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Dissolute

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Dissolute

Gibbs blinked at the sight that greeted him when he entered his house. It was true that he left his door unlocked, but generally his bastard demeanor kept even the most dissolute women away from him. Apparently, Alison Hart took it further than most women he knew.

His table would never be the same again. Shaking his head, Gibbs pointed to the door. “Get out!”

“But Jethro,” Alison simpered.

“Out!”

Alison slowly slinked her way off of the table and pressed up against Gibbs. She frowned when she didn’t feel even the slightest stirring of his cock. She looked down to be sure, but Gibbs just grabbed her arm and shoved her out the door.

“And stay out!” Gibbs growled.

Alison pouted, but slowly drove off. She wasn’t going to change his mind tonight clearly. Her shock at Gibbs’ lack of reaction made her leave and head back to her apartment.

She’d never had trouble getting any guy she wanted. She didn’t understand why Gibbs was different. Gibbs shook his head at the absurdity of some women.

Really, who thought that a guy would find it sexy to come home to a mostly naked woman lying on his dining room table. At least, she’d had a trench coat on, though it had been open and left nothing to the imagination. In Gibbs’ mind this was just a sign of how wrong the world had gone.

What happened to the modest women that didn’t give it out for free? Did no one understand that a man liked to do his own chasing? Did no one understand that a man sometimes liked the mystery of finding out what lay underneath a modest woman’s clothes himself?

Shaking his head, Gibbs headed down to his boat. Sometimes, he wondered if Shannon was the only woman who understood him besides his boat. He knew one thing for sure, Alison Hart didn’t have the heart to turn him on.