by Cassia Leo
I laughed. “This genius prick is the only prick that can give you multiple orgasms,” I said, twisting her arm behind her back as I pushed her against the counter, pressing my hips into hers.
“Don’t,” she said, shaking her head as she pushed her free hand against my chest.
My mouth hovered over her lips as my gaze locked on hers. “Don’t what? Don’t touch my wife?” I slid my hand under her T-shirt and seized her tit.
“Don’t do this, Jack. We can’t ignore this. We have to talk about what happened,” she said, but her muscles were getting slack. Her resolve already weakening.
She could kiss or fuck a hundred men and she’d still never get me out of her system. Because no matter how angry or hurt she was, nothing would change the fact that I owned her soul. And I was going to make certain she would never forget that.
I let go of her wrist and took a step back. “This isn’t yours,” I said, tugging the bottom of the white T-shirt she was wearing.
“It’s Dylan’s.”
“I don’t give a fuck whose it is,” I replied, then I reached up, grabbed the collar, and tore it in half in one swift motion. “You can lose this, too,” I said, grabbing the cups of her bra and ripping it open.
She gasped and looked down at her bare tits. “Jesus Christ, Jack.”
I knelt on the floor and pulled her leggings and panties down. Placing a soft kiss on her Cesarean scar, I looked up at her, waiting for her to tell me no. But she was quiet as a mouse, her eyes hooded with lust.
I traced my fingertips up the inside of her creamy thigh, watching with great satisfaction as goose bumps sprouted all over her taut skin. When I reached her center, I smiled as I slid three fingers inside her, relishing the shock on her face. She gripped the edge of the counter to brace herself, closing her eyes in ecstasy as I swept her wetness forward, using it to swirl my thumb over her spot.
She was my little mechanical toy. Always yielding to my commands, I thought as I rubbed her swollen clit. All I had to do was touch her and she did whatever I wanted. She’d be whatever I needed.
I mentally tried to distance myself from her. As I traced slow circles around her clit, I imagined winding her up. Tick. Tick. Tick. Then, I watched her unspool before me, body trembling as she gave in to her unquenchable need to be touched by me. And only me.
She would never feel this way about anyone else. She could try, but I would never be out of her system.
I fucked her with three fingers, my hand sliding easily through the warm pool of pleasure between her legs. When she began to moan, I removed my hand and grabbed her by the waist to lift her onto the counter. Yanking off her boots and clothing, I spread her legs and smiled as she leaned back, her fingers splayed across the marble countertop as she willed her body to me.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked her as I massaged her clit.
With her head leaned back so far I could only see the underside of her chin, she begged. “Make me come, Jack. Please.”
She couldn’t fucking get enough.
I spread her flesh and took a long lap along her slit with my flattened tongue. She tasted musky and faintly metallic. I couldn’t see the blood, but it was there. And it wasn’t the first time I’d eaten her while she was on her period. I’d earned my red wings many years ago. Yet somehow, it was better this time, knowing I was going to leave a very lasting impression.
When she’d come at least twice, that glorious pussy clenching, begging for my dick, I slid on the condom. I didn’t care if the sight of it hurt her feelings. I wanted to make her ache with regret.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I lifted her off the counter and drove my cock into her as if my life depended on it. And in a way, it did.
When there’s nothing left to save of your broken marriage, that’s when there’s nothing left to lose.
As I carried her to the bedroom, I slid her up and down on my dick like a fucking toy. When I got to the bedroom, I tossed her onto the bed, the sound of her throaty laughter made me rock hard. As I stood over her, my pixie spread her legs for me, inviting me to take her anyway I wanted her. I stared at her for a while, making her wait for it.
“Fuck me, Jack,” she said, her voice hoarse with greedy lust.
I rolled her over roughly, smacking her ass as I pulled her up onto all fours. Grabbing her waist, I yanked her backward, my head falling back in pure fucking ecstasy when I was balls-deep inside her. I smacked her ass again. I was getting so fucking high on the sound of her screams.
“Harder,” she begged.
I pounded her with such fury that she shrieked with each brutal thrust. Though it was clear she was crying out in pleasure, I tried to imagine they were cries of pain.
I loved her. I loved her so fucking much. But right now, all I wanted was for her to hurt as much as I was. I wanted to ruin her, to shatter her into a million fucking pieces.
I wanted to leave her heart unrecognizable to anyone but me.
As my cock slid in and out of her, I used my thumb to massage her other entrance while she rubbed her clit. The smack of skin on skin went on much longer than it usually did without the condom, allowing her to orgasm a third and fourth time. It was an hour-long hate fuck that she would not soon forget.
She would be begging for more very soon, but her pleas would go unanswered.
I retreated to the bathroom to throw out the condom, take a piss, and wash up. When I came back, Laurel was still lying on her belly, trying to catch her breath but clearly satiated. I immediately entered the closet and grabbed a pair of her skinny jeans and her orange OSU Cascades hoodie.
