Dirty Neighbor (The Dirty Suburbs)
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Authors: Miller,Cassie-Ann L.
Dirty Neighbor
(The Dirty Suburbs Series -
Book 1)
Cassie-Ann L. Miller
Dirty Neighbor (The Dirty Suburbs Series - Book 1)
Copyright © 2016 Cassie-Ann L. Miller
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents appearing therein are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status of the various products referenced in this work.
Stories by
Cassie-Ann L. Miller
The Esquire Girls Series
Amber’s Story
Amber Nights (Amber – Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)
Madison’s Story
For Madison, Always (Madison – Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)
Ruthie’s Story
Ruthie’s Desire (Ruthie – Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)
Hailey’s story
Moments with Hailey (Hailey - Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)
Esquire HEAT Series
Standalone novels
Dirty Player (The Dirty Suburbs Series – Book 2)
Coming soon…
Faith Monroe
I’ve been catfished.
My fairytale Internet romance has quickly turned into a nightmare. Now, I’m stranded 2000 miles from home with no ID, no money and nowhere to lay my head on this hellish California night…
He was supposed to be my valiant white knight, a friend-of-a-friend sent to save me from my poor life choices. But, Maxwell Masters likes to play dirty…he wants something in return. (No, not
THAT
. Get your mind out of the gutter).
Maxwell Masters
I’m the ultimate pro football bad boy. And after a string of bar brawls, a little bad behaviour on social media and a drunken game of naked truth-or-dare on a public beach, my career is on the line. My only hope of saving my very lucrative contract is to prove to the team's management that I’m a changed man in a committed relationship and that my player moves are now reserved exclusively for the football field.
So, when the gorgeous friend-of-a-friend happens to stumble into my life, desperate vulnerable and in need of rescuing, I see the perfect opportunity. Faith Monroe will be my fake fiancée. Unless she'd rather hitchhike her fine ass all the way back to Reyfield, Illinois.
Dirty Neighbor
The Dirty Suburbs Series (Book 1)
Keeland Masters…
Growing up, he was the boy next door, my older brother’s best friend, the guy who asked me to the prom...and then stood me up. He just vanished into thin air.
Now that he’s back in town, he wants to come over to play. And I’m not talking hopscotch.
But he’s hurt me once, so I’m sticking to my side of the fence no matter how good he looks pushing that lawnmower in all his tanned, toned shirtless glory.
Samantha Trotten…
I should have been her first kiss. I should have been her "first time". Instead, I ended up being the first asshole to break her heart. But a lot of things were outside of my control back then.
I've been to hell and back over the past few years. She doesn't even know the half of it.
But now, I'm back in town. And though I know I should keep my distance, all I want is a do-over...And I won't quit until I get it.
"Dirty Neighbor" is book one in the "Dirty Suburbs", a series of full-length, stand-alone romantic comedies set in small town Illinois.
Table of contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Epilogue
Bonus book: Waiting, Always (The Esquire Girls Series – Madison (Book 1))
Chapter 1
I veer off of the I-90 and guide my Harley onto the off-ramp. I grin to myself as I glance up at the huge, green highway sign looming above the road.
Welcome to Reyfield, Illinois.
I
never thought I’d ever feel so damn happy to see that sign again but after all I’ve been through over the past three years, I just want something simple and familiar. I want to be in a place where I don’t feel antsy, like I’ve got to keep looking over my shoulder.
Reyfield is it. It’s almost like coming home…
Almost.
I’m well aware that the Masters’ left a lot of destruction in our wake the last time we were in this town – unpaid bills, unsaid goodbyes and at least one very broken heart.
Maybe it’s time to pay old debts, heal old wounds and make amends as best I can. Maybe it’s time for a fresh start.
It’s a chilly night. Fall is creeping its way into town. I breeze through the streets and everything feels familiar. It all gives me a little thrill in the pit of my stomach. The gothic architecture of the Presbyterian church…The washed-out “Go Tigers!” banner hanging outside of our old high school…The field where we played football…The burger joint we used to go to for lunch when the school cafeteria’s offerings resembled road kill topped with warm dog food...
I take a left off of Clifford Boulevard and pull onto Hyatt Street. The corner store is right where I left it. I cut my engine in the parking lot and stroll through the front door. I give a quick nod to the middle-aged woman sitting behind the cash register and make my way down the narrow, brightly-lit aisles.
Man, it feels good to just walk down the aisles of a freakin’ convenience store. When you’ve been locked away for as long as I have, you learn to appreciate the simple things.
I stand in front of the chip display for a moment, trying to decide between vinegar and barbecue. “Fuck it…” I’m having both. And how about a bag of jalapeño-cheddar, too? I’m making up for lost time, after all.
I grab a case of beer — the cheap kind that we used to buy with our fake IDs when we were teenagers. I’m feeling awfully nostalgic tonight. Then, I grab more chocolate-covered pretzel sticks than any self-respecting 27-year-old man ever should.
When I get to the condom aisle, I pick up eight three-packs of XL Magnums.
Yes, that might seem overly ambitious but I haven't had sex in
three freakin’ years
and whoever I take home with me tonight is in for a hell of a good time. The ladies don’t call me Master Kee for nothing.
My main priority tonight is to drain the tank into the first acceptable-looking broad that comes my way and to be honest, ‘acceptable-looking’ is pretty much open for interpretation at this point.
Because I’m horny enough to fuck my way through the Reyfield phonebook.
I drop my goodies onto the counter and the cashier eyes me with an arched brow and a subtle grin. “Exciting night planned?” she asks, tipping her chin towards the condoms. The innuendo in her voice is undeniable.
I give her a second glance.
Is
she
Ms. Acceptable for tonight?
Nah, she’s probably older than my mother and she smells like she’s been marinating in cigarette smoke and cheap perfume all day. My definition of “acceptable” may be loose, but not
that
loose.
I nod politely as I glimpse at the number glowing on the screen of the cash register and pull a $100 bill out of my wallet. She drags her long fingernails along my palm as she deposits the change into my hand.
Did my cock just twitch?
Down, buddy. Down.
“Have a good night, Big Boy,” she purrs as I give her a quick salute and duck out the door.
I store my goodies in my backpack and jump onto my bike. When I rev it, the poor thing lets out a choked straining sound. I’ll look into it first thing in the morning, but for now, I’m on mission to get laid.
ASAP.
