by J. J. Sorel
ENFOLD
THORNHILL Trilogy
Book 3
By J. J. Sorel
Copyright ©2018 J. J. Sorel
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews or articles. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events and incidents are pure product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or an actual event is purely coincidental and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or content therein.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
All the characters in this fairy-tale romance are consenting adults. For those readers who like their romance novels peppered with descriptive sex scenes, then this is for you. However, for those disinclined towards steamy boudoir scenes I suggest you either approach this with an open mind, or just pass it on to someone looking for an escape in the arms of a sexy read.
BOOKS BY J.J. SOREL
Entrance – Thornhill Trilogy 1
Enlighten – Thornhill Trilogy 2
Enfold – Thornhill Trilogy 3
The Importance of Being Wild
I dedicate this novel to all those hopeless romantics out there.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGTHEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
FREE SAMPLE READ – THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING WILD
CHAPTER ONE
AIDAN
All the usual suspects were there, including some that had not been invited. One of those being my ex-fiancée, Jessica. She was the last person I wanted around. But there she stood, posing in her typical must-be-center-of-attention way. Her plastic flesh spilled out of a dress that was so tight that I was certain she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Not that she turned me on. If anything, Jessica repulsed me.
Instead, I cast my eyes over at my beautiful girl. She always managed to chase away my fears. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what Jessica had been plotting. Those teasing green eyes of hers were filled with spite. That was plain to see.
Clarissa was bubbly and bouncy. Perhaps a little too bouncy for my liking. Privately, yes, yes, yes. I couldn’t get enough of her tits. But not in public. I exhaled a frustrated breath. What was a jealous, possessive man to do? I couldn’t exactly strap them down. That pretty, thin-strapped green gown offered little support. And as I watched Clarissa smiling and chatting with the guests, I couldn’t help but notice that all the men’s eyes were directed at her.
Tabitha, who had her own collection of admirers, had her arm linked with my father’s. They were in love. Or at least, Grant said they were. He admitted it to me the day I returned from a work trip, after I ran into him at the estate, where he’d been crashing all week.
Sara, his partner of ten years, had thrown him out. Which didn’t surprise me. One-night stands, she could tolerate, but googly-eyed romance, that was another thing.
My father had a weakness for young blonde women, and Tabitha, who was thirty years younger, fitted that specification perfectly. Although she wasn’t my type, I was more than aware of her charms. She was certainly all over my father.
I warned him that she changed her men as often as her underwear. But he just laughed it off. I had to admit his eyes had a glow that I’d never seen on him before. At the time, I recognized it well enough since I’d seen it in the mirror when looking at myself. That same relaxed, flushed look of arousal and satisfaction. It had been a first for me as well. But then, Clarissa was a first. I had it just as bad as my father.
Despite it being nice to see Grant happy, an uncomfortable tightness still sat in my gut. Evan, a good buddy of mine, had been heartbroken after Tabitha left him for my father. It was a fucked situation that I wish I weren’t in the middle of.
It had gotten so bad that Evan, while stalking Tabitha, ran into them walking arm in arm on the street.
The story had it that in an instant, my father and Evan were in each other’s face, puffing and swearing. Tabitha pulled them apart. Something told me my father would have come off second best.
After that incident, I met with Evan to discuss the situation. I found myself on a slippery path. It was not my thing to get involved in others’ little fucked-up scenarios. But after a few beers at a dark and discreet bar, I loosened up and spoke to him about his jealousy. I told him that beating women was barbaric and unforgivable and that he needed help. I also mentioned that I had to sweet-talk Clarissa for days in order to keep him employed.
His dark eyes shone with regret. I could see Evan was a broken man. If anything, I felt sorry for him. We shook hands in the end. I reassured him that our friendship and working relationship would remain intact as long as he promised to stay away from Tabitha. And so, the saga ended there. Or at least, I hoped.
Being head of security, Evan was my top guy. He knew the system inside out. He was a tough wall of a man. The type of guy an empire like mine needed. Especially at that moment, with so many ghosts of my regrettable past shadowing me.
I could not have given give a shit about me. But hell, if anything had happened to my girl, I’d hate to think of what I’d do.
I would kill for her. I would give every dime I owned to protect her. Because I knew that, without Clarissa, the successful version of me would crumble.
My addicted eyes crept back to her. She had that rosy complexion she got when engrossed in conversation about art. I loved her brain. Every day, I saw something new in her. My love for her would grow forever. Of that, I was certain.
I thought about the line a of song I’d written the night before. It went: ‘Like some magic tree, nourished by love and heading for heaven, my love for you will grow on and on and on.” It was one of the many songs I’d written since meeting Clarissa. Of course, she was always the subject.
