The Game Never Ends. Zaire Crown

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Chapter One

      Tuesday checked her watch to learn that it was fifteen minutes past eight. She was late again. She cursed out loud and scrambled to get dressed.

      Over the past few weeks she had gotten sloppy and careless. Careless was something she had never been. Sloppiness was something she never tolerated.

      When she was back in Detroit, every minute of her day was meticulously planned, every decision weighed to the point of torment. It was the same neurosis that gave her the ability to analyze all the angles to a situation, and was the primary reason why her team pulled off so many successful licks.

      Now she was barely able to keep track of time and doing something so reckless that it could cost her life.

      She jumped into her panties and pants. She slipped her feet into her Marc Jacobs heels. Since she didn’t feel like taking the effort with her bra, she just shoved that into her Chanel bag after going headfirst into her shirt.

      Tuesday had received the storybook ending that most little girls dreamed about. She got her Prince Charming in the form of Marcus and lived in a big white castle in Beverly Hills. Prada, Gucci, and Dior were overflowing in closets large enough to get lost in. She had cars and jewelry and more money than she could spend. Most importantly she had Danielle and Tanisha: finally a family.

      So why was she at a low-rent bungalow in West Hollywood putting it all at risk?

      Like most transplants, Tuesday soon realized that Los Angeles was the most image-conscious city in the world, where every waitress, check-out girl, and parking valet was a model-slash-actress in waiting. Tuesday had always been thick, so the thirty-five pounds of baby weight she picked up carrying Tanisha did little for her self-esteem. Neither did turning forty. So the millions she poured into renovating the entire thirtieth floor at Abel to create a first-class gym just seemed like a conscientious move for her and the employees.

      Tuesday only hoped to reclaim some semblance of the banging body that had been as much a trademark as her color-changing eyes. She knew she would never again be the same bad bitch who used to cause thunderstorms when she danced at the Bounce House but wasn’t ready to let it all turn to pudding. Building the company gym had only been about keeping herself tight for her husband. She never intended to meet anyone.

      She never intended for her and a co-worker’s innocent flirting to lead to an innocent lunch date. She never intended for their innocent friendship to become a not-so-innocent relationship.

      There was nothing innocent about what just happened in that bungalow, and what had been happening several times a week for the past four months.

      Tuesday left Shaun sleeping on the bed, grabbed her purse, then rushed into the adjoining bathroom. Inside she checked her phone to find twelve missed calls. She hissed a string of curse words then bit her lip in frustration.

      As expected, most were from Brandon and the office sprinkled in with a few random numbers that were unimportant, but the final three were from her husband. Those haunted her. He had started calling at fifteen minutes after seven and tried two more times in fifteen minute intervals. Seeing this was like a gut-punch that dropped Tuesday onto the toilet.

      She pulled up her event calendar and saw that it was clearly marked there: Danielle’s School, 7 pm. She had saved it in her phone, and had her secretary give her a verbal reminder, only to forget still. Tuesday had totally lost track of time, which was happening more and more often while she was with Shaun. It was bad enough that she was lying to Marcus, and being late for (if not altogether missing) board meetings and appointments at work, but now she was even flaking on her daughter.

      And for what? Flawless caramel skin, an amazing body, and exotic features. Shaun was new and exciting but Marcus was her heart. It wasn’t even a contest.

      Tuesday stood and when she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror, she frowned. She was ripened by time but still had the luscious lips and gray-green eyes that made her a dime. Her skin had been bronzed some by the California sun. She eventually got her body right thanks to exercise, a low-carb diet, and a little bit of cosmetic surgery. It was not her appearance that had Tuesday put off by her reflection.

      She said, “Bitch, you fuckin’ up!” And the twin staring back at her nodded to agree.

      It was time to end this shit and she knew it.

      When Tuesday came from the bathroom, Shaun was sitting up on the bed waiting. Nude, twenty-two years old, and perfect. This byproduct of a black father and Peruvian mother had a body toned by discipline and good genetics. Shaun’s mind had earned that degree in accounting, but the looks had helped to pay tuition. The brief stint as a model had resulted in a few magazine spreads and video shoots as well as three hundred and fifty thousand followers on Instagram. Shaun was a gym rat whose dedication had helped to spark Tuesday. One of Tuesday’s favorite pastimes was smoking some good California kush and just watching the youngster walk around the house naked.

      Shaun was an Amazon, at close to five feet ten inches. When they met in the center of the room, Tuesday’s four-inch heels only put her at eye level with Shaun, who was still in bare feet. Shaun’s one hundred and thirty-seven pounds were always beach ready. What accentuated her figure was a pencil-thin waist and eight-pack abs. She had small up-thrust breasts with rubbery nipples that Tuesday loved to feed on almost as much as the pretty shaved pussy which always smelled and tasted of something sweet.

      Tuesday took it all СКАЧАТЬ