by Jan Springer
Oh my!
Santana moved his cock another aching delicious inch. The invasion of Sawyer’s fingers penetrating her ass and Santana’s hot, thick cock teasing her pussy made her shiver wantonly.
“Are you desperate, baby?” he asked.
“I want you, yes…please.”
She was eager. Burning. Wanted to be fucked. Her body hummed as Sawyer’s fingers left her ass one by one.
A moment later she heard the crinkle of a condom package followed by the slurp of lube and assumed he was greasing and preparing his cock for her. She inhaled as the thick, lubed head parted her cheeks and prodded at her opening.
At the same time Sawyer let go of her hands, freeing her. Immediately she grabbed Santana’s waist and held on tight, her fingers biting hard into his flesh as she tried to pull his cock deeper inside.
In response, he hissed, “Easy, Sexy. Easy, We’ll have you flying in no time.”
She barely heard him as Sawyer’s lubed cock slid into her in one quick, solid thrust. The thick penetration had her gasping.
She keened as Santana’s teasing finger suddenly slid back and forth across her clit until she neared the edge of a climax.
Chanting her name as he flexed her hips, Santana drove his cock into her.
Amy screamed as she hung onto the pleasure-pain their two impaling cocks created. Santana’s warm mouth clamped over hers in a wild possessiveness that had her eagerly kissing him back.
A whiplash of arousal scrambled through her as the two men began a steady, pounding rhythm. Santana’s mouth mated with hers. His tongue seduced and her mind whirled with thoughts of never wanting this experience to end.
Sawyer’s hands splayed over her waist as he plunged in and out of her. His thrusts were strong and burned a long, delicious line of fire deep into her anus.
As their thrusts increased, her pleasure soared. Carnal sensations swept quickly through her. Deep and penetrating, they had her gasping for breath. She shuddered as the pleasure rocked her. Agonizing contractions ripped through her pussy, echoing into her ass.
They released her as she’d never been released before and when her orgasm faded away, the two men came simultaneously.
* * * * *
The soft click of the bedroom door closing ripped Amy from the relaxed after haze of sex and made her heart crash against her chest at the thought of Santana leaving without saying goodbye.
“Santana?” she cried out. Her voice sounded like a pitiful squeal and she wished she’d just kept quiet and let him go.
“Right here, Sexy. I was just saying goodbye to Sawyer.”
He lifted the sheets, moved onto the bed and climbed in beside her. He was still nude and his body so hot as he gathered her into his arms. Thankfully he wasn’t going anywhere and she melted against him, knowing she had at least a little time left with him.
* * * * *
For a while they said nothing and Santana listened to the soft sounds of Amy’s breaths. Sometime during the night they’d brought her into the bedroom. They’d enjoyed fucking her many times, making her scream whenever she came. And boy had she screamed.
“So? How did you like Sawyer?” he finally asked, wanting to make sure she wasn’t regretting the fantasy the morning after.
She smiled up at him and her face flushed. “You were right about him. He’s the best.”
He feigned looking insulted. “He is, is he?”
“Definitely,” she chuckled then whispered softly. “But you’re the best of the best, big guy. Thank you for making my fantasy come true.”
He nuzzled his face into the top of her soft, messed-up red hair and loved that she didn’t show any signs of regret.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d make the call when I sent you the binder,” he admitted.
Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “You sent it? I thought my sister did.”
“You know about her working for KF?” Tangle had always told him she’d kept her family in the dark about her sexual adventures with the company.
“I bugged her about your identity and she finally confessed.”
Santana couldn’t help but laugh. “I bet you can be pretty persistent if you want something.”
“I am and I will be with you too. I want us to pursue our relationship, Santana.”
Shit. He wanted to too.
“That’s not possible, Sexy.”
He’d expected her to get upset. Instead she surprised him by smiling. But his stomach dropped when he noticed the determined gleam in her eye. She wouldn’t let him go without an explanation of why they couldn’t get together.
“Is it because you think I can’t handle what you do for a living? Or because you’re bisexual? I’m a liberated woman. I can handle it.”
Spoken like a true relationship innocent. Or maybe she was confident they could build something on their physical attraction and love could conquer all.
“I doubt I’d look at anyone else but you, Sexy. It’s true I enjoy pleasing women as well as men. It’s because of the relaxed attitude toward sex that KF encourages that I discovered I was bisexual. I don’t think it will be a problem. If I feel the need to be with a man, I can always bring in a third as we did tonight. I could see you truly enjoyed Sawyer. I’m sure we can work something out. I would quit KF to be with you.”
“Would you really quit?” He heard the hope in her voice. The hope for a relationship between them.
