G-Men: The Series (2 page)

Read G-Men: The Series Online

Authors: Andrea Smith

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 6a

chapter 7

chapter 7a

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

epilogue

bonus chapter

bonus chapter

warning

fake chapter

Q + A for characters

These Men

playlist

prologue

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

Bonus Chapter

About the Author

G-Men, the Series

I hope you enjoy the five complete works contained in this boxed set.

Please note that there are some sensitive scenes contained in “Love Plus One,” specifically a rape scene that can be a hot button for some women, but it is important to the plot, and hopefully I’ve written it in such a way that it is not overly graphic.

These books are sexually explicit and intended for adult readers, meaning 18 years of age and older.

A special thanks to my street team, for all of the support in getting the word out about this special boxed set!

And many thanks to Erik Gevers, and his magic in bringing all of this together with his perfect formatting!

The next installment in the G-Man Series is entitled “Taz” and will be released on March 31, 2015, but is available for pre-order now at a discounted price on Amazon!

Here is the link:
www.amazon.com/dp/B00U09LAL4

Thank you so much for reading my series!

Andrea Smith

playlist

“Diamond Girl” by Seals & Crofts

“Born To Be Wild” by Steppenwolf

“Girls, Girls, Girls” by Motley Crue

“Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake

“Feeling Good” by Michael Bublé

“Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard

“Bad Girlfriend” by Theory of a Dead Man

“Slow Dancing In a Burning Room” by John Mayer

“Gimme Shelter” by The Rolling Stones

chapter 1

I pulled the meatloaf out of the oven, slamming the oven door shut with my left thigh as my pot-holdered hands set the finished entrée on top of the counter. I glanced quickly at the clock on the stove. It was 6:45 p.m. I’d set the table with our good china and silverware. Meatloaf was Jack’s favorite, along with cheesy potatoes. I’d made his favorite dessert as well: Boston Crème pie. I just needed to make a quick trip to the bathroom to check my hair and make-up.

This was the first dinner Jack and I were having together since Lindsey had left for college two days earlier. He’d promised he would be home on time after work. He’d been rolling in past 9:00 p.m. off and on over the past eighteen months. I’d finally told him enough was enough.

Jack explained that his promotion to the V.P. of marketing for the East coast region would require long hours. I got that. I had no clue that it would entail approximately months on end without sex, though. That part was getting to be a real drag.

Jack blamed his workload, jet lag and general exhaustion for his lack of sexual appetite. I knew there was more to it than that.

I studied myself in the bathroom mirror. I had to admit it. At thirty-five-years-old, I was officially a ‘frumpy housewife.’ I’d pulled my light brown hair up on top of my head with a clip. F-R-U-M-P-Y!

Thankfully, I’d put on a clean pair of jeans and a sweater. Jack was used to seeing me in sweats and a tee shirt. My jeans were noticeably tighter than when I wore them last. I was trying to remember exactly when that had been.

I reached into my cosmetic bag to get my compact out to dab a bit more blush onto my cheeks. I saw my fingers reflected in the vanity mirror. My God!

My nails were chewed down below the cuticle. Whatever had happened to the beautifully manicured nails that I had as a newlywed?

I knew the answer to that question before it had left my mind. The baby had followed the wedding ceremony, in short order. There were diapers, spit-up, formula, teething, cleaning, laundry, and trying to keep my head above water with Jack. He was a very persnickety man.

He liked order.

He liked perfection.

I didn’t fit into either category.

I guessed the reason that Jack had been extremely patient with me over the years was because of the great relationship he had with my father.

When I had discovered that I was pregnant at sixteen, I’d been terrified of telling my folks. I was an only child, and I’d understood through my upbringing that there were certain expectations. Those expectations hadn’t included my brief, sexual interlude with Jack Dennison.

Jack was two years older than me in high school. He was an all-around athlete. He played varsity football and was the star point guard for the Northwood High Raven’s basketball team. I never thought he would have given me a second look. He was gorgeous and sexy, even in high school. There wasn’t a girl at our school that hadn’t drooled over him at some point in time.

The truth was he hadn’t
really
given me a second look that night. It was more like we were at the same post-game party and he was drunk. He’d been extremely attentive to me at the party, and I was simply an infatuated sophomore girl on the cheer squad enamored with him like all of the others. I felt honored when he wanted to slip upstairs to be alone with me. We had talked and then started making out. I had no clue that the rest was going to happen.

I remember creeping back into my parents’ home the next morning. I’d stayed the night with my best friend, Becky. My mother had been up putting the coffee on when she saw me quietly coming in at a little after 7:00 a.m.

“Samantha? Why are you home so early?” she had asked, eyeing my somewhat disheveled appearance. I was still in my cheerleading uniform.

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep at Becky’s, Mom. Kerry had the flu and was puking all night, so I had to get out of there, you know?”

“Now, Sam,” she’d said, giving me the hairy eyeball, “Are you sure that Kerry had the flu, or were you girls drinking beer? I was a teenager once you know? And I know what went on back then.”

“Mom, I
swear
, as far as I could tell, none of us girls drank any beer or alcohol of any kind.”

“Well, alright then,” she replied, shrugging. “Go get out of that uniform and into your PJ’s. You need more sleep than what you probably got over at Becky’s house. Don’t wake Daddy.”

“Okay, Mom,” I had said, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I promise not to wake Daddy.” I knew that she wouldn’t wake Daddy, either. I was his princess and my mother wouldn’t do anything to banish me from his kingdom.

I had collapsed into my own bed that morning, not realizing for an instant the implications of what had happened the previous night. The strange thing was that I couldn’t recall wanting Jack to do the things that he’d done to me. I was positive that I’d heard myself telling him “no” beneath his lips that were crushing mine with passion and just plain old drunken horniness.

Afterwards, as I’d tried to sit up on the bed, my mascara streaming down my cheeks, searching for my ripped panties, I realized that I hadn’t wanted what happened to happen at all. He was simply drunk and incoherent at the time. He seemed to be used to getting his way with girls, and I was sure that he generally met with no resistance.

I wasn’t even sure that he had been aware of what happened. I mean I couldn’t very well blame
him
for something that he’d done while under the influence. Afterwards, he had simply told me that I was a “great fuck” and then passed out next to me on the random bed where we’d done the dirty deed.

Six weeks later, I knew that something was terribly wrong.

So, I naturally did what any sixteen-year-old girl would’ve done when faced with such a dilemma: I confided to my best friend, Becky.

“Holy crap, Samantha, why didn’t you tell me what happened that night? Aren’t we supposed to be best friends?”

“Can you please be mad at me about that later, Bec? Right now, I’m freaking out. I needed to tell someone. I don’t think Jack even remembers.”

“Well, first of all, you need to make sure you’re really pregnant. Let’s stop by Whitaker’s Drug Store after school and pick up one of those testing kits.”

“I can’t stop
there
,” I had whined. “What if Mr. Whitaker is there? He knows my dad.”

“Samantha,” Becky had said in her matter-of-fact voice, “
Everyone
knows your dad, I mean there’s no getting around
that.

She was right. My father was the CEO of Banion Pharmaceuticals, one of the largest employers in town. His father, my grandfather, had founded the company fifty years prior. Like Becky, and most everyone else at our school, I’d been born and raised in Indianapolis, Indiana. My father sat on the board of trustees for two local banks and the Chamber of Commerce. He had recognition and power in the community.

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