“You humiliated me. You were sending me teasing glances, and taunting me and then in front of Jonas, you harmed me,” Bradley spit out, and then his face relaxed and he reached out to grope a breast. Misty cringed, feeling dirty that he was touching her. She tried to think of Jonas, and reassure herself that he's find her, and everything would be okay. But the way Bradley was looking at her, she wasn't sure it would be okay.
“Why would you want a woman who doesn't want you?” Misty asked him, her brows coming up as she asked him, unable to keep her opinions to herself. She should have been more scared of him, but honestly, he was pathetic and she almost felt sorry for him.
“You want me, you just don't know it yet,” he told her and reached out to touch her. She turned her head away trying to avoid his touch. Angry he grabbed her chin hard enough to leave a bruise on her cheek and forced her to turn her head back to look at him. “If you want me to untie you, you have to be nice to me.”
“Where are we?” Misty asked him, changing the subject. She hoped he'd give her some clue to where they were so Jonas might have some chance of finding them.
“It doesn't matter where we are,” Bradley told her giving her a funny look. “You'll want to be with me once you've had time to think about it.”
“Bradley, have you ever considered that maybe you need to find a better hobby in life then trying to chase after married women?” She asked him sighing, pulling on the bonds and giving up when it was clear she couldn't pull her way free.
“You are a fine hobby for me to have,” Bradley told her and then patted her leg. “I'll give you time to think about this. I have to go say goodbye to my grandfather and Jonas. I'm sure they'll just think you ran away.”
“You're delusional,” Misty called after him and gritted her teeth. If she could have crossed her arms and pouted, she would have. She was angry. If she got free, she was going to beat that man within an inch of his life.
Bradley left and she lay there for hours, thinking of all the ways she wanted to hurt and torture him. Jonas was probably worried sick and Bradley was going to go back to the house and pretend like everything was fine. She was seething and working on getting her hands free from the rope. She didn't know when he was going to get back. After a while, she managed to get the ropes loose enough she was able to get one hand free. She was able to use her free hand to work on the knots on the other one and after a while managed to get completely free of everything.
Sitting up on the bed she looked around for a weapon. She didn't know what she needed, but she knew she wouldn't wait for Bradley to come back and try to stop her from leaving. She founded a metal pitcher used for water and grabbed it. It was heavy and she dumped the water out, holding the weight of it in her hand. She realized she'd be able to use this if she had too, right upside Bradley's head.
Opening the door, she looked out of the door and looked into the empty space of grass and trees. She walked outside and clutched the pitcher to her chest. She looked around for a moments and saw the outline of a house in the distance. Realizing after a moment in shock that she was still on Jonas's property, she began to walk barefoot to the house and cut her foot on a sharp rock. Wincing she didn't stop, but she limped the rest of the way back.
She saw Jonas as she neared the house yelling at Bradley. Marching up to him, she walked up right behind Bradley and hit him in shoulder with the pitcher she held in her hand. It felt good, and when he turned to look at her she lifted the pitcher again and waved it at him. She tried to keep from hitting him again, despite wanting to bean him in the chin with it.
“You... you....” She sputtered as she dropped the pitcher and burst into tears.
“Misty, you're okay?” Jonas asked her as he curled her up in his arms and hugged her close. Glaring at Bradley over Misty's head, Grandfather Elderwood came out to see what was going on.
“Oh good, you found her,” he said as he walked over to them and looked at Bradley glaring at Jonas. “What's going on?”
“This... idiot…” Jonas sputtered, staring at his cousin and looked like he wanted to hit him.
“Misty, why don't you tell me what happened?” He ignored Jonas and Bradley who started yelling at each other. Jonas let go of Misty and hit his cousin in the chin. They started grappling with each other and ended up rolling around in the dirt. As their grandfather and Misty just stood there watching the two of them.
“He had me tied to a bed, in a cabin on the back of the property. He started the fire to take me. Bradley hit me with something, my head actually still hurts.” Misty glared at the men fighting on the ground.
“Enough you two, get up now,” Grandpa said and bent down and grabbed the collar of both men. “Quit embarrassing yourselves. Get up.”
“Bradley, you go inside and wait for me. You are leaving with me and if you so much as twitch a muscle, you are completely cut off.” Their grandfather watched Bradley huff and walk into the house.
“You seriously are just going to let him get away with assaulting my wife? If she hadn't managed to get loose, what damage do you think he would have done to her? To us, to our family?” Jonas raged, looking completely irrational.
“Jonas, take a deep breath.” His grandfather put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him. “I'm sorry I brought Bradley here. I was hoping if he saw how you doing well and being happy, that maybe he'd decide to change his life. It's clear that there's something seriously wrong with him, and when I get him back home... let's just say he won't be free to hurt other women for long.”
