The Thorntons Box Set

by Nic Saint

  “Yeah, tell that to Alicia. She told me you guys made out on the boat, on the plane and in every room of the house.” She wiped away her tears. “And our house got a lot of rooms, Ro.”

  He arched one eyebrow. “She told you that? Damn. So it is true what they say about women.”

  “They love hot sex?”

  “They talk too much.”

  “As sex goes, the sex with Jackson was pretty hot, too, actually.”

  “Um, Chloe? If you don’t mind, could we change the subject? Talking about sex with my baby sister? Feels a bit icky to me.”

  “Says the man who supposedly made out with me in Central Park.”

  “Yeah, well. You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the papers.”

  “Too true,” she said softly, eyeing him tenderly. “I love you, you know that?”

  “Right back atcha, honey.” He suddenly narrowed his gaze and adjusted his rearview mirror. “What the hell?”

  “Don’t tell me,” she mocked. “Are we being followed?”

  Then the sound of a police siren became audible and she turned to see what was going on. As she watched the police cruiser quickly close the distance between them, she squinted. Then, as she recognized the driver, let out a soft cry.

  “Jackson?” murmured Roland, slowing the car and easing it onto the shoulder. “What does he want?”

  A surge of excitement suddenly held Chloe in its grip, and she blinked in wonder. Could it be?

  The moment the car came to a stop, she ran out and up to the other car. The moment she came face to face with the sturdy police chief, she halted in her tracks, uncertain how to proceed. He was eyeing her sternly, his face betraying no emotion.

  “Jackson?” she tried feebly.

  “What is it, Chief?” Roland’s voice rang out behind her. He’d rolled down the window. “Did you forget something?”

  “Yes,” grunted the policeman. Then he inclined his head to Chloe, and added softly, “You.”

  Chapter 30

  Jackson stood staring at Chloe and thought she’d never looked more beautiful. His heart was so full that he could hardly find the words to express how he felt about her. Regardless, he trudged ahead.

  “Look, Chloe. I know I’ve been a cad and a bounder these last few days. I tricked you into moving in with me under the pretense I needed a business partner, when all I wanted was you. To share my home and my life and… my bed. I realize that a sophisticated woman like you isn’t used to spending her life out in the sticks with hillbillies like me, and when you went off and had your… tryst with Ty I understood that even more.

  “The thing is—and I should have told you this a long time ago—I love you, Chloe Thornton. I loved you when we were kids and I was too chicken to tell you. And I fell in love all over again on the boat and I was still too chicken to let you know that… I need you. I love you. I want you.”

  He heaved a deep sigh, glad he’d managed to get all that out in one gulp.

  “I know you don’t feel the same way about me and that’s fine, but I couldn’t let you leave without telling you how I felt. Anyway.” He touched his imaginary cap and started backtracking toward the car. “Have a nice trip, and—”

  To his surprise, Chloe was wringing her hands and tears had appeared in her eyes. He took a step closer to her. “Oh, honey. There’s no need to cry. I just—I just—” He faltered, finally words failing him. He’d never been very good with them anyway.

  “Jackson,” she began, then stopped, tears now flowing freely. “Oh, Jackson.”

  “Goddammit, woman!” Roland hollered from the car. “Just tell him already!”

  A sob escaped her lips and she didn’t know how it happened but suddenly she was in his arms and he was holding her tight, tenderly wiping away the tears from her eyes with his thumb. “Jackson,” she breathed, her eyes swimming. “I love you.”

  “Finally,” grumbled a voice behind them.

  And then he was kissing her and—oh, miracle of miracles—she was kissing him right back. And then they were laughing and crying and kissing some more, and finally Roland boomed, “Take care of her, Chief, or I’ll be back to whoop your ass, you hear me?”

  Jackson merely saluted Roland, and together they watched him drive off, his arm held out the window in a goodbye salute.

  Chloe turned to him and whispered, “Can you ever forgive me, Jackson?”

  “Only if you’ll forgive me for being such a jackass,” he countered, “and allowing my girl to be taken for a ride by my asshole brother.”

  She smiled through her tears. “Deal, Chief Rappaport.” She pushed at her glorious curls, then, and breathed, “Can we go home now?”

  Before they made it to the front door, she’d already half shrugged out of her blouse while he’d had his shirt practically torn from his body by a frantic Chloe.

  She watched as the playful light had appeared in his eyes again, and had only stopped kissing him when he’d practically slammed into Mrs. Parker. The old woman had given them the evil eye and Jackson had sheepishly confessed it wasn’t the first time he’d almost ridden her over.

  They made it to the front door and stumbled inside in a tangle of half stripped off clothes and hot kisses, and when they landed on the hallway floor, Jackson had the good sense to kick the door closed with his foot before she removed the rest of her clothes and helped him out of his. And then his hot hands were on her breasts, palming her nubile protuberances, swelling neatly under the heat of his touch, and she gasped as he tugged her nipples and pulled her down on top of him. She straddled him, then, and left a wet trail along his belly, her cunt leaking like crazy with readiness. And when he took a firm grip on her thighs and directed her wide-open cunt over his mouth she cried out in relish when his tongue speared her and he drank greedily from her nectar, sucking at her center, swirling his tongue along her clit and pressing her labia apart with his fingers before plunging deep inside her with the thick of his tongue splaying her and causing her almost to come.

