by L. A. Boruff
Jack hoisted himself off the chair and ambled over a bit stiffly due to the condition of the swollen member between his legs. He knelt beside Indie, and she reached out to take hold of his contribution to her pleasure. Austin pounded her well-used flesh. Eli kissed her swollen lips. Jack and Cody caressed her overstimulated nipples while she stroked their cocks.
Dear God, this is too much. She should choose just one of them, right? Devote her full attention to only one man in a traditional relationship with hope for a future? But what kind of future did this diseased world offer? And wouldn’t it be safer under the current circumstances to surround herself with men who loved her unselfishly and would do anything for her?
The opposite fear creeped into her mind. Am I enough to keep them all happy? Would one of them eventually want to find a woman he didn’t have to share? She’d have to give herself equally to all of them.
Honestly, that sounded like a challenge she wanted to take on. Her traditional relationships had always turned dull and predictable. She’d craved a love like no other, and she’d found it.
Cody dragged his fingertips down her rigid arm. “Something wrong, Doc?”
“No.” She gave him a weak smile, using the little strength she had left to tighten her grip on him. “All this,” she glanced around at the men surrounding her, “is a bit overwhelming.” A giggle escaped on a sigh, chased by a hint of worry. “I hope I can be everything you all need.”
“No question about it, Doc.” Cody leaned down and kissed her.
The rest of the guys grunted their agreement. Austin quickened his pace while Cody and Jack swayed on their knees beside her, apparently lost in heady bliss. Even Eli relaxed, lazily stroking her shoulders.
Shared love had brought them here—their tiny piece of heaven in the midst of hell. Their relationship might not fit anyone else’s definition of perfect, but it fit them. “Oddly enough, I don’t feel guilty at all.” She loved them to the best of her ability, and would continue to do so until someone proved her wrong.
Eli smiled and kissed her cheek. “Guilt is wasted energy.”
Cody laughed. “I’m glad I spent my energy on things I should’ve felt guilty about but never cared to.” His eyes widened and he flinched. “Holy horse apples, Major!” He yelped as Austin slapped Cody’s ass.
Austin shrugged. “He deserved it.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Jack snorted.
“Fuck you,” Cody snarled back.
“Yes, you are.” Jack grinned as he and Cody reached across Indie to finish each other off, moaning in sync with Austin while he unleashed his heat in her exhausted flesh. They all tumbled on top of Indie in a panting, gasping heap.
She’d failed to summon the strength to come again, but knowing she’d reduced her men to a groaning tangle of trembling limbs satisfied her more than the countless orgasms they’d brought her to tonight. Breathless orgasms that… Crap, I can’t breathe! “You’re crushing me!”
They untangled themselves, grunting and stumbling. Indie gasped when Austin jammed a knee her ribs. He rolled off her and pulled her close, muttering an apology while he kissed her cheek. “When do I get to be in charge?”
She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. Despite his objections, she’d pretty much run the show since they’d met, countering his orders to get them to safety while she worked to save the world. But she’d lost that battle, and she didn’t know how to fight any longer. “When we’re exposed.”
A wry smile twisted his lips, still pressed to her cheek. “You’re qualified on that front too, doctor.”
“Then we’ll have to fight each other for the top position.” She rolled up on her hip and curled into him, threading her fingers in his hair as he claimed her lips.
Eli ran his fingertips along her shoulder. “Where do we go from here?”
“Who says we have to leave?” Cody sat up and caressed Indie’s thigh. “We’ve got food, shelter. We could settle here.”
Jack scowled at him. “But for how long? And what happens when someone tries to take it from us?”
“Let’s run off.” Cody changed tactics. “Go someplace tropical to wait this thing out. Hawaii is nice this time of year.”
Eli ignored him. “We need to find a research facility where Indie can do her work.”
Work. Why bother when she could fail again? Indie sighed and pulled back from Austin’s kiss. An isolated tropical paradise did sound nice. But she couldn’t run away, even as much as she wanted to. “I want to go home.” Indie sat up and rubbed her stinging eyes. “I need to find Monte.”