In fact, my love for Clarissa was so profound, I could swear that she’d entered my whole being. For a man who’d insisted on being an atheist, I suddenly found myself looking up to God and thanking him for bringing her into my life.
The auction up to that point of the evening had been a complete success. Every painting sold for well over the reserve. Clarissa had arranged the event to be held at an upmarket
gallery, and everyone who was anyone in the art world had turned up. Chris, the artist and mentor, was in his element. Not that he had been that friendly. But I could see that, with his badass attitude, he’d been having a ball while attracting attention at the same time.
I hid in a corner. I wasn’t in the mood to talk empty shit with people I didn’t know.
Clarissa sashayed toward me.
“Hey, princess. Come here and hold my hand. I’m getting insecure.”
She giggled. “Oh, Aidan. I could say the same about you. You look gorgeous in those cream linen pants. All the women are finding it hard speak.”
I drew her tight and kissed her. “Well, I’m finding it hard to move, watching that luscious body of yours spilling out of that pretty dress.”
Her large brown eyes sparkled. “Then I’m glad you wore loose-fitting pants.” A sultry smile curled her lips. “You’re very big, you know.”
I frowned. “No, I’m not.”
She leaned in and whispered, “I have nothing to compare you to, but you always manage to make me burn.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Clarissa, it’s because, sexy girl, your exquisite little pussy is seriously tight.”
And so it went on, our lusty banter. By that stage, I wanted to grab her and take her somewhere dark so that at least my hands could feast on her soft, warm flesh.
We’d been together for four months. I couldn’t believe how my heart, soul, and cock craved Clarissa to the point of urgency. It was an addiction that was as unnerving as it was exhilarating. I had suddenly discovered what all the poets had been on about for centuries.
Chris nodded over at us.
The second half of the auction was about to start. Cock-slinger Freak, the painting of the night, and one that had everybody talking, was about to be auctioned.
Roy, the artist, was as nervous as they came. He’d approached me earlier, admitting that. I patted him encouragingly on the arm and told him that his bank account would soon look healthier. He nearly cried. Just that response alone had fulfilled my aim to help talented, fallen creatures to find themselves through art while earning an honest living.
“Hey, guys,” said Chris with a big grin. He was in his element. Chris loved a crowd. He worked it well. He must have been the most confident junkie I’d ever met. Not that I’d met that many.
He rubbed his hands together. “This is it. I’m going to be sad to see it go. I’m almost tempted to buy it.”
Chris’s eyes remained fixed on Jessica, who stood on the other side of the room, mincing amongst the well-heeled and the arty-types who, in contrast, couldn’t pay their rent. The latter added color and were there predominately for the free liquor. I didn’t mind. In many ways, I related to them more than the society folks because, deep down inside, I was still that hungry, barefooted little boy growing up.
Clarissa, with that rare heart of hers, stopped me from throwing Jessica out earlier in the evening after she’d pranced through the door, wearing that self-entitled, haughty smile she always carried with her. In any case, she’d stayed away from me all evening, despite those cat eyes stealing little glances that I either ignored or scowled at.
“Aidan, who’s that chick?” Chris asked, cocking his head in Jessica’s direction.
“That’s Jessica. She’s an ex. She’s fucking trouble.”
“Mm… my favorite type of woman,” he rasped with a wicked curl of his lips.
“Which? Exes or troubled women?”
He snorted. “Both. The more fucked-up and desperate they are, the better they fuck.” He slurred his words. His shoulder-length blond hair had not seen a comb for some time. He had heavy-lidded, stoned blue eyes, and slouched in a don’t-give-a-shit way.
I didn’t think I’d ever spoken to Chris once when he was straight. Regardless of that, he worked tirelessly. For me, the fact that Chris had a genuine desire to see his students succeed mattered most. What people did behind closed doors and to their bodies was their own business.
Perched on an easel, the canvas depicted ejaculating blood leaping out at the viewer in a brutal fashion. A gun, cleverly painted to resemble a penis, added to the visceral impact of the work.
It started at two thousand dollars, which I had thought was too low, but Chris assured me that it would act as a teaser. I got that. The more bids there were, the more likely buyers would be inclined to compete.
During my short experience attending auctions, I’d observed how it brought out the competitive streak in the rich. For me, it was the love of the item that made me fight to the end. Especially the Godward piece that I’d paid a tidy sum for. Every time I looked at that painting, I was reminded how incredible it was that the reclining woman looked so much like Clarissa. The fact I hadn’t met Clarissa at the time made my desperate need for that painting almost supernatural. Although it might have been coincidental, for me, there was something else, more mystical, witchy even, just like Clarissa.