“You promise you won't bring him back here, because if you do I will kill him if I ever see him again.” Jonas swore, he wasn't usually a violent man, but seeing Misty barefoot and her in pain had him enraged on her behalf.
“I will get him out of your hair as fast as I can, take care of your wife. I'm sorry he did this to you Misty.”
“It's okay, he made bad choices, you couldn't have known he'd do something so stupid.” Misty told him and watched as the old man looked defeated and turned away to go back towards the house to finish packing to leave.
“I was worried sick when I thought something had happened to you Misty, first the fire, then you were gone, I was sick to my stomach with worry.” Jonas told her and grabbed her by the shoulders searching her face. “He didn't touch you did he, because if he did anything else, I'll just kill him.”
“No, he didn't... I don't know what he would have done to me had I not gotten away, but he didn't actually do anything to me besides steal me away and hit me on the bed.” Misty told him and touched his face and pressed a kiss to his lips trying to reassure him that she was okay.
“I love you Misty, I'm so sorry I didn't protect you better.” Jonas said shaking his head. “I knew I didn't trust Bradley, but I never thought he'd do something like this. I am so sorry.”
“It's not your fault. You didn't know he'd do this.” Misty told him and gave him a half smile. “I love you too, but we'll get past this. They are leaving.”
“I know, but I didn't realize how much you meant to me until I thought something bad had happened to you. It shouldn't have happened like this. I shouldn't have let Bradley stay here after what he did by your bedroom, I should have done something,” Jonas said, feeling guilty.
“Jonas, listen to me right now. You cannot protect me from every evil in this world. I know you feel responsible because he's your cousin, but you can't blame yourself for not knowing that he would do this,” Misty told him and hugged him tight. “I love you, I promise I don't blame you, or resent you. Just hold me for a moment.”
“How can you bounce back from something like that and act like everything's okay, I'm sitting here feeling like my stomach fell to my feet and my heart is beating so fast I feel like it is going to fly out of my chest,” Jonas told her.
“And we are okay. I'm okay. You will be okay. Just kiss me until you feel less... extremely,” Misty told him and pressed kisses to his lips between words to try to calm him. She winced as she shifted weight on her
feet and realized she cut her foot on a rock and it hurt.
“What's wrong?” Jonas asked her, looking confused.
“My foot. I stepped on a sharp rock. I just need to clean it off and put a bandage on it. I'll be okay,” she told him and then gasped as he grabbed her and picked her up, sweeping her off her feet and carried her inside. “I can walk!”
“I know you can walk, but Misty, let me take care of you, that's what a husband is for, I want too. I know I seemed distant when you first got here, but the reality is I was scared to let you get close to me. I didn't want to get hurt. Loving you put me at risk, but I can see now that I already am in this for keeps,” Jonas said smiling and took her into his study to clean her foot.
“I think we are going to be okay Jonas, I do,” Misty said and let out a small chuckle. “Just fix my foot, and take me to bed.”
“I can do that,” Jonas told her. He got out his bottle of whiskey and cleaned her foot. He offered her a shot after to ease the sting of the cut. “It doesn't need stitches, I think you'll be okay.”
“Kiss me Jonas,” Misty told him after she choked down the shot of whiskey. He picked her up and put her on his desk, kissing her. They didn't leave the office for a while, but by the time they did, his grandfather and Bradley had left.
Jonas was unhappy about what had happened to Misty but it was over. He was going to focus on his family, focus on his relationship with Misty, and right now, focus on kissing her the way she was demanding.
Mail Order Soldier
A Seal Romance
This deliciously dirty story is a part of Susan Fleming’s super-charged, highly lewd collection of love and lust, written in 2015. Those who attempt to steal any part of this goldmine and take it as their own risk being a fiery, hot death from a hunk bearing copyright notices—and she’s not about to play with you.
This is a work of fiction—although we wish that people like this really existed, it’s nothing more than a figment of a very, very overactive imagination. Any resemblance to someone you know, a place you love or anything you hold dear to your heart is nothing more than a craving in your heart that these carnal desires and actions were true!
It goes without saying that this book oozes with erotic sex appeal, and is filled to the rafters with a smorgasbord of acts that you certainly wouldn’t tell your grandmother about. Bodice-ripping, panty-dropping and glasses-steaming, the scenes contained herein are wickedly naughty!
Although all the saucy characters are flirting with forbidden desires and sometimes taking the naughty fruit they really shouldn’t be, all are consenting adults over the age of 18 and not blood-related. What they are is passionate and eager to explore their carnal desires all day long.
In short, this book is going to get you very, very hot!
