Driftwood Cove Trilogy: Complete Series

by E. C. Towers

  Jacob's relaxed pose was both sexy and annoying. She didn't like to be the only one who was worried. She knew they couldn't assume anything about Derek. He was cunning and smart. But despite this thought, she got into the Airstream. The interior was embarrassingly lavish, especially for a vehicle designed specifically for 'roughing it.' They living room that had a large, marshmallow-looking couch that practically invited you to fall into it, and a 65-inch flat screen television, custom built into the wall. On one end was a kitchen with stainless steel appliances and a black granite countertop that extended out into a small bar surrounded by retro black and steel stools. On the other end was the bedroom where Jacob was headed. Linda couldn't resist falling into the sofa, taking full advantage of its luxurious plushness. She felt like she was caught by a cloud as she sunk in slowly. As worried as Linda was about tomorrow's adventures, the couch was so comfortable; she practically fell asleep as soon as she sat down.

  “What are you doing?”

  Jacob walked back to the living room, finding Linda snuggling into the sofa.

  “I'm going to bed. You should too.”

  Linda was so relaxed that the mere thought of opening her eyes to look at him seemed too strenuous to bother.

  "I thought the bedroom might be a place to do that,” he added.

  “And where would you be sleeping?”

  "Well, I just thought we could...” Jacob stammered his words.

  “Oh, I know what you thought. You thought you were this big hero that had rescued me, a poor damsel in distress. And now I should be so grateful and just go to bed with you. It sounds like a great beginning for your Penthouse Forum letter. Why don't you go to the bedroom, write it out and let me know what happens?”

  “You know, not every guy wants to sleep with you, Linda. Get over yourself.”

  “No, Jacob, not every guy. But I know you do.”

  This time, Linda opened her eyes and looked him up and down. Blue and black board shorts with a black tank top that highlighted the wideness of his shoulders, showing off his sculpted arms.

  He stood quietly, wondered about what to say. Jacob fully intended just to sleep in bed with Linda platonically, but who was he kidding? He was getting a chubby right now just looking at her stretched out on the couch. Linda's silk top was pulled taut across her breasts. He could make out her nipples as they pushed against the fabric.

  Linda glanced at his crotch and smiled.

  “I'll take that nice bulge in your pants as confirmation that it’s exactly what you expected me to do.”

  He didn't know what to say because it was true.

  “It's okay, Jacob. I don't blame you for thinking that. I'm sure you've heard stories about me around Driftwood Cove, and those stories are probably all true. I do have orgies. I am a sexually active woman. But it's always on my terms, do you understand?”

  Jacob nodded like a little boy who'd been caught looking at his dad's Playboys. Linda noticed the slight bulge in his pants had turned into a huge hard-on. So this is what this guy was into? Discipline? He got off on being treated like a bad boy. And just like that, she was suddenly game to play.

  He walked sheepishly back to the back bedroom, hoping Linda hadn't noticed the tent he was pitching in his shorts. Jacob just wanted to rub it out and go to bed.

  “Where do you think you're going!?” she snapped at him, stopping the boy in his tracks.

  “I'm going to bed like you wanted me to,” he answered, confused.

  “I'm not finished with you, though.”

  Linda's subtly licked her bottom lip, letting Jacob know what she intended to do.

  “Come back here. Stand in front of me.”

  Jacob did as he was told and stood back in front of her, giving her a full view of his raging hard-on.

  "Now, lay face down on my lap."

  “Wha..?”

  “Do as you’re told.”

  Linda made it clear that he was not permitted to speak.

  Jacob's heart was beating a mile per minute with excitement and anticipation as he did as he was told. He laid down in front of Linda and pressed his hard cock against her thigh. Linda took advantage of the situation and rubbed his hard, tight ass, making him twitch with desire.

  She slipped off his shorts slowly. The heat of his tense dick against her thigh made her wet immediately. Linda slapped his bottom lightly before squeezing his ass painfully hard. The sting from her slaps radiated to his cock, and he had to try hard not to come all over her right then and there.

