We hopped on the train before the sun was up, and we were halfway to South Dakota by noon. How long would it take for them to realize Kyla was gone? How long after that before they figured she was taken? As far as we knew, they were already freaking out, looking for her. We had no way of knowing either way.
And then what would happen with the whole Black Knight scandal? Would the government be forced to admit the truth with Kyla and I out of the picture? Would they keep trying to cover their tracks.
Or was there never a Black Knight, never a raid in Al-Nukhib, never a roadside bombing in Iraq? Maybe that Meraux never existed. Maybe he was just an idea, some fucked up ideology. But why?
Maybe, high up in the military ranks, there was someone just like Sammy Boy, weaving complex scandals to make life seem more interesting than it really was. Maybe the Black Knight was just pipe insulating-foam, rigged with wires and light bulbs, being held over Al-Nukhib by some spray-painted kite. Wouldn’t that be something?
Whatever was going to happen, once we were out of Kansas, it didn’t even cross on our minds. If it had, we probably wouldn’t have fucked like damned rabbits all the way from Nebraska to the Canadian border.
I think Liam was right. People can change. Liam changed. Kyla changed.
And it occurred to me while I was fucking Kyla from behind, listening to her tits slapping together with each penetration, that even I changed. I kind of liked the idea of only fucking Kyla for the rest of my life. It didn’t hurt that she was the only girl I’d ever met that couldn’t just handle my cock. Not only that, she actually loved being slammed raw by the thing.
But was I changed? Or was that always what I’d wanted? Hell, I had a great time fucking half of Nintipi. It was a scary thought, leaving that all behind.
Kyla pushed herself off of my cock and rolled onto her back. She spread her thick, beautiful legs wide. “Hold them,” she said. I did.
It was the same exact position I’d fucked her in five years before. Judging by the sly smile on her face, she knew it too. “Fuck me,” she said. So I did. I watched her eyes slowly roll into the back of her head. I felt the warm juice swell up in her pussy, ready to gush as soon as I pulled out.
Fuck Nintipi and fuck all the other girls. Kyla was all I ever wanted and there wasn’t any sweeter pussy out there. There was something else about her, too. Something I couldn’t quite place. She made me feel warm, safe. My whole life, I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. I didn’t feel that way with Kyla. It was the strangest feeling.
Shit, I guess I loved her.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR CORDELIA BLANC
Cordelia Blanc is a writer from the beautiful Rocky Mountains of Canada. Her schooling years were spent absorbed in fantasy, writing everything from screenplays and comic books to short stories and overly ambitious novels.
Cordelia moved west to British Columbia where she worked for years in film, using the little free time she had on her writing. Her stories aim to capture the spirit of the prairies, the Pacific North West, and the Rockies. Cordelia doesn’t believe in good guys and bad guys, because every real human being is both.
While not writing, Cordelia enjoys relaxing by the fire and watching cheesy horror movies with her husband.
Please leave a review letting me know what you thought of my book. I am always striving towards making my work better and better.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
NAVIGATOR
*
PART ONE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
TABLE OF CONTENTS CONTINUED
NAVIGATOR
*
PART TWO
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
GAGE: A Bad Boy Military Romance Page 34
