by Nic Saint
“We better get out of here,” said Roland as he stared at her blood-splattered tits and grinned. “You look like a warrior queen, honey.”
She returned his gaze. “And you look like something out of a Quentin Tarantino movie.” He was dripping with blood from head to toe, and looked even more formidable than usual.
He reached for her, then, and pulled her in for a bloody kiss, and the taste of iron mingled with their saliva and she thought she’d never tasted anything more exhilarating. From scientist to queen of vengeance, she thought. Quite a transformation.
They quickly relieved two guards of their sidearm, and hauled ass, then, and ran down the corridor as fast as their legs could carry them, their bare feet pounding the cement and leaving a trail of bloody tracks in their wake. She had no idea where her father was, but if he was somewhere inside this compound, they would find him, and they would rescue him. No other option existed.
Chapter 36
Alarms were ringing as Roland raced through the compound, Alicia in tow. They were both stark naked, covered in blood, and looking like something out of a horror movie, and yet he didn’t care. They had minutes—seconds—to find Professor Sumner and get the hell out of here before the cavalry would be on their asses with a lot more firepower than they’d be able to negotiate.
He remembered from the briefing with Scott that three zones limited the living quarters for the ‘guest’ scientists: the lab, the sleeping halls and the recreation area. Ty had removed their microphones and ear pieces so they had no way of communicating with Scott, but they now set foot for the third and largest area, hoping luck would be on their side yet again.
Arriving at their destination, he unceremoniously pumped three shots into the lock, then applied his foot to the smoking door and shoved hard. It slammed open and they barged into a large room, tables and chairs forming islands, a bar placed at the far end.
A small group of men looked up in fear as they entered, and he immediately saw they’d hit pay dirt, for the professor was among them.
Alicia streaked over and took her father by the hand. He cowered in fear at the blood-spattered ghoul coming to take him away and raised his arm in defense.
“Dad, it’s me!” she cried, and he was touched to see the relief seep in the old man’s face.
“Alicia!” He then let his gaze drop to her blood-soaked body and gasped. “You’re hurt!”
“Not my blood,” she curtly explained, and dragged him to his feet.
“If you want to live, you’ll follow us,” Roland barked at the other scientists, and when none made the move to join them, he shrugged and followed Alicia and her father out the door. He’d do what he could to have this facility closed down, but knowing Harlan’s close ties to President Walker, he knew there was little chance his efforts would meet with success.
Racing along the corridors, they finally reached the elevator and as they stood hammering the call button, movement down the corridor had them look up.
Grim-faced, Roland watched as a regiment of guards came hurtling down the hallway in their direction. He quickly raised his gun and fired off a salvo and they ducked down for cover. At that moment, the elevator dinged and they quickly scrambled in, Roland firing off another round before the guards could return fire.
The doors closed and they nervously watched the cab climb floor after floor, Alicia supporting her father, who looked much the worse for wear.
Roland couldn’t help sneak looks at the woman who’d just busted out of this facility with him. Her blood-covered breasts gleamed in the harsh glare of the ceiling light, and her nipples were erect and hard. In spite of the circumstances, he felt his cock rise to attention and felt embarrassed for her father so he turned away from her.
She must have caught a glimpse of his erection, though, for she smirked at him, and wiggled her twin mounds of flesh for his sake.
He closed his eyes, his cock rising to its fully erect state in milliseconds. Fuck, he was hard as a rock, guards were closing in on them, and the love of his life’s father was gasping for breath. What the hell was wrong with him?
Then the elevator dinged again and the doors flashed open and they both swept up their weapons to meet the opposition that was sure to greet them with gunfire. Instead, his eyes met those of his brother Scott, armed to the teeth, his foot casually prodding a guard’s back as the man lay unconscious on the floor.
Scott’s eyes widened as he saw the state of his brother and Alicia.
“What the fuck… What did you do? Star in Texas Chain Saw Massacre? And where’s your clothes?”
“Long story,” croaked Roland as he and Alicia carried the professor between them.
Then Scott’s eyes fell on his brother’s erection. “So that’s your interpretation of the second amendment, huh? Nice touch. Talk about lock and load.”
“Shut up,” grunted Roland, and the four of them hauled ass to the van that Scott had conveniently parked nearby.
The night air felt cool against Alicia’s skin as they made their way over to the van, and she felt her heart sing in the knowledge they were going to make it. She just hoped her father would be all right. He looked so frail and thin, she thought HdM had a lot to answer for. Then her mind raced ahead to the prospect of her and Roland and the knowledge they had a future together rocked her world even more. He loved her, a little voice kept calling out inside. In spite of everything that had happened, all the horror and the terror, one thing stood out amongst the welter and that was the simple fact that Roland Thornton loved her.
She hopped into the van, helping her father into the backseat and gently laying him down so he could catch his breath. Then Roland slammed the sliding door shut and Scott roared the engine to life and they raced off into the desert, leaving HdM’s terrible outfit behind them by laying down rubber at a hundred miles an hour.