“Ever since meeting you, I pretty much have. The profits from KF are quite generous, so money wouldn’t be a problem,” he admitted. And how the hell could he have sex with another woman after experiencing these feelings for Amy?
Fuck! What was he thinking? He was supposed to leave her. There could be no future with her. He’d allowed himself to dream again. He needed to tell her the truth. Of why they couldn’t be together.
He kissed her lightly on the forehead and remained silent as he tried to figure out exactly how much he should tell her and then simply decided it would be best to blurt it out and hope to hell she understood.
“I killed my stepfather when I was sixteen.”
She stiffened at his confession and blinked at him in shock.
The fantasy was over. He should be walking away from her but he couldn’t. He needed to find a way to bring both of them into reality. Maybe she’d hate him when he told her what he’d done. Maybe she’d tell him to leave. A part of him hoped she would do just that. That she’d tell him to get out of her life before things went any further between them. A bigger part of him though, wanted her to love him no matter what.
“What…happened?”
Her innocent look, the hesitant question, took the breath clean out of his lungs. He felt as if he’d been sucker punched, despite the fact he expected that question.
Her shock faded and she smiled affectionately, reached out and stroked his cheek. Such a soft caress. The intimate touch of a lover who cared deeply. Her touch almost unraveled him.
Instead he kissed her warm temple. Then the tip of her nose. The lobe of her ear. He wanted to remember the sweet scent of her flesh. The softness of her skin. The sexy mouth that made him hard. But he was far from hard now as his past swooped in around him and threatened to kill the only relationship he’d ever allowed himself to want.
“There was a reason you did what you did, Santana. You wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not on purpose. I know you wouldn’t.” Her soft innocent voice was drawing him out. Pulling him into the cold darkness of the past he’d spent years burying.
“Does it have something to do with those faint scars on your back?”
In a second he heard the shouts. The fists crashing against flesh. The slap of a belt whipping through the air. Screams of pain. The panic. The warmth of blood on his hands.
He shivered against her and Amy continued to smile. That damned innocence and caring sparkled in her eyes. The need to protect her grew. But he could only protect her by telling her the truth. Then she would understand why they couldn’t be together.<
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“We never told anyone I was the one who killed him,” he found himself explaining. “He would have killed her if I hadn’t stopped him that night.”
Amy nuzzled closer to him, her smile fading, but the comfort of her warm flesh encouraged him to continue.
“At first my stepfather seemed as if he were a nice enough guy. My mother loved him and that’s all I cared about. He held down a good job. He was a carpenter by trade. Earned good money. Unfortunately he drank a lot and gambled too much. Over the years it got worse. That last time he’d gambled away the car and his paycheck. My mother knew we wouldn’t make the rent for this rundown little bungalow out in the country where we lived. She was a determined woman. She wanted the three of us to be a family. To have a nice house in the country…even if it didn’t belong to us. She had hopes that my stepfather would someday get better. She was also a strong woman. She never backed down to him even when she knew he’d beat her for talking back. That night I would have called 911 but we didn’t have a phone and the neighbors were too far away. Instincts told me she would die if I didn’t stop him. I just grabbed the closest thing and smashed it over his head. He went down like a piece of concrete and never moved again. We knew he was dead. When my mother threw the ax into the grave we’d dug beneath her flower garden that’s when I realized what I’d hit him with.”
Santana had expected Amy to recoil in horror. She didn’t. Instead he saw pure concern splashed across her face.
“What happened after that?”
“My mother refused to call the cops. You see, my stepfather was white. As far as she was concerned, a black kid killing a white man would get me life in prison no matter what the circumstances. I was scared shitless and I agreed with her. So we buried him and replanted the flowers.”
“No one came looking for him?”
“A few people asked. His gambling and drinking friends. My mother told them he’d come home drunk once too often and she’d kicked him out. She told them she had no idea where he’d gone. A month later we were evicted and we moved.”
“And you never worried someone might dig him up?”
“Sure, we worried. I think that’s what eventually killed her. The worrying, the guilt. Before she died, she made me promise again to tell no one. She didn’t want her only son to go to jail and die there as my biological father had. So I changed my name. Took on a new identity. Found a job in construction. Did that for many years. I was doing a job at the hospital where your sister Tangle works. We became friends and she hooked me up with the company. When we work for KF a certain number of years, we’re given the opportunity to buy into the company. I saved my money and took advantage of that option when the time came.”
“Geez, and here I thought I had a good thing going with my part ownership in the lingerie store. It looks as if you had more fun in your business,” Amy chuckled. At the sound of her easy laugh, all the tension he’d been harboring over telling her the truth eased and allowed more room for the love he felt for her to expand.
