LIT
Gabrielle Gibson
Lauren Jones
Wrecked Hearts Series #1
Copyright ©2018 Gabrielle Gibson
First Edition
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places, and plots are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Jack
“YOU LIKE THAT?” JACK GRUNTED harshly against her ear, holding her down on the bed and thrusting into her from behind, hard and fast. “This what you wanted?”
“Yes, yes… oh God!” The hot little toy underneath him cried out, her vocalizations reminiscent of every porn movie he’d ever seen.
She was an eight and a half, for sure. Maybe even a nine. Great tits, tall with long legs, just the way he liked them. And best of all, horny as fuck and ready to get her pussy drilled with little to no small talk necessary.
The bed creaked underneath them as Jack plowed himself in and out of her, his hands gripping her hips roughly, pulling her back against him to meet each brutal thrust.
“You’re so hot for it. Been teasing me with this pussy all fucking night, haven’t you?” He slapped her ass hard, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Talking dirty always got him going, especially when it was reciprocated. “You want more? You want to come all over my cock again?”
“Yes! More, harder!” She was begging him for it, reckless and out of control, taking his relentless impact and each slap with loud moans, bucking wildly against him.
He reached underneath her so he could rub her clit and make her come again, as he pushed inside of her with deep and powerful strokes. He could tell she was close. Nothing he wanted more than to push her over the edge, feel her hot body tremble underneath him, lose control as he drilled her into the fucking mattress.
If there was one thing Jack Turner knew, it was how to get a woman off and make her come harder than she ever had. Just a talent he’d developed over many years of practice.
He looked down at her long, dark hair spread out around her, strands of it sticking to the sweat glistening on her back. The lap dance she had given him at the strip club earlier in the night had been the catalyst to this encounter. Nothing turned him on more than nailing a hot little slut like this one.
“Oh my God, yes! Fuck me harder! That big cock feels so good,” she panted beneath him. She cried out loudly as an orgasm ripped through her.
Hearing those words and feeling her convulse around his cock was enough to push Jack over the edge as well. He came, hard inside the condom, groaning and thrusting deep inside of her.
“Fuck!” He growled, as his pleasure culminated in an orgasm that seemed to rob him of the ability to think clearly for a moment.
After the intense feeling had subsided, he pulled out of her and flipped onto his back. He lay there for a few moments, catching his breath and staring at the peeling paint on her ceiling.
Her apartment was a fucking shithole. He was surprised that it wasn’t nicer. She was the hottest stripper in the whole damn club. He would have thought that she would make enough to be able to afford a decent place. But then again, he didn’t know anything about her situation.
Honestly, he didn’t care. He was there for the sex. That was it.
He got up and went into her tiny bathroom where he disposed of the condom and then quickly rinsed off in her shower. The water pressure was weak as he lathered her scent off of his skin.
Back in her room he reached for his clothes to get dressed.
“So do you want to get together again sometime?” The girl stared admiringly at the well-defined muscles of his chest, arms and abs as she spoke.
Between six years in the Marines and the past six years spending several hours every week in the gym, his body was ripped, every inch hard, chiseled male perfection.
He shook his head and answered her honestly. “Probably not.”
He glanced at her, unable to remember her name. The sex had been good, but not particularly memorable. He wouldn’t be interested in seeing her again.
That was the thing about Jack. Good wasn’t enough to warrant a repeat performance. Only the ones that blew his mind could compel him to want to get together again.
“Why not?” She sat up in bed, her impressive breasts drawing his attention as she lifted her arm to sweep her long hair off her shoulders.
He didn’t answer her as he pulled his jeans on. He knew where this was going. Next up would be the fucking questions. Don’t you want to see me again? Do you have a girlfriend?
He had gotten what he wanted, given her what she wanted, and now he was ready to go. He’d been perfectly clear that this was a one-night deal. But no matter how upfront he was, some girls seemed to think he was going to change his mind once he’d sampled their extra-special snatch. Only thing was, Jack had fucked his way through so many unbelievably hot women, he was nearly impossible to impress.
“So, do you have a girlfriend? Or maybe a wife?” She moved across the rumpled comforter on her knees toward the foot of the bed where he was pulling a dark t-shirt over his head.
“I didn’t come over here for conversation,” Jack said shortly. “If you want to give that mouth a workout I’ve got something else you can do with it besides talk.”
She reached for him and toyed with the button on his jeans. “Oh yeah?”
She pulled the zipper down and pressed her face against the front of his boxer briefs, where his cock was already hard again.
He pulled it out and rubbed the thick head against her lips. He grabbed the back of her head, his fingers yanking her hair slightly.
His voice was rough when he spoke. “You won’t be able to talk so much with my dick stuffed in there.”
“Mmmm…” she moaned, opening her lips for him.
He shoved himself into her mouth with a groan as she enthusiastically pleasured him, her tongue and lips enjoying every rock-hard inch.
“Damn, you know what you’re doing, don’t you? Fuck yeah… that’s good,” Jack growled, pumping himself in and out of her experienced mouth, his fingers finding her pussy and rubbing her clit as she sucked him off.
