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Loving My Neighbor
Loving My Neighbor
Loving My Neighbor
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Loving My Neighbor

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We can’t always choose with whom we’re going to fall in love. Sometimes it sneaks up on us, and we have no control over it. It can happen over a long period, or it can take place almost overnight. Very few people wake up one morning and consciously make a decision to go out and fall in love with someone of a different ethnic background. Lust and physical attraction are a different matter, however. This is where one part of your brain is in conflict with another part. Raw, physical attraction transcends race, and sex becomes a powerful driving force. In fact, lust and physical attraction, can sometimes be heightened by mixed races because it’s, different, it’s exciting, and it’s exotic. It’s when lust and physical attraction turn into love that the right side of the brain no longer pays attention to the left side. This is a story of lust and raw physical attraction that goes beyond conventional wisdom, restrictions, and boundaries.

EXCERPT 1: I gently sucked her beautiful lower lip into my mouth and gently nibbled. There was something heady, earthy, and carnal about her taste. I had never reacted to a woman with such animal magnetism before, and I wanted all of her, every last square-inch of her.
I paused for a moment and looked down at her. She remained in the same position with her head upturned, her eyes closed, and her lips parted. She whimpered as our lips fused again. This time, it wasn’t gentle or tender. It was pure lust and raw desire. Our mouths consumed each other as our passion grew. Her lips were softer and more talented than any I had ever tasted. I could feel, taste, and smell her passion and sense the animalistic need growing within her body to mate. I wanted to be inside her more than I had ever wanted any another woman in my life.
I looked at her again, slowly shook my head and quietly groaned.
She looked sweetly up into my eyes. “Mr. Morgan, if you are about to ask me if you can have me ... the answer is ...

EXCERPT 2: Ted declined Dad’s offer for a glass of wine.
Gail gave him a noticeable glare. It was a glare that looked to me as though it would have penetrated case hardened steel. It was then that I decided I didn’t ever want to get on the wrong side of her. After everyone had their wine, we noticed that Ted had walked out back toward the stables, so Dad excused himself and went to join him.
They walked around for a while not really appearing as though they were going anywhere. It looked as if they were kind of going around in circles. Sabrina was watching them closely. They began gesturing with their hands, and we were able to hear their raised voices.
She shook her head. “That doesn’t look good,” she offered as she ran toward them. We followed quickly behind.
“What the hell do you mean my son’s not good enough for your daughter,” shouted Dad angrily.
“That’s not exactly what I said, Mr. Morgan. What I said was that I thought they would be better off if they were to find someone ... more suitable.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it, Mr. ... Williams. That is the same as saying my son isn’t good enough for your daughter,” said Dad, in a very agitated voice. He was more upset than I had ever seen him. I looked around and saw ranch hands pouring in from all directions ready to take up for him.
“Well then, Mr. Morgan, have it your way.”
Sabrina screamed when she was within ten feet of them. “Daddy, you had better shut up and knock it off if you ever want to see your grandchild!”
No one moved or made a sound. We all looked at Sabrina. It was my immediate impression that no one there had ever heard her scream that loudly or had ever seen her quite that mad. Her father just stared at her with a perplexed and somewhat frightened look on his face.
After about thirty seconds of silence, Dad broke in. “Would you like that glass of wine now, Mr. Williams?”
Without taking his eyes off Sabrina, he mumbled, “No, but if you have a whiskey, I could use

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 17, 2015
ISBN9781311087812
Loving My Neighbor
Author

Christopher Maddox

I have always been addicted to love and romance. I like strong, independent women, so I tend to write about strong female characters that either start out strong or develop whatever inner strength is needed to see them through. My heroes and heroines are sometimes flawed because mistakes and imperfections always build character and strength in strong people. Some of my stories are taken from life’s experiences while others are drawn from experiences I wish I’d had. In my world, there are no boundaries to the limitless pleasures that can be found in the female form or from the joy that can be shared between lovers. However, my books are not about page after page of mindless, non-stop sex, but when it is appropriate, I try to make it real. Where love and romance have a chance to blossom, intimacy is usually part of the equation because it is the fuel that ignites the desire that leads to love. I like to think of myself as an adult romance writer with a moral compass. I live in Florida with my wife and three, poorly trained, dogs. Oh, yes, I almost forgot. I love happy endings. I love hearing from my readers and appreciate their comments and suggestions. Click on the link below if you would like to send me a message. Thank you. ChristopherMaddox@ChristopherMaddox.com

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    Loving My Neighbor - Christopher Maddox

