GRIPPED (Romance Mystery & Suspense Box Set)

by Abbott, Alex

  I smiled exuberantly. “My lips are sealed.” I’d just realized something. Jack... thought I was his sister! The moment he heard my name was Gracie Travers, he must have thought he was related to me by blood.

  So that’s why he had acted so strange in the garden that day. He couldn’t tell me the great family secret—his father had probably sworn him to secrecy—and neither could he keep on seeing me.

  “Mom,” I breathed, placing both hands on her shoulders. “Thank you so much for telling me.”

  “So you’re not mad? I would have told you sooner, but thought you might be devastated once you discovered who your real father was.”

  I grinned. “I’m not mad. If anything, I’m relieved!”

  And I quickly told her in a few words what had transpired between me and Jack.

  “Oh, my God. That boy must have been crushed! All this time he thought you were his sister? No wonder he stayed away.”

  I regarded her with shining eyes. “He loves me, Mom. He really does.”

  “Of course he does. Why else would he have behaved this way?”

  “It’s the only explanation.” I hopped up from the table. “I have to see him.”

  “Honey, it’s the middle of the night. He’s probably asleep.”

  I suddenly remembered I’d instructed Natasha to seduce Jack. Just to see if he cared for me. Or not… Horrified, my heart made a sudden leap of terror. “I-I have to see him. I have to see him right now. B-before it’s too late.”

  Mom got up with the resigned look of a mother who knows her daughter’s heart. She folded me into a tight embrace. “Good luck, honey.”

  “Thanks, Mom... for everything.”

  “Go get your guy,” she whispered.

  Chapter 37

  Jack sat stunned. He’d just confessed to being deeply, madly in love with Gracie Travers, when Natasha had unleashed her bombshell announcement on him that “Hey, guess what. This is actually Gracie’s apartment after all. I lied.”

  “What kind of game do you think you’re playing?” he growled, quickly rising to his feet. He swayed, the alcohol in his system doing little to ameliorate his mood.

  “You fuck with my friends, I fuck with you.” Suddenly, the pleasant model turned vicious. “You dumped her like a two-bit whore, buddy, so deal with the consequences.”

  “You tried to seduce me.”

  “Yeah, and I almost succeeded. Just goes to show how much you really care for Gracie, huh?”

  Jack grunted something under his breath, and stomped to the exit. “I’m out of here.”

  “That’s right. Run away again. That seems to be the only thing you’re good at, buddy.”

  His temper getting the better of him, he wheeled around. “She’s my fucking sister!” he thundered. “What was I supposed to do?”

  Though he immediately regretted losing control like that and divulging a secret he’d sworn his dad he’d never reveal, he was gratified to see the stunned expression on Natasha’s face.

  “Gracie is... your sister?”

  “Uh-huh. She didn’t tell you?”

  “No, she didn’t,” breathed Natasha.

  Jack shook his head. “Because she doesn’t know. Neither did I until my dad sprung the news on me. So now you see why I had to leave her?”

  Natasha nodded absentmindedly, then focused her attention on Jack again with some effort. “I’m sorry, Jack. I-I didn’t know.”

  “Well, now that you do, I’d appreciate you not sharing this information with anyone, you hear me?”

  “I won’t, Jack. You have my word.” Then she amended, “Well, except Gracie, of course. She has to be told.”

  Jack held up a hand. “Please. Don’t tell her. It will destroy her.”

  “You took care of that, Jack. A little bit more won’t do any more harm than you already did.”

  He gazed at Natasha in desperation. “No, please. Keep this between us. Gracie cannot know.”

  “She has to know!” declared Natasha with some heat.

  “What do I need to know?” suddenly rang out a voice from the entrance.

  Jack jerked his head in the direction of the speaker, whom he’d instantly recognized as Gracie.

  “Jack has a secret,” announced Natasha, “that he doesn’t want to share with you.”

  Gracie strode into the room, crossing over to the couch to sit next to her friend. “Don’t tell me. You’re my brother, right?”

