Digging my nails into his back, I tried to give him whatever answer he was talking about without using words. Apparently, this wasn’t good enough for him, because he pulled out until just his tip was left inside me and stopped moving. My eyes snapped open and I took in the stubborn set of his mouth and the look on his face that let me know that he wanted actual words.
“What do you mean?” I used my legs to try and pull him back into me. He had to take pity on me – who in their right minds could think at a time like this?
“When I told you that I loved you,” he sounded almost hurt that it wasn’t at the front of my mind. “I was serious.”
A devious plan hit me, and I struggled not to grin as I put my feet flat on the bed, ready to lift my pelvis. “I know,” I whispered as I lifted my hand to touch the scruff on his jaw. He normally looked so young, so the stubble stood out by a mile and gave him a sort of rawr that added to his sex appeal. He was starting to push back in, but I tightened the muscles in my pussy to keep him in place and also drive him slightly crazy as payback. His moan and shaking arms were very satisfying. Then, I played my trump card. “I love you too!”
I’d intended on using my feet as leverage to thrust up after I’d said it, but he beat me to it and slammed down into me, taking my breath as his pelvis hit mine.
It’s true. I wasn’t sure when things had changed and when I’d decided that I could have someone - specifically Tom - in my life in that way and also study for what I wanted, but he’d changed my plans. I just hoped that he felt the same way.
“You’re mine,” he rasped as he plunged into me again. “Only mine.”
I didn’t see it coming, but when I found my body being flung around so that I was on top of him, I screamed and tightened my leg and Kegel muscles around him, holding on for dear life.
“What the hell are you doing?” I kept the muscles locked as hard as I could in case he touched upon the insanity and flung us around again.
“You want to come?” He asked as he ground up into me through the tightness. He grinned as I nodded my head at his stupid question, slapped me gently on the outside of my thigh and gave me one of the orders that I was starting to tolerate because they always led to incredible orgasms. “Then start moving, pretty girl.”
I wasn’t a fan of terms of endearment or sweet sentiments, they always sounded a bit stale, but fuck if him calling me that didn’t make me wetter at that moment.
I had a slight issue though. “I don’t know what to do.”
The flare and heat in his eyes showed that he loved this and that he would be teaching me something else to do with sex – that this was just ours.
Tightening his hands around my hips, he started to lift me off of his cock and then slowly pulled me back down the way. I almost swallowed my tongue on the way back down, if that was even physically possible. The next lift up the way I took control of, and on the way down I tightened my muscles around him again.
“Oh, Sweet Home Alabama that feels…” he gulped, “you feel like heaven.”
I only got another five lifts in, because on the last one, he suddenly pulled out of me and flipped me around so that I was on my hands and knees.
“Stop doing tha…” I didn’t get to finish it because he was slamming back into me and I had to use all of my cognitive functions and strength to stop from falling flat on my face. Bracing my hands on the headboard so that I could push back, I croaked, “Forget that, I’ve changed my mind.”
His chuckle might have been out of place with the fact that he was powering hard into me, but not with us. The ease that we had together was something I never knew was possible and I’d never been happier in my life.
Instead of a smack to the ass to pull me out of my head this time, he plunged forward and leaned over me so that his mouth was right beside me ear.
“Whatever you’re thinking about has you pulsing around my dick,” he breathed, making me do it again. “Wanna share?”
Before now, the answer would have been a fuck no. I didn’t do sharing or making myself vulnerable by revealing my feelings. Today though, we’d come so far together and I wanted him to know it all.
Turning my head so that our lips were just skimming, I looked into his beautiful turquoise eyes and handed him my heart. “I love what we have. I love how we are together. And I love that I can give you me and know that you appreciate it, and won’t abuse it or break my heart.”
I didn’t realize that I’d started crying until his eyes moved down to where the tear was on my cheek, before he moved in to kiss it away.
“I swear here and now that you are everything to me. Every last piece of me is yours, so please look after it and I’ll look after your pieces too.” He looked and sounded more serious than I’d ever heard him be, and I felt the frayed edges inside me smooth over. His final whispered words made me love him more than I’d thought possible. “You are a treasure, a diamond that was created like a miracle of nature. It’s not a cheesy line that I’m just saying for the sake of it - it’s the truth. You’re my rare diamond, pretty girl.”
I cried out this time because he punctuated it with a hard thrust as he kissed me with enough force to steal my breath. Suddenly pulling back, he balanced on his knees and continued with a series of forceful lunges in, grinding periodically and driving me out of my mind.
I desperately wanted to come, it was so close but so far. Tom’s hand wrapping around one of mine and pulling it away from the headboard almost made the orgasm hit without any assistance, but he had better plans for me.
Running our hands down my belly, our knuckles just skimming my skin making my nerves hyperaware. Just as we reached my core and the hard needy nub there, he hooked his pointer finger underneath mine and moved them to my clit. It was my finger that made contact with it, but his finger that provided the pressure as it manipulated mine on top of the bundle of nerves. His grinds and jabs into me, the stroking of my clit, the emotions, they all joined together, and I exploded - or maybe I imploded? Regardless, I shattered under him, a hoarse cry coming out of me as my pussy spasmed around his beautiful cock that was capable of complete sexual sorcery and mastery.
