But life was not always so cut and dry.
“If we don’t do this then we will eventually be killed. They will never stop looking for us,” Joe said. He was trying to be cold and trying to be strong because this situation warranted such behavior. He had become a master at compartmentalizing his feelings over the past few years and now he was going to put those skills to good use to save his life and Alicia’s life.
The idea to fake their deaths had come to him in the dream he had right before Roland Dean woke him up and tried to kill him. Joe had been wrestling with dark thoughts and feelings that he had tried to bury deep inside himself. He didn’t often have dreams like that but when he did they were pretty intense.
Alicia was resistant to the idea, as he knew that she would be. But there was no other way. There was no possible way that he could get to the Carliss family all by himself and pick them off one by one like you saw people doing in the movies. This was real life and in real life people got killed real quickly trying to do some Steven Seagal stuff.
Joe knew a guy who was a forensics geek. He’d asked Joe to do a favor for him once when he was about to get beat up in a bar. The man’s name was Kyle Hager, and in addition to being a forensics geek he was a bit of a ladies man. One night when Joe was chilling in a bar Kyle hit on the wrong woman and was two seconds away from being beaten to death by the girl’s boyfriend, a burly biker.
Joe intervened and the biker backed down. After that Kyle told Joe that if he ever needed a favor to let him know. Well, Joe needed a favor now.
Joe did not go into specifics with Kyle, but when Kyle investigated the crash he was going to “tamper” with the forensics and conclude that the crash victims were definitely Joe and Alicia. Joe did not ask Kyle to describe to him exactly how this would happen, but Kyle told him not to worry he would take care of it. That is what would be reported on the news and everyone who knew them would basically be led to believe that they’d had a bit too much to drink and lost control of the bike.
“Are you ready?” Joe asked Alicia.
“No, but I don’t think I ever will be really. I’ve enjoyed being Alicia Watson, despite all of the bullshit I’ve had to deal with in my life. I got used to being me.”
“You are still you,” Joe said. “You are just going to be a different you.”
“That is one way to look at it, I guess,” Alicia said.
“It’s the only way you can look at it and expect it to work,” Joe said.
Alicia sighed as she ran her hand down the side of the bike.
“It’s going to be a shame to destroy such a beautiful bike,” Alicia said.
“It’s just a bike,” Joe replied.
“But it’s one sexy machine.”
Joe laughed.
“Yea, it is that.”
Without another word Joe reached turned the key and kick started it. The bike roared to life. He was going to miss that sound. This bike had been a dream of his for a long time and he would never forget the moment he actually slid onto the seat for the first time the day he bought it. It was surreal, like what he imagined one might feel like watching their child being born.
Joe revved the engine, enjoying the sound.
“I’ll see you in a second,” Joe said.
The bike began moving rapidly down the embankment. Joe had to time this perfectly or he would be toast. It all happened so fast even after it was over he wasn’t totally sure how he did it.
A split second before the bike hit the edge of the cliff Joe pushed himself backwards falling off the back. He landed hard on his feet, the momentum flipping his body to the ground where he rolled over a three times, coming to a hard stop. The bike engine was racing, kicking back huge gulfs of exhaust smoke polluting the clear California evening as he watched it fly over the edge.
Joe could hear the destruction happening as the bike bounced down the side of the cliff. It was so much louder than he thought it would be and he could smell smoke, like something really burning that wasn’t just exhaust fumes. He didn’t want to watch it. He was happy standing far back at the start line where he had decided to let his former life die.
A hand curled around his just then and he looked down to see Alicia standing beside him, hugging his arm and holding his hand. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He loved the way she felt right up against him. She was so strong. She might have been the strongest woman he had ever met. She was going to have to be if she was going to put up with his ass.
“Come on,” Joe said as he climbed onto the other motorcycle. It was another Harley, but not quite as special as his first one.
Alicia hopped on behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso.
He fired it up and they headed off down the road into the night.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
“AGGH!”
Joe roared as he expelled his man seed deep inside of Alicia’s tightness. He held his final thrust, deep inside of her, enjoying every inch of her wet, tight slit. As his body started to relax he withdrew and rolled over to the other side of the bed trying to catch his breath.
She had awoken him that morning by touching his equipment and that was all it usually took to get him riled and ready to go, especially first thing in the morning. Some mornings they didn’t even make it out of bed until after eight. Which was perfectly ok since he’d become his own boss and worked from home.
“Wow, that was a new level,” Alicia said gasping beside him. She rolled over and laid her head on his shoulder. He started to stroke her head, running his big fingers through her soft, long hair. He loved her beautiful hair. It was like this perfect Gold color that shined even in perfect darkness.
“I’ll say,” Joe replied with a smile.
“You going to make it to work today?” Alicia asked.
“Yea, I’d better if I want to get that carburetor fixed on that Dodge,” Joe said.