Instinct. Raw. Sexual. That peak that felt so good. Working the girl up to it and getting there himself. Each as critical to the experience as the other. It was all he wanted with her. Or with any woman for that matter.
A few minutes later he had finished and was zipping his jeans back up. He lost interest in her and made a quick exit, ready to get the fuck out of there.
In the dark, quiet parking lot, he fired up his Harley Davidson, the initial roar of the bike amplified in the stillness of the night. The noise simmered to a rumble as he took off across the asphalt. He inhaled deeply, letting the salty sea air invade his lungs.
He made his way back to his beach house, trying to push down the memory that he’d spent the past month avoiding. He’d spent most nights drinking and fucking, trying to keep his mind off of it, but as soon as he came down from the rush of pussy, and the alcohol that numbed everything started to wear off, the weight settled heavy on his shoulders again.
Watching Gus bleed out as he’d tried and failed to save his friend had been excruciating. But it hadn’t been the first time he’d watched someone he cared about die in agony. Only this time he wasn’t a helpless kid, strapped upside down in the backseat of a mangled car.
Losing Gus? That was his fault,
and he knew it. If he’d gotten done clearing that warehouse just a couple of minutes sooner, he would have been there when that shot rang out. He was sure he could have done something to stop the horror of what had happened.
He parked his bike in front of his beach cottage, which he’d refurbished himself four years ago on a prime oceanfront spot. It had been in such bad condition, the owners were practically giving it away.
He had spent countless weekends here, working his ass off for hours, turning the neglected, run-down shack into something truly special and unique. Sometimes his buddies had come down to help him. Chris and Sean mostly, but also Nick when he had been able to get away.
The house had taken a year to complete, inside and out. He had done it all himself, with help from the guys—demolition, rewiring, plumbing, insulation, floors, kitchen, bathrooms, huge deck overlooking the ocean, everything. Only things he’d paid to have someone else do were the new windows, granite countertops, roof and cedar siding.
But damn they’d had some good times here so far. It had been worth every penny and every second of work. He loved being by the ocean. There wasn’t any place he felt as good. Didn’t matter the season. Even on the coldest winter days he’d rather be here than anywhere else.
He and the guys had brought so many girls back to this place he couldn’t remember half of them. Hot tourists all summer and locals year round, the variety of women was impressive.
He didn’t bother turning on any lights as he entered the house. He headed for the bar and poured whiskey into a tumbler. He opened the door leading to the deck. Cody, his black lab, bolted outside with him.
Sinking into a lounge chair, Jack sipped the drink, staring moodily at the streak of moonlight glittering across the dark waves.
He sighed as his thoughts turned to Gus’s wife and the devastated, shocked look on her face at the funeral. No doubt she had expected many more years together. Not to be left to finish raising their kids alone, and then grow old without the love of her life.
Gus’s two pretty teenage daughters had sobbed as they each held onto one of their mother’s arms. Jack had looked away, staring stonily at the casket. Seeing their pain had made him uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to process that kind of emotion. It was so raw, so intense. Too much.
It was less than an hour until sunrise, so he didn’t bother going to bed. Something about watching the sun come up from beyond the horizon and flooding the world with light soothed him. Even when bad shit happened, a new day was only one sunrise away. Life went on. No point in dwelling on the past.
Jessie
JESSIE DRIED HER HANDS ON a paper towel before turning off the light in the kitchen.
“Okay, Mrs. Dixon. I’m all done in here.”
She stepped into the living room and smiled at the sweet old lady who was settled comfortably in her chair, a tray laying across her frail lap.
Mrs. Dixon smiled gratefully at her.
“Thank you, dear. You’re such a blessing. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Jessie smiled sweetly. “How’s your dinner? Do you need anything else?”
Her eighty-two-year-old neighbor had suffered a fall a couple of days before and was still feeling pretty sore. Jessie was doing her best to check on her and make sure she was okay.
Mrs. Dixon was the sweetest lady. Jessie loved her to death. Her own grandmother had passed away last year and she still missed her so much. Mrs. Dixon reminded her a lot of her Grammy.
“It’s perfect. So delicious. You’re going to make some lucky man very happy someday with your cooking. Not to mention that beautiful smile. Why don’t you have a boyfriend, honey? A pretty girl like you.”
Jessie smiled as she leaned down and gave Mrs. Dixon a kiss on her cheek. “Still looking for Mr. Right, I guess. I’m so glad you’re feeling well enough to get around. I’ll stop by to check on you sometime this week. Maybe we can play a game of Scrabble?”
“I’d like that, dear.” Mrs. Dixon’s smile lit up her eyes, the deep wrinkles around them a testament to the wisdom acquired over a long lifetime.
Jessie slipped out the front door, locking it behind her.
Strolling across the empty lot in between their two homes, she glanced out at the water behind her house. The sun wouldn’t set for another half hour or so, now that summer was just about here.
