The American Soldier Collection 3: Amazing Grace (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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“I’m not as accepting to this. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised that you’re so accepting.” He followed Sarah upstairs.
“I want Grace happy and to feel loved. If Sandman and his two brothers bring her that love and can do that for her, then God bless them.”
* * * *
It was after midnight and Grace couldn’t sleep. She entered Sandman’s office and turned on his laptop computer. She was hoping to take a look at the poems from the killer and had tried unsuccessfully to open the e-mail. After a while longer she sifted through the papers in his desk as her eyes lingered toward the locked drawer. She looked for a key but was unsuccessful as she grabbed the letter opener from the desk drawer. She knew she shouldn’t break into the drawer and that it was a desperate move.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” she whispered to herself as she wiggled the letter opener around inside the lock hoping it would work. As she broke the letter opener and the lock simultaneously, she opened the drawer and was surprised at what she discovered.
“You printed them out, of course you did so that you could really look at them and analyze them.” She began to read the poems.
They were upsetting but she wanted to continue and she looked at them as a challenge.
When she came to the latest poem her heart ached.
My dearest Grace, a gift for thee,
I could have killed her so easily.
My God, he didn’t kill her because of me and he’s looking at it as if it’s a gift. Something so precious one might give to a lover, a special partner. There was nothing more sacred or more meaningful than life, one’s soul and spirit. Grace continued to read.
She’s not like you, none of them come close,
You’re the one I want, need, desire the most.
I will continue to pursue my hobby, my pleasure,
Until your safe return home, my love, my treasure.
He was threatening her, challenging her to confront him, come home out of hiding. He knew what kind of person she was and that was exactly what she would want to do. She didn’t want to show her fear or allow him to dominate her. The killer knew her and he knew her fairly well. He would have to know that she would analyze his poems, his words in attempt to try and figure out his identity.
“My love, my treasure,” he called her in his poem. She hadn’t been intimate with anyone. Sandman and his brothers were her only lovers, and there was no one she could think of that knew her and her family well enough to know everything about her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sandman said.
She screamed and nearly jumped out of the chair. “Damn it, you scared the hell out of me. Why did you do that?” she yelled at him as he took the papers out of her hand and eyed the broken lock on the desk drawer.
“Breaking and entering, huh? You know what I should do to you?” he scolded her as he turned her chair around to face him.
“I have a right to look at those poems, Sandman, and stopping me from looking at them is a crime of its own.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“Look what you did to my desk, Grace. There was no need to sneak around in the middle of the night either,” he told her as he looked her in the eye.
“I wanted to see them, Sandman, and you denied me that right,” she began to say as he pulled her out of the chair and into his arms.
“I know that, Grace, that’s why I didn’t immediately follow you downstairs. I knew you wouldn’t be able to leave it alone as I asked. You should receive some form of punishment though,” he told her as she smiled and leaned closer.
“What exactly did you have in mind?” she asked him as he held her tighter.
“Well I’m a firm believer in capital punishment, but that seems a bit too extreme for such a minimal crime. However, I also believe in corporal punishment which might make you think twice before committing such a crime in the future.” He began to place her over his knee.
“You wouldn’t dare!” she yelled at him as she wiggled her way to the floor and Sandman quickly followed.
He was on top of her now, gently holding her arms above her head.
“You’re so tough, I know you can handle it.” He kissed her neck, making kissy noises into it and causing Grace to laugh hysterically.
“Stop it. Stop it. I’m too ticklish.” She could barely get the words out as Big Jay and Duke entered the room wearing only their boxers. She looked toward them until Sandman covered her lips with his.
He moved his legs between hers, pushing up the light cotton nightie she had worn to bed.
Grace wrapped her legs around Sandman’s waist and placed her arms around his neck as he removed his boxer shorts.
Instantly he was inside of her, making love to her as he once again held her arms above her head.
“If this is what punishment is like, I may just have to become a repeat offender,” she said as she giggled.
“What did she do?” Duke asked.
“Look at my desk,” Sandman said through clenched teeth as he stroked her pussy, thrusting his hips until she screamed his name. He followed suit, exploding inside of her.
“You did this?” Duke asked.
Her lips were parted as she tried to calm her breathing.
“So what?” she asked as Sandman pulled out of her then stood up. He reached his hand out, pulling her into his arms. Placing his hand over her ass, he cupped her one cheek.
“I don’t think she’s learned her lesson.”
Grace looked at Duke and Big Jay who had removed their boxers.
“Maybe we can help her learn her lesson.”
Sandman released Grace to Big Jay who sat on the chair and placed her on his lap. She immediately took his cock into her and attacked his mouth, kissing, moaning, then thrusting.
Sandman laughed.
“Somehow I think we’ve released a monster.”
Grace was fully aroused as she thrust up and down Jay’s cock. She was riding him, completely turned on by getting caught in her so-called illegal activity by Sandman.
He was such an enforcer.
Jay grabbed her hips and thrust upward as she thrust down.