© Susan Fleming
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any many whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination. Please note that this work is intended only for adults age 18 and over. All characters represented are age 18 or over.
Table Of Contents
Chapter 1: Fatal Mistake
Chapter 2: Unmarked Body
Chapter 3: Take a Chance
Chapter 4: Date
Chapter 5: Maternity Clothes
Chapter 6: Sniper
Chapter 7: Administrative Problem
Chapter 8: Flawed, Impossible, Uncomfortable
Chapter 9: Repairing Stone
Chapter 10: Reality
Chapter 11: Tattoos and Scars
Chapter 12: The Truth
Chapter 13: Life Choice’s
Chapter 14: Leave
Chapter 15: Import/Export
Chapter 16: Wrap It Up
Chapter 1
Fatal Mistake
Harvey Wikilstein died in 2010, yet a man carrying his identity sat at a desk in the Navy recruiting office in Los Angeles in 2015. Harvey looked at a spot in the center of its dull plastic surface. He touched it with a shaking hand. The hand didn’t touch paper. It touched plastic. Both hands began to shake.
He saw his boss walking down the aisle. He waved his hand “Mr. Thomas, I was working on a folder today. I went to lunch and it’s gone. It was sitting in the middle of my desk. Do you know what happened to it.”
Mr. Thomas replied, “Harvey, do you feel alright? You’re a bit pale.”
“I’m fine. I just get frustrated when I start something and can’t finish it.”
“Don’t worry about that. We made the collection of out-of-date folders while you were gone. It will go to the station-of-origin and be put away and forgotten. It was out of date.
Harvey gathered himself together. “Alright. That’s good.” He paused. “Sir, I think I would like a little time off, if it’s all right.”
“Certainly, Harvey. Go home. Get some rest.”
Harvey drove two blocks away from the government office and pulled into a parking lot. He nervously called his other boss, the one who killed people.
“Sir? The folder was taken from me. I’d finished it and went to lunch. When I got back, it was gone. My boss here says it was taken to the office where it was created to be put in storage. I’m sorry. I never thought they’d take it from my desk.”
The voice on the other end sounded uninterested and unpleasant. It never changed timber or cadence. “We will take care of it. Our tracking device...”
“...which I suggested.”
“...yes, which you suggested, is telling us that it is headed toward the Los Angeles main office. It will go to Las Vegas when there’s a slow day. We already have an operative in that office. He’ll tell us when it leaves, and we can intercept it.” He covered the phone for a few seconds then came back. “Don’t worry Harvey. This wasn’t your fault. We have two operatives in the Los Angeles office. One in headquarters and another in the motor pool. We’ll get the folder back.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Go home. We’ll get back to you.”
Harvey never made it home. His car was forced off the road on Mulholland Drive.
Harvey’s underground boss, a swarthy man named Fahad Issa, told his second-in-command, “We’re going to go deeper into this mission than usual. We must retrieve that folder. Since it has so little obvious value to the stupid Americans, it will be sent from Los Angeles to Las Vegas on the slowest day of the month and by American agents with little value and in a disreputable car.”
Fahad laughed, a short, mean laugh. “These Americans, second only to Germans in their predictability. Always the proper administration. Always the method that requires the least thought. We will get our file back and kill the agents who will be delivering it.”
“Praise God.”
“Yes, praise God. We can have a little fun with this. Let’s find the weakest agents and put them together. This will work.” He smiled. “Habib, create two websites and two brochures. We’re getting into the romance game.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter 2
Unmarked Body
Delia Stackhouse grimaced as she looked at her bed. It was a comfortable bed with a lovely headboard. She had the bed made especially for her with extra length to accommodate her five foot ten inch body. The bedspread came from her mother who had quilted it by hand just for her. Pictures of her family in Sacramento stood on the nightstand. Every night she looked at them just before she turned out the lights.
She knew she wouldn’t go to sleep for hours after she turned out the lights. Lately, her emotions had run out-of-control when she didn’t have something to occupy them. She knew the problem. She demonstrated it every night by lying on her back and stretching her arms and legs to the side. Her fingertips and toes never touched another human being. Her bed was al
ways cold and empty.
Delia was willowy. She had curves; definite curves that broadcast to the men around her that she was desirable. Unfortunately, she worked for the Army, and military men tended not to want their wives to tower over them.
The phone rang. Delia answered it. Her best friend, Becky, said, “Delia, how are you?”
“Fine.”
“No, sweetheart. This is Becky. How are you?”
“Beck… I’m ready to die. I knew I’d have trouble getting used to being alone after Ted died, but it’s harder than I thought. I didn’t think I’d be a widow at twenty five. I’m so lonely.”
“Tell me about it.”
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