“There’s some clothes in the back,” Scott called out. “That is, if you want them, of course. You guys must be used to running around naked by now.”
“Shut up!” both Alicia and Roland cried out, and then laughed.
Roland reached back and found the bag of clothes and tossed her a pair of coveralls and grabbed some items for himself. Soon they were both dressed as workers, she in a halter top with the coveralls revealing far too much, and he in a simple plaid shirt and jeans.
She glared at him. “I think you gave me these on purpose,” she said, gesturing at her ample cleavage, still coloring dark red with blood.
He grinned. “That has to keep me until we get home, hon,” and gestured at her father on the other seat.
She eyed him lasciviously. “I bet if he wasn’t here you’d have jumped my bones already, huh?”
“You bet your sweet ass I would, honey. I would have jumped your bones on that elevator.”
“I believe you. The evidence was firmly in place.”
They both laughed at that, dispelling some of the tension that still rested in their bones.
She moved over to her father and lovingly caressed his wrinkled brow. Finally she had him back. And now nothing would separate them ever again. She looked over at the hulking male eyeing her with a loving glint in his eyes, and mouthed, “I love you.”
He grinned and nodded, then said, “I love you, Alicia.”
“What’s that?” Scott shouted from the front seat. “I didn’t hear you there, big guy! Was that a confession of love? Can’t be. Roland Thornton’s a known hard-ass, didn’t you know? Eats thugs for breakfast and doesn’t know the meaning of the word love!”
“Well, now he does, little brother,” Roland called back, settling himself against the seat. “Now he does.”
Chapter 37
They were back at the Thornton mansion, safely tucked away behind those thick walls that Roland had assured Alicia offered protection from anything that could hurt her. There was an old pact, he’d told her, between Thornton and de Montesquieu that their homes were sacred and whatever else the feud might drive them to do to one another,
they could never breach the respective dwellings of the families.
She luxuriated in a hot shower, washing away all the blood and the grime and the horrific events of the night. Soapy suds flowed down her smooth skin as she raised her face to the wide showerhead spreading heat and delight across her upturned face.
She’d told Roland she would be a minute, the big man now waiting for her in the bedroom. They had things to discuss, he’d seriously announced, and had showered in record time so he could be there when she returned.
But then she heard the door to the bathroom sneak open and she smiled. So he couldn’t wait, huh? “Come on in!” she called out. “The water is great!”
A shadow fell across the glass shower door, and when it was slid aside by a strong hand, she was relieved to find him standing before her, all broad chest and rippling muscle.
“Couldn’t wait,” he said a little sheepishly, and then his eyes turned lustful when they encountered her nakedness, and she smiled up at him, snaking her hands behind his neck and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He stepped inside and she felt her boobs press up against something hard and unyielding. Their kiss deepened, and she felt something even harder press against her belly, and their tongue meshed and stroked with an abandon she hadn’t felt since they’d made love on the plane—oh so long ago, it now seemed.
She leaned back against the powering jets, pummeling her buttocks and heaved one leg to wrap it around his buttocks, hooking him closer.
“I want to feel you inside of me, Roland Thornton,” she announced huskily, her eyes blinking against the thundering water falling on both their heads now.
He merely grunted, that animal noise deep in his throat, and she knew she was in for a treat. God, she loved this man, and knowing he loved her right back made her even hornier than she’d been the first few times they’d fucked.
As his hands freely roamed her body, kneading her flesh, squeezing her nipples, tracing down her waist to her hips and then grasping her buttocks and finally hoisting her up against him, both her legs clasped around his clenched butt. When he entered her, she cried out with exquisite pleasure. Slipping all the way inside, his length disappearing inside her slick vagina to the hilt, she was slammed up against the tiled wall as jets pummeled her body and his cock pummeled her lower belly, kissing her cervix each time he slammed his hard girth home.
“Oh, yes, Ro,” she sighed. “Fuck me—fuck me hard and deep.”
As he drove into her over and over again, she felt her cunt twitch and clamp down on his length, spasming around his pounding cock, milking him as he moved beyond her trembling lips and reached the inner depths, all the way to the sacred entrance to her womanhood, and when she exploded into a climax that lifted her up and slammed her down and seemed to linger as he pushed deeper inside her, she knew this was the first time they made love, not as man and woman but as a couple.
She was his woman now, and he her man, and when he groaned and released a torrent of hot cum straight into her womb, his balls straining to unload their charge into her heaving tender flesh, he whispered, “I love you, Alicia. God, I love you so fucking much.”
And even though he’d just released the charge of his scrotum and soaked her vaginal walls with his seed, he kept on sliding into her, his cock as hard as before, and then he stumbled out of the shower, carrying her easily, their connection unbroken, and strutted to the bedroom and slammed down on the bed as she rolled on top of him, his hardness still stirring deep inside.
