Stronger With Us (The Strength Series Book 3)
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Authors: JA Hensley
JA Hensley
Copyright © 2016 JA Hensley
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1537079486
ISBN: 1537079484
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
Cover design by Kate Roth
Cover photo by Eric David Battershell
Cover model Burton Hughes
Edited by Silla Webb and Danielle Goodwin
Formatted by AMJ Publishing
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my husband and daughter. Thank you for supporting me while I write, make swag, and travel to signings. I love you more than you will ever know!
Contents
"Harder
, fuck me harder,” she screams loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Part of me wants to just stop and get out of here, but wasting an orgasm is stupid. Instead, I pull out and flip her over so she’s on her knees. I push her head down to the pillow and hope that it will drown out the noise.
I grab her bony hips and push my cock into her pussy. She’s not all that tight, but it really doesn’t matter. I’m close to getting off and then I’m out of here. She seems like a clingy one, and I don’t have time for that.
“Oh, yeah, just like that, Jason,” she mumbles into the pillow. I don’t bother correcting her about my name. I slap her ass and then start pounding into her like she’s about to get away. Of course she continues to wail and shout profanities, but I tune her out. I’m focused on the prize and it’s within my grasp. A few more thrusts and I’m coming like a freight train. Thirty seconds later I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, dealing with the condom and looking for my clothes.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay,” she asks as she runs her hand down my back. All I can think about is getting the fuck out of here and away from this crazy woman.
“Sorry, but I’ve got an early meeting, so I really need to get going,” I say as I pull my pants up my legs.
“When can I see you again?” she asks in a whiny voice that sounds like fingernails on a chalkboard. I’ve really got to be more selective about who I fuck.
“Not sure, babe. I’m going to be out of town working for the next few months. How about I call you when I get back?”
She pouts, no seriously; she actually pouts her lips and looks at me like a lost puppy. I’m sure she thinks it will make me stay, but it only helps motivate me to find my shoes faster. Once I’ve put on the right one and have the left in my hand I turn around and look at her again. Why can’t these whores just understand that if they’re going to give it up after a few drinks that no man is going to want to stick around for the long-term? I try really hard not to think about how many other men have been in this same predicament with her.
“Gotta go. See ya,” I say as a bolt out of the bedroom.
Once I’m safely in my truck I breathe a little easier. That was not my proudest moment, and I briefly wonder what the fuck I’m doing with my life. I’m thirty-two years old and still fucking bar sluts. Not that I’m looking to settle down and have a wife and kids, but there’s got to be more out there than this. Maybe I need a regular fuck buddy who understands what that means. Someone who knows that it’s about the sex, not about feelings. Someone who won’t get all caught up in some bullshit insta-love and expect something I’m not ready to give. I laugh out loud. There’s no woman on Earth like that. They all want the fucking picket fence, the minivan, and the 2.3 kids that all their friends have. I’m not sure exactly who makes them believe in that fairy tale bullshit, but I’m quite certain there are a lot of men out there who would agree with me that an orgasm doesn’t require a life-long commitment.
The drive back to my apartment is uneventful, which at three in the morning, it should be. As I park in my reserved spot my phone buzzes with a text message.
7am meeting at HQ. Shit’s hit the fan.
So much for getting any sleep. This is the kind of thing that makes my heart race. I doubt that there’s anything really wrong, but the lack of detail drives me insane. It reminds me of when I was in Afghanistan and we’d get orders to take a village. You never knew what you were walking into; your life was on the line with every step. I used to enjoy the adrenaline rush, but the older I get, the more it just pisses me off. My brother would call me a pussy if he knew, but he’s always been the hero and I’ve always been the fuck up. Just ask my father, he’d happily tell you how Jude is the disappointment.
I get out of the truck and head inside to get the whore’s stink off me. Hopefully that will help pull me out of this funk and be ready to fight another day.
The office is buzzing. All the local agents are here, even those who’ve been assigned to smaller undercover operations in the area. Everyone seems on edge and no one seems to know what’s going on. I see my brother’s former partner, Kevin Turpen, sitting in the back, seemingly unaffected by the confusion going on around him.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” I ask as I sit down next to Kevin.
“Same shit, different day. What’s going on with you?” he asks without looking away from the crowd in the front of the room.
“Nothing much. You seem awfully chill in a room full of nervous Nellies. You know something about this?”
“Nope. I just figure there’s no reason to get all worked up until you know what’s happening. Waste of energy if you ask me.”
“Well, okay then,” I mutter. I wish I had that outlook on life. It probably would have saved me a bunch of crap. My thoughts are interrupted by an abrupt silence. I look up and everyone has stopped talking and is scrambling for a seat as the regional director of the DEA walks into the room followed by several supervisors. Up until a few months ago I was one of those guys; always following the big wigs around and running operations. Now, not so much.