Exiting the closet, I tossed the clothes onto the bed and went straight to my side of the bed.
“What’s this?” she said, turning onto her back and holding up the jeans.
I looked down at her and said the four words I had been dreading since the moment Laurel left me two months ago.
“I want a divorce.”
She propped herself up on her elbows and stared at me. “What?”
I bent over, my heart pounding as I grabbed her face and looked her in the eye. “Pay very strict attention because I am not going to repeat myself.” I let go and stood up straight as I looked down at her. “I. Want. A. Divorce.”
* * *
Preorder Seed (Evergreen Series #2) on iBooks, Nook, Kobo, or Google Play.
Click here to get a release alert as soon as Seed goes live on Amazon! Or text BOOKLOVE to 33222 to receive an email alert when Seed is released.
More swoony and angsty books to tide you over at cassialeo.com/books.
Also by Cassia Leo
Stand-alones
Black Box
The Heiress
Power Players Series
Luke (stand-alone)
Knox (stand-alone)
Chase (stand-alone)
The Story of Us Series
The Way We Fall (Book #1)
The Way We Break (Book #2)
The Way We Rise (Book #3)
To Portland, With Love (Book #3.5)
Shattered Hearts Series
Forever Ours (Book #1)
Relentless (Book #2)
Pieces of You (Book #3)
Bring Me Home (Book #4)
Abandon (Book #5)
Chasing Abby (Book #6)
Ripped (Book #7)
Unmasked Series
Unmasked Series
ROMANTIC COMEDY
Anti-Romance
Edible: The Sex Tape (A Short Story)
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
Carrier Spirits Duet
Parallel Spirits (Book #1)
Kindred Spirits (release date to be announced)
For more information, please visit
cassialeo.com/books
About the Author
New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo loves her coffee, chocolate, and margaritas with salt. When she’s not writing, she spends way too much time re-watching Game of Thrones. When she’s not binge watching
, she’s usually enjoying the Oregon rain with a cup of coffee and a book.
* * *
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Acknowledgments
I have a dark hobby of listening to true crime podcasts, my favorite one being True Crime Garage. Highly recommended. Almost every time I listen to a new case, it occurs to me that true life is really quite stranger and darker than fiction.
One particular case, where the father of the deceased went a bit off the rails in his quest for justice, made me wonder how I would react if that had happened to me. What would I do if, God forbid, my child’s life was taken by an unknown murderer? That hypothetical question was the inspiration for this story, especially Jack’s character.
This book started off with me wondering what losing a child to violence would be like. The story took many twists and turns I hadn’t expected. Ultimately, we have three characters who are so shattered beyond belief, they seem to break everything they touch. I look forward to sharing their journey of growth and self-realization with you all in Seed and Bloom.
Without further ado, I’d like to extend my eternal gratitude to my beta readers: Paula Jackman, Cathy Archer, Kristin Shaw, Sarah Arndt, Erin Fisher, Heather Carver, Stacy Hahn, Carrie Raasch, Kara Schilling, Jill Bridgeman, Beverly Cindy, and Ashlee Crawford.
This book tested the limits of what my beta readers could accept. I shocked them, angered them, frustrated them, and maybe, hopefully, entertained them. Through it all, they never failed to keep me in check, to challenge me, and to reassure me, when necessary. I love you girls. Thank you for putting up with my insanity, and for reading this book what must have like a billion times.
Thank you to Virginia Tesi Carey for proofreading the first version of Dirt, before I decided to completely rewrite it.
A big thank you to Alyssa Garcia of Inkslinger PR for always keeping me up to date and making this launch go so much smoother than it would have without her.
Thank you to all the bloggers and readers who signed up to share this release, the cover reveal, and their reviews of Dirt! Thank you for taking the time to read the book, post your reviews, cheer me on, and share my books with your friends. You rock!
To the readers who have shared their excitement for the release of this book. Thank you from the bottom of my blackened heart.
Every book I write is a gamble. I never know whether a book will do well. I spend hundreds of hours working on pure faith. It’s frightening and exhilarating and, quite frankly, a bit insane.
Every time I release a book, every time I send a story out into the world, it feels like one of those dreams where you find yourself naked in public. I hate those dreams. I hate feeling so exposed. But I love writing. I love sharing these small glimpses into the dark, hidden parts of my soul. I’m privileged to be able to do this for a living.
Thank you to all the readers who make living my dream possible, even if sometimes the dream is a bit terrifying. Like when I decided to completely rewrite Dirt two weeks before ARCs went out. Yes, that really happened. *sigh*
To Arielle, for helping me develop the idea for this book and for enduring my helicopter mom years. Your intelligence, talent, and wit make me proud beyond words. Thank you for being the best daughter any parent could hope for.