It was warm and dusky, twilight just about to blanket the air around her with a tranquility that made her strangely wistful. The feel and smell of the warm evening air made her think of days gone by, fun times hanging out with her old friends.
Things had been so different these past six months or so, since she and Scott had parted ways. Their old group of friends no longer did everything together the way they used to.
She had three weddings coming up this year and one of her roommates from college was even expecting a baby in a few months. Everyone was going their separate ways, growing up and moving on with life.
Except for her. Most of the time Jessie felt like her life was pretty much the same as it had been in college. Only difference was that instead of going to classes, she went to work. Sometimes she dated, but even that seemed to be just more of the same.
Every date she had been on in the past six months had felt identical to the one before. Every guy so much like her ex-boyfriend it was downright annoying.
She had broken things off with Scott, one hundred percent convinced that they were better as just friends. Her relationship with Scott had been just like all of her dates since then.
Predictable. Polite. Refined. Sophisticated.
Boring. Stuffy. Monotonous. Tame.
Not one of the perfectly bred and polite gentlemen her parents introduced her to made her feel anything. Where was the excitement? The racing pulse, the pounding heart? Scott had never made her feel any of those things either. Maybe her expectations were too high. Or maybe there was something wrong with her.
Jessie pushed the thoughts from her head. It didn’t really matter. Overall, she was very happy with her life. She lived in a beautiful house overlooking the river. She had a loving family, the world’s greatest best friend, and an awesome new job. She was sure she would meet the right guy eventually.
She checked her phone and found that Zoey had texted to let her know that she would be home around nine. She and Zoey had been best friends since elementary school. They had been roommates all through college, as well as for the past four years since graduation.
Jessie was excited about her new job. Her first week had gone really well. She was finally going to get a chance to do some real investigative work, instead of the decoy work that had required her to mostly use her looks to catch jerks cheating on their significant others. She would finally get to work real cases.
She opened the unlocked back door so her little dog, a white peek-a-poo named Libbie, could come out. She sighed as she sunk down into one of the new, cozy lounger chairs that she and her Mom had picked out last weekend during one of their epic shopping trips.
Zoey had spent the holiday weekend helping out at a fundraiser for the upcoming election. Her Dad would be seeking his fourth term as a U.S. senator. Zoey was happy to lend her event-planning skills to help out.
Jessie had helped Zoey prepare for the event on Friday night, and then spent most of the rest of the weekend alone, cleaning the house and binge-watching a romantic drama series she had been wanting to watch on Netflix. She had left the house only long enough to help Mrs. Dixon and to attend a cookout earlier that afternoon at her parents’ house.
Libbie jumped up into her lap, and Jessie absentmindedly petted her soft, curly fur, staring out at the river that her house backed to. She stretched out on the chair and sighed contentedly to herself, watching the prettiest sunset she’d seen in a long time.
Chapter One
JACK MANEUVERED HIS MOTORCYCLE BETWEEN the narrow lanes, winding his way through the maze of streets in Washington, DC, anticipation buzzing through him. He was anxious as hell
to get back to work. Sitting around doing a whole lot of nothing for a month had made him crazy.
It was a perfect day. Well, the weather was perfect anyway. Deep blue skies with puffy, white clouds. Warm and sunny. Later on in the summer there would likely be more heat, humidity, and strong afternoon storms in the nation’s capital. Taking the bike into the city wouldn’t seem like such a great idea then. Today, though, was a perfect day to be out on his motorcycle.
He slowly made his way through the heavy traffic another block or so, and then negotiated the sharp left-hand turn with ease into the entrance of the underground parking garage to his office building. The guards knew him and waved him in without making him stop to show identification.
It was the Tuesday after Memorial Day, and fuck, he had missed being at work. Jack almost never took time off. Even this month-long sabbatical hadn’t been his idea.
His colleague and friend of six years, Gus, had been tragically shot and killed while on a case with him, during a surveillance gone wrong.
Jack’s boss had insisted he take the time off. “Clear your head. It’ll do you good to get away.”
Jack had wanted to go back to work almost immediately. The last thing he needed was an abundance of time. Time for what? To think about all of the things he could have, should have done differently, so that Gus would still be alive? Those thoughts were already going to haunt him for the rest of his goddamn life.
Russell hadn’t given him a choice. And maybe he’d been right. Jack certainly felt clear headed now. Ready to get back to work.
“Roll with the punches.” That’s what Gus would have said.
If he wasn’t actively on a case, Jack often headed down to his beach house in Ocean City on the weekends. Sometimes his buddies came down to hang out with him. If not, he spent most of the time working from his balcony overlooking the beach and the Atlantic Ocean.
Or, preferably, in between the long legs of some hot piece of ass.
During the week he stayed at his somewhat secluded home overlooking the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay. He hated the city. Couldn’t stand the noise, the grime, the overcrowding. The hour-long commute into Washington, D.C. was something he had gotten used to pretty quickly, and it was well worth it.
Lit (Wrecked Hearts Series Book 1) Page 1