    Loving My Neighbor

    Christopher Maddox

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2015 Christopher Maddox

    License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    This work contains content of an extremely graphic nature including graphic sexual acts. All characters in this work are eighteen years of age or older. This is a work of fiction intended for adults 18 and over only. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

    Table of Contents

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Epilogue

    Free Excerpt

    Additional Books

    Chapter One

    Meeting My New Neighbor

    I had just moved into an upper, middle-class neighborhood in Mesa, Arizona. It’s a sleepy, little suburb of Phoenix, filled with a combination of retirees from the frozen north, college kids, and a growing number of techno-whinnies from Silicon Valley. The Silicon Valley group was trying to get in on the expanding software industry located here in Mesa. I was one of the Silicon Valley transplants. I had gone to work for a software company in Los Gatos, California right out of college. When I got there, I became infatuated with a girl who worked in the human resources department and we began dating during my second week of employment. It was her responsibility to show me around and make sure that my transition from college life to corporate life was as painless as she could make it.

    Sandy was stunning, and she was single. At five feet eleven inches tall, she towered over most of the guys she worked with. Her blond hair curled down to her breasts, which were a little on the small side, but they fit her slender frame perfectly. She had captivating blue eyes and the whitest teeth that I had ever seen. She was a health nut and a jogger. I wanted to go out with her, so I lied and told her that I was a jogger as well. I told her that I simply loved it.

    During the second week I worked there, we made a casual date to go jogging in the coastal foothills that surrounded Los Gatos. Well, her idea of jogging and my idea of jogging were at complete opposite ends of the jogging spectrum. We were on an uphill run headed out of town, and after about half a mile, I was huffing and puffing so hard that I nearly collapsed. It was so bad that I thought I might have a heart attack. She stopped and started laughing.

    Some jogger you are, Jason Morgan, she laughed. What do you do, run downhill all of the time? she teased as she handed me her water bottle.

    I tried to say something, but I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs to support life and talk at the same time. I was breathing so hard and was so oxygen deprived that I thought I was going to be sick.

    She laughed again. I knew that you weren’t a jogger. If you were a jogger, it would have been on your resume, and you don’t participate in any sports, whatsoever, outside of watching football on television during football season, she laughed again.

    She had me. I was a couch potato, and apparently, it was pretty obvious. It took me a while, but I was finally able to smile and offer a haltingly, abbreviated laugh.

    You’ve got me. The only running I usually do is to the bathroom during timeouts and halftime, I gasped. Besides, at six feet three inches tall and two hundred and forty-five pounds, I’m too big to jog, I offered in my defense.

    Then why did you lie about being a jogger?

    Ouch, I said. I guess it was because I wanted an excuse to go out with you.

    And jog? she asked, with her head cocked to the side, smiling as she handed me her water bottle again.

    Well, yes, for starters, I replied, hoping that I didn’t sound too transparent. Hell, I should have just asked her out and been done with it.

    She smiled. Jason, you don’t really want to jog with me, do you? she asked. Well, before I could respond, she added, What you really want to do is get inside my panties. Am I right?

    I looked at her in utter surprise. I was almost in shock at her boldness, but I would soon learn that Sandy was precocious and out there, somewhere. She should have been a flower child in the sixties.

    I think that you’ve got me again, I smiled sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders.

    She looked at me seriously, dead seriously. That’s just great. All you really want to do is fuck me.

    I tried to protest, but she wouldn’t let me say a word. If all you really want to do is have sex with me, then you’ll have to come back to my place and take a shower first, she said emphatically with a hint of a grin.

    She came up close and handed me the water bottle; there was one last sip left in it. I took the water bottle, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into me. She threw her arms around my neck, and we shared our first kiss right there along the side of the road in close proximity to cars zipping by with their tires screeching around the tight corners.

    To make a long story short, we went back to her apartment, took a shower, and we had sex, a lot of sex. At least, I thought we did. I thought it was great sex. She had two orgasms, and I had my usual, one. How much better could it possibly get? Well, she told me. She told me that the sex was good, but it would be better if I were in shape and could last longer.

    Here’s the tricky part. She wasn’t talking about orgasms; she was talking about endurance. She essentially told me that if I wanted to continue fucking her, I had to get in shape because she liked to have sex for much longer periods of time than I was capable of. In other words, she was into marathon sex.

