Inextinguishable Love: Firefighter and Interracial Romance

by Kathleen Bunker

“I can’t believe there wasn’t one pair of breeches.” Perceval readjusted his kilt again.

  A knock at the door stopped the revelry dead. It was closer to night than it was evening. Who’d be knocking this late let alone at all. She was the town scapegoat. This wasn’t going to be good.

  “Open it,” Roland mouthed grabbing his weapons off the bed and squeezing behind the screen with Perceval, who readjusted it to block them from the doors view.

  Alice’s heart was thumping in chest as she stepped toward to the door. Her hand closed around the nob and froze in fear. It was times like this she wished she had another way out. There was no way she could crawl out through those tiny little windows. Another knock resounded throughout the cabin and with a deep breath she opens the door. Two English soldiers stood in the door way, and she could see more flashes of red moving beyond them.

  “We are conducting a search of these premise.” He barged past Alice and entered the room before she even had time to think.

  “Husband?” the officer snapped.

  “Dead. I’m a widow, sir.” Alice tried to be as meek as possible.

  “Yes. I know what a widow is. Live on your own in this hovel?” His eyes scanned the room sizing up every inch of it. Alice wasn’t sure she liked where this conversation was headed.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What is this?” Pointing it the English uniform draped over the screen.

  “I was entertaining a fellow a few days. He went to town and never came back sir. Left his stuff here.” She nodded to the musket rifle propped up near the door.

  “Do you know aiding a deserter and having a weapon is an offense?” Despite his tone and threat, Alice didn’t sense any hatred in his voice. More indifference.

  “I didn’t know he was a deserter, sir. And you’re welcome to the weapon. Please take it, I have no use for it and the ugly thing is cluttering up the place.”

  “Ignorance is not an excuse. And it’s his majesty’s property. I don’t need your permission.” He snapped his fingers at his assistant who collected the uniform and rifle.

  “My men are in need of entertainment.”

  “I’m not sure…”

  “It’s not a request. Carter send in Gallaway.” The assistant duck out of the door and brought in a young soldier. “This young man will keep you company until we come back later. Make sure he leaves refreshed.”

  The officer marched out into the night.

  “Sorry for the intrusion ma’am. So, um, shall we get to it?” He asked walking to the bed. Roland jumped out from behind the screen and smacked him over the head with the butt of his pistol. The soldier grunt flopped down on the bed, knocked out cold.

  “I think it’s past time we left.” Precaval grabbed a bag of supplies.

  Roland rushed to the door without saying a word and flung it open. The rough looking guard standing guard outside sprung back in surprise. Roland leveled his pistol and shot the guard in the head before he could react. The shot echoed throughout the glen drawing the soldier’s attention back toward the cabin. Roland darted out into the night at break-neck speed.

  “Quick, we’ve got to follow him.” Perceval grabbed Alice’s hand and dragged her out after Roland. “Snakes always know the best rabbit warrens to hide in.”

  A round of musket fire exploded into the ground around them sending tufts of ground sailing through the air. Shouts and footsteps followed.

  “Just run, don’t look back.” Perceval chased after the distant Roland, his outline slowly began fading into the night as he sped down the side of the valley and splashed into the brook below. Roland shape slowly become more labored, stiff and slower as he hunched over clasping his wound. Perceval and Alice gained on him quickly.

  “We’re almost there.” He gasped in pain as they caught up to him.

  “Which way?” Perceval asked taking Roland’s arm and wrapping it around himself.

  “That way, at the end of the brook. There’s a tiny cave with its entrance hidden behind a tree and a bush.” The sound of the English soldiers splashing through the brook propelled them forward towards the cave.

  The entrance to the cave was practically invisible. Perceval had almost missed when he was looking for it. Roland slide sideways down the narrow, followed by Alice. Perceval looked back for pursuers and hoped he’d been fast enough not to be seen as he disappeared into the cave.