“Sometimes I feel the need to go to the cops. Tell them what happened,” he admitted.
“But you haven’t because you promised her.”
“And because I believe what she said. The justice system is too quick to throw black men into prison and throw away the key. Especially when one kills a white man. Despite that, I should at least have told them where to find my stepfather’s remains.”
“There are probably still open wounds for his family…and yourself.”
“I thought I’d buried the past,” he admitted.
“In a perfect justice system you would be able to walk. It wasn’t premeditated. It was self-defense for your mother. You were young. But unfortunately it’s not a perfect justice system. I dated a crooked cop. It opened my eyes as to how easily someone in authority can abuse that power,” Amy said.
Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as he’d thought.
She continued. “Okay, so maybe I’m paranoid because of that cop I dated but there are people in power who might use your confession to their advantage so they can put another notch on their career belt.” She hesitated and he could see she wanted to say something else.
“I can tell you have an idea. What do you suggest?”
“My sister Beth. She’s an investigative journalist. I think she can help us.”
* * * * *
Several weeks later…
“The forensic anthropologist said he died of a single blow to his head with the blunt end of an axe,” Amy’s sister Beth said over the speakerphone while Amy and Santana anxiously listened.
Over the past several weeks, Santana had told KF he would accept no more assignments and moved in with her. Endless meetings between Beth and Santana had ensued. He’d supplied her with the background information about his childhood with his stepfather and mother. About the many beatings his mother and he had received when his stepfather came home drunk. How his mother, a proud woman, refused to give up on her husband, claiming he would change some day and he’d explained what had happened that one fateful night when he’d picked up the axe to save his mother’s life.
Being a journalist, Beth protected Santana’s identity as she dealt with the authorities.
“The DNA found on the body’s clothing was identified as blood belonging to his wife,” Beth continued. “Upon examination of her exhumed body they discovered numerous previously broken bones in various stages of healing. It was the evidence they needed to verify she was physically abused and her life in potential danger. The murder weapon was found in the grave. The emergency room doctors I interviewed remembered her. She never confessed that he’d beat them.
“Police admit he had a long history of beating his wife and stepson. The police log records confirmed officers were called to the home. Unfortunately, charges were never laid. It seems Santana slipped through the cracks as Child Services was never called on his behalf.”
From beside her, she heard Santana exhale slowly. It would be hard for him to listen to this. To rehash his past.
“With all the evidence supplied by the specialists, the experts have declared it a case of self-defense. No charges will be laid. The case has been closed. Santana is free.”
“Fuck,” Santana whispered. Amy thanked Beth, disconnected the call and closed her eyes.
“It’s finally over,” she said.
“And for us it’s just the beginning. Lots of romance. Lots of love. I promise.”
When she opened her eyes again, Santana stood in front of her. The haunted look he’d been carrying since his admission to her that he’d killed his stepfather was gone. He kissed her full on the lips, sparking her entire body into a ball of sexual excitement.
“Oh I don’t know about that,” she teased. “When I asked for a Kidnap Fantasy, I wasn’t really looking for romance. Just lots of red-hot sex.”
“But I’m a romantic guy,” he feigned seriousness.
“Oh. Well, I guess I could put up with a little romance now and then.”
“Followed up by lots of red-hot sex of course,” he grinned.
“Without question.”
“And, Sexy?” Santana breathed heavily as they began kissing each other. Now that the past was behind him there was a new urgency between them. A frantic quickness that attributed to the fact they were starting their life together.
“Hmm?”
“Just to let you know that every time I make love to you I’ll be making sure that when you go black, you’ll never go back.”
And she never did.
About the Author
Jan Springer is the pseudonym for an award winning best selling author who writes erotic romance and romantic suspense at a secluded cabin nestled in the Haliburton Highlands, Ontario, Canada.
She has enjoyed careers in hairstyling and accounting, but her first love is always writing. Hobbies include kayaking, gardening, hiking, traveling, reading and writing.
Jan welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and e
mail address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Also by Jan Springer
Christmas Lovers
Ellora’s Cavemen: Legendary Tails II anthology
Heroes at Heart 1: A Hero’s Welcome
Heroes at Heart 2: A Hero Escapes
Heroes at Heart 3: A Hero Betrayed
Heroes at Heart 4: A Hero’s Kiss
Heroes at Heart: A Hero Needed
Holiday Heat anthology
Outlaw Lovers: Colter’s Revenge
Outlaw Lovers: Jude Outlaw
Outlaw Lovers: The Claiming
Peppermint Creek Inn
Sinderella
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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