  "Did you think it would be that easy to get me to bed?" she whispered, slapping his ass viciously hard, leaving behind the red imprint of her hand.

  The biting sting drove Jacob insane with desire. He secretly wanted her to slap his ass even harder.

  “Yes, I did think it was that easy. Can you blame me? You have a reputation that precedes you,” he insulted her, playing the game, practically beginning to be corrected.

  Linda slapped his ass twice, as hard as she could, setting his entire body to tense from the unexpected brutality.

  “I don't just have sex with anyone, Jacob, so I'm terribly insulted by your words. Say you're sorry.”

  Jacob breathed hard, sweat forming across his brow. The last two slaps had been unbelievably painful, but without thinking he knew wanted more.

  “I'm not apologizing, you fucking bitch,” he raged through mangled lips, awaiting his punishment.

  Linda smiled when she realized he wanted more, and she didn't disappoint him. Three hard slaps came down without the slightest mercy, eliciting desperate groans from the boy. The throbbing sting of her slaps lingered and radiated throughout his body, even tickling the tip of his cock. She grabbed a handful of his ass again and dug her fingernails in.

  “Come on, Jacob, say you're sorry.”

  Linda squeezed harder, feeling Jacob buckle underneath her.

  “I'm sorry,” he begged, rubbing his tingling cock hard on her soft thigh.

  His thrusting ass jerked up and down against her sharp fingers nails, and she was secretly pleased to feel his hard cock pressing against her gentle thigh. His balls tensed and released in each volley of his excruciating pleasures.

  He grunted and growled like an animal and bit into the couch as the powerful orgasm wrenched through his entire frame, not ceasing until he had completely emptied himself. Jacob was drenched in sweat, and Linda helped him take off his tank top, slipping her hands between the hairs of his chest and giving them a gentle tug. She followed a bead of sweat that fell from his temple and slowly rolled against his hard jaw and down to his neck where it landed on her hand.

  “Are you thirsty?” she whispered.

  Jacob nodded his head and went down and used her to quench his thirst. He held on to both of her knees and opened up her legs, licking at the wetness underneath her silk panties. He slipped them off hurriedly and rolled his tongue across her clit, gently lathering up and down, and now it was Linda's turn to buck and squirm against him.

  She grabbed a handful of his hair and buried his face into her sex, grinding herself against his tongue as she came quickly and easily.

  16

  The Gate

  As soon as light crept through the skylight of the camper, Jacob and Linda woke up, dressing swiftly to descend back down to the tunnel, cautious of what might be waiting for them below. When they were sure neither Derek nor the police had discovered their location, they continued west down the corridor for about half a mile before reaching another door, this one leading out into a small alley.

  Linda inhaled the sea air and knew right away they were near their point of escape. Jacob grabbed her hand in his, and they both hurried to an old Jeep Wrangler parked on the street. Jacob jumped behind the wheel.

  “So where is he keeping your boat?”

  Linda retrieved the key card out of her purse, hoping it contained some insight to where they were headed. She only had a roundabout idea of where it was located and was relieved to find the address of Adminis
tracion Portuaria's Gate 42 printed on the back. She entered the address into her phone's GPS and was relieved that it was only 18 minutes away down the coast.

  Despite the proximity, they still had to hurry. Derek was an early riser, and it wouldn't take long for him to figure out that she was gone. She still had no idea how she was going to get the ship out without alerting him.

  “I found it! Let’s go! Go! Go!” she cried.

  Jacob obliged, stepping on the gas to speed towards the docks as she messaged her boat captain to alert the crew to prepare themselves for an emergency departure. The crew had all been housed by Derek at the Villa Del Palmar, a resort hotel only five minutes from where the boat was being hidden. Captain Comstock messaged her back almost immediately and assured her that he and his crew would be there and ready to go upon her arrival.