    Since she was such a racehorse, I figured that I needed to find another girlfriend or start jogging. Well, I started jogging every day, and within six months, I could keep up with her on the road and in bed, and believe me, marathon sex with Sandy was something else. It was like aerobic exercise with a hard-on. The only thing about our sex life that could have been better was that she didn’t like oral sex. Oh, she liked it well enough when I went down on her, but she just didn’t like the idea of doing it for me because she couldn’t stand the thought of getting sperm on her pearly-white teeth.

    After a little over a year of being with her, I received a call from one of the guys that I had graduated from college with. He told me about a job opportunity in Mesa and the money was too good to pass up. The reason the money was so good was because Mesa was a hellhole compared to Los Gatos. That’s probably a little strong, but if you liked the cool coastal mountains, the chances were that you weren’t going to like Mesa, Arizona.

    After my interview, I looked around Mesa and Phoenix for a couple days, and I was sold on the place. Having several friends working at the same facility helped tip the scales in favor of Mesa. The problem was that Sandy was not going to move anywhere. She was a California girl, and she intended to stay that way.

    I don’t think you could say that either of us was in love, but there was no doubt that we really liked each other. We decided to go for a trial separation, at least, for a while. I would move to Mesa and see how much we missed each other. The one thing that my year with Sandy did for me was get me in shape. I was down to two hundred and thirty pounds of almost solid muscle. She also taught me that before I jumped into another long-term relationship, I needed to know a little more about my lover.

    Please, don’t get me wrong. Sex isn’t the only thing you should consider when getting into a live-in situation, but it is important to know what your partner’s sexual preferences are. Given a choice, I would rather go with someone who liked oral sex as much as I did, but then again, it isn’t the only thing to consider. Obviously, my year with Sandy had already shown that I could get along without it.

    Anyway, that’s how I ended up in Mesa. I had some old friends, a new job, a new house, and two new neighbors. The realtor told me that, on one side of me, I had a lovely black couple who didn’t have any children. He was a long-haul truck driver who was gone most of the time, and she was a grade school teacher who taught third grade at one of the local elementary schools. On the other side of me, lived a minister, his wife, and their three children.

    By my second week in Mesa, I was completely moved in and unpacked. I was enjoying the spring weather, knowing that it wouldn’t last. I knew that it would get very hot during the summer months, which were just around the corner. Fortunately, almost everyone in the neighborhood, including me, had a swimming pool because that is where everyone hung out during the hot, oppressive, summer.

    Ronald Jones, the preacher who lived next door, stopped by with his wife Mildred, during the first week I was unpacking. Mildred brought me a homemade cherry pie along with an invitation to visit their church. They appeared to be a very nice couple. We visited for a while, and I thanked Mildred for the pie. I told them how much I appreciated their visit, and I mentioned that I would give some serious consideration to their invitation. As they left, my last thought about the preacher and his wife was that she was a very attractive woman for having had three kids and being married to a preacher. Maybe that’s why they called these places bedroom communities, I mused.

    I was in my second week of being alone, meaning, without Sandy. It was Tuesday evening, and I was beginning to miss her more than I thought I would. Actually, what I really missed the most was that cute, little patch of blond hair that was nestled so sweetly between her long, thin legs.

    I was lying on the sofa, watching television, and feeling decidedly sorry for myself when the doorbell rang at around eight-thirty. It turned out to be my other next-door neighbor.

    She smiled and extended her hand.

    Hi neighbor, I’m Sabrina Williams. Welcome to the neighborhood, she said, with the largest grin and the whitest teeth I think I had ever seen. Her teeth made Sandy’s look as if they needed to be acid washed.

    I took the hand she offered and introduced myself.

    Well, Jason, I brought you some homemade cookies to welcome you to the neighborhood, she said as she handed me the large platter of chocolate chip cookies.

    Mmmm, my favorite, Sabrina, thank you. I smiled as I invited her in. We walked into the kitchen where I placed them on the counter.

    Sabrina, I was just about to open a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Would you care to join me? I asked, demonstrating all of the southern hospitality that a California boy could possibly muster.

    That would be nice, Jason, thank you, she smiled.

    I opened the wine and poured each of us a glass. She was about five feet six inches tall with long, wavy, light-brown hair. Her skin tone was light brown, and she had the largest, most captivating, brown eyes I had ever seen. Her lips were perfectly chiseled, and they plainly screamed kiss me from every angle.

    Get a grip on yourself, Jason, I mumbled to myself. She couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred and fifteen pounds, and ten pounds of that had to be breasts. They were striking. And to make matters worse, she was wearing tight jeans and a white, long-sleeved blouse that hung straight down off the tips of her breasts that just barely covered the top of her jeans. She had very narrow hips, and from what I could tell of what was stuffed into her jeans, she had an absolutely perfect ass. She was as cute as a little button.

