The Thorntons Box Set

by Nic Saint

  “Who are you, actually?” she said a little gruffly. She didn’t like all this babble about Roland being a Mafia don. “Are you like a little sidekick or something? Like Tonto to the Lone Ranger?”

  The young man drew himself up to his full height, which was a little hard since he was still sitting on the bank of the river. “I’ll have you know I’m nothing of the kind. I’m a freelance reporter, and this is my biggest story ever. The one that will make or break me.”

  “Break you, most likely,” she said a little nastily.

  “The moment I turn in this story, Harlan de Montesquieu is history. If that man doesn’t go to jail, along with all his flunkies in the government I’m not the reporter I know I am.”

  “Is that what this is all about? Revenge on this de Montesquieu guy? And here I thought you were actually fighting for a good cause or something.”

  “Putting de Montesquieu behind bars is a good cause, Alicia,” he stressed. “He’s not just the guy sponsoring Bashar’s operation, he’s also the one who tried to destroy Roland’s reputation by publishing those pictures.”

  “Pictures? What pictures?”

  Kevin rolled his eyes. “I can see you’ve been out here too long. Some PI shot some pictures of Roland making whoopee in Central Park. Girl turned out to be his sister Chloe. The scandal was all over the Internet, the newspapers… Roland had to resign from the company, leaving his father heartbroken. I hear it nearly killed the old man. His mother too.”

  Alicia eyed the young man with a horrified expression. “That’s impossible. His… sister?”

  Kevin nodded morosely. “Yup. Roland’s been laying low since, and his sister’s gone into hiding.”

  She shook her head, the shock of this revelation too much to bear. “I don’t believe it. I really don’t believe a word you’ve just said.”

  “It’s all too true, unfortunately.” Suddenly he seemed to realize something, and he clasped her arm. “D-don’t breathe a word about this to Roland, will you? He’d kill me if he knew I told you. No, really. He would.”

  “I won’t tell,” she said absently, her thoughts a welter of conflicting emotions. She really couldn’t believe Roland was capable of such a thing. He seemed like such a stand-up guy, and hadn’t he told her he was a one woman kind of person? Holding off on tying the knot until he’d found the one woman for him? The one he’d stay with for the rest of his life? So was that woman… his own sister? His own flesh and blood?

  She shook her head despondently. She had to know—she had to find out—the sooner the better. She now noticed Kevin’s gaze hadn’t wavered—he was staring at her intently.

  “Really, Alicia,” he said softly. “Don’t mention it. He’ll never forgive me if you do.”

  She nodded her assent, but vowed to find out what had really transpired that day in the park as soon as possible. She simply had to know…

  Chapter 12

  “I don’t believe it,” murmured Roland as he checked around the bridge of the small boat. He’d had to duck to fit through the door and now that he saw the mess that was the wheelhouse, he wondered how this Raymond guy ever managed to get this ship all the way to Guatamore and back in one piece. “What a piece of junk—” he began, but then noticed he wasn’t alone.

  “She may not be much to look at,” Pablo intoned, “but she flies like a bat outta hell once she gets going.”

  “She does, huh?” Roland said dubiously. He had his doubts.

  Pablo frowned. “At least, that’s what Raymond claims.”

  “Uh-huh?” He liked to believe the math professor’s newly acquired ’housekeeper’ but feared the worst. “Guess we don’t have much choice in the matter.” By now Bashar must have warned his men, and soon the banks of the river would be swarming with heavily armed and seriously pissed-off goons gunning for them. They needed to get this wreck going and they needed it now.

  He didn’t look up when Alicia joined them, only briefly inquired, “Kevin on board?” When she responded in the affirmative, he cocked an eyebrow and pushed the start button. After a few awkward coughs, the engine finally roared to life and he heaved a sigh of relief. So far so good.

  “Perhaps we can pick up Raymond while we’re there,” suggested Pablo after Roland had briefly popped out to release the mooring line from its makeshift bollard and returned to open the throttle and steer the boat into the middle of the river.

