GATOR: Wolves MC (Riding With Wolves Book 2) Read Online Free
Author: Faith Winslow
moment.
“I’ve done some things,” Jessica admitted in turn. “But I’ve never done what I’m about to do with you.”
Jessica reached down and unbuckled Carl’s pants, then undid his button and zipper, and Carl crept down in the seat to accommodate her hand as she slid it inside his boxers. She took hold of his swollen member and gasped a little as she pulled it out to expose and eventually release it.
The steel-toed boots that saved Carl’s life were a size thirteen—and sure enough, they were a valid indication of his manhood.
“I want you inside me,” Jessica whimpered.
“Are you sure?” Carl asked, gentle giant that he was.
“I’ve never been surer of anything,” she said, as she pulled her panties to the side and pushed herself on top of Carl.
Inexplicable. Inexplicable. The moment that he entered her was inexplicable. It was an entirely new, entirely foreign feeling for them both, and it got the better of them both in no time. Every ounce of excitement leading up to this moment—the kindness, the fear, the sweetness, the passion—all came to a head, which rather quickly erupted.
Within seconds of feeling Carl’s largeness inside of her, Jessica started writhing. She moaned and tossed her head back while her body pulsed against him. It all was too much for Carl to bear, and even though he’d just staved off a gator, he couldn’t stave off his own primal impulses, and he, too, started writhing,
Carl pulled himself out of Jessica’s delicious body just before he exploded and released several spurts of his nectar all over himself, soiling the suit jacket he was still wearing.
Both spent, the couple held each other for a moment, trying to catch their breath and regain their composure. For all the awkward, uncomfortable silence Carl had heard and felt earlier, he now experienced a different kind of quiet—a calm, beautiful thing that was soothing and reassuring.
But even a calm, beautiful silence is silence—and as such, it, too, must be broken. And this time, instead of Courtney’s shrill voice breaking it, it was Carl’s deep one.
“You’re amazing, Jessica,” Carl said.
“So are you,” Jessica replied. Then she giggled, pulled her head back from Carl, and added, “Actually, my friends call me J.T.; it’s short for my full name, Jessica Taylor. And after what we just did, I’d say we’re more than friends, so you can call me J.T., too, if you want.”
“Alrighty then,” Carl said with a big, beaming smile. “J.T. it is. Sorry I ain’t got no nickname of my own to tell ya. All anybody ever called me was Carl.”
“Well, do you want a nickname?” J.T. asked, still giggling, tossing her head back in glee.
“Sure, why not?” Carl answered. “What’d ya have in mind?”
“What about Gator?” J.T. proposed, looking Carl dead in the eyes and raising both eyebrows.
Carl chuckled and raised one of his. “Now why on earth would I wanna be nicknamed after a big ole thing that done tried to kill me?”
“Because, Gator,” J.T. said and smiled, “what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”
Chapter 4
September 15, 2015–San Francisco, California
The address the chief gave me was just over ten miles away from the station, and I made it to the scene of the crime in just under twenty minutes.
I parked my car two blocks away from the scene, however, so as to carefully scan the surrounding area as I approached. Sometimes the perpetrator of a crime sticks around to see what happens with the ensuing police attention and investigation, so I had to keep my eyes peeled for anything suspicious.
But I didn’t see much of anything as I approached, let alone anything suspicious. People were just going about their business and only occasionally, halfheartedly, paying mind to the taped-off crime scene with uniformed officers standing guard at its perimeter.
“Hey, Knowles,” one of them said when I came near. I couldn’t remember the officer’s name, and the sun
“I’ve done some things,” Jessica admitted in turn. “But I’ve never done what I’m about to do with you.”
Jessica reached down and unbuckled Carl’s pants, then undid his button and zipper, and Carl crept down in the seat to accommodate her hand as she slid it inside his boxers. She took hold of his swollen member and gasped a little as she pulled it out to expose and eventually release it.
The steel-toed boots that saved Carl’s life were a size thirteen—and sure enough, they were a valid indication of his manhood.
“I want you inside me,” Jessica whimpered.
“Are you sure?” Carl asked, gentle giant that he was.
“I’ve never been surer of anything,” she said, as she pulled her panties to the side and pushed herself on top of Carl.
Inexplicable. Inexplicable. The moment that he entered her was inexplicable. It was an entirely new, entirely foreign feeling for them both, and it got the better of them both in no time. Every ounce of excitement leading up to this moment—the kindness, the fear, the sweetness, the passion—all came to a head, which rather quickly erupted.
Within seconds of feeling Carl’s largeness inside of her, Jessica started writhing. She moaned and tossed her head back while her body pulsed against him. It all was too much for Carl to bear, and even though he’d just staved off a gator, he couldn’t stave off his own primal impulses, and he, too, started writhing,
Carl pulled himself out of Jessica’s delicious body just before he exploded and released several spurts of his nectar all over himself, soiling the suit jacket he was still wearing.
Both spent, the couple held each other for a moment, trying to catch their breath and regain their composure. For all the awkward, uncomfortable silence Carl had heard and felt earlier, he now experienced a different kind of quiet—a calm, beautiful thing that was soothing and reassuring.
But even a calm, beautiful silence is silence—and as such, it, too, must be broken. And this time, instead of Courtney’s shrill voice breaking it, it was Carl’s deep one.
“You’re amazing, Jessica,” Carl said.
“So are you,” Jessica replied. Then she giggled, pulled her head back from Carl, and added, “Actually, my friends call me J.T.; it’s short for my full name, Jessica Taylor. And after what we just did, I’d say we’re more than friends, so you can call me J.T., too, if you want.”
“Alrighty then,” Carl said with a big, beaming smile. “J.T. it is. Sorry I ain’t got no nickname of my own to tell ya. All anybody ever called me was Carl.”
“Well, do you want a nickname?” J.T. asked, still giggling, tossing her head back in glee.
“Sure, why not?” Carl answered. “What’d ya have in mind?”
“What about Gator?” J.T. proposed, looking Carl dead in the eyes and raising both eyebrows.
Carl chuckled and raised one of his. “Now why on earth would I wanna be nicknamed after a big ole thing that done tried to kill me?”
“Because, Gator,” J.T. said and smiled, “what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”
Chapter 4
September 15, 2015–San Francisco, California
The address the chief gave me was just over ten miles away from the station, and I made it to the scene of the crime in just under twenty minutes.
I parked my car two blocks away from the scene, however, so as to carefully scan the surrounding area as I approached. Sometimes the perpetrator of a crime sticks around to see what happens with the ensuing police attention and investigation, so I had to keep my eyes peeled for anything suspicious.
But I didn’t see much of anything as I approached, let alone anything suspicious. People were just going about their business and only occasionally, halfheartedly, paying mind to the taped-off crime scene with uniformed officers standing guard at its perimeter.
“Hey, Knowles,” one of them said when I came near. I couldn’t remember the officer’s name, and the sun
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