  Jack was flabbergasted by this statement, but more so by its cool delivery. Gracie’s face, normally so lively, was a mask of control.

  “How-how did you find out?” was all he could manage.

  “My mother told me the whole story tonight.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “My dad told me the day you came to see me. That’s why...” He swallowed, the sight of her overwhelming his senses. She looked so beautiful, so delicate and refined. The rest and time spent with her family had clearly done her well. The unhealthy pallor that had dominated her features was gone, and her cheeks had a roseate glow.

  “That’s why you dumped me?”

  “I didn’t dump you, honey. I just couldn’t—”

  “What happened here?” Gracie interrupted. She looked over at her friend. “Did you sleep with him?”

  Natasha’s smile was warm and full of mirth. “He didn’t want to. Said he was still in love with you.”

  Gracie’s mask seemed to crack at this. She blinked several times. “You... You’re in love with me, Jack?”

  “I am,” he said miserably. “But it’s impossible. We’re brother and sister.”

  She slowly shook her head. “No, we’re not.”

  “But we are. My dad told me—”

  “Your dad doesn’t know the whole story. My mother had an affair. With a well-known painter. And that’s when I was born.” For the first time, a smile appeared on Gracie’s lovely face. “We’re not related, Jack, you and I. We’re just... two people... who accidentally met when you saved my life.”

  Jack felt his head spin. “What are you saying? That my father—”

  “Isn’t my father.” Turning to her friend, she added under her breath, “Bruno Gartner is. And if you mention this to anyone, I’ll be forced to break your legs.”

  Natasha squealed with delight at this piece of information. Then, sobered by a penetrating look from Gracie, quickly said, “I’ll be in my room if you need me. Or rather,” she added after a meaningful stare, “I think I’ll go and stretch my legs. Walk off five mint juleps.” She quickly tip-toed to the exit, and after a whispered, “See you, Jack. Nice to meet you,” she disappeared out the door.

  “I behaved abominably,” spoke Jack, feeling like an absolute fool. “I should have told you the truth.”

  “You should have,” agreed Gracie. “If each time there’s a little hiccup in our relationship you’re going to shut me out completely, we won’t have much of a marriage now will we?”

  “M-marriage?” stammered Jack, taking a step closer to Gracie, who sat imperiously on the couch.

  “That’s what I said. You did intend to marry me, right?”

  “I did,” confessed Jack.

  A wide smile broke through the clouds, and a sigh of relief escaped Gracie’s lips. “So you do love me after all?”

  Jack closed the distance between them in a heartbeat and scooped her up in his arms.

  “I’ve never loved anyone more, Melanie-Valerie-Gracie, and if you let me, I’ll love you and take care of you until the day I die.”

  Chapter 38

  They were exactly the words I’d longed for weeks to hear. As Jack’s arms closed around me, the sadness and loneliness melted away, and my heart soared in jubilation. Jack loved me—he really loved me.

  His lips stirred mine, and I greedily drew him in, letting myself fall to the couch as he took me, voraciously, pinning me down beneath his powerful frame.

  He made short shrift of my blouse and as I shrugged out of my jeans, he revealed his musc
ular torso, his eyes full of lust and want—dying to have me once again—to take what was rightfully his.

  “Jack—oh, my Jack.”

  “Gracie,” he murmured, his eyes roving across my chest, taking in my heaving breasts and the soft swell of my mound. With a throaty growl, he bent down to strip me of the last remaining pieces of garment, and then we were naked, surrounded by the pieces of art I’d created, their cheerful colors seemingly rejoicing in the union of their creator with the man she’d pined for.

  He took my mouth with ease and care this time, wanting to take things slow, but once our tongues met in their delicious tango, all caution was thrown to the wind, and soon we were melting all over again, just like we had before.