“Thank you for being on time this morning,” RD Flores says. “I know most of you are wondering what this is about. There have been many rumors floating around, but I’m here to give you the facts. The federal government has decided that they are going to make some changes in how the DEA operates. The current administration doesn’t feel that we’ve been all that effective in the war on drugs in this country, especially in Florida. So, as of today, many of our operations have been suspended or closed. Many of you will be reassigned to the Miami office, where the President feels we should be concentrating our efforts. The Tampa office will be run by a skeleton crew for now and is slated to be shut down completely by the end of the year. Your direct supervisor will meet with you individually over the next two days and give you the new assignment. That is all.”
As the regional director walks out with his “yes men” in tow, the room erupts in a cacophony of curse words and fists pounding on desks. I look over at Kevin and find that he’s not moved a muscle.
“Are you okay?” I ask hesitantly. His lack of response could be taken a couple different ways.
“I’m not thinking about blowing up the building, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Kevin answers somberly. That does make me feel a little bit better.
“So, what are you thinking?”
“Honestly, I’m trying to decide if it’s even worth the bullshit. If the president of the United States doesn’t think we’re doing our best, then what the fuck are we doing it for? I certainly don’t get gratitude from the shitbags we send to prison. The prosecutors are never satisfied with the evidence we produce, and the defense attorneys are tiresome, at best. So, I’m thinking this is my way out. I’ll ask for early retirement instead of being transferred. The last place on fucking Earth I want to live is Miami.” He shakes his head and stands up.
“I hear that. My Spanish sucks, and there are too many fucking tourists down there.” What the fuck am I going to do? With my track record I’m sure to get a shit assignment in the worst possible area. I feel a hand on my shoulder and see Kevin looking at me with pity.
“You may want to think about getting out too, Jude. This won’t turn out well for you,” Kevin says as he walks away. How does he always know what other people are thinking?
I stay where I am while the room clears out, trying to decide how to play this one. There’s nothing holding me in Tampa. My father still lives in Minnesota and Colin is living with Becca in northern Florida.
“Schafer, my office, now!” My commander interrupts my thoughts with his shouted order. I really hate that guy. He reminds me a lot of my father, and that is not a good thing. Being the petulant child that I am, I take my time getting up and walking to his office. When I finally get there I know it’s going to be ugly. The Regional Director, the Special Agent in Charge, and a man I don’t recognize are all waiting for me.
“Close the door and take a seat, Agent Schafer,” I’m ordered by the unknown man. Based on everyone’s facial expressions, I comply without complaint. The director walks around the desk and stands in front of me.
“Schaefer, it’s no secret that you’ve been a pain in my ass since the day you started here. You’re insubordinate, irresponsible, and reckless. You’ve also gotten the job done every time you’ve been given an assignment. That’s the only reason you’re still here. If it had been up to me, I would have fired you years ago. However, now that things are changing, I have my chance. Do you think you should be given a new assignment, Agent Schafer?”
I take a second to work out how I’m supposed to answer that question, never breaking eye contact with the pompous ass standing in front of me.
“Sir, I have no doubt that I should be given a new assignment. As you just stated, I always get the job done. What did you have in mind?” I ask as I lean back in the chair. This should be interesting.
He shakes his head and scoffs. “You really are an asshole, aren’t you, Jude? Just when I think you might actually show some humility, all you prove is that you’re a cocky son of a bitch.” He walks back behind the desk and gestures toward the man I don’t know. “This is Special Agent Williams. He has been tracking your activities for the past four weeks. Do you know what we’ve learned about you? You’ve had a very busy month. In fact, last night you were seen leaving the house of Senior Agent Vaughn’s daughter. You fucked her, didn’t you?”
My mind is racing trying to figure out who Vaughn is and why his daughter is significant in this meeting. I never asked that chick her name, and I didn’t really care. My sex life has gotten me in trouble before, but this seems to be more serious.
“Vaughn is the Liaison to the Agency Director in Washington, DC. You’ve pissed off the wrong people, Schaefer. In fact, based on the call I got at six this morning, you’re done. Vaughn wants you out of the DEA. So, you have exactly fifteen minutes to clear your desk. You’ll give your badge and credentials to me now and Agent Williams will escort you out of the building. Any questions?”
“No, sir, questions seem to be a waste of everyone’s time,” I say as I stand and hand over my agency-issued wallet that contains my badge and identification. “I don’t keep anything personal in my desk so there’s no need for an escort. I’ll see myself out.”
He grabs my arm as I make my way toward the door. I stop and look him in the eye, refusing to back down. “Don’t fuck with me, Schafer. If I even get a hint that you’re still messing with old cases, I’ll have you arrested so fast your head will spin. Now, as I said, Agent Williams will escort you out of the building. Be a good boy and do as you’re told for once,” he says as he shoves me out the door that Williams has opened.
The walk is silent, only the sounds of our footsteps echo in the hall. Thankfully it’s a short distance to the exit and as the door slams behind me I take a deep breath. So, this is what freedom feels like.