“I need to find out what’s happened to my sister.” Austin rose beside her, his eyes watering too. “She’s on a ranch in Wyoming. The virus couldn’t possibly spread up there.”
Eli’s audible inhale caught Indie’s attention. Jack also sniffed, and the two men exchanged frowns. “Smell that?” Eli arched an eyebrow.
Indie detected the scent too. “Smoke. But we couldn’t smell it before.” She refused to follow that information to its logical conclusion. Their blissful oasis had been a mirage.
“The wind must’ve changed direction.” Eli got up and hurried to the door.
“Which means the fire’s headed straight for us.” Cody’s eyes sparkled.
Austin rolled to his feet, but before he could issue orders, Indie beat him to it. “Get dressed. We’ve got to get out of here.” She grabbed her panties and stepped into them.
“Hold on, I’m in charge now.” Austin stood naked in the middle of the room, hands on his hips.
Indie threw his jacket at him, smacking him in the face as they all stopped and stared. “Put your clothes on!”
“You heard her.” Austin pulled the garment off his head and snarled like a major. “Pants on, gear up, and run for the truck.”
They scrambled over each other, grabbing shirts and boots, realizing they’d grabbed the wrong item and tossing it to the right guy. Indie abandoned the search for her bra and snatched her dress, buttoning it up crooked as Austin herded them all up the stairs.
Smoke filled the street, an insidious haze that creeped into every crack and crevice. Jack reached the truck first and yanked the door open, hoisting Indie into the cab. The guys piled in behind her, and Jack hopped into the driver’s seat.
He turned the key and stomped on the gas pedal. “Which way?”
“Anywhere but here.” Austin glanced back as smoke swirled around them.
The truck lurched forward. Jack directed it through hazy streets out of town on back roads, avoiding the jammed interstate.
“Eli, get the map out.” Austin dug through his backpack and pulled out his phone. “I’m going to see if I can get any news reports.” An electronic chirp sounded, and he frowned at the screen.
“You have a signal here?” Indie peeked over his arm.
“One bar, but it’s enough.” He stared sideways at her chest and grinned.
Indie glanced down and quickly re-buttoned her dress to cover an exposed breast.
Jack pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and tossed it at Cody. “Check that.”
“Battery’s completely dead.” Cody found his phone. “Mine too.” He tossed the lifeless device back in his bag.
Eli tapped at his screen then put the phone to his ear. “Voicemail from my brother.” He listened, his lips turning down as the message went on. “The Scarlet Hell has spread to Chicago,” he repeated out loud. “Over half the city is dead. Millions more infected. People are killing each other trying to get out.”
“We’re definitely not going to Chicago.” Cody pointed out the obvious.
Indie woke her phone then gasped as the screen blew up with messages. “Death threats. How did these people get my number?” She deleted them, one at a time. “Nothing from Monte.” She sighed and shoved the phone into Cody’s backpack.
“I got a text message.” Austin’s face paled, and the phone in his hand trembled.
Indie slid closer to him, but she dar
ed not look at the message. “What happened?”
“My nephew…my sister’s kid. His dad was in Houston for a stock show.” Austin’s lips whitened. “He’s scared.”
No one said a word, waiting for the worst news.
Austin swallowed hard and continued. “He’s asking for help. ‘Bring Dr. Jones. We need her.’”
Indie leaned forward and caught Jack’s eye. “We’re going to Wyoming.”
Jack nodded. “Eli, check the map. Find me a clear route.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” Austin slammed the phone face down on his leg.
“You didn’t.” Eli clapped his hand on Austin’s shoulder. “We volunteered.”
“Fuck the Scarlet Hell,” Cody snarled, lacing his fingers with Indie’s and reaching across the seat to bind them all together. “It won’t tear us apart.”