  A sigh escaped my throat when his lips suckled at my breast, his hands feeding first one, then the other tit into his greedy mouth, wetting my soft skin with his saliva until I was all slick and wet. He moved down, his roving eyes dark and lustful on mine, and when his mouth took my cunt, I cried out with pleasure. To feel Jack on my naked flesh once again, when I’d expected never to see him again, was sheer rapture, and when his tongue plumbed my depths, the thick of it splaying my lips wide, I almost came just from the feel of his hot touch beyond my velvet folds. He eased his fingers into my welcoming hole, then, his tongue flicking along my deliciously swollen nub until I whimpered with delight, my eyes closed and my orgasm lifting me up and slamming me down in the most delicious high, and when he sucked in my flowing nectar, I begged him to take me.

  He plunged into me, then, easing his long girth into my sex with perfect control, then, as he was exposed to the boiling heat of my cunt, a spasm of pleasure had him slam home into me with an explosion of movement.

  “Oh, God, yes, Jack,” I moaned as I felt him all the way inside, reaching the farthest depths of me, his thick cockhead pushing against the walls of my vagina until I thought I’d burst.

  “Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me hard.”

  Easing out, only to plunge into me again, he eagerly obeyed my expressed desire, and when he rocked more and more furiously between my thighs, I spread my legs wider still, enveloping his wide hips with my legs, my feet pummeling his clenching buttocks, and I knew I’d finally landed in heaven.

  I lay back against the black leather, the soft cushions yielding to Jack’s incessant thrusts as I cried out his name over and over again.

  His lips were on mine, then trailing down my neck before stirring my twin mounds of pleasure again, sucking my nipples deeply into his mouth and nibbling gently until I thought I would simply explode with pleasure.

  The wet sounds of our lovemaking reverberated around the room, my soppy cunt wet to overflowing with my juices, inviting Jack into me over and over again.

  His face flushed, his dark eyes bored into me. “Gracie,” he growled fiercely. “I love you so fucking much. Will you be my wife?”

  “Yes. Yes, Jack!” I cried out, and then I felt his cock spreading even wider inside me, his burgeoning length ready to explode.

  “Come inside me, honey. Fill me with your cum,” I implored.

  With a grunt, his eyes never leaving mine, he exploded into me, his balls erupting in twin geysers of hot semen and pumping a steady stream of cum into my tender flesh, straight into my pulsating womb.

  “Make me a baby, Jack,” I whispered against his lips. “M-make me a baby.”

  Spurt after spurt of white hot cum shot into my deepest center, coating my quivering womb with Jack’s seed until the last drop was spilled and I was full to the brim with the harvest of his sex.

  Panting, he relaxed on top of me, his cock buried deep inside my belly, our union unbroken.

  “What are you going to tell your dad if he asks why you’re marrying your sister?”

  “The truth, if you’ll let me,” he suggested.

  “I’ll have to ask my mom. I promised not to share her secret with anyone.”

  I mussed up his hair even more than it already was, and he gave me a sly grin. “We’ll make quite the family. I think we need a diagram to keep it all straight in our heads.”

  “There’s only one thing we need to know,” I murmured, fluttering kisses on his temple.

  “What’s that?”

  “We love each other, and that’s all that matters.”

  He brushed his lips across mine, and we drank each other in, lost in the moment and in each other.

  “You saved me in more ways than one, Jack Carter.”

  “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  I lay back, a contented smile on my face. Love had come into my life when Jack decided to save me, and I knew it would never leave.

  END

  ***

  A Note from Nic Saint:

  I’ve been writing ever since I could hold a pen, though not romance in particular. That stuff came later, much later. Over the years I’ve written mystery, thriller, action-adventure, children’s books, cat sleuth books and comedy, only to finally settle on what I like best: writing romance.

  When I’m not tugging at the heartstrings, I enjoy doing yoga, watch a great movie, eat stuff or play with our big, fire-engine-red cat Tommy.

  You can find me at my website, on Facebook or Twitter.

  To be informed when a new book comes out, subscribe to my newsletter.

  You can find all of Nic’s books on:

  AMAZON

  ***

  The Enforcer

  (Men Who Thrill Series – Book One)

  By Kaye Blue

  Chapter One

  “Please! Don’t!”

