Read The Billionaire’s Valiant Rescue Online
Authors: Nic Saint
Natasha nodded absentmindedly, then focused her attention on Jack again with some effort. “I’m sorry, Jack. I-I didn’t know.”
“Well, now that you do, I’d appreciate you not sharing this information with anyone, you hear me?”
“I won’t, Jack. You have my word.” Then she amended, “Well, except Gracie, of course. She has to be told.”
Jack held up a hand. “Please. Don’t tell her. It will destroy her.”
“You took care of that, Jack. A little bit more won’t do any more harm than you already did.”
He gazed at Natasha in desperation. “No, please. Keep this between us. Gracie cannot know.”
“She has to know!” declared Natasha with some heat.
“What do I need to know?” suddenly rang out a voice from the entrance.
Jack jerked his head in the direction of the speaker, whom he’d instantly recognized as Gracie.
“Jack has a secret,” announced Natasha, “that he doesn’t want to share with you.”
Gracie strode into the room, crossing over to the couch to sit next to her friend. “Don’t tell me. You’re my brother, right?”
Jack was flabbergasted by this statement, but more so by its cool delivery. Gracie’s face, normally so lively, was a mask of control.
“How-how did you find out?” was all he could manage.
“My mother told me the whole story tonight.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “My dad told me the day you came to see me. That’s why...” He swallowed, the sight of her overwhelming his senses. She looked so beautiful, so delicate and refined. The rest and time spent with her family had clearly done her well. The unhealthy pallor that had dominated her features was gone, and her cheeks had a roseate glow.
“That’s why you dumped me?”
“I didn’t dump you, honey. I just couldn’t—”
“What happened here?” Gracie interrupted. She looked over at her friend. “Did you sleep with him?”
Natasha’s smile was warm and full of mirth. “He didn’t want to. Said he was still in love with you.”
Gracie’s mask seemed to crack at this. She blinked several times. “You... You’re in love with me, Jack?”
“I am,” he said miserably. “But it’s impossible. We’re brother and sister.”
She slowly shook her head. “No, we’re not.”
“But we are. My dad told me—”
“Your dad doesn’t know the whole story. My mother had an affair. With a well-known painter. And that’s when I was born.” For the first time, a smile appeared on Gracie’s lovely face. “We’re not related, Jack, you and I. We’re just... two people... who accidentally met when you saved my life.”
Jack felt his head spin. “What are you saying? That my father—”
“Isn’t
my
father.” Turning to her friend, she added under her breath, “Bruno Gartner is. And if you mention this to anyone, I’ll be forced to break your legs.”
Natasha squealed with delight at this piece of information. Then, sobered by a penetrating look from Gracie, quickly said, “I’ll be in my room if you need me. Or rather,” she added after a meaningful stare, “I think I’ll go and stretch my legs. Walk off five mint juleps.” She quickly tip-toed to the exit, and after a whispered, “See you, Jack. Nice to meet you,” she disappeared out the door.
“I behaved abominably,” spoke Jack, feeling like an absolute fool. “I should have told you the truth.”
“You should have,” agreed Gracie. “If each time there’s a little hiccup in our relationship you’re going to shut me out completely, we won’t have much of a marriage now will we?”
“M-marriage?” stammered Jack, taking a step closer to Gracie, who sat imperiously on the couch.
“That’s what I said. You did intend to marry me, right?”
“I did,” confessed Jack.
A wide smile broke through the clouds, and a sigh of relief escaped Gracie’s lips. “So you do love me after all?”
Jack closed the distance between them in a heartbeat and scooped her up in his arms.
“I’ve never loved anyone more, Melanie-Valerie-Gracie, and if you let me, I’ll love you and take care of you until the day I die.”
They were exactly the words I’d longed for weeks to hear. As Jack’s arms closed around me, the sadness and loneliness melted away, and my heart soared in jubilation. Jack loved me—he really loved me.