“We’re going with you, Major Tucker.” Indie tucked her free hand under Austin’s rigid bicep, drawing strength from him. “That’s an order.”
“Thank you.” He clasped his hand over hers and leaned in to kiss her.
Indie sighed and nestled in her men’s embrace. She should’ve known their escape wouldn’t last, so she filed the memories away for later use. They’d been exposed in every way except to the virus. Risking certain death to help Austin’s family came with the package. “This is where we go from here. Together. No matter what.”
Books by AJ Sinclair
In Her Company – Death’s Relentless Dance: Book 1 - books2read.com/u/4jDAvD
Under Her Covers – Death’s Relentless Dance: Book 2 - books2read.com/u/mqZNg1
With Her Heart – Death’s Relentless Dance: Book 3 - books2read.com/u/bzPX5L
Death’s Relentless Dance – The Complete Series with bonus story - books2read.com/u/38xRJV
Four men, one woman, everything to live for.
Dr. Indiana Jones has spent her life working to make the world a better place, so when the Scarlet Infection seizes Denver in its bloody, fevered grip, she fights back with her microscope. Four strong, intelligent, dangerous men help her escape the quarantine and work to find a cure. Their task is impossible and failure after failure send them spiraling into despair. But among the ruins, reckless love grows. Not just once but five times over.
As they struggle to rebuild a normal life, new threats rise up against them, forcing Indie and her former soldiers to adapt to a world without order. Death’s relentless dance has remixed their lives to a rhythm they no longer recognize. Love will survive, but what will it cost them? The time for talking is long past. Only actions matter now.
About the Author
AJ Sinclair was born with a pen in her hand and ink flowing….that’s such BS. I’m the creation of a twisted mind, the result of an imagination with too much time to fester. Eh, that’s overly dramatic too. Basically, I’m a former contemporary romance author who got bored with the typical HEA formula and decided to shake things up a bit. I write reverse harem apocalyptic romance because I want to see how love lives on when there’s nothing else to live for.
Born and raised as a loyal Wisconsin cheesehead—Go Pack Go!—I currently reside in Denver, Colorado with my geek husband, sassy soon-to-be tween daughter, and a hyper Cocker Spaniel who chews on every freaking thing she can find. And now we have a crazy cat running this zoo. It works for us.
Find me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/Amelia-James-AJ-Sinclair-1887019791546695/
One Hellova Love
A Hades and Persephone Story
Rae Tina
One Hellova Love
Everyone knows the myth of Persephone and Hades, but what if the story we believed wasn’t exactly how it seemed?
Persephone, daughter of Demeter, one of the Twelve Olympians, has a dirty little secret. And if there’s one thing her mother will not tolerate, it’s to be made a fool of. To teach her wayward daughter a lesson, Persephone’s sentenced to three months in the Underworld, but things don’t go exactly as her mother planned. Persephone has had enough of her mother’s demanding ways, and is determined to find her voice, and her freedom. And both just happen to come in a much larger package than she expected. Who knew a trip to the underworld would be so liberating?
Chapter One
My arms stretched above my head as my back arched, my body feeling boneless as I woke up from the most glorious sleep imaginable. I slowly opened my eyes to the bright early morning sun streaming in through my window. Pushing myself out of bed, I resigned myself to my fate of another dull day being something I wasn’t.
I slowly dressed in a pale blue dress, its classic Grecian style flowing gently to the floor from where it draped over my left shoulder. A braided golden belt at the waist showed off the womanly curves my mother steadfastly tried to ignore. The golden etching around the curved bodice that left my right shoulder bare brought subtle attention to my ample breasts.
Knowing I couldn’t get away with much else, I styled my hair into a simple but elegant chignon and slipped my feet into a buttery soft pair of ballet slippers. Leaving my bedroom, I navigated the familiar halls of my mother’s palace and made my way outside. The side exit I emerged from led me straight to my favorite place in our territory.