  *****

  The cave was shrouded in darkness. Alice could just barely make out the faces of Roland and Perceval. Her hands groped along the slimy hard rock surface of the cave as entered, trying to guide her passage through the darkness. She didn’t like existing in this darkness, anything could be hiding or living in here and she’d never spot it in the darkness. For some reason, the cave was unnaturally cold too, she could imagine a frost demon sleeping within.

  A hand closed on her shoulder and she jumped imagining the worst.

  “I think that’s far enough,” Roland whispered. “Be hard to find our way out without light.”

  All three sat facing the exit in total silence. Listening for the slightest sound or scuffle that signaled they had been discovered. Alice’s hands found Perceval’s and Roland’s in the dark, as she tried to draw strength from them.

  Time seemed meaningless in the cave but for what seemed like hours she could hear the soldiers outside the cave bark indistinguishable orders. With each order, she heard she thought that was it. That they had found them and tensed. It was during one of these moments Roland broke down.

  “I’m so sorry.” His whispered apology was wrecked with sobbing. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I’m such a coward. I always run.”

  “It’s fine, don’t fret.” Alice squeezed his hand. “They’ll never find this.”

  “But you don’t understand. It’s my fault. My father was right. I’m such a coward. I did it as I was a coward. It was me, I’m to blame. It was me that…” he raved madly.

  “No one blames you,” Perceval reassured him.

  “Really? You mean that?” He was almost begging.

  “Yes.”

  “Thanks.” Roland grew calmer and the cave was ushered into silence again.

  After what seemed an age, it grew quiet outside. The press of fear and the excitement of the day hit Alice all at once and she felt tired. Her head was slowly slumping forehead, her eyes closing against her will. She nestled against the cold hard floor of the cave. Perceval joined her on the floor, placing his arm under her head so she had a pillow to rest her head on. Behind her she felt Roland snuggle up to her, his arms wrapping around her body.

  Perceval’s face was so close she could make out the lines of his cheeks even in the darkness. She reached out and stroked his cheeks. His big, soft hand caressed her cheeks, and traced around her lips. Roland brushed her hair to the side and pressed his rough tickling beard against her bare nape as he kissed it softly. Perceval pressed forward and his lips met hers in the darkness. Alice loved the sensation of Roland kissing and massaging her back. The fact he was doing it as her tongue probed Perceval’s mouth made it even more special somehow. She knew she should stop it, that they may not even realize they were kissing and groping her at the same in this darkness. She reveled in the feel of being accepted completely by these two men and let it go on too long. Roland’s hands clasped around her breast just as Perceval’s hand stroked up her flat stomach to it. They’d found other hands in the darkness.

  The men paused and broke away from her body. Alice could feel them trying to penetrate the darkness to stare at each other. What had she done? Had her weakness ruined everything? Was the fragile tension between the two of them finally going to break and a fight erupt? She rolled to her back and felt like crying.

  To her surprise felt Roland hover over her, his mouth closing on hers as Perceval began kissing her neck. She basked in their warm tender caresses wondering what was going on. As they inched the top of her dress down kissing down her body she felt the passion in their kisses, and the wa
y they caressed her body. They were fighting over her but in the most untraditional and pleasurable of ways. Either one’s kisses, or moans of pleasure would spur the other one on to new and more magical ways of exploring her body. Roland, rough needy and fast, while Perceval was so soft gentle and attentive. Together they kindled a heat in her body she’d never felt before.

  She found her hands exploring each of their bodies, caressing and groping at their chests. Tickling and teasing their way up their hairy legs and slipping under their kilts. That was the best thing about kilts. She though as her hands clasped around their engorged members. You didn’t need both hands to undo a tricky clasp or buttons.

  ***

  A chorus of chirruping birds filtered into the cave dragging Alice from her slumber. She awoke to find herself nestle between the naked bodies of Roland and Perceval. A beam of golden sun-light entered the cave from the entrance giving their silhouettes a golden hue in the darkness. She still couldn’t believe that last night had really happened. The tingling afterglow pulsing through her body was a pleasant reminder that it had.