His lips stirred mine, and I greedily drew him in, letting myself fall to the couch as he took me, voraciously, pinning me down beneath his powerful frame.
He made short shrift of my blouse and as I shrugged out of my jeans, he revealed his muscular torso, his eyes full of lust and want—dying to have me once again—to take what was rightfully his.
“Jack—oh, my Jack.”
“Gracie,” he murmured, his eyes roving across my chest, taking in my heaving breasts and the soft swell of my mound. With a throaty growl, he bent down to strip me of the last remaining pieces of garment, and then we were naked, surrounded by the pieces of art I’d created, their cheerful colors seemingly rejoicing in the union of their creator with the man she’d pined for.
He took my mouth with ease and care this time, wanting to take things slow, but once our tongues met in their delicious tango, all caution was thrown to the wind, and soon we were melting all over again, just like we had before.
A sigh escaped my throat when his lips suckled at my breast, his hands feeding first one, then the other tit into his greedy mouth, wetting my soft skin with his saliva until I was all slick and wet. He moved down, his roving eyes dark and lustful on mine, and when his mouth took my cunt, I cried out with pleasure. To feel Jack on my naked flesh once again, when I’d expected never to see him again, was sheer rapture, and when his tongue plumbed my depths, the thick of it splaying my lips wide, I almost came just from the feel of his hot touch beyond my velvet folds. He eased his fingers into my welcoming hole, then, his tongue flicking along my deliciously swollen nub until I whimpered with delight, my eyes closed and my orgasm lifting me up and slamming me down in the most delicious high, and when he sucked in my flowing nectar, I begged him to take me.
He plunged into me, then, easing his long girth into my sex with perfect control, then, as he was exposed to the boiling heat of my cunt, a spasm of pleasure had him slam home into me with an explosion of movement.
“Oh, God, yes, Jack,” I moaned as I felt him all the way inside, reaching the farthest depths of me, his thick cockhead pushing against the walls of my vagina until I thought I’d burst.
“Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me hard.”
Easing out, only to plunge into me again, he eagerly obeyed my expressed desire, and when he rocked more and more furiously between my thighs, I spread my legs wider still, enveloping his wide hips with my legs, my feet pummeling his clenching buttocks, and I knew I’d finally landed in heaven.
I lay back against the black leather, the soft cushions yielding to Jack’s incessant thrusts as I cried out his name over and over again.
His lips were on mine, then trailing down my neck before stirring my twin mounds of pleasure again, sucking my nipples deeply into his mouth and nibbling gently until I thought I would simply explode with pleasure.
The wet sounds of our lovemaking reverberated around the room, my soppy cunt wet to overflowing with my juices, inviting Jack into me over and over again.
His face flushed, his dark eyes bored into me. “Gracie,” he growled fiercely. “I love you so fucking much. Will you be my wife?”
“Yes. Yes, Jack!” I cried out, and then I felt his cock spreading even wider inside me, his burgeoning length ready to explode.
“Come inside me, honey. Fill me with your cum,” I implored.
With a grunt, his eyes never leaving mine, he exploded into me, his balls erupting in twin geysers of hot semen and pumping a steady stream of cum into my tender flesh, straight into my pulsating womb.
“Make me a baby, Jack,” I whispered against his lips. “M-make me a baby.”
Spurt after spurt of white hot cum shot into my deepest center, coating my quivering womb with Jack’s seed until the last drop was spilled and I was full to the brim with the harvest of his sex.
Panting, he relaxed on top of me, his cock buried deep inside my belly, our union unbroken.
“What are you going to tell your dad if he asks why you’re marrying your sister?”
“The truth, if you’ll let me,” he suggested.
“I’ll have to ask my mom. I promised not to share her secret with anyone.”
I mussed up his hair even more than it already was, and he gave me a sly grin. “We’ll make quite the family. I think we need a diagram to keep it all straight in our heads.”