    Here’s to you and your new home, Jason. I hope you really enjoy the neighborhood, she toasted.

    We toasted one another and took a sip.

    She smiled warmly. This is very good. I’ll have to remember to get some for my house in case you ever drop by for a neighborly visit, she said with a broad grin.

    It was such a nice evening that we decided to take our wine out to the pool area and enjoy the cool weather while it lasted. We sat and visited for the longest time because she was easy to talk to and very interesting. She told me all about teaching her third-grade class and a little about her study plans. Since she hadn’t said anything about it, I asked her about her husband.

    Oh, Jake, she nodded with a grin, "yes, he’s on the road most of the time, and he only gets here about once a month or so.

    I tried not to react to her words, but I am sure she noticed my eyes widen when I found out how little he was home. I cleared my throat as I got up to go to the kitchen to get us some more wine. She followed me inside and watched as I refilled our glasses. I told her that I had been in a one-year relationship before I moved to Mesa and that being away from her for a little over a week was darn near killing me.

    You kind of get used to it. Being alone, I mean, she said as she took a large sip of wine. Jason, as big and as handsome as you are, you shouldn’t have any trouble finding all of the female companionship you want right here in Mesa. There are many single women out there looking for a man. She offered, smiling. There are a lot of married women out there looking for a man as well, she chuckled quietly.

    She told me that she had been friends with the last couple that owned this house and that she knew the layout of it fairly well.

    From your master bedroom window, you can see down inside my pool area. I hope that you don’t mind watching me sunbathe sometimes in the late afternoon and evenings. I spend so much time alone that I like getting out of the house, and I enjoy the sun. Especially, this time of the year, she smiled.

    I certainly don’t mind looking at pretty ladies sunbathing, I teased.

    She smiled warmly at me. Besides, Jason, I have to constantly work on my tan, she said with one of her large grins as we both laughed.

    Sabrina, I’m so glad you came over this evening. I am really enjoying your company. If I open another bottle of wine, will you join me and have another glass?

    She thought for a moment. At first, I thought that I shouldn’t have any more to drink, but then, I realized that I didn’t have far to drive. So, okay, I’ll join you for another glass, she giggled.

    She followed me into the kitchen and watched as I opened another bottle. I poured us another large glass, and we returned to the patio.

    This is one of the most enjoyable evenings that I’ve had for a long time, Jason. Thank you for being such a gracious host. I think that we are going to be good friends. Especially, with this kind of start, she giggled.

    Sabrina, your comment about working on your tan was really funny, and it told me a lot about you.

    She looked at me curiously and giggled. What could it possibly have told you about me other than I have a goofy sense of humor?

    We’ve only had two glasses of wine, this being our third, I gestured with my glass, so it is not the wine talking, and I hope I’m not treading on sensitive ground.

    Oh, out with it, Jason! We’re neighbors and apparently drinking buddies now. You can tell me anything, well, almost anyway, she said with another one of her infectious giggles.

    Well … Sabrina, first let me say something that you already have to know. You are one gorgeous woman, and I am not trying to hit on you; mainly because you are my neighbor. But what your statement told me is that you are not prejudice or overly sensitive about our differences.

    Oh, my, I’m not sure how to comment about that. I’m not prejudice in any way, and I have always loved the color of my skin.

    I know you said it as a joke, but it had the profound effect of letting me know that I don’t have to worry about every little thing I say about our races or our differences. The reason is because I have always tried hard not to hurt anyone’s feelings when it comes to religion, ethnic background, sexual preference, weight or anything else.

    She reached across the table and took my hands in hers. You’re a sweet man, Jason. Yes, I believe we are going to be good friends, she said as she squeezed my hands before letting them go.

    She went on and told me more about her work as a teacher, and she stressed how important it was to capture young minds and get them started down the right path before they develop any bad habits.

    After another twenty minutes or so, our glasses were empty again, and at that point, I had lost most of my inhibitions. However, I still knew better than to do something that I would regret the following morning. I went back to the kitchen and brought out the rest of the wine. Without asking, I filled up her glass.

    Are you trying to get me inebriated, Jason, so you can take advantage of me? she giggled while gregariously batting her eyes.

    No, I’m not, but only because you’re my neighbor. I swear, you are one hell of an attractive woman, I said as I raised my glass to her.

    She smiled cautiously at me for a few

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