  She stood and pulled her simple wool dress over her body and crept to the mouth of the cave peering out into the glen beyond. It was empty and silent. Their pursuers had either moved to search new areas or given up.

  “Is it safe?” Roland asked his eyes transfixed on Perceval’s back with a tinge of regret.

  “Seems quiet out there.”

  “We should rest a little more,” Perceval chimed in without opening his eyes.

  “I think you’ve worn him out,” Roland joked as he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

  By the time they’d left the cave it was mid-day. They skirted the open terrain of the highlands, hugging the rocky crops or forests as there was less chance of being seen by the English Army. Once or twice Roland stopped the advance and turned back to avoid an encampment or a patrol. By time early evening had arrived Alice felt exhausted, her feet throbbed and she seriously began to doubt that they’d ever reach Inverness.

  Alice was glad when Roland led them to another cave and told them that’d camp there for the night and arrive tomorrow afternoon. She was led down and briefly fantasized about a repeat of last night before passing out.

  “Alice.” She was woken by Perceval’s gentle calls. “Here, have some meat, it’s important to keep your strength up.” Where Roland and Perceval had found the energy to hunt and cook the rabbit, she had no idea. Her whole body seemed to protest when she moved.

  “So, have you decided what you are doing after we get to town?” Alice asked Roland as they ate.

  “I have to admit there is something appealing about your fairy tale, lass. A fresh start away from everything we’ve done. Who wouldn’t want that? The thing is I’m unsure if it would change who I am or even who I want to be.”

  “You know you’re welcome to join us,” Perceval offered. “You’re not a bad person, war makes monsters of us all.”

  “Thanks.” The camp-fire descended into silence once more and Alice went back to sleep.

  ***

  They were close to Inverness. Alice had realized and they reached the town before mid-day. English soldiers bustled up and down the street keeping the townsfolk under an unflinching and repressive glare. Groups of them burst into houses dragging the Jacobite rebels into the street. Others stopped random groups searching for anything suspicious. The town’s walls were plastered with wanted posters for the leading members of the movement who’d gone underground since the spectacular loss at Culloden. The whole town felt a powder keg ready to explode.

  “Right, you two find a ship that will take you to one of the colonies. I have some business to attend to in town. Promise me you won’t leave until I find you at the docks?” Roland announced leaving the group.

  It didn’t take Alice and Perceval long to find a transport that was willing to take transport them to the colonies despite the fact they were already slightly full. Given the apparent urgency, the captain would transport them on the promise of indentured service on the other side. The best thing was that he left later on that day which meant they didn’t have to spend another day laying low.

  It was a few hours later that Roland appeared on the docks.

  “We’ve found someone with room pulling out later today. They have room for you, too,” Perceval informed.

  “Thanks, but I have to stay. I can’t leave the clan or Scotland like this. If something isn’t done we will lose everything that makes us, us. But I did get you these.” He passed across two slips of paper.

  “What’s this?” Perceval asked confused.

  “Read it,” Roland said excitedly.

  “I’ve told you before, I can’t read.” Perceval flushed a bright crimson and glanced at Alice.

  “You really can’t?” The old sullen look washed over Roland’s face. “It’s a promise of payment. Although most of my father’s holdings have been seized, there are a still a few merchants we have secret funds with. Give it to the captain as payment and you’ll arrive in your new life totally free of old ones.”

  “Thanks. I think yes. You could be free,” Perceval said.

  “Thanks,” Alice said hugging him. “I’ll miss you.”

  “You can always stay and help me,” Roland asked.

  “I can’t. I think this is something I need to do. I can’t run, I have to try.”

  Perceval and Alice boarded the ship ready to begin their new life together and Roland left to fight for his old one.

  THE END

  Another bonus story is on the next page.