  “Sure,” he said absently. He’d noticed Alicia had been staring at him for the better part of the last five minutes without speaking a word. He now realized she must still be suffering from the shock of what had happened to her back at the cabin. He gestured to Pablo to take the wheel. “Just keep her in the middle of the river is all.”

  “Sure,” said the man briefly as a smile crept up his face. It was obvious Raymond had never handed him the wheel before.

  He turned to Alicia and placed a hand to the small of her back, gently steering her up a small set of iron stairs to the deck. They ambled over to the stern and looked out across the river, a cool breeze providing much-needed refreshment. Dusk was falling, and the sun had descended beyond the trees, the surrounding jungle awash with a violet shimmer, an eerie hush descending upon the world.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked softly. “If you’re still worried about Bashar, I think we’re fine for now. We’ll be in Guatamore in a couple of hours and he’ll never find us once we arrive.”

  She gazed out into the distance, carefully avoiding his eyes.

  “Is this about your dad?” he tried another tack. “I can assure you I’ll do everything within my power to find him. Trust me. I have my ways.”

  Alicia slowly turned to face him. She didn’t even know where to begin asking him the questions that burned in her mind. He was such a kind man, she now saw. How could she upset him by asking him about a part of his life he didn’t want to be reminded of?

  When he placed a gentle hand on her waist, she briefly trembled, and when that hand slowly traced an arc to her left buttock, her throat constricted as a sudden fire raged through her, burning up all resistance she’d built up over the last hour.

  Don’t get involved with this man, every fiber of her being had shouted. Stay away from him—far away. But when she was this close to him—his hand palming the soft globe of her ass, she felt that familiar heat stir inside, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist him if he pressed on.

  There was something about him—something majestic and larger than life that both scared the living daylights out of her and stoked her arousal to new and unfamiliar heights. She wanted him, that much was certain, but could she ever make love to a man who was in love with his own sister? That was fucked up on so many levels, she didn’t know whether to run away from him or hurl her agony right in his face.

  When he turned her to him and his lips unexpectedly descended upon hers, she was powerless to fight the urges of her flesh, and all thought of impropriety and the need for self-preservation left her mind, only to be replaced by the sudden hush of yearning—that age-old pull of skin on skin, and she parted her lips, eagerly inviting him in.

  He kissed her deeply, and when his tongue crashed on hers, licking his way into her, she moaned softly and pressed herself up against him, her hands twining of their own accord behind his powerful neck, and her boobs mashing against his chiseled chest, all her softness yielding to his hardness.

  She reeled when he released her, then followed him meekly as he took her by the hand and led her below deck. Her breath came in rapid bursts as she realized she was going to be his—they were going to make love for the first time, and it was everything she wanted and yet, she couldn’t—she shouldn’t.

  She briefly struggled against her own urge, her knees weak and her heart pounding so hard in her chest she thought he must hear it, but then he opened a cabin door and led her inside, and she was draping herself across a small cot and he was descending upon her, his dark eyes hypnotizing her and she didn’t resist when he slowly started rem
oving first her shirt, then her slacks, and when she was naked and gazing up at him in anxious anticipation, she thought to hell with the consequences.

  She wanted him and he wanted her and that was all that mattered.

  Chapter 13

  With a soft hush, she expelled her breath when his lips took possession of her breast, sucking in her brown nipple. Fisting her hands in his thick, dark hair, she pressed herself against his mouth, her ample flesh shivering to his touch as he devoured her eagerly. Clasping her other breast, he briefly squeezed her erect nipple between his fingers, then descended and grabbed her bosom in his hands as his mouth traced a path to her nether region, her belly slick with sweat. The moment he reached her hairy vulva, she realized in horror she hadn’t shaved. A sophisticated man like Roland Thornton, used to the pleasures of the city, must think her a girl from the outback, she thought with a shock.