An hour later he was showered, shaved, finished his breakfast, and walking into the office of his small auto shop. He had transformed a simple garage into a small auto shop about three months back. He had taken a few months off so that they could get comfortable with the new identities he’d put together and decide what he wanted to do with his new life. He had worked as an apprentice mechanic when he left the orphanage and picked things up pretty well. If he had not been selected to follow a different path he very well would have been working as a mechanic the past few years.
It was a good gig to have actually; he got to work at home and set his own hours. He was always home for lunch and some of Alicia’s home cooking. She was a miracle worker in the kitchen it turned out.
Alicia had started her own freelance photography business and had slowly built up a steady base. She loved doing it and was now being asked to do weddings. She was making great money and she really did have a knack for it.
Joe had to shake his head and laugh at it all sometimes though. How did he end up here?
But he loved it. He really did. He used to pretend to be one of those normal suburban people all the time and kidding himself that they were wasting their lives. But he knew now exactly how much he had been wrong and how much he’d always secretly envied those people. But even during it all he knew deep down that he wanted to be somewhere like that, in a beautiful neighborhood with an amazing woman who really cared for him.
He was madly in love with Alicia and she felt the same about him. It was the best thing he could have imagined happening to him. It was absurd to think about when he replayed everything that had happened in his head to bring it all together, but it was for the best.
No one was looking for them. The danger had passed. Joe Roman and Alicia Watson were dead as far as the rest of the world new.
But Roy Welk and his wife Patricia were very much alive. He and Alicia were not legally married, but they were married in their hearts. They just did not want to risk the mistake of their fake identities causing a problem because they wanted a marriage license.
Roy still stayed up late sometimes thinking about what would have happened if he had just taken Alicia home before heading to the drop. It all would have been different. But knowing now what he knew then he was sure that he would have made the same decision.
You damn right he would have.
*****
THE END
~*~
NEW ADULT & COLLEGE COLLECTION
~*~
Three Perfect Students
~Bonus Story~
A Steamy College Menage & Foursome Romance
WARNING: This is one deep, dark, hard-spanking, dirty-talking and boundary-pushing read. Not intended for the faint of heart.
“You never know until you try.” Anna Dunstan is a first year college student with a rather deep and intense set of desires inside her. She lusts after three men in particular, who are all close friends, despite their different backgrounds and personalities. The Jock, the Gamer and the Musician, whom she often fantasizes about. Of course, she knows her fantasy is hardly likely to become real. After all, people have issues with sharing in general, let alone making it into a circle of four. So she's happy to daydream, happy to give them discreet glances, and let her mind run rampant at night, imagining scenarios from sweet to hot and thrilling.
That's before, of course, she's caught staring by one of them during lunchtime. Caught red handed, she prepares for ridicule, to be laughed at...
* * *
Chapter One
My teachers love giving me too much work to handle. Most students, except for the zealous and hardworking tend to ignore it, but I'm not one of those students. My family expects good grades, my friends see me as smart, and the only way to hold up that particular illusion is keep on top of everything whenever I can.
I'm in the library right now, working on my science essay, already thinking about the other essays I want to do, along with the little reward I'm going to give myself later just before I go to bed – which will either be a quick surf on Pornhub, or a quick delve into my imagination to tackle my favorite fantasies regarding three college men who seem to hit me in just the right spot.
Speaking of those college men, I bite my lip when all three of them come in at once, grabbing a seat on a table that's not so far from my spot. They take notebooks out of their bags, ready to work.
Instantly, my senses rev to high alert, and I chew on the lid of my pen as my attention to my essay dwindles, and the focus on them increases.
One is Peter Lawson. He's big, bulky and blond, exactly the kind of guy you see playing football. He always has a confident smile to his face, and not the kind that makes you want to bitch slap them into next week. Then there's Dennis Caltruck, who for all intents and purposes, is the complete opposite of Peter. He has light brown hair, dark eyes, and is slender and willowy in comparison to Peter's muscle bound form. He's wearing a Pacman shirt right now, but is laughing and joking with Peter as if there's no obvious difference between them at all. Last is George Holman. Penetrating blue eyes, black hair – he looks stunning, but he's harder to read than the others. He prefers neat clothes like pinstripe shirts and pants. He's quieter than the others in this scenario, but when he talks, they instantly listen.
All of them are inexplicably friends with one another. And all of them are handsome. Small wonder I find myself getting easily distracted by them, and allowing my imagination to run amok.
I don't have the type of dreams where I imagine each of them in different scenarios, taking them to bed one by one. I imagine them all taking me at the same time. Pretty slutty, right?
Admittedly, I'm not sure where it came from, if it can even come from anything at all – this desire to endure sex like that. For a start, I suppose, I like gangbang porn. Not the kind where they just lie there and take it, but the kind where everyone's an active participant, some giving orders, sometimes even kissing each other when they're not focusing on the female. There's not so many of those types of porn where somehow four people can seem romantic, so I tend to make them up in my head.
I'm fairly certain if I even slipped a word to these three, my life would be over. If they knew what went in my mind, that I craved them to the point where I firmly place them in the constructs of my ongoing fantasies, they would flip.