She spread her legs wide, riding him fast and deep, and her wet hair was plastered across her face and covering her breasts, and they were both soaking wet and she didn’t give a damn and neither did he. His hands sneaked up her breasts, puckered and her flesh goosebumpy from the sudden shock of coolness in the room, and he fondled them lovingly, then reared up and took possession of them with his mouth, sucking in her nipples and supporting himself on his elbows as she relentlessly drove his cock deep inside her, her head slamming back on her shoulders as she felt him stir and move and touch the spot that needed to be touched.
“Alicia,” he moaned. “God, Alicia—you’re so gorgeous—so fucking gorgeous.”
“So are you,” she breathed as she watched the man mountain she was riding and felt his towering cock spear her shivering flesh, and then suddenly he swung her to the bed and he was inside her and on top of her, rolling away with all his might and still they couldn’t get enough.
“Make me a baby,” she sighed as she felt her clit swell and stir beneath her fingers, and then she reached further down and enclosed his balls and felt the heat there, and then they tightened and jerked up against his body and he barked an animal cry as he neared the point of no return, and as she gazed into his eyes, the deep love reflected therein, she arched her back and his hands grasped her tits and she cried out as orgasm took her once again and she felt her womb twitch and spasm in anticipation. His seed spurted inside her, stream after hot stream pumping inside her, straight from his body into hers, from his sizzling core to hers, and then they were one—one body, one mind, one soul, and when she thought she couldn’t be more happy and ecstatic, he breathed in her ear, “Do you want to marry me, Alicia—make me the happiest man in the world?”
She gazed into his dark eyes, warm and tender as only he could be, and traced her finger along his lips and said, “Yes, Roland. I do.”
And they sealed their newly formed bond—that was as old as time and as fresh as a breath of air—by a loving kiss.
THE END
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JACKSON
A Thornton Family Novel - Book 3
Nic Saint
Chapter 1
Chloe experienced the cooling breeze wafting her copper strands back from her alabaster brow and closed her eyes. It had been a long time since she had been able to relax. Gripping the ship’s railing a little tighter, she thought back to the months of distress, and wished she could be anywhere but here.
A scandal had rocked her world, and it seemed she couldn’t escape it even here, on the Frontier Monarch, a cruise ship sailing along the Alaskan coastline.
The man kept staring at her, and she simply knew he was dying to pop the question. Aren’t you Chloe Thornton? That girl who slept with her own brother? The billionaire slut, scion of one of the biggest fortunes in America?
She’d seen it on his face. The question mark. The recognition. The lust for sordid details of the affair that destroyed her life and blown everything she’d ever known and held sacred to smithereens with one salacious article.
He was tall, the man. Tall and bearded with wild, curly hair descending to his shoulders. She thought he might be a fisherman, from the looks of him, but she doubted it. Fishermen didn’t book tickets on expensive cruise liners.
She turned her head away and tried to relax. Roland, her big brother, had personally booked her this sojourn. Two weeks until the story broke that would set the record straight. That would prove once and for all that Chloe wasn’t an incestuous heartbreaker.
It had, after all, only been a harmless kiss, that summer day in Central Park. Yes, she’d had a teenage crush on Roland. And yes, she had kissed him, but that was as far as matters had progressed. As far as Roland, in all his wisdom, had allowed things to progress. He’d ever so gently explained to her that all they were ever going to be was brother and sister, and that he loved her.
Confusion had addled her brain for that horrible summer after discovering she’d been adopted, but she’d quickly passed beyond it, and life had been good. She’d grown into a fiercely independent young woman in the eight years since, and if the article hadn’t published that snapshot of her and Roland in a tight embrace, life would have become even better very soon.
She’d been engaged when the story broke, and working as an interim in one of her father’s companies, learning the ropes and rising to the top from the bottom up, as was Jack Thornton’s wish for each of his children.
Her passion was interior design, and her dream project the design of the megastores the Thornton brand was rightly famous for, most prominent among them the Fifth Avenue Flagship Store where she had taken her first tentative steps as designer.
Her colleagues loved her, and life had been grand and the future bright.
And then, before she’d even been able to spread her wings, her world had come crashing down around her. Harlan de Montesquieu, the family’s business competitor and according to some no better than a common crook, had managed to get a hold of ‘that picture’ and her life was over.
Her engagement had been terminated, her fiancé acquiring a sudden case of cold feet about the girl he’d professed to love and cherish, and most of her so-called friends had dropped her like a hot brick, not even returning her phone calls. And then she’d even been let go from the store, management insisting with her father the atmosphere at work was much too toxic for her.
They’d been right. She couldn’t cope showing up for work every day with all the stares and the gossip and the awkward silences. She could have endured, but felt it better for the sake of the store not to return.
She’d effectively become a social pariah in the space of a couple of days.
And now she was on a ship, and she realized with a surge of panic that if anyone recognized her here, there was no means of escape. Nowhere to go except…