  Linda and Jacob arrived at the large, gated boat yard a few minutes later and spotted Captain Comstock and the rest of the crew parked far behind the yard. She took a quick mental roll call in her head as she scanned the group and made sure everyone had made it. Her crew was a ragtag sort of group that her husband had hand picked because he felt a “connection” with each and every one of them. This “spiritual” and “energy” mumbo jumbo he was so fond of was something that Linda would normally roll her eyes to, but David’s hiring method had been proven time and time again. Spending his life in politics, he had come to feel that he could only rely on his intuition, as every resume that had ever landed on his desk was mostly fictional. The crew of the Patriot had been with her for years after his passing, and they functioned like a well-oiled machine.

  Captain Comstock greeted her with a warm smile as Tarango, the first officer, quickly nodded his head to let her know that he was ready to go. His deckhands, Eguez and Chan, ran to the back of the Jeep as soon as they stopped.

  “No luggage for either of us today, gentlemen,” Linda informed them as she got out of the Jeep.

  Jacob followed her and shook hands with the crew, introducing himself. When he shook Chef Pirman’s hand, the plump man pulled Jacob in close with a concerned look.

  “Are you allergic to anything?” he asked.

  “Not that I know of,” Jacob replied.

  “Great! Then I’m really going to feed you well, young man,” Pirman grinned at him enthusiastically, anxious to get back in his kitchen.

  “I had the crew hold up back her. I was concerned that maybe you didn’t intend for our arrival to be noticed.”

  “You read my mind, Captain, thank you,” she smiled.

  This is why David had chosen you against my recommendation, she thought.

  Captain Comstock bowed his head in gratitude for her confidence in him.

  “I’m sure you already have a plan for departure, and as you have clearly realized our predicament, let me perfectly frank. We are all in the middle of a highly sensitive situation. The man that had you bring the ship to that dock will likely try to stop our leaving by any means available to him. It would be in our best interest if no one were to know about our movement until we are clear and gone.”

  Derek’s men had suggested to Captain Comstock that Linda would not be returning aboard in the foreseeable future. They assured him it was essential that he move the Patriot to this commercial shipyard to be tied in among the monstrous cargo carriers where they could remain out of sight. The recreation docks where hundreds of private vessels were kept for the pleasure of their owners was a bad idea. Their employer valued discretion, and his crew would be well taken care of. Suites at a luxury resort were being prepared so that they might enjoy themselves, the men assured him. Comstock’s stoic resistance to the absurd notion was only tempered by the guns in holsters that the men had discreetly flashed from behind their jackets. His time at war, however, had left him on high alert for the past weeks, and Linda’s words had come as little surprise.

  Without skipping a beat, Comstock said, “Of course, Ms. St. John. Tarango, who’s in there right now?”

  Tarango’s reply came without a hint of hesitation.

  “At this hour, the security desk on this end of the yard is manned by only a single guard. He is presently not at his station and may be on rounds or in the men’s room. There are only three employees inside the loading dock, which represent the whole of night shift crew. They handle the five slips on either side of us, though they move randomly between piers as their duties warrant. The morning crew consists of 54 employees, and their shift begins at approximately 7:00 a.m.”

  Captain Comstock verified that it was presently 6:25 a.m. before he cleared his throat for the crew’s attention.

  “Pirman, you and the stewards will escort Ms. St. John and her guest to the boat ramp as quietly as you can. Eguez, you are to distract the dockworkers. Coax them out of that building and keep their eyes away from the Patriot,” he said pointing to the illuminated warehouse along the slip they were moored to. “Tarango, you and Chan will do everything necessary to have the ship free and ready to move within eight minutes of my order.” He gave a stern look back at Equez, “You are to be aboard ship in exactly eight minutes, no matter what happens. Is that clear?”

  Everyone nodded their assent.

  “Wait, Captain, what of the guard? How will Eguez be able to distract him also if we don’t know where he is?” Linda asked.

  Captain Comstock move swiftly passed her to open the rear doors of the van the crew had arrived in. He pulled out a small black ball and held it out to Tarango, who lit the plastic wick sticking out from the side.