The small garden gazebo I had constructed years ago awaited me to take my seat and break my fast. Vines of climbing ivy in a bright emerald green curled around the base of the structure before transforming into beautiful lilac and wisteria that swirled around the posts playfully.
I took a seat on the curved stone bench and waited for one of my mother’s many servants to come out and bring me my feast. I knew it wouldn’t be long. She seemed to have eyes and ears all around this place.
Normally, your home was supposed to be a place you felt safe enough to be your true authentic self. Sadly, that wasn’t the case for me. Due to my mother’s place among the Olympians, I had to be on my best behavior at all times for the rest of my very long immortal life. It didn’t matter that I had a few hundred years under my belt. With my mother being one of the twelve, I had no say in the matters of my own life.
Some may call me a coward for not standing up to her, well...ever, but I’d had first-hand knowledge of what she did to those who fell from her good graces. I refused to end up like them. Daughter or not, my mother had no room in her life for embarrassment.
I remembered my first public tantrum as a child. While I couldn’t remember what it had been over, I vividly remembered what the results were. I was punished to spend a week in the solitude of my room. The windows were barred, and the door locked from the outside to stave off all possible hope for escape. I received my meals once a day through a small panel at the bottom of the door, all in an effort to reduce the amount of physical contact I received.
That was honestly one of the worst weeks of my life, mainly because it was entirely unexpected. Up until then, I’d seen my mother punish those who disobeyed her, but I always assumed I’d be free of her wrath. That day taught me that I’d never be free. If anything, she watched me more closely than anyone else when around her.
It’s why I took my darker proclivities elsewhere.
After waiting under the shade of my gazebo for longer than usual, I started to get agitated. Of course, I couldn’t show it. As mother always said, showing irritation caused wrinkles. I was of the personal belief that being a fake bitch caused wrinkles but to each her own.
Reining in my sigh of frustration, I stood from the bench and walked back in the house. The halls were unnaturally quiet for this time of day as I made my way to the dining room where my mother usually took her meals. She sat at the head of the table, her hair styled similarly to mine without a hair out of place. Whereas I had a few tendrils framing my face from where they’d flown loose from my walk to the gazebo, my mother’s dark chestnut hair was sleekly pulled back and pinned in place.
She lifted her eyes to meet mine as I took the seat to her right. Immediately, one of the kitchen staff laid a full plate in front of me with a glass of jui
ce.
“Good morning, Mother.” I lifted my glass to my lips as I waited to see what she’d say.
“Persephone,” she greeted. “You’re late for breakfast.”
I risked a quick glance at her to try and gauge her emotions. As always, she was expertly closed off as she cut into her eggs.
“My apologies. I wasn’t aware my presence was required this morning.”
“Required?” She barked a sharp humorless laugh. “Have our laws change so suddenly that eating a meal with your mother now has to be a requirement?”
I fought to keep my expression neutral, my gaze trained on my plate as I answered, “Of course not, Mother.”
“Hmph. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were mocking me.” I kept quiet. It’s not like she expected an answer. “But we both know that isn’t the case,” she finished.
Right.
Silence lorded over the table as we ate our meals with a tenseness hovering in the air. I wasn’t sure what her reasons for suddenly wanting to dine together were, but I knew they couldn’t be good. And my suspicions were confirmed as soon as the last bite of her eggs benedict slid down her throat.
A large hand roughly grabbed a good chunk of my hair and dragged me from my seat. I cried out as my hands went back to claw at the arms of whoever was assaulting me. My mother watched the scene with a shrewd, calculating gaze as she stood from her seat, only to be escorted from the room by one of her servants. The large behemoth dragged me behind them as my mother slowly strolled through the halls of our home. As if she had all the time in the world. As if my fucking hair wasn’t being ripped from its scalp by Hera only knows who.
“You really should have been more careful with whom you trusted your perversions, Daughter,” she said, each word dripping from her lips as slow as molasses. “I mean, honestly. An Oneiroi? My Goddess, Persephone, I thought I raised you better than that.”