  But then he used his powerful fingers to open her cunt like a chalice and drank deeply from its contents, visibly relishing in both her shape and taste, and she relaxed, allowing herself to be taken by this man. As he caressed the contours of her labia with his fingers, then slowly arched a finger inside her wet sex, pushing in deeper, she slammed her head back against the pillow, and grabbed her own tits, massaging them under her supple fingers.

  He stared up at her, watching the scene as it added to his building arousal and when he pressed his tongue deeply between her folds, he thought he’d never seen a sexier sight than Alicia Sumner, and he grabbed her buttocks in his hands and splayed her crevice with the thick of his tongue. He didn’t care that her pubic hair tickled his nostrils, in fact he relished in the sensation and her musky scent.

  Most women he’d known—brief dates scattered over the years—had groomed their pussy to the point of sterility and had taken the art of cleanliness to such an extreme he didn’t think he’d ever really smelled woman on them the way he smelled it on Alicia.

  Now here was a real woman he thought as he reveled in her sex, who wasn’t afraid to be who she was, and he loved her for it. As he crouched between her thighs for more, he felt his cock stir, erect and hard to the point of pain, and when he placed his thick cockhead at the entrance to her vagina, he stretched out on top of her, gently kissing her lips, then her neck and tracing a path along the hollow of her throat to the place under her earlobe.

  And as he moved up, he felt his cock splay her pussy lips, and as he gently bucked his hips, he was entering her, gauging her response, and when a slow smile spread across her lips and she heaved a sigh of delight, he pushed in deeper, rolling his cock along the slick walls of her cunt until he was buried all the way inside her, as if they were meant for each other—made for each other.

  “Fuck me, Roland,” she murmured against his lips, and when his tongue arched against hers and they kissed deeply, he rolled into her a little faster and a little deeper, his buttocks tensing and relaxing as he fucked her sweet pussy over and over again.

  She nibbled his ear, then, and made soft whimpering sounds at the back of her throat until he upped the tempo and stirred the deepest core of her, and when she cried out in relief and ecstasy, he eased all the way out, and released his cum on her heaving belly, slick with their sweat, mixing his cum with her juices in the cradle of her belly button, and then they both laughed and kissed and laughed some more, and finally nuzzled against each other, arms slapped wetly around heaving bodies.

  “Do you know this is the first time I’ve been with a man in over a year?” she whispered as he kissed her brow.

  “Let’s not wait another year for the next time,” he murmured.

  “Will there be a next time?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  She was silent for a beat, then her eyes drifted to the small circular window, and she felt she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Roland?”

  “Mh?”

  “Kevin told me… about Chloe.”

  She could feel him stiffen against her, and for a moment she thought he would fly off the handle and kick her away from him, but then he rolled over on his back, put an arm under his head and regarded her steadily. “What did he tell you?”

  “That you and Chloe were photographed… kissing in Central Park,” she whispered, fearful of his response.

  A lazy smile spread across his features, and it was both the last thing she’d expected, and a weight off her heart. “That boy talks entirely too much,” he grunted, before sighing deeply. “I better tell you the whole story, darling. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, how you even wanted to sleep with me after hearing Kevin’s tale…”

  She laced her fingers in the soft hairs of his chest. “I guess I hoped it wasn’t true.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” he groaned. “It is true. Only there’s more to the story than meets the eye.”

  She swallowed a little convulsively, fearing the worst once again. “Tell me.”

  “First of all, there’s something you need to know about my family—something you mustn’t tell a soul.” He eyed her intently. “Promise?”

  Huskily, she said, “Promise.”

  “Chloe and I, we’re not really brother and sister. I’m Jack’s son, that part is true, but Chloe isn’t. She found out a couple of years ago, and the truth distraught her a great deal. It took her a long time to come to terms with the fact that she’d been adopted. Around about that time, she developed this crush on me—we’re talking eight, ten years ago—and knowing I wasn’t related to her by blood, decided to pursue me for reasons only known to her.

