Dirty Neighbor - Sam Crescent
Chapter One
Elisha Jackson couldn’t believe what she was seeing right now. She was in her bedroom cleaning the windows, and her dirty neighbor was outside having sex. Didn’t he have any shame? Ever since he had moved in next to her two months ago, he’d done everything to annoy her. Was he trying to get her to leave? He had parties every weekend, for the whole three days, even Sunday. It drove her crazy. He clearly liked loud music that had no words, or anything to it. Loud, horrible, banging music, which didn’t stop her from hearing the sex that went on.
The neighbor in question was Brant Miller, complete asshole, and the worst neighbor ever.
Right now, he was with a blonde. Of course it was a blonde, it had to be. They were the only kind of women he actually went with, or the kind of woman she saw leaving his damned house. It was embarrassing. Her window was open, and she could hear them, which made it worse. The blonde was straddling Brant, and screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Yes, harder, fuck me, Brant.”
Ew.
She hated her neighbor. There was no way she could even close the window in case it alerted them. Quickly finishing her cleaning, she shuddered as she walked away. Gross, way gross, super gross, and disgusting, and every other word she could think of. He was a creep.
Why would anyone want to go out with him? He was a horrible man, not that she was an expert on men. She wasn’t.
In fact, she’d sworn off men for the rest of her life, and had pushed all of her energy into her cleaning business. She thrived in a clean environment, and her company, which employed five other women, was the best. They cleaned houses, work stations, restaurants— anything that needed a cleaner, they were there.
Her life without Greg had been amazing so far. The scumbag had cheated on her every chance he got. When she finally discovered him in her bed, screwing his latest piece of office ass, he’d had plenty of words to say about her. She was too clean, too clinical. She didn’t know how to get down and dirty and have some damn fun.
Getting down and dirty had consequences. Look at her sister, Beth, pregnant out of high school, marrying at a young age to a guy who was nothing more than a jock. Andrew was nice, but she was thankful he was a brother-in-law. Their house was pure chaos. It wasn’t dirty as Beth kept it clean. There were toys everywhere, and kids everywhere.
No, she didn’t need dirty in her life.
Elisha tucked some hair behind her ears, and willed her pounding heart and pulsing pussy to calm down. Dirty wasn’t what she needed. Neat, concise, clinical, and above all clean. Yes, she liked clean. It was a nice word, strict, and to the point.
Moving toward her kitchen, she leaned against the doorframe, staring in. Yes, of course it was clean. For a split second a shock of need struck her hard. Growing up she always imagined she’d be a mother by now. She was twenty-eight years old, and she’d had her life mapped out exactly how she wanted it. After college she wanted to own her business, which she’d achieved. Then from college, once her business was a success, she’d meet a man, and they’d live happy ever after with a couple of kids. Three or maybe four, she wasn’t sure yet.
Of course, life hadn’t exactly panned out like that. She’d sworn off men as she seemed to attract the cheating kind. Every guy wanted to dirty everything up, and she wasn’t like that.
Really!
She closed the thought down, along with the burning need rushing through her body. Being sworn off men made her life a hell of a lot easier. She didn’t have to worry about what other people thought. She was free to come and go as she pleased, not that she went everywhere. Entering her kitchen, she touched her top of the range kitchen mixer, and sighed. She always imagined herself standing at the counter, making cookies for her kids. She loved kids, and yes, even as she hated the chaos, she envied her sister.
Tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them away. There was no use in crying. She hated spilling tears as they never solved any problem. Grabbing a fresh cloth, Elisha got to work wiping down her counters in case dust had landed on them. There was no point her spending a day at home unless she cleaned. It was moments like this that reminded her how damn lonely she was. Once she finished cleaning every single counter and kitchen cupboard, she checked her trash can. She hated anything that smelled, so even with a few items in the bottom, she always emptied it.
Grabbing the bag, she made her way outside toward the trash. Where she kept her trash bins was exactly the same place that Brant, her dirty neighbor, kept his. She had no idea that he’d actually be emptying his own trash, or that he’d be in a chatty mood.
“Hello, neighbor.”