Gabriel - Jessie Cooke Page 0,40

thighs and into her opening. The feeling of being inside of her was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He had to bite his lip, and hard, to keep from coming as soon as her pussy wrapped around his cock. He fit her perfectly, and his head was swimming by the time he rested one hand on her hip, and began to move his own so that his cock slipped in and out of her. She was warm, tight, and wet...and she felt so much better than he’d ever imagined she would, and he’d imagined making love to her, a lot. While he drove his cock in and out of her, she pushed her hips back into him and they fell into a slow, sexy rhythm that made him bite down on his lip even harder.

He followed her lead, and when she increased the rhythm and movement of her body, he increased his. His hips were slapping into her round behind and the sound of it was like music, with only the sounds of their moaning and breathing to harmonize with. Gabe did his best not to end it all too soon, but the second he heard her cry out his name, and felt her let herself go, he lost all control. He had an orgasm unlike any he remembered ever having before. It shook his entire body, and staying upright on one leg was almost impossible. He wrapped his hands around her body and she pressed hers into the wall, and they slow danced against each other until both of them were able to breathe once again. It was by far the best sex he’d ever had. He didn’t know if it had to do with how sexy she was, or how long he’d waited, or the fact that he’d never had shower sex before, and he didn’t care. All he could think about at that moment in time was that he couldn’t wait for it to happen again.

15

Blackheart, Lowlife, and Le Pirate made it to Lincolnville at about 8:30 on a Wednesday morning. It was funny, after being so used to the constant hustle and bustle of New Orleans, to see the quiet little town. There was a kiosk selling lobster rolls next to a pier where lobster traps were being unloaded from a fishing boat. An old wooden boat filled with flowers marked the entrance to the town next to it, and a homey-looking inn sat across from that. Next to the inn were a few souvenir shops, a real estate office, and a pizza parlor. Across from that were two seafood restaurants and one that boasted of “Down Home Family Cooking.” Blackheart was starving, so he stopped his bike in front of that one and the other men followed. Of course, other than the post office further up the street, it also looked like it was the only place open yet in the sleepy little town.

The men got a few strange looks when they walked in the door, but as soon as they sat down, a friendly, middle-aged waitress in a yellow smock appeared at the edge of the table, coffee pot and menus in hand. “Hello there, gentlemen, out for a nice ride today, enjoying the weather?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Blackheart said.

“You all want some coffee?”

Blackheart had been up for hours and in all honestly he was already ready for a drink, but he smiled at her and turned over his coffee cup nonetheless. “Thank you.”

She poured his first and then the two others before sitting down the menus and saying, “I’d recommend the lobster and eggs special, it’s wonderful.” She left and Lowlife said:

“Ain’t never had lobster with my eggs.”

Le Pirate laughed and said, “Hell, I ain’t never had lobster. Crawfish was always good enough in my house.”

Blackheart listened to the two of them and his mind went back to what he’d learned about the man they had come to see. Before Patrice’s mother Kasey had gone to New Orleans for her father’s funeral, she’d been living with a man. Blackheart only knew this because of those diary pages he’d seen. He was surprised that Patrice hadn’t started there...but she didn’t have the resources he did, so maybe she hadn’t been able to find him.

The man’s name was Paul Grossman and he was a real estate salesman now in Lincolnville and another little town just about five miles away called Camden. Back in the days he was with Kasey he’d worked for a real estate company