“You feel so good, baby, and you’re very wet. I think you like being naughty.”
“Yes, oh God, I love having you inside of me,” she admitted. Then she felt the hand to her shoulder, and Duke pressed her back down so that her chest was snug to Jay’s. He immediately swiped his fingers from her pussy to her anus.
“I don’t know why Sandman didn’t spank this ass. I bet that would teach you about breaking and entering, vandalism, and engaging in criminal activities.”
He pinched her ass and she squealed, feeling her cum drip between her legs. Jay leaned back and she thought they might tumble over but they didn’t. Instead, the move caused her ass to lift up giving Duke better access to her ass.
She felt his finger press between the tight bud.
“Oh please, Duke. Please do something.” She thrust upward and Jay sucked on her breast, pulling the nipple deeper into his mouth.
“Oh.” She moaned as another small eruption hit her pussy just as Duke’s cock pressed through the tight rings of her ass.
“Fuck!” Duke yelled then slapped her ass as he thrust into her all the way.
She grabbed onto Jay’s shoulders and neck. Her breasts were pressed hard against his face, nearly smothering him, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. As she moved up and down along with him, Duke pulled out then shoved back in. She was moving along with them, feeling the fire and excitement as her men filled her with cock.
“Oh God, I can’t take it.”
She moaned as she lost all ability to hold on as her body tightened then released.
“So good,” Jay said through clenched teeth, and then nipped her nipple as he exploded inside of her.
She was trying to catch her breath as Duke grabbed her hips tight and thrust into her, stroking her ass hard and fast. He was pounding into her,
causing Jay to moan along with her until Duke hollered as he came. He remained still and deep in her ass, breathing heavy against her neck, kissing and nibbling along her skin.
“Incredible,” he whispered.
“Amazing,” Jay said then cupped her cheeks as Duke slowly pulled from her.
“In a heap of trouble,” Sandman added, and she hugged Jay’s neck, not caring about anything but being lost in their arms.
Chapter 16
Camera crews and reporters were swarming around the outside of the Houston Police Department. They were waiting for a statement from the FBI or from the police department but neither was happening.
“This is insane, Captain. I’m telling you why I’ve been trying to find the lieutenant. He’s like family and I’m worried about his safety, sir. All I want to do is find him and bring him in for questioning, so we can settle this matter. He is not the killer,” Frank stated as he looked at Agent Lancaster, wanting to wring his neck.
“I understand that, Detective, but this is not your case. The agents have taken it over and will tell us when we’re needed,” the captain began to say as Agent Lancaster interrupted.
“I don’t want him anywhere near this case, Captain. He could know right now where Donald Friedman is and is withholding that information.”
“What the hell are you…” Frank began to say as he rose from his chair. So did Agent Lancaster.
The captain immediately wedged himself between the two men before they made contact.
“Frank, just calm down and take a seat. Agent Lancaster, I suggest you do the same. You two have been at each other’s throats constantly. This is an intense situation, gentleman, and we need to be professional,” stated the captain as neither man took a seat as asked.
“This guy’s a fucking idiot. Now he’s accusing me of withholding information. Give me a break, you’re so wrapped up in trying to play hero and movie star to the reporters, you’re chasing the wrong guy.” Frank raised his voice as Agent Lancaster moved toward the door.
“Screw you, Frank, and I better not see you anywhere near this case or I’ll have you locked up,” Lancaster threatened him, before he left the room.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Frank? You can’t go around pissing off the FBI. Now tell me what you think you were doing at Donald’s house early this morning?” asked the captain.
“Fuck the FBI. All he’s doing is screwing up this case and wasting time. I think Donald’s in trouble, Captain. You know him as well as I do and there’s no way he’s guilty. I truly feel that the evidence at his house was planted by the real killer,” Frank said, and the captain leaned against the front of his desk.
“You have no proof of this, Frank. I know how close you were to Donald but the evidence is stacked against him. Could you possibly be wrong? I know it’s hard to believe. Shit even I’m still trying to accept this and our hands are tied behind our backs. This case belongs to the FBI, Frank, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Stay away from Donald’s house.”
Frank was mad as hell. “So you think Donald could be the killer and you’re telling me to stop trying to help clear my friend’s name or find him?” Frank asked as he stood up from his chair.
The captain stood next to him and was just as angry as Frank was.
“I’m not going to follow you around, Frank. I can only be aware of what you are doing when you’re in my presence,” he told him.
“So I’m on my own? You don’t know anything?” Frank asked with a smile.
“You’re not on your own, Frank. If something comes up where you need my help, you just call me and I’ll be there. I don’t think Donald’s the killer either,” he said as he walked around his desk. Donald and the captain went way back and Frank knew they were close friends. They were a few years apart, grew up together and even went to the same schools. The captain would do what he could.
Frank knew the captain supported his efforts, and Frank knew the captain had a game to play.
He said thank you then left the office prepared to continue his solo and unofficial investigation.