  Bonus Story 5 of 44

  Interview with an Alien

  Gillian checked her reflection one last time before driving out for the interview. She felt she had to look both attractive as well as professional. She wore a blue pants suit with a white silk top underneath, highlighting her bust size without being obvious about it. It was her only tailored suit so it was made to fit her voluptuous size. She was a tall woman, five foot ten, with wide hips and large chest. Due to her height and other attributes, her chubby waist was not as noticeable and the suit helped, she thought.

  Her blond hair was past her shoulders and she had it pinned up on the sides. A lot of journalists liked to tie it up or back completely but with her plump, heart-shaped face it looked better the way she had it. Her blue eyes were clear and bright and she used little make-up, glad she had a good complexion so she could get away with that. She hated make-up.

  Satisfied, she gathered up her interview bag and went down to her car and began the drive out to the athlete’s ranch. She was still in shock she had been chosen for the job. Marcus London was the hottest running back in the NFL. Off season, he never did interviews and when he did, it was quick and fluff. She always put in for interviews with everybody, but her magazine was not Sports Illustrated. Athletes Monthly was a low key, more in-depth magazine and it was harder for them to get the big interviews. So when she got the call, she and her editor were over the moon.

  Social media was going nuts, because he was not doing any other interviews. It was her big break and she intended to make the most of it. Out of all of the people who put in the request, she was picked and London’s manager had said she was his personal choice. No television networks or other magazines were getting a shot, just her, Gillian Johnson.

  She pulled up to the ranch out in the middle of the desert and stopped at the gate. She rolled her window down and pressed the button on the gate box. The dry heat rolled into her air conditioned car. A green light blinked and the gate slowly opened for her. She drove her little Celica through the gates and followed the drive. Gillian took deep breaths to help her relax and not become too freaked out about the coming interview. It was hard because now she was on site and it was about to begin!

  Gillian pulled up to the mansion where the steps went to the front door. She got out, grabbed her bag and as she did the front doors opened. A little man in a suit came out, smiled and waved, gesturing her up the steps. Ev
en for early summer, it was hot out here in the Arizona desert, so going inside was a welcome idea. She shrugged her bag over her shoulder and went up the steps.

  “Welcome, Miss Johnson. I am glad you could make it. Marcus is a huge fan of your work and if I may say so, I am as well. My name is Lawrence Kirkpatrick. I handle all of Mr. London’s appointments,” he said, offering his hand. She shook hands and went inside the huge place with him. It was the perfect cool temperature. Not too hot and not too cold, like the fairy tale, just right.

  “It is good to meet you, Mr. Kirkpatrick. It is nice of you to say,” she responded.

  “It is only the truth, my dear. This way, please. Mr. London is out back,” he advised and led Gillian down a wide hallway that appeared to pass through the center of the mansion.

  “If I may say so Miss, your article on the dangers of concussions in the NFL was the first of the kind. Mr. London was very encouraged by it and believes you are the person who first brought it to light and made it something that people will discuss. He looks forward to talking about it with you,” Mr. Kirkpatrick told her.

  “As do I. I am glad he liked it. Most people do not remember that I wrote that. I have come to find it amusing,” she told him.

  Gillian was being honest. When the discussion became more mainstream, the credit was given to other, male, journalists. It had taken her awhile to get past being ignored like that. As she had told Kirkpatrick, these days she just thought it was amusing. Even more amusing was the fact that she was the one who got the extended interview with the reclusive running back. The hallway opened up into a wide living room area. The back wall was all glass with French doors in the exact middle. Beyond the doors was a long, covered patio and Marcus London sitting at a glass table.

  The football player got to his feet with a smile. Kirkpatrick opened the doors and waved her out graciously. Gillian strode confidently over and shook hands with the big man. Marcus London was six foot three. He wore jogging shorts and an open button up shirt. His muscular chest was well tanned as was his handsome face. As always he had his tinted glasses and trademark, black, headband. While shaking hands, she could feel a physical attraction. His maleness was a draw to her, like a magnet to her body’s senses that she had not expected. It quickly passed and she managed to control her blushing and stay focused.