No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) Read Online Free PDF

since he trusts the guys…”
    “Is it every time?” Would Phil do that for me, if it were what I needed? Probably not. He’d fuck us both to death in an attempt to get me off first.
    “It used to be in the beginning but not so much now. I guess it really depends on where my head’s at.”
    I sucked in a deep breath and voiced what had been on my mind for a while now, “Did something bad happen to you, Sheri?”
    “You could say that,” she replied.
    “Have you spoken to anyone about it?”
    “I used to see a shrink, but I stopped going when I met the guys. It’s hard to be shrunk when you’re touring. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to start seeing one again now that we’re home. I used to feel better after I had my sessions.”
    “I think that might be a good idea. You need to talk to someone, and I get the feeling it’s way beyond my scope of practice.”
    She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah.”
    Back at the Plantation House, we headed into Phil’s half to add the seafood to the already prepped and simmering gumbo base. I had dumped everything into the slow cooker before Sheri and I’d left.
    As I was chopping the catfish into chunks, Sheri set up the blender and made Jason a smoothie since he had to take some painkillers soon.
    “They make him so ill when he takes them on an empty stomach,” she complained as she rinsed out the appliance. “I’m going to run this down to him.”
    “He should probably take a rest before dinner.”
    “Okay.” She headed through the sliding panel door.
    Ten minutes later, as I scrubbed my fishy hands in the kitchen sink, I heard the door slide open. Thinking it was Sheri, I looked over my shoulder and instead found Phil staring at me, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.
    “Hey, babe.” I dried off my hands.
    The lock on the door turned, and my eyebrows rose in surprise.
    “Fuck me runnin’,” he growled, stalking his way over to me until his huge body pressed against my back, trapping me against the countertop.
    What personal space? I thought dryly.
    “What’s up?” I asked.
    “What the fuck are you wearin’?” He panted, sliding his hot palms up under my shirt to cup and massage my tits.
    “Jeans and my new halter top,” I replied, pushing my butt into his groin.
    He started dropping those tonguing kisses I adored on my shoulder and neck while his calloused fingers began plucking and rolling my nipples.
    “Are we about to have kitchen sex?” I laughed, reaching up and twining my arms around his neck.
    “Too. Fuckin’. Right,” he replied.

    Stirring the gumbo, I looked up to see Alys and Lili traipsing through the backyard. Without me having to ask, Alys had picked up two-dozen French bread rolls to have with dinner. I truly found these sorts of little things that she did for me endearing. I had completely forgotten that Grandma loved her white French bread rolls with her fiery bowl of gumbo or jambalaya or chicken soup or beef stew—she had a running theme going—but Alys remembered, and she’d gotten enough for everyone to have Grandma’s little must-have.
    Jogging to the back door, I opened it and told them “Hurry your asses up!”
    “How was it last night?” asked Alys as she plopped the rolls onto the island countertop.
    “Oh, no! I heard you spent the night with X again. You spill first!” I demanded, laughing.
    Lili smirked wickedly. “She wouldn’t say anything, except—”
    Alys lightly elbowed her in the ribs. “Shh!” she hissed. “Is Phil here?”
    After a quickie against the counter, Phil had returned to the basement.
    “Nope, they’re all down in the music room. So?” I prompted Alys.
    Alys sighed. “Oral—on me, not him. Like, for hours , you guys. He was a fucking machine with it, too. It was fan-fucking-tastic! I think I came five or six times. I could hardly move by the end. I was all shaky and limp.”
    “Damn!” barked Lili.
    “No shit,” I said. “So, what did you do for him then?”
    “He just