* * * *
The killer sat in his house, miles away from everyone on acres of property where screams could echo across the deserted land and not be heard. It was an ideal place to act out his fantasies, take his time, enjoy and savor every moment of pleasure.
The struggling he heard from behind disturbed his thoughts and he turned to admire his latest project. She was beautiful, young, and so naive. He was proud at the way he enticed her to take a ride with him. She knew him and he was so kind and funny. He laughed at his ability to deceive and to manipulate to get whatever he wanted.
He sifted through his pile of toys thinking about his Grace, knowing that his plan was coming along well and that she would come home to him soon.
He wrapped the rope around his knuckles smiling as he turned toward his latest victim.
“We’re going to have some fun, my little darling, but first there are some rules,” he told her as he jumped on top of her where she lay on the mattress that leaned against the basement wall. In a flash, he turned the rope into a noose and placed it around her neck.
He spoke to her, breathing erratically, becoming more excited with each thought that entered his mind.
His victim lay helpless, eyes red and bruised from her attempt to fight off her attacker. She was having trouble breathing as the killer took the noose and attached it to a solid metal clip on the wall that held her in place like some wild animal.
Initially, he thought about playing with her then letting her go. Knowing that she survived and would live with the terror of the acts he performed on her aroused him somehow. She could identify him now. She knew the serial killer and no one had a clue who he was, except her.
* * * *
She was so stupid to get into this guy’s car and take the ride he offered, but she missed the bus somehow, and if she were late getting to work again her boss would fire her. She tried to call her boyfriend, leaving him voice mail message after voice mail message, but he never called. She would die now because of her inability to be on time, fend for herself, and be responsible.
Now here she lay on a mattress on a cold, damp basement floor and no one was looking for her. Her boss would be pissed off and just assume she was a no-show and her boyfriend would eventually answer his voice mail and assume she was mad at him again. It was inevitable. Today would be the day she died.
“Grace, my love, are you ready to play?” he asked Michelle as she stared at him wide-eyed, scared, and trembling. She had nowhere to run. The noose around her neck was tight and with each small turn of her head, she hit the concrete wall. The killer began to touch her and cut her clothes off. She screamed, begging him to stop. She began to kick and punch him, fighting like an animal, choking and gasping for air with each thrust forward. She was scratching his arms and hitting his face but it wasn’t enough and he immediately retaliated with much more force and momentum as his fists collided with her face, her body sending her into darkness then light, darkness then light. She was losing it as she tried to fight him off. He was pounding on her, out of control, his eyes bulging. He was a madman, an absolute madman.
Her vision blurred. She was losing strength, struggling to hold on. Right before she passed out, he kissed her softly, gently, so easily he turned his anger to tenderness like turning a switch on then off. “Grace, sweet, beautiful Grace, let us begin, my love,” he whispered to her as darkness fell upon her.
* * * *
“Grace, the answer is no. It’s absolutely out of the question so just don’t ask again,” Sandman stated firmly, and when she looked toward Jay and Duke, she knew the question was nonnegotiable.
Sandman stared at the bags. They were packed as if she were about to go home.
“You can’t force me to stay here. I want to go home and I want you to call the bureau and have them formulate a plan to capture the real killer. I don’t mind being bait. Really, Sandman,” Grace said as she s
tood by the bed.
He grabbed her by her arms. “I’m not going to do it and you are not going anywhere. What the hell are you thinking, Grace? I can’t protect you at home like I can protect you here. My brothers and I will not hand you over to the lions,” he told her as she stood in front of him angry and frustrated.
“What if I don’t want your protection, Sandman? I can ask to be left alone.”
“Then you’ll die at the hands of that madman. Is that what you want?”
“You saw some of those crime scene pictures, is that how you want to die?” Duke asked as he took position beside her. “Being tortured, raped, beaten to a pulp? He wants you. He has sick sexual plans for you, the unthinkable, Grace.”
“Is that how you want to die?” Sandman yelled, squeezing her arms and she began to cry.
Grace was frustrated, angry, and she felt so out of control. All she wanted to do was stop this killer and she’d thought about it all night. She would go back home and that was final, she was saying to herself as Sandman pulled her close to him.
“I love you, Grace, and I won’t let you do this because I love you.” Her heart leaped and then ached again, having a tug-of-war between happiness and safety with Sandman, Duke, and Jay or sacrificing herself for the slightest possibility of catching the killer.
“Guys, why are you stopping me from leaving when I can help? Is your plan to make me choose? It would be so easy to just stay here, safe with you, making love to you, feeling protected by you, but at home my family is suffering, the public is outraged, your fellow agents are questioning Donald. There’s so much chaos and I feel I can stop it all or at least try. Can’t you understand that?” She looked at Sandman, Duke, then Jay, hoping that maybe one of them would agree.
“You can’t do it, Grace. There’s more to this than just being bait. You can’t handle it,” he told her straight out which made her feel weak and defeated but only for a moment as she allowed her will, her determination, and the hidden strength to emerge.