  The man’s entreaty fell on deaf ears.

  I’d been sent to do a job, one that I would complete, no matter how much he begged. I glared down at him and he shrank away, recoiled further when I stepped closer, his screams getting louder and again joined by his shameless begging.

  “Please! I have it!”

  He reached into his pocket and retrieved a wad of bills, lifting them up to me as if they would make a difference.

  They wouldn’t.

  The time that money could have helped him had long since passed, but he’d still pay, only now with his blood. I didn’t bother to waste my words explaining that fact to him. He wouldn’t have listened anyway; his type never did.

  “I’ll pay you! Double! Triple!” he exclaimed, tossing the bills at me.

  If I still had the capacity, I would have been offended. People like him thought that everyone was as easily bought as they were. In most cases, it was probably true, but the little pride I allowed myself was based solely on the fact that I wasn’t for sale. Maybe a person like me, a thug, a criminal, had no room to judge, but I did it anyway. I considered myself a professional. I had few morals, but those I did have, I respected with an almost religious fervor. Of course, I did recognize the irony of the fact that I’d be out of a job if other people took their word as seriously as I did mine.

  When he saw that his money was of no value, he took a different approach. I could see the calculation behind his eyes, the frantic way he grasped at any path out of this. I let out a little chuckle. Seemed the little weasel had some fight, though he clearly wasn’t very bright, not if he’d ended up in this unfortunate predicament.

  “I’ve seen your face. I’ll go to the cops,” he said, his voice brimming with bravado that rang hollow, as fake and cheap as his gaudy pinkie ring.

  That was bullshit through and through. Going to the cops would mean questions, questions that would undoubtedly lead to the suspicious fire that had destroyed a warehouse he owned last month, and questions about what had happened to his generous insurance payout. And this man, sniveling little pig that he was, wouldn’t be able to come up with a believable story if his life depended on it. And there was the not-small fact that if he ran into the wrong cop, he’d find himself wishing for me instead.

  “No you won’t,” I said, calling him on his bluff after several long, tense-for-him moments passed. And at the sound of my voice, he went still and, thankfully, quiet, re
alization dawning in his eyes.

  That realization turned to fear as I loomed over him and outright terror as I closed my fist and swung it at him. The dull thud of my fist against his midsection let me know that I’d hit the right spot. He was in pain; that much was clear, but I hadn’t injured him yet, at least not too badly, and not enough that he would lose consciousness before I’d meted out the punishment he’d earned.

  He doubled over and gripped his stomach, leaving a clear path to his kidney, one that I gladly took, delivering two rapid-fire blows that had him wailing in pain. I’d long ago inured myself to the sound of screams; they no more reached me than the background music at the supermarket, were almost another frequency of sound that I seldom even heard anymore, let alone paid attention to.

  But that his screams had no effect didn’t stop them. He wailed away until his voice went hoarse.

  I whaled away, too, slamming my fists into his abdomen, arms, face until my hands were numb and until my heart raced from the exertion. When I stopped, he let out a little whimper and then collapsed unconscious against the filthy ground.

  Another night’s work was complete.

  ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

  I left him there—if he was lucky, someone would wander by or call an ambulance, but whether that happened or not was no concern of mine—and turned the corner, swiftly putting a couple blocks’ distance between us before I slowed and found a secluded spot on a dark corner. Once there, I rummaged in my pockets for two of the essential tools of my particular trade: hand sanitizer and baby wipes.

  With a few efficient swipes, my hands were squeaky clean, and after that, I filled my palm with a generous amount of sanitizer, loving that familiar sting of the alcohol as it dried against my skin. A few of my associates—I didn’t have friends—found it odd that I always carried both, thought that maybe I was a secret germaphobe or something. That wasn’t the case; my knuckles were heavily calloused, and at this point, it would likely take a knife to pierce that rough skin, so disease was barely a faint concern, although I’d never bothered to explain that to them.