Don't Ask My Neighbor Read Online Free

me.
    “Hmmmm,” he moaned.
    A man’s moan had never sounded so sexy to me.
    I stood at the bathroom door in a seductive pose. With my back toward him and a pronounced arch in my lower back, I looked at him over my right shoulder. He slowly rolled onto his back and then opened his eyes. He extended his right arm toward me, circling his mouth with his tongue, tasting remnant s of a love he made come down.
    “You’re welcome,” I offered and continued my entrance into the bathroom.
    My mother always said, “Where there is a will, there is a way”. My will was to have Gage Delahunt, even if the way to him was damped with alcohol.
    Years after that night, Gage was my guilty pleasure. The pleasure I got from my nights of passion with him overshadowed the guilt I felt whenever I saw my best friend, or when I saw my best friend with him. I had mastered the ability to suppress my feelings around them—I’ve had many opportunities to practice—and I wouldn’t be lying if I told you Gage had become a master at doing the same. Kennalyn always thought Gage was too in love with her to ever share his bed with another woman. She forgot about the other women who were willing to share their beds with him.
    Check mate.
    You’d be surprised how long you could keep an on-the-side relationship going, especially if the man had no desire for it to end. The fun was in the chase, and after the chase was over, I was ready to end this escapade.

     
    Three
    ________
     
    This is What You Get
     
    Kennalyn 
     
     
     
    “HE IS CHEATING ON YOU,” SAMANTHA affirmed as if she were holding her breath.
    I ignored her, again, just like I had done the first time she hollered her accusation. I had prepared for this evening, just as I had done the two previous anniversaries we celebrated. I looked svelte in my trumpet strapless sleeveless evening dress. It was Gage’s favorite colo r—silver—the color he said looked best against my bronze-colored skin. My hair was pinned to the right, with tight curls falling over my right shoulder. I stood at the small dining room table, pouring two glasses of white wine half full. I was expecting him at any minute. I ignored Samantha’s heavy breathing, probably because I was concentrating on keeping my own under control. My heart was pounding, but I hid that from her, too. I didn’t think her accusation was untrue. Why would my best friend lie to me about the man I loved?
    “Kennalyn, are you going to stand there and pretend you didn’t hear me?” she asked.
    Samantha hadn’t moved from where I left her, standing just inside the front door. I stood in a temporary freeze, with the wine bottle tilted toward the second glass.
    “Your husband, Gage, is cheating on you,” she repeated, walking closer in my direction.
    “And what makes you such an expert on my husband’s infidelities?” I said, finally looking at her.
    “Because…”
    “Oh, that’s very convincing,” I said, interrupting her.
    She looked down as if the answer would rise up from the seams beneath the hickory-colored hardwood floor.
    “You didn’t let me finish.”
    Samantha walked over to the table and grabbed one of the half-filled champagne glasses. She raised a brow and shot an icy gaze in my direction as she brought the glass to her lips. The shimmering cocktail dress that playfully hugged her willowy frame did just what she intende d—showcased long, slender legs that ended in two-strap heeled sandals that made her look even taller. She carried a small hard-case clutch in her left hand. After placing the empty glass back on the table, she turned and headed back toward the front door. She stopped in her departure.
    “Gage is cheating on you with me,” she spoke without hesitation. “I’m meeting him for dinner at 8.”
    She looked at her watch.
    “And I’m already late.”
    Samantha smiled with satisfaction.
    This time, my freeze seemed permanent. Samantha continued her leave. She stood at the unopened front door with