Giving In: The Sandy Cove Series (Book 1)

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Authors: M.R. Joseph

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Giving In: The Sandy Cove Series (Book 1)
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Giving In

Copyright © 2014 M.R. Joseph

 

All rights reserved.

 

Edited by Kathy Krick

 

Copyright © Jennifer Kearney Photography 2014

http://www.jenniferkearneyphotography.com/#2822

 

Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

https://www.facebook.com/FictionalFormats

 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

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

EPILOGUE

DEDICATION

 

 

 

To all the Indie Authors who have inspired me with your words and your stories. Thank you for sharing your gifts with me and the world. You are the reason I am doing what I’m doing today, so thank you for changing my life.

 

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

 

 

 

There are so many words to say, so many people to thank I don’t know where to begin. I’ll start with the ones who own my heart. Thank you to my husband for putting up with my crazy rants and your lack of clean underwear. You amaze me everyday and I could not have done this without you. Love you with my whole heart. For my kiddos who tell people in school that I’m an author, but they aren’t allowed to read my books. Love them so much. To my mom and my sister for sticking by me and encouraging me always. Mommy thanks for reminding me that no matter how many books I sell, I still put myself out there and went for it. Not many people can say that. To my extended family and in-laws, my best girlfriends in the world, you are wonderful supporters and I thank you for all your love.

My readers whom I have grown to know and love. I have developed such a friendship with you guys and I thank you for your dedication and kind words. If it wasn’t for you, I would not be writing this.

I’d like to thank my author friends for pimping me out, encouraging me along the way. Thank you to the following authors who inspire me with their books; Julie Prestsater, Rebecca Shea, Raine Miller, Monica Murphy, Katie Ashley, and Kristen Proby, Emma Chase, and so many more.

To my editor, Kathy Krick for doing such a beautiful job on this book. Thank you for your encouragement, suggestions, and fun talks. You are a wonderful editor and I am so glad I found you!

Thank you again to one of my saviors, Angela McLaurin at Fictional Formats for your beautiful work!

To my cover models Reuben Ondarza and Rosemarie Mount. I love you both so much! Thanks for taking one hell of a horrific day and turning it into something spectacular. I look forward to the next shoot. Ha, ha.

To my beautiful and talented photographer, Jennifer Kearney for your patience, your professionalism, your eye for a good shot even during a monsoon in October at the Jersey Shore. What a day, but what you created goes beyond a thank you.

To John and Lynn Ciminera, my aunt and uncle, for allowing me to use your beautiful home at the shore for the photo shoot. My appreciation goes beyond words.

To my betas. Tina Bell, Sandy Connor, Chrissy Massa, Laura Hash, Lisa McKeown, Tina Moss, and Stephanie Leone. Where would I be without you? No seriously. You all have made this journey so fun. Your encouragement, your ideas, your hard work, your patience when dealing with my crazy moods, your laughter, and the constant stream of ‘X-Files’ kept me motivated and strong and I love and thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Lastly, to the bloggers and reviewers. Where would any indie author be without you? Thank you, thank you, thank you for all you do!

 

PROLOGUE

 

Introducing Harlow and Cruz…

May 2012

 

 

 

“Did you lock the door?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s locked. I checked it twice.”

“Oh, God, right there, do that again, ah, that feels so good.”

“Put your hand there.”

“Where?”

“Here.”

“So what’s your name? Oh, God rub there, sweet Christ, you’re a good kisser.”

“Harlow.”

“Harlow, what kind of name is that?”

“My mom was a big fan of Jeanne Harlow. I have a sister named Greta as in Garbo and a brother named Crawford.”

“Crawford? That’s a strange name for a dude.”

“He was supposed to be a girl, Mom’s a Joan Crawford fan, Oh, God lick my neck there. That’s it, suck on my earlobe. Oh yeah, I like that.”

“Want to know my name?”

“If you find it necessary.”

“Raphael.”

“Nice to meet you, Raphael. Oh shit that feels good. Do you have a condom?”

“Of course. I always come prepared.”

“Well, thank God for small miracles.”

“Shit, what’s up with this button?”

“Wait, let me get it… there we go.”

“Sweet Jesus, you are huge.”

“Exactly what every guy wants to hear, thank you very much.”

“Oh God right there. Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh, that’s the spot.”

“Damn, you are so tight, if my fingers can hardly get in there, what makes us think my dick can.”

“Don’t think, just do.”

“Yes, ma’am. So where are you from?”

“New Jersey. Princeton actually. You?”

“Cherry Hill. Born and… Oh. Yea grip it just like that. Now jerk it harder. Oh fuck!”

“How’s that? Never mind I just got my answer.”

“These are some hot ass panties you’re sporting, girl.”

“Thanks, Victoria’s Secret does a woman good.”

“I’ll say. I wish I could rip them with my teeth.”

“Oh, I caught myself a kinky one, now did I.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you haven’t a clue.”

“Don’t come yet, are you ready? I’ll slide it on for you.”

“I was born ready, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby. I’m not your baby.”

“That’s right. You’re just some dirty little girl I just met at a bar, right? Oh, yea, you like that, don’t you? That’s it, just like that, ride my hand.”

“Oh, God, I love it when you talk dirty. Yes, tonight, I’m a dirty, dirty girl about to fuck a guy whose name I don’t even know against a bathroom wa… OH, fucking A! I’m ready. Come on and let me put it in already.”