  She leaned back as his tongue continued its devilishly delicious work and she craned her neck and found herself face to face with his towering erection, droplets of pre-cum dribbling freely from the tiny slit in his glans.

  Eagerly, she took his cock in her mouth and slashed her tongue along the rim of his cockhead, then let herself be speared onto his rod and started milking him with the dual onslaught of her hands and mouth, and only when he cried out and she felt him swell under her fingers did she stop, wanting to prolong the pleasure—wanting all that hot juice to pump into her cunt instead.

  She quickly mounted him, lowering herself onto his cock, and when he pierced her sex, she whispered his name, the words of love on his lips as hot and plentiful as hers. And as she rode him at a steady clip, she felt him stir the inner depths of her core, his tip darting sweet kisses along her cervix.

  She placed her hands on his hairy chest, the rock he was to her right under her clenching and unclenching fingers. And when he reared up and took possession of her tits, sucking them in deep, first the one, then the other, then cupping them in his hands as if they were the most precious jewels he’d ever seen and touched, she felt the shivers well up in her belly, then spread out across her core and finally rocketing through her entire body. She screamed loudly with her orgasm before his kiss wiped the scream from her lips and their tongues danced their intoxicating dance.

  Then it was his turn to scream and as his thick creamy sperm flowed into her womb, roiling and boiling and swirling round her inner sanctum—filling her precious womanhood with his life-giving seed—she collapsed on top of his chest, her face nestling against the column of his neck, and she whispered, “Jackson. I love you.”

  “I love you, Chloe.”

  A smile spread across her face as she felt his warmth spread throughout her belly and then touch her heart. For the first time in her life, she was in love. Truly, deeply in love, and she kissed him deeply.

  “Marry me,” he whispered against
her lips. “Marry me, Chloe.”

  “On one condition,” she whispered back.

  “Anything.”

  She stared at the hallway dresser. “That you let me redecorate your house.”

  “Our house,” he corrected.

  “Our house,” she amended with a smile.

  Our house, she thought. That it was. After living at home for the first part of her life she’d finally be able to make a house her home. Her very own home.

  THE END

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  William

  A Thornton Family Novel - Book 4

  Nic Saint

  Chapter 1

  “So? What are you going to do about this?”

  The woman looked at him with so much scorn that Will shivered. Working the jewelry department in Thornton’s Fifth Avenue flagship store was definitely not one of the more pleasant jobs he’d ever held. Not that it mattered. He wouldn’t be here for more than another day. Tops.

  “I’ll see to it that the item is on backorder, ma’am,” he said with as much professional courtesy as he could muster.

  Apparently it wasn’t enough, for the woman’s eyes widened in horror. “Backorder? Young man!” She came very near to stomping her foot, Will saw, and he was amazed that people actually still did that kind of temper tantrum thing. “I want that necklace and I want it now. I saw it here yesterday and thought it would be perfect for the Diamond Jubilee.”

  Yesterday was, of course, a long time ago, and another customer had probably snatched up the trinket. Inwardly, he sighed. How was he going to get out of this one alive and with the customer’s trust in and loyalty to Thornton’s perfectly intact? He knew he wouldn’t, but he trudged on regardless. “I’m ever so sorry, Mrs. Rodder, but as I explained to you, we don’t have that particular necklace on display at this particular juncture.”

  He thought for a moment her lip would actually start to tremble, but she controlled herself with an extreme effort. “Well!” she squeaked, and this time she did stomp her foot. “You’ve given me no other choice but to speak to your supervisor. What is your name, young man?”

  “Will Harris, Mrs. Rodder,” he said deferentially, “and I’m afraid I am the supervisor.”

  Her perfectly penciled eyebrows rose. “You? The supervisor? But you’re so terribly… young!”

  Will pursed his lips and rocked back on his heels. “Thank you, ma’am. Now if I may suggest a different necklace instead of the one you desired?” With the flourish of an expert magician, he spirited a fresh bauble from beneath the counter and laid it out for the irate Countess Rodder, who still stood regarding him with hardly concealed fury.

  Then her imperious gaze shifted from his youthful face to the item on display. First she frowned, and her head moved to indicate her displeasure, but then she seemed to think better of it and gave the item a more thorough examination. Turning to one of her lackeys, a spindly young man with supercilious eye, she intoned haughtily, “Jacques? What do you think?”

  The Jacques in question strolled up to the desk, gave Will a cursory glance, then took in the necklace, all twenty-four karat gold and one hundred karat diamonds of it. He seemed surprised that Thornton’s could produce a necklace of this quality, for he leaned in closed for a second look, hardly believing his eyes.

  “Mh. Not bad,” he finally concluded his examination. “Myes. Not bad at all.”

  The countess, head held high, looked down at Will and smirked. “It seems this will do, young man. You may make your superiors happy. You have just made a sale to the Countess Rodder.”