I was still coming when I heard him shout out and felt his release inside me. With every pulse, my body answered. If anyone thought that they could put words to what I was feeling and what was happening to my body at that moment, then they were welcome to try. The answer was that there could never be any way to describe it.
Collapsing down onto the bed still joined, I struggled to breathe as the pillow hugged my face. Adding my studies into my life and having a relationship with Tom would be possible. My priorities were shifting to him being the most important aspect now.
Tom Townsend had won, and I was fucking over the moon about it.
Tom
It might have seemed immature and stupid to have held off having a relationship since the incident with Susy Baker, but I could see it for what it was.
Everyone has fun. Some wait for their one to have sex, some hold a part of themselves back giving only what they want to.
Me? I’d been the latter. The only person who would ever get all of me was Sonya - she was the one person in the world who was made just for me and vice versa.
I loved what we had, but I wanted more. I wanted all of it and I was going to get it.
Chapter 9
Sonya
T here had been another meeting called for the men of the Townsend family, so Layla and I were sitting on her sofa watching a movie. Layla was a scary movie addict, so I was hiding behind a cushion with my knees touching my nose, listening to the heavy breathing and foreboding music.
“Fucks sake, this is so cliché,” she muttered with a mouthful of popcorn. “I mean, the music has changed and it’s dark out, so why wouldn’t you go running off into the middle of fucking nowhere?”
“My point exactly,” I whimpered. Maybe if it was that shit she’d turn it off?
“Oh, fucking great, now she’s lost her top
so she’s running in the dark with freaky assed music and her tits are bouncing in a bra that’s at least a cup size too small!”
Peaking over the edge of the cushion, I giggled at what was happening on the screen until a guy with a mask jumped out with a machete in his hand.
I was about to ask if she could please switch it off so that I could sleep tonight, when the window beside us exploded with bodies dressed in black coming through it.
We never had a chance to run, or even press the big red button on Layla’s wall right beside us. The closest we got was jumping up with our mouths open, but a fist to the side of my head was like turning a light off. One flick of the switch and it was all pitch black.
Tom
“We’ll make it quick,” Coleman informed us as he went through the briefing and update. “There was a hit on the prints in AFIS.”
This information was met with a lot of noise. We all wanted justice for the shit that this bastard had caused us, and we wanted it now.
“Who?” Gramps was involved in this meeting, and he was pissed. Apparently, he’d been told about the package a couple of days previously and had picked up a leather studded paddle and a long set of anal beads, declaring that he’d ‘watched a shit ton of those martial art movies and would kill the bastard with only a fly swat and a shoulder massager’. That mental image would last in all of our minds for the rest of our lives.
“Fucking sit down,” Coleman barked, all of us realizing too late how pissed he was. “The prints matched a dead convict. The man was a well-known trafficker.”
We all must have had the same confused expressions on our faces, because he threw his head back and let out a muffled shout.
“Trafficker?” Cole asked what we were all wondering. Now, even with an IQ that was Mensa worthy, trafficking could mean anything. There was also the question of terminology and its progression in our vocabulary. Gay used to mean happy, sick used to literally mean sick – vocabulary changed all the time.
“Humans, guns and drugs,” Coleman hissed out through visibly gritted teeth.
“Holy shit.”
“Damn, that’s sick!”
“What does a trafficker have to do with us?”
Coleman leaned his head against the wall behind him, waiting until we’d gotten it out of our system.
“That’s what we didn’t understand, and what we still don’t understand,” he sighed. “In addition to that, records show that the guy has been dead for a couple of months. So, how did this take so long to get here if he sent it?”
None of us knew what the answer to that was.
“Logically, there could be many reasons. He gave instructions to someone just in case? It got misplaced?” Ren offered.
Plausible, but it didn’t sound right. Bombs are fragile and if you went to the extent of making a bomb specifically for someone, you want for it to reach its destination and target - so you’d make sure that it did. If you were involved in something like trafficking and explosives, then you had ways of escape too.
The answer suddenly became clear. “He’s not fucking dead!” I whispered, a chill going up my back. My stomach dropped into my colon, and a really bad feeling came over me. “Dad, do you have that list of people that Coleman asked you for?” I ran over to my bag and pulled out the laptop that I’d started carrying with me everywhere again.
“Yeah, here it is.” He handed me a slip of paper with eight names on it.
Running a search on all of their names took time, but I was determined and skimmed through the information as it came up.
“Um, I hate to tell you this at this exact moment,” Gramps stuttered behind me, and I gave him a cursory glance over my shoulder before turning back to the screen. “Well, ya see, uh…fuck this is hard.” He sounded like he wanted to be anywhere else, but where he was at that moment. “Yourcousinsarecoming.”
All of us stopped what we were doing at the same time and silence took over the room. Had he said…? No, no. He couldn’t have said that.
“Did you say what I think you said?” Brett asked sounding horrified.
