad in athletic wear, and my thighs tighten as I check out their chiseled physiques. Both Carl and James have dark hair with penetrating blue eyes. They’re tall and athletic, showing off broad shoulders and wide chests as they swing ping-pong paddles as they warm-up. Chris is a tiny bit shorter than the other two, but he’s more powerfully built with a muscular torso, and thick, tree-trunk thighs. He sets up a small net that’s about fifteen feet wide, and I squint with confusion. What game is this?
The three men begin batting a whiffle ball back and forth across the net, the swings graceful and swift. It looks like they’re playing tennis, but on a smaller scale. Suddenly, realization strikes. It’s that new game, pickleball! The sport is allegedly a cross between tennis, badminton, and ping-pong, and it’s taken over New York City because it’s fun without being too costly. Not only that, but it’s easy to learn and there have been kerfuffles between pickleball players, basketball players, and tennis players, who all want to use the same courts.
As I watch, Chris slices, and James misses the return, causing Chris to laugh. Carl seeks revenge by slamming the ball at Chris, and the chestnut-hair man dives, but to no avail. The ball zooms by him, and he lets out a bellow of rage. Ah, these alpha males. If they don’t get their way, they lose their shit.
But as much as I adore watching the muscular men in action, I have work to do. With a naughty smile, I get up and make my way to the kitchen because the cuke and carrot are waiting for me … and tonight, my hunky neighbors will get a taste of the good stuff.
3
Chris
Tanya thinks we don’t know, but trust me: we know. In fact, it’s the only thing we’re here to discuss tonight. The pretty blonde believes Carl, James and I want to talk about boring shit at the Homeowners Association meeting tonight. She thinks we want to discuss things like utilities, property taxes, and our shared laundry facilities. But fuck that shit because we want to know more about her.
After all, it’s not every day that you have a pretty neighbor who goes upstairs to fuck fruit on the reg. Not only that, but Tanya thinks that she’s doing it on the downlow. She thinks she’s being discreet, seeing that we have no high-rises around us, looking down on the rooftop terrace. She believes that her cries are soft and gentle, when actually, she’s yowling like a cat. She thinks that she doesn’t leave trails of pussy come on the floor, when actually, we’re able to smell the viscous fluid the next morning.
I can see why Tanya thinks no one knows, however, because she goes to enjoy herself late at night, when the city is asleep. But therein lies the problem: this particular city never sleeps, and she has no idea that we sometimes sneak up to watch her during her little “worship sessions.” To be honest, I have no idea why the fuck she even conducts these moonlight sessions. Is Tanya Wiccan? Or some kind of pagan? Or maybe she worships that woman who tried to seduce Adam, Lilith. It really doesn’t matter to me, James, and Carl. We just like seeing the veggies slide in and out of those tight holes as Tanya grunts and groans with pleasure.