  Thank God, groaned Will, outwardly perfectly composed. When his brother Scott had asked him to evaluate the Thornton sales experience, he really hadn’t known what was in store for him. Now that he did know, he was appalled and horrified at the kind of abuse the sales staff had to endure on a daily basis.

  Not to mention the damage to his feet and lower back.

  “Very well, Countess,” he supplied with his most dazzling smile. “I’m pleased to have been of service.”

  Without another word, the countess swept from the floor, leaving Jacques behind to take care of the more mundane aspects of acquiring a piece of jewelry. Accepting a platinum card from the man, Will went through the motions of ringing up the trinket and charging the credit card.

  It was at this moment that he watched another customer accost the perfectly coiffed and tailored Jacques and throw him a punch that laid the huffy assistant out cold in two seconds flat.

  Not accustomed to this kind of rough work on the Thornton Fifth Avenue sales floor, Will stood speechless for a moment, then shot from behind the safety of the desk and up to the fallen man.

  The assailant, meanwhile, rather than making a run for it, as would be advisable under the circumstances, stood gloating as he stared down at his victim, clenching and unclenching his hands.

  “What did you do!” yelled Will, feeling rather unequal to the situation.

  “Don’t worry, buddy,” spoke the amateur boxer soothingly. “He merely got what he deserved.”

  For a moment, Will didn’t know whether to apprehend the man as he waited for security to show up, or to try and assess the damage done to his customer. Then he decided that Scott would expect him to wrestle down the man responsible for this atrocity, and with a loud cry, he sprang up like a tiger spotting a particularly juicy gazelle, and hurled himself at the assailant.

  The man clearly hadn’t seen this coming, for he uttered a startled “Eh, what?” and went down like a ton of bricks, a frantic Will firmly attached to his collar. With a supreme effort, he managed to wrestle the man to the floor, face down, and, planting his knee in the small of his back, took a firm grip on his wrists and held them together, looking around for something to tie them up with.

  He felt it simply wasn’t fair that as he was in need of a pair of manacles, it seemed about the only item Thornton’s didn’t carry. Then his eyes flicked to the necklace he’d absentmindedly shoved into his shirt pocket, and for a moment he wavered.

  Should he? Or shouldn’t he?

  At that moment, his quarry made a sudden move, and managed to pull one hand free and sling it at Will’s face in a desperate attempt to make him see the error of his ways.

  Will didn’t hesitate. With a grunt, he once again took possession of the wayward arm and used the necklace to tie the man’s hands together. It wasn’t exactly a pair of police handcuffs, but Thornton’s prides itself in the quality it provides, and the necklace did the trick just fine.

  “There,” he panted, and stood up, wiping a feverish hand across his bedewed brow. Only now did he notice his actions had attracted the attention of a wide swath of the store’s customer base, who now all stood gathered around, observing his ‘citizen’s arrest’ with keen interest.

  “Don’t worry!” he belted out, holding up his hands in a gesture of reassurance. “Everything is under control!”

  This statement would have been true, if at that precise moment Countess Rodder hadn’t made a comeback. Probably wondering what took her slave so long, she’d come sauntering up, a bored expression on her face. The moment she saw the blood on Jacques’s face, though, that expression abruptly turned into one of terror.

  She expelled a blood-curdling scream that startled Will and scared the pants off a good deal of his clientele, for they all started mimicking the countess and emitting screams of their own.

  “It’s—It’s all under control!” once again hollered Will, but it was too late. Panic had set in, and now the mass had it firmly into its collective nut that a murder had been committed, the bloody face of Jacques a clear testament to the crime. And shoppers of high-end department stores may be a lot of things, but they’re not accustomed to being involved in
a violent crime.

  The prospect of being interrogated by a rugged officer of the law in connection with this crime was clearly too much for them, and as a body they all fled to the stairs that led to the ground floor and then to the exit. Within seconds, Will once again found himself alone.

  And then he suddenly found that he wasn’t alone any longer, for a young woman of attractive aspect had joined him. Staring from her security guard costume to her pretty face and back, he announced, “Hi. I’m Will. Harris. And you are?”

  She didn’t smile, her professional code of conduct strictly prohibiting smiling on the job, and then her eyes traveled from the man to the two victims he was presiding over and her scowl deepened. “You’re under arrest, buddy. Step away from the bodies and hold your hands where I can see them.”

  He smiled, the humor of the situation not escaping him. “I see what you mean, Miss…”

  Instead of supplying him with her name, she produced a rather dangerous-looking gun and pointed it at his face. “Hands up, and I won’t tell you again.”

  With some trepidation, he raised his hands, then expelled the deep sigh he’d been holding inside. “You’re making a big mistake, honey.”

  For the first time he discovered that she could smile, for she did so now. She shook her head slowly. “Nope. You made the mistake. And now you’re going to pay for it.”

  Chapter 2

  Kelley eyed the man with unveiled curiosity. He was tall, handsome and dangerous, she reckoned. A glimpse had been enough to apprise her of those facts. Other facts, though maybe not featuring as highly on the list as the others: he had the most remarkable green eyes she’d ever seen, and his dark hair fell loosely across his brow, which struck her as another sign of danger.