  “We’re going to have a little car fire,” the captain coolly informed her before throwing the black ball under the hood.

  The captain gave the order and they all dispersed with their luggage as plumes of heavy black smoke began to billow out of the vehicle. There was a hissing noise followed by a whooshing sound and seconds later the front of the vehicle was fully engulfed in flames.

  “Is that Derek’s van?” she whispered as they moved away.

  “I’m sure it’s just a rental,” Comstock replied without concern.

  Eguez ran to the front of the building as the crew moved quietly around to the side, preparing to slip further as soon as the employees were out. Eguez hollered in Spanish about the car urgently,

  “Hello! Anyone?!” Eguez hollered in Spanish at the doors of the building.

  The large rolling garage door was wide open, but there was nobody in sight.

  “Hello! We need help!” Eguez yelled at a figure that approached him wearily.

  “Hey, hey, hey! What’s with all the yelling, friend? It’s too damn early for that,” the cranky, pot-bellied man in a grease stained shirt approached them casually.

  "Mr. Delgado's car is on fire! We need everyone's help to empty out the trunk before it gets too big,” he said anxiously as the old man got closer, hoping to leave the tired man without time to think.

  Judging by how the old man’s demeanor changed from lethargic to full alert, Eguez moved back to lead them to the flames.

  “Miguel! Oscar! Grab the fire extinguishers and let's put it out!"

  The old man was surprisingly quick on his feet as he followed Eguez out to the parking lot with the two other dockworkers trailing along behind him, each of them holding a fire extinguisher.

  Captain Comstock moved the crew down the pier and inside the ship as Tarango and his remaining deckhand raced to unsecure all but one of the six heavy cables holding the 120-foot vessel in place. Pirman and the stewards moved Linda and Jacob into the vessel to hide, keeping an eye out for anyone who might walk by.

  “How do you guys know how to…?” Linda asked, baffled at her crew’s quick thinking.

  Chef Pirman smiled at her disbelief.

  “Captain made sure that we were fully prepared for a quick departure. He made sure we knew exactly how to do this. He’s done little else but draw assault sketches on the hotel stationary since we arrived.”

  Linda laughed, “You guys were supposed to be enjoying a vacatio
n in Puerto Vallarta, Chef.”

  “There’s only so many massages and umbrella drinks one can have, my dear,” he chuckled quietly.

  Linda could see the doubt in Jacob’s eyes.

  “How are they going to keep those guys out there? Once the fire is out, what are they…?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Pirman smiled.

  Tarango moved through the lounge in seconds to descend to the engine room, as Chan approached the final winch holding the Patriot along the pier near the dock ramp. He waited what seemed an eternity for the image of Eguez to appear before unwinding the last loops. The deckhand turned the corner of the cargo building to race down the planks at a full run, and from behind Chan could see the elusive guard moving swiftly behind him with a radio held at his mouth. With less than a minute to spare, all aboard felt the shudder of Captain Comstock engaging the engines. The dock ramp rose up two feet off the pier for clearance as the ship moved inches away from the edge. Chan tossed the remaining stay line aboard ship, and within seconds, both men had jumped up on the ramp and hustled aboard before it retracted into the hull.

  As deftly as possible, the Captain moved the Patriot away from the pier, leaving behind the guard and the dockworkers that were finally arriving at the scene. In seconds, they were slicing quietly through the calm morning waters of the largely empty channel out to the harbor. Through the glass doors, Linda could see men inside the main security station at the mouth of the cargo dock behind them. They gestured angrily at her ship, one of them speaking furiously into a phone receiver as the vessel moved beyond their reach. After she was a reasonable distance into the harbor, the captain opened up the Patriot’s engines with a powerful roar and moved full speed ahead into the Pacific.

  They had done it. She could scarcely believe how smoothly it had gone, but it was done. She quietly thanked David for ignoring her many warnings over the years to bring these exceptional people into her life. There was no way she could have escaped without them.

  17