“There’s only one thing we need to know,” I murmured, fluttering kisses on his temple.
“What’s that?”
“We love each other, and that’s all that matters.”
He brushed his lips across mine, and we drank each other in, lost in the moment and in each other.
“You saved me in more ways than one, Jack Carter.”
“And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
I lay back, a contented smile on my face. Love had come into my life when Jack decided to save me, and I knew it would never leave.
THE END
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ABOUT NIC
Nic Saint is the pen name of husband and wife writing team Nicole and Nick Saint. The Saints have been writing together since 2007, initially focusing on cozy mystery books about cat sleuths and bumbling spies, later funny/scary books for kids and finally settling on what they like best: writing romance.
When they’re not tugging at the heartstrings, they enjoy their daily dose of yoga, a great movie, healthy food and a good book.
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LINKS TO OTHER NIC SAINT BOOKS
Felicity Bell
Humorous Romantic Mystery
Russian Enforcers
Romantic Suspense
Russian Enforcer’s Reluctant Bride
Russian Enforcer’s Virgin Captive
Russian Enforcer’s Feisty Lover
Russian Enforcer’s Resistant Rescue
Russian Enforcer’s Burning Obsession
Russian Enforcer’s Dangerous Game
Russian Enforcer’s Royal Engagement
Standalone Novels
Contemporary Romance/Romantic Suspense
The Billionaire’s Valiant Rescue
Billionaire Novelist’s Fiery Debutante
Cozy Mystery
Novellas
Romance
The Thorntons
Dark Romance
Excerpt From:
RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S RELUCTANT BRIDE
CHAPTER ONE
The wind was sweeping across the deserted plain, and Joanna’s hair billowed and swirled around her oval face, her eyes closing against the nippiness in the air. She should have brought her cap, she knew, but had wanted to feel the forces of nature whipping at her unfettered frame.
These days, she didn’t mind the cold so much as the humidity. Strange, how the change in season could seep into your bones and chill you to the core. It seemed only yesterday that a summer’s breeze had wafted along the outstretched meadows surrounding the patch of forest that was her home, and then suddenly winter was upon the land and touched everything with its icy tendrils of frost.
She stared out across the vast space, blinking the tears from her eyes, and thought she’d never felt this pervading sadness as keenly as she did now. Ever since her husband had left, leaving her to fend for herself in a world that was not her own, she’d managed to cope. She was at the end of her rope now. Much further and it would all be over. All hope lost. A life, fleeting as a castle made of sand, would end, and no one would ever know. Or care.
Joanna blinked and wrapped her shawl tighter around herself, planting her feet firmly in the soggy soil. Rain had arrived along with the first cold, and the scent of decaying leaves had mingled with wood stoves being kindled. Darkness set in earlier, the sun stealthily creeping away before the moon’s ascent.
I need to get out of here.
The thought suddenly stood out amongst the welter swirling in her head.
I need to get out of here, or I won’t survive another winter.
But where could she go? This was where she’d lived her whole life. Now only her father remained, her brothers having moved away when Mom died. They all had families of their own now—she really couldn’t impose upon them.
Crouching down, she plucked a lone wildflower, the last remnants of summer lingering. This was how she felt. A single flower surviving against all the odds. She’d lived a sheltered life with Jonathan, safe in the comfort of their home on the edge of Lincoln Forest. Now that he was gone, she found herself alone and pining for the family they’d never had.
Her phone hadn’t rung in weeks, and even when she passed through town to pick up groceries, all her eyes met were curious glances, cursory nods, or brief words murmured in greeting. They all wondered what had induced her husband to up and leave when he did.
Some of the women eyed her with disinterest, others with pity, still others with the guarded look of one fearful of the competition. She was, after all, still in her prime. Five years of marriage had done nothing to diminish her untamed beauty. The flaming red hair, the remarkable emerald eyes, the pointed chin, often raised in mutiny, the pale skin liberally strewn with freckles.