Please let the answer be no, please let it be no.
“That depends on what you think I said, because it might not be as bad as you think I said what you think I said.” Gramps had been trying this shit for years to get out of trouble, and that’s how you knew he was in deep shit. He would confuse you by making no fucking sense at all, hoping that you’d go away trying to figure out what he’d said. By the time that you had, he was in hiding – the chicken shit.
“Did you say that our cousins are coming?”
“Uh…maybe. Quite possibly!”
“Which ones?” Dad asked gruffly.
“Jer’s,” Gramps replied giving the name of the one brother of dad’s whose kids made us all look stable.
Spinning in my chair, I listened as the searches ran behind me. This was huge – they were so unstable that even an earthquake was safer than being around them. Unfortunately, they also dealt with the field running of our oil company. We did the office work, they did the physical work. It was a miracle and a blessing that the company hadn’t exploded – well, at least it hadn’t yet. There was always time. They also tended to think later and act now.
Rubbing my hands down my face, the fact that this was a clusterfuck of epic proportions hit me.
“Which cousins?” I hated asking, but I had to know. Out of the five of them, three were the definition of nuts. It’s one thing to ride the little yellow bus, it’s another to be the one’s licking the windows – and I had it on good information that their bus windows were always squeaky clean.
“Noah,” Gramps started with the second eldest, and all of us dropped our heads back in exasperation. “Archer.”
“Ah fuck it,” Brett huffed as he hit his head on the wall.
“And?” I prompted. There were three more crazy sacks to choose from, and I needed to know, although Gramps reluctance to offer up the last name made it more than obvious that the worst one of the bunch was coming.
“…ate,” he mumbled.
“Did you say Tate?” Ren clarified sounding as horrified as we all felt. He was the youngest Townsend in that family and the one that had been the Tasmanian Devil since he shot out of my aunt’s womb.
Shrugging Gramps went back to studying the wall, which was blank. I looked around for his leather paddle/fly killer – I was going to…
The thudding of multiple heads filled the room, a majority were my family’s, one was Coleman’s. He’d had the unfortunate luck to meet them on a few occasions – mainly weddings. The other times had been when Brett had to go out into the oil fields to check shit over.
On one of those visits, Tate had driven his truck into one of the machines. His excuse? He’d been attacked by a Pterodactyl sized fly, and when he’d lifted his gun to shoot it, he’d hit the airbag on his steering wheel. Said airbag had somehow survived but had been triggered by the shot and had inflated into his face causing him to drive into a machine that cost millions of dollars. He was lucky to get away alive and unhurt, especially when you consider that his crotch was close to where he’d shot at.
“We’re all gonna die,” Dad groaned as he hit his head harder on the wall.
Hoping that I could at least get some useful details before I died in a flaming inferno accidentally caused by my family, I turned back to the laptop and started looking through the information, trying to figure out who would be the most likely psycho candidate.
“What’s the name of the guy whose prints it was?” I asked as I typed into the computer on my lap.
“Gary Lanay,” Coleman replied, coming to stand behind my shoulder watching the screen. “What are you going to do?”
Searching the list, I didn’t see any that matched, until something jumped out at me. Ray Lagan – it was an anagram for Gary Lanay.
“Who’s this guy - Ray Lagan?” I asked dad as I typed the names in, looking for photo ID for both of them.
“Oh, we wen
t to college together,” Dad sounded confused as he told us. “He had a crush on your mom, but he was a weird guy and she wasn’t interested. When she told him no and went out with me, he lost his shit. Said something about money and fucking shit up. He left not long after it and we never heard from him again.”
“Is this him?” I pointed at the screen so that dad could see the license photo.
Leaning over my shoulder, it didn’t take dad long to respond. “Fucking hell!”
Looking over at Coleman, I could see he’d figured it out too. Before we could do anything, the door burst open and a bloody Tony came in dragging Todd behind him who looked like he’d been shot in the side.
“They’ve got them,” Tony yelled, dropping Todd down onto the ground. Somehow, he landed on his knees and stayed upright, holding his side.
“Who?” Coleman barked as more of his men came in through the open door.
“I don’t know,” Tony screamed. “I was going to see Layla and Sonya because it was milking time at the other houses - tits and babies everywhere. I tripped over him,” he swung his hand in Todd’s direction who was now being helped onto a sofa by another one of the security team. “I saw three guys in black carrying them out, but they started shooting at me when I yelled for help.”
“I need the details,” Coleman ordered, moving Tony over to a corner and quizzing him.
His words sank in and I felt all of the breath leave me. They had Sonya. They’d taken her.
Some men find that shit like this breaks them, but it changed me and in a way that I wasn’t going to come back from.
For the millionth time in my life, my brain started to go through an analysis of what I knew and what we had available. I went through the areas around us that they could take them to, the statistics of ever finding them and survival and finally the psychological repercussions of situations like this on the victims.
All of it was for shit. I didn’t know the details that would piece it all together and help us find them and we’d have to split up to cover the areas that they could possibly have been taken to.
Providence Series Books 5-7 Page 28