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Authors: Sam Crescent
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brought men into her life. He’d forced her to go on dates. He
was shopping for a new son-in-law and a means to extend his already
bulging empire.
So, fear playing a vital part in her
plan, she walked in on the special agent’s department and requested
to see the man in charge of Arthur O’Donald’s case. Not one of her
brightest moments but it fuelled her desire to seek out justice.
From that day forth, she turned rat on her father and became an
informant for the secret agents working his case. Every shred of
information she could provide, she did. This was three years ago.
They were supposed to have taken him down while she was transported
to Italy.
The plane accident and being trapped
on a deserted island hadn’t been part of the plan.
“ I just want to get home,”
she repeated. The need to see her father behind bars was strong.
This was payback for her mother and all the other women who’d
suffered at his hand.
“ You and me both, honey.
I’ve got important stuff to be getting on with as well. I don’t
have all day to be babysitting a spoilt little rich
girl.”
Erik was her father’s right-hand man
and most trusted contact. She’d seen them together a few times.
Always with a woman resting on his arm, or perched in his lap while
her father talked business. About three months ago, Arthur had
forced her to play hostess and keep Erik company. The man reeked of
danger and even if her body stirred, the thought of the wire she
wore and the calls she use to receive and make to the special agent
in charge would always be a wake-up call and make her keep her
distance.
One of the deals she made was she
would never know the name of the people involved working the case,
which helped to protect her because other than answering the phone
and wearing a wire she didn’t know anything. The other was to keep
their specially designed, untraceable phone on her person at all
times. In case she was ever in danger, she would phone and they’d
get the signal. Other than pre-planned calls, the phone was rarely
used.
From the day she’d entered the
department and sat down with a guy in his mid-forties, she hadn’t
seen anyone since.
It seemed ironic she was stuck on an
island with one of the deadliest men in the world and she had
nothing to protect herself with.
“ I’m sick and tired of your
bitching. I’m not some spoilt rich girl, okay?” She threw a shell
at him and growled in frustration as it went straight over his
head. Kelly bent down to pick up another one but Erik was already
on her. He took her down to the sand and rolled her onto her back.
The fight she put up caused more of a struggle and Erik had to use
some force to restrain her. His body came close and she detected
his masculine scent underneath the salty sea air. Dirty and hard.
She imagined rough sex and rock music. The sand gritty under her
body where she wouldn’t have to see it. Since being in this fucking
beautiful deserted island, she hated the sight of sand.
“ Okay, if you’re not some
little rich girl. Tell me sweetness, what exactly are
you?”
His body was flush against hers. Since
the crash and the battle to get their life to some form of
normality, Erik had decided to get rid of his clothes. He wore the
occasional pair of pants but he refused to wear anything when the
sun was blaring in the sky. Kelly hadn’t been able to rid herself
of her small amount of modesty. She was only thankful she’d decided
to wear her push-up bra on the day of the plane crash that had
padding in it rather than the sheer lace she often wore.
As he lay on top of her, she became
aware of two things; one, she liked the feel of lying beneath him,
and the second, he was having just as much fun. His cock was hard
and thick where it settled over her panties.
She gasped and gazed into his eyes.
Without thinking, she admitted the truth. “I’m a rat.”
He paused above her.
“What?”
Licking her lips as he trapped her
hands above her head she tried to
was shopping for a new son-in-law and a means to extend his already
bulging empire.
So, fear playing a vital part in her
plan, she walked in on the special agent’s department and requested
to see the man in charge of Arthur O’Donald’s case. Not one of her
brightest moments but it fuelled her desire to seek out justice.
From that day forth, she turned rat on her father and became an
informant for the secret agents working his case. Every shred of
information she could provide, she did. This was three years ago.
They were supposed to have taken him down while she was transported
to Italy.
The plane accident and being trapped
on a deserted island hadn’t been part of the plan.
“ I just want to get home,”
she repeated. The need to see her father behind bars was strong.
This was payback for her mother and all the other women who’d
suffered at his hand.
“ You and me both, honey.
I’ve got important stuff to be getting on with as well. I don’t
have all day to be babysitting a spoilt little rich
girl.”
Erik was her father’s right-hand man
and most trusted contact. She’d seen them together a few times.
Always with a woman resting on his arm, or perched in his lap while
her father talked business. About three months ago, Arthur had
forced her to play hostess and keep Erik company. The man reeked of
danger and even if her body stirred, the thought of the wire she
wore and the calls she use to receive and make to the special agent
in charge would always be a wake-up call and make her keep her
distance.
One of the deals she made was she
would never know the name of the people involved working the case,
which helped to protect her because other than answering the phone
and wearing a wire she didn’t know anything. The other was to keep
their specially designed, untraceable phone on her person at all
times. In case she was ever in danger, she would phone and they’d
get the signal. Other than pre-planned calls, the phone was rarely
used.
From the day she’d entered the
department and sat down with a guy in his mid-forties, she hadn’t
seen anyone since.
It seemed ironic she was stuck on an
island with one of the deadliest men in the world and she had
nothing to protect herself with.
“ I’m sick and tired of your
bitching. I’m not some spoilt rich girl, okay?” She threw a shell
at him and growled in frustration as it went straight over his
head. Kelly bent down to pick up another one but Erik was already
on her. He took her down to the sand and rolled her onto her back.
The fight she put up caused more of a struggle and Erik had to use
some force to restrain her. His body came close and she detected
his masculine scent underneath the salty sea air. Dirty and hard.
She imagined rough sex and rock music. The sand gritty under her
body where she wouldn’t have to see it. Since being in this fucking
beautiful deserted island, she hated the sight of sand.
“ Okay, if you’re not some
little rich girl. Tell me sweetness, what exactly are
you?”
His body was flush against hers. Since
the crash and the battle to get their life to some form of
normality, Erik had decided to get rid of his clothes. He wore the
occasional pair of pants but he refused to wear anything when the
sun was blaring in the sky. Kelly hadn’t been able to rid herself
of her small amount of modesty. She was only thankful she’d decided
to wear her push-up bra on the day of the plane crash that had
padding in it rather than the sheer lace she often wore.
As he lay on top of her, she became
aware of two things; one, she liked the feel of lying beneath him,
and the second, he was having just as much fun. His cock was hard
and thick where it settled over her panties.
She gasped and gazed into his eyes.
Without thinking, she admitted the truth. “I’m a rat.”
He paused above her.
“What?”
Licking her lips as he trapped her
hands above her head she tried to
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