“Fine, be my guest, and I told you, the name is Raphael, not God, but if you start screaming his name out as I make you come, then so be it. I’ve been called a lot worse.”

“Wow, seriously dude, this hardly fits you.”

“Yea, well, I ran out of the extra-large and this is all they had at the convenience sto… ooo… rrrreee, fuck you are tight as a frickin’ vice. Stupendous.”

“So what do you do for a liv… liv… Oh yea, harder. Oh Christ.”

“A living? Police Academy, as of now. Oh yea, like that, you feel so fucking good.”

“You are going to split me in two. Good Lord.”

“I bet you say that to all the strangers you fuck in bar bathrooms.”

“Nope. Never. I’m a bathroom virgin. I’ve never done this before. Who in the name of all that’s sacred and holy taught you how to kiss? Phenomenal.”

“A girl from my neighborhood. She’s like five years older than me. I asked her, and she showed me. We kissed a lot. Now she’s married to my brother.”

“Awkward.”

“Not anymore. My God you are the hottest girl I’ve ever been with, and believe me, there’s been plenty, but you, Harlow, are fan-fucking-tastic.”

“You are quite drunk, but thank you very much.”

“You are most welcome. Oh God ba… aaa… baby, I’m going to come, are you with me?”

“Yes, yes, yes, but I told you don’t call me… Oh God, here I go. Ahhh. YES.YES.YES!”

“Wow.”

“Wow is right.”

‘I’ve never…”

“Me neither.”

“Um, so what do we do now?”

“Nothing. Go back out there with our friends. You go to one end of the bar, I’ll go to other.”

“That’s cold, baby. So can I have your last name?”

“What did I tell you?”

“Yea, yea, don’t call you baby. I gotcha. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. And no last names, it complicates things. This was… fun. Let’s just leave it at what it is. Well, Raphael, it was a pleasure.”

“Pleasure is putting it lightly, don’t you think, Harlow? That’s what you said your name was right?”

“Yes, or you could name me the random dirty girl you just fucked against the wall of a bar bathroom.”

“I’d rather call you the best fuck I’ve ever had, will that suffice?”

“Well then I take that as a huge compliment, I’m flattered.”

“You should be.”

“Shake my hand, Raphael, and let’s get on with our lives.”

“Nice meeting you.”

“Same to you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

CHAPTER 1

 

Don’t I Know You From Somewhere?

Cruz~

 

 

 

Looks like it’s a slow night. You wouldn’t think it since it’s the beginning of the summer and all. How many God damn crossword puzzles can one person do in one night? How many times can I check my Facebook, or tweet shit? There has to be some dumbass teenager riding his Mongoose somewhere, half cocked off his rear. Maybe two horned up teenagers fucking in a car. I can give them one hell of a scare by banging my flashlight on their fogged-up window and make them shit their pants. That would be hysterical. At the most maybe I’ll be able to get a glance at some naked titties. But noooo… I have to stay here at this stupid side street and watch for drunk drivers. Now doesn’t that sound like a party? This boredom is almost too much to bear. Maybe I should text the little honey I did doggie style last night. I’d tap that again. What was her name again… Kelly, Shelly, Melly? Doesn’t matter as long as she doesn’t get too clingy.

I still have six more hours of this shift to go. This patrol car gets uncomfortable after being in it for a few hours. I should be drinking with my friends. It’s literally our second night here. When I got this rent-a-cop job, I didn’t expect to be working so soon, but this is a busy place. There are lots of clubs and bars, and that equals plenty of derelicts roaming the streets. So, while all my boys are getting acquainted with the ladies who, apparently, moved in next door today, I’m here, in this car, listening to calls come in over the radio to and from the station. My phone is buzzing. I’m guessing it’s Max or Porter texting to tell me how I’m missing out on some new hot pussy.

Oh, wait, never mind, it’s Kelly, Shelly, Melly. Fuck me, her name is Stacy. How the hell did I screw that up? Probably cause her name ends in a ‘Y’, or probably ‘cause I could give two shits less what her name is. I was drunk. She was there at the bar, waiting for it. I took her back to my house, and I gave it to her. My motto: get in, get off, and get the fuck out. I’ve always made my decisions about chicks based on this. It’s who I am, and I could care less who thinks it’s wrong. I don’t do relationships. I saw the constant stream of boyfriends come and go from my crack-head mother’s life, including my dad, so I want no parts of them. Zero, zilch, nada. Her text says she wants to know what time I get off, so she can get off.

Classy.

I send a quick text back:

Working till 6 AM. TTYL

I’m putting my phone on silent. I don’t even want to see a response from her. Why did I even give her my number? They are usually the ones giving theirs to me. I must have been pretty wasted to do it.

Oh, God, I seriously want to bang my head against this window. If it’s going to be this boring all summer long, next year I’ll stay home. I’ll get a permanent job somewhere in the city. It’ll be a lot more exciting with all the drug dealers and gang members, that’s for sure. I’ll miss this though. The shore house, the summers with no worries. Fuck worrying. Oh, whoa, oh… Oh… Looks like my night just got better. Look at this car driving 10 mph and swerving back and forth. Holy shit, I may just have hit the jackpot. God damn drunks. I have to pull out and start flashing those pretty lights.

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