George looks over for a moment, and catches me staring. I hastily avert my eyes and try to act like I'm concentrating on my work. After a moment, he focuses back on his friends, and I exhale a sigh of relief.
I'm not doing any favors for myself like this. Either I'm going to get my essay written during the rest of my study period, or I'm going to drool incessantly over the three men I've commandeered for my best sexual fantasies.
I get up, and clang up the spiral staircase in the university library, to find a corner to hide myself in so I can get my essay done.
It's not easy, because my mind keeps drifting back to the men, sometimes leaving me half frozen in the middle of a sentence. My teacher insists on doing the essay by hand, and I find it bothersome, because everything's submitted electronically these days. Not so much with my science teacher, who likes good old fashioned pen and paper.
It's annoying to have the fantasies because I do want to maintain the image of a good girl. To have everyone think I have integrity, rather than being like one of your college sluts who gets drunk at parties and then sleeps with everyone in the room. My parents still think I'm some innocent cherub who doesn't know what sex is, even at the age of eighteen. They never mentioned it to me more than past the obligaTori sex talk, and they take my not dating as a good sign that I'm concentrating on my studies, rather than popping out babies, like they believe my best friend is going to do.
It's possible, honestly. Tori Reed is kind of a slut, though I would never say it to her face.
When I make it back home later, my mom greets me as I walk through the door.
“Hey, Anna. How was your day at college?”
“Fine,” I say. “I got a lot of studying done, but they've loaded me up. I need to get more finished tonight if I want to keep on top of things.”
“Excellent, excellent. Well, I've got you some good brain food for dinner, should help you keep up your spirits!”
“Thanks, mom,” I say, smiling at my mother. She's tied her blond hair into a severe ponytail, and her blue eyes regard me as if I'm the best model daughter she could ever ask for. She likes to refer to our family unit as the Dunstan dream. My dad's at work, but he would also act equally proud.
It's a shame I'm nothing like what they think on the inside. I may not have had sex, but I'm curious about it, and I've certainly watched enough porn and read enough stories to desensitize myself to it.
Later on, when I've eaten, studied and resisted the urge to start stroking myself, although my spare hand often rested on the top of my crotch, I finally give into the desires and take a good half hour out of my studies to picture the three men in my head. I've locked my bedroom door, and I hide under the bedcovers, following wherever my imagination takes me.
I imagine Peter overpowering me, pinning me against the wall with those huge muscles of his. I imagine being thrown onto the bed and then being stripped naked, taking in George's erection in my mouth, as Dennis licks me from between my legs, and Peter caresses my breasts. I switch them around, moving my body as well to simulate being thrust into. I imagine Peter whispering dirty words into my ear, then George inside me, then Dennis. I watch Peter and George kiss, and I'm only partway through visualizing that scene when I climax, heart beating fast, groaning quietly as the wonderful feeling ripples through me.
Shame hits me as well, once I've recovered past my amorous fog of war and my urges are satisfied. I can't help these desires, but they made it so damn hard for me to think when I want to study.
At least, though, they'll stay a fantasy. None of the men need ever find out what I really think of them.
Though I've entertained the daydream of them finding out as well, of course.
I find it better in the long r
un to arrest my daydreams as soon as I can and release myself, so I become less inclined to do stupid things, like stalk them, or try and snip off a lock of their hair to smell or something.
So far, it's working.
I'm just not so sure how much longer it will work for.
Chapter Two
Over the week for me, it's the same kind of routine. Attempt to pay attention in lectures. Get annoyed if the teacher is talking too fast or if they sound half asleep. Sometimes masturbate to certain salacious thoughts that make their way into my head. That sort of thing. I don't dare tell anyone about my thoughts, because I don't want them to think less of me. However, it gets to the point at times where I'm not sure how much longer I can keep the dreams to myself before I start acting out on them, and completely humiliating myself in college.
I keep assuming that Peter will be the dominant one out of the three of them, and Dennis the shyest, though it's entirely possible I might be wrong. In the best case scenario that they're all chill with sexing it out with one another, it could be that Dennis is a demon in the sack. Could be.
Anyway, I finish up my lesson, leaving me with two hours of free study and eating. I grab a burger from the canteen, craving hard, greasy shit, and I seem to offend the thin women who are grabbing their rabbit food, and there's a few fatties who are loading their trays up with grease. I'm not exactly a dream shape myself, but I'm thin enough to be comfortable, and there's no rib poking out of my skin, so that's something.
Finishing my burger, I head off down the corridor to the music block, intending to head through the back entrance to experience the sunny day, maybe sit on a grassy knoll and catch up on the books I've been assigned to read. With the smell of freshly mown grass around me, I look forward to it. I casually glance into each door window as I pass, before grinding to a halt by Music Room 17B, when I see two very familiar figures seated in there. Dennis Caltruck and George Holman.
Bad, Very Bad Shifters- The Complete Mega Bundle Page 95