The bidding pushed along at a feverish pace. We were up to twenty thousand dollars when Clarissa squeezed my hand. It was exciting for me, too. I cast a glance at Roy, who was sucking on his bottle of beer as if his life depended on it.
When it got to fifty thousand dollars, Chris turned and winked at me. I grinned back. He was a sonofabitch, but I liked his spirit.
It did not surprise me when Jessica won the bidding at one hundred thousand dollars. By that stage, Roy had gone pale as he leaned against a wall.
I went to him. “Hey, well done, man.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it.”
“It’s a great work, Roy. All of your art’s great. This is only the beginning for you.”
“The money will help set me up. That’s for sure,” he said, almost in a dream state.
“You can have access to the VHC anytime.”
“Aidan, you would have to be the most generous guy on this planet. And what you’ve done at the Vets for everyone. You didn’t have to give me half of the money, you know. I mean, it should go to the center.”
When Clarissa came to join us, Roy nodded with a quivery smile.
“The center will earn fifty big ones from your work alone. Think about that, Roy,” I said with an encouraging nod. “Nothing motivates one more than a sale. It’s yours. You earned it. You’re talented. Embrace it.”
Taking Roy’s hand, Clarissa shook it. “Congratulations. It’s a startling piece. Truly. I loved the way you stacked the paint in the foreground, while the background is so finely produced. The contrast’s fabulous. That’s what makes it original.”
He nodded, his eyes warm and appreciative. “That was my intention. The blood thick and sculptural.”
Chris shuffled over. “Hey, man. Good result.” He hugged Roy. Something told me that Chris related to the broken former soldier in more ways than just his talent. I seriously hoped that Roy wouldn’t catch Chris’s bad habits, given they were close.
When we left them to it, I took Clarissa by the hand. We went to the restroom together. I needed a break from people.
“That was surprising,” I said.
“It didn’t surprise me. It’s an extraordinary piece. I’m only disappointed Jessica bought it.”
“I’m sorry that she made an appearance.” I exhaled a slow, frustrated breath.
“It’s not your fault, Aidan. This is a public event. I just get the feeling she bought it to show off. She’ll probably throw it in a cupboard somewhere, never to be seen, which saddens me. The subject’s heavy, and I probably couldn’t look at too often, but it still deserves to be hung somewhere.”
I nodded. “You’re right, beautiful girl.” I drew her close and held her. “Ah… that’s better, some Clarissa magic. I almost feel myself again.”
She pulled away and gazed at me with those big brown eyes that made me go to liquid each time. “Aren’t you enjoying this?”
I shrugged. “You know me, Clarissa. I’m happier at home on the sofa. With you naked.”
; She giggled. “Aidan, you’re incorrigible. I thought Tabitha and your father would’ve come. I invited them.”
I puffed my cheeks and blew slowly. “The Red House gig’s on tonight.”
“What about Sara? Is she still in the band?”
“No, she left. My dad knows lots of musicians. It’s a jam night, anyway.”
“I’m so sorry, Aidan. I liked Sara.”
“Yeah, she’s a good woman. She’s the only woman my father’s ever done the mileage with.”
“I feel responsible, Aidan.”
I brushed her cheek. “Hey, baby, you’re not. If it weren’t Tabitha, it would’ve been someone else. I spoke to my father the other day. He admitted he’d been depressed for a long time. He told me that meeting Tabitha had given him a new lease on life. I just wish Evan hadn’t been involved. That’s all. There’s something simmering there. It worries me.”
Alarm coated her eyes. “What? Do you think he’ll cause trouble?”
“I think he’d like to. But Evan’s business means more to him. I warned him not to go near Tabitha.”
“What was his response?”
I shrugged. “He agreed. But it felt like something in him was dying to erupt. I recognize the signs well enough.” I stared deeply into Clarissa’s eyes. “If someone took you away from me, I’d go nuts.”
Clarissa’s milky brow lowered. “Aidan, men don’t even register with me. They just blend in with the crowd.” She stroked my arm. Her eyes hooded. Mm… I needed to get her out of there quickly.
Her mood switched, and her face lit up. “Can we go to the Red House? I’d love to go.”
I lifted the bodice of her dress up in a lame attempt at covering her ballooning cleavage. “This is a bit low-cut for my liking. My cock loves it. But the trouble is I think other cocks love it too.”
She giggled girlishly, making my cock thicken. I imagined that pretty silk dress slithering down to her dainty feet.
“You know, Aidan, this has been an overwhelming success.” She hugged me. “You’re so clever for devising it.”
“Not clever, princess, just inspired by you.” I twisted a strand of her silky hair around my fingers. “Do you really want to go to the Red House?”