  “I was gentle with her once she told me, deciding to let her down easy. She was, as far as I was concerned, and had always been, my sister. I didn’t care if she was adopted or not, and neither did my parents or any of our four brothers. That day in the park, I’d just explained to her I didn’t feel about her that way. That I loved her as a sister. Nothing more. Nothing less. She didn’t accept my response at first, and decided to test me by throwing herself around my neck and pressing a kiss on my lips. She was only a teenager then, remember, and not a little rebellious.

  “As gently as I knew how, I disentangled her and set her straight. Told her never to do that again for it might hurt and diminish who we were as siblings. I think she got it, and we never discussed the matter any further. Unfortunately, some tourist must have snapped our picture, and years later Harlan de Montesquieu managed to get his filthy hands on it.”

  Listening to the story, Alicia experienced a spreading sensation in her chest, as if a weight that had been pressing on her heart had suddenly been lifted. She felt for Chloe now so much that it was as if she knew her. “Oh, God.”

  “Chloe went into hiding, and I voluntarily resigned from all my positions at Thornton.”

  “You could have told the story to the world.”

  “No, I couldn’t,” he countered. “It’s none of anyone’s business that Chloe was adopted or that she used to have a crush on me. How do you explain a thing like that? It’s impossible without hurting Chloe all over again. Besides, who would believe us?” He shook his head resignedly. “No, the damage is done and can never be undone. You know how the world is.”

  She nodded miserably. She did know how the world was. They’d rather believe a sordid lie than the inconvenient truth. “I’m so sorry, Roland. And poor Chloe!”

  “She’ll be fine,” he muttered, and she could see how much the affair had affected him. Now she understood the fire raging inside him to lay his hands on Harlan de Montesquieu. He sighed and closed his eyes. “We just have to ride out the storm and hope this will all blow over in the end.”

  She felt a sudden resolve surge in her bosom and gave it expression by hugging herself close to him. “I’ll help you any way I can. Any way, Roland.”

  He gave her the sweetest smile and pressed a tender kiss on her lips, then held his hand against her cheek. “Thanks, Alicia. That means a great deal to me.”

  She nodded, a tear stealing from her eye as she drowned in his beautiful dark e
yes, now filled with so much gratitude and tenderness.

  She almost couldn’t believe it, but she suddenly felt such an overwhelming urge to be with this man—stand by his side—share his life and his bed—that it took her breath away.

  With a pang of concern, she realized she was falling for Roland Thornton, and falling hard.

  Chapter 14

  “I just think we should be hurrying back to civilization as fast as possible, not play houseboat on this… boat.”

  Roland eyed his compatriot narrowly. The reporter was obviously getting cold feet. “Who’s playing houseboat, buddy? We’re taking her to max speed as it is. Faster will probably fry the engine.”

  Kevin raked a nervous hand through his wild mane as he steered the boat down the middle of the river, just like Roland had instructed. “I have a sneaking suspicion we haven’t seen the last of Bashar’s men.” He pounded the wheel. “Is this really the fastest this fricking barge travels? I can outrun this thing with my old tricycle for Christ’s sakes!”

  “We’re quite safe,” assured Roland. “No one knows where we are and Alicia told me there are no roads leading down to the river at this point. They simply can’t reach us.”

  Kevin rolled his eyes skeptically. “Which doesn’t mean they won’t be waiting for us downstream. For all we know they might have raised an army to shoot us to smithereens.”

  Roland had given this some thought as well. “They might,” he agreed.

  Kevin gestured wildly for a few seconds at this concession. “You knew? And all this time you’re playing hide the salami with Little Miss Hot Pants?”

  Roland cocked an eyebrow. “Hide the salami?”

  “Yeah, you know. Nookie. Slap and tickle. The horizontal bop. Sexual intercourse!”