Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: The Complete Collection

Chapter Eight

Isabella

My anxiety-ridden weekend has led to this moment. Jacob hasn’t been seen all day, hasn’t left the comfort of his office, or called for me to come over to his trailer through the phone line. I take my time settling my laptop down as I shut down my emails and straighten the pens on my desk.

My head aches, my ankles weak, while I cross through the job site, ignoring the catcalling and the flirtatious whistles from the construction workers on break. I adjust the hem of my skirt, wearing one that goes over my knees just for the purpose of today and seeing Jacob after our deal was made on Friday.

I let myself into the office, unsure what to anticipate, but shocked when it’s a sudden shove against the wall. Jacob presses a hand over my mouth, pinning the back of my head against the wall while he makes sure to lock the deadbolt on the door this time.

My pulse fires off at the sight.

“Finally,” he says through his gritted teeth, pressing his body against mine while standing over a foot taller than me.

His hand is still caging my lips closed while I fight at his other palm feeling up the blushing pink fabric of my buttoned-up blouse. He circles his focus around my breast, tugging my bra under the weight of my breast while he leans in, his lips pulling at the nipple over the safety of my shirt.

I turn my face sideways, freeing my lips at last and inhaling a sharp, shocked breath.

“Jacob,” I groan, fighting his rough hands while he feels me up, toying with my nipple with his aggressive teeth. “Ouch, Jacob, you’re hurting me.”

He backs away from my breast, pulling on my throbbing peak with his teeth so hard that I yelp, feeling a warm trail of blood leak from a cut made with his bite. He smiles at the sight proudly, a drop of crimson blood soaking into my blouse.

“I’ve been dreaming of this all weekend,” he says into the hollow of my throat, digging a hand into my scalp to force my head back into the wall, giving him access to plant lingering kisses around the center of my neck. “Did you really think you were going to get out of our arrangement, baby?”

“I… please, Jacob… just stop—”

I choke on a breath, his teeth meeting my shoulder after his tongue has brushed all over my collarbone. I hiss a breath, pushing him back a step to hold onto my shoulder, thankful there isn’t any blood this time.

Jacob gives me a frightening look of lust, storming forward to maul me some more, ripping my blouse open, but my reflexes have other ideas. I sling a slap over his cheek, the pressure hard enough to echo through his office trailer and send a cold set of chills down my spine.

He holds his cheek in surprise, the slap not nearly enough to stop his sexual ambitions but just enough to shock him into a stalled state. It gives me a minute to grab at the door, unlocking the deadbolt, but he snaps out of his hesitation quicker than I anticipated.

His hands wrap around my hips, and he throws me halfway across the room, my chest pressed into his desk before I can even blink straight. His pelvis presses hard into my ass, his hands fighting the long, tight skirt that keeps him from his main goal.

The office rattles at the bones as the door is thrown open, Jacob huffing an inhale, ready to yell at the visitor to leave. But the door closes, and comical laughter fills the room. I tilt my head against the desk, shivering all over as I look over to see William Lacey stalking toward the desk with an amused grin.

William Lacey is a rich man, he doesn’t come around the job site often, but it was always made clear when he was here that he and his son have the same taste in women. He has only given a few fleeting gropes or mentioned some crude suggestions toward me, but watching his son bend me over his desk and fight my skirt doesn’t seem to shift any of those initial desires.

“Well, son, I came on business, but it’s clear now,” William chuckles, wiping his face with his aged, worn hand, “you’re in the middle of a personal call.”

Jacob is far too frustrated to laugh, his hand pinning both of mine behind my back while he grabs a box cutter off his desktop nearby. I freeze in fear, feeling the edge of my skirt tear against the back of my thighs, cutting it all the way to the hem, where he gives up and throws the knife aside.

“I’d be done with it by now if she didn’t put up such a fight,” Jacob snaps, one hand still pinning my wrists down, the other reaching for my long hair, pushing my temple down onto his desk to keep me from squirming so much. “She’s a feisty one, Father. Want to give her a try?”

William’s wrinkled brow furrows, and he strips out of his jacket, fear boiling in the base of my stomach. “No, son. Not today. How can we even be sure she won’t run to the cops with some story of rape? I have enough trouble to deal with—I don’t need more.”

I flinch at that crude word. I never imagined it pertaining to me, but given my position right now, it’s most likely a guarantee.

Jacob hums a tune of amusement while he centers his erection against my ass, leaving just his pants to separate the two from meeting fully.

“We have an understanding, right, Bella?” Jacob prods, releasing my hair and swinging a hard slap into the back of my ass. I jump, prompting a cry, and it only makes Jacob laugh harder. “Come on, baby, tell my father about your dirty deed. Tell him why if you run to the cops, I’ll be forced to do the same.”

I choke, my voice stammering through my reply, “I stole some cash. It was in Jacob’s office. I had to pay for my father’s—”

William nods toward his son, prompting another harsh hit into my ass that stops my explanation. I cringe, fighting his hold on my wrists while his fingertips drag over the pulsing pain on my backside. William snickers as he shakes his head, plopping down in a chair that sits directly in front of my pinned position.

“We don’t deal lightly with thieves, do we, Jacob?”

Another hit on my ass, another panting cry from my lips.

“Go ahead and finish up, Jacob,” William says in an afterthought. “I’ll punish her after you’re done with that fresh pussy.”

I inhale sharply, hearing Jacob’s zipper fall, but it isn’t the only noise that pulls my focus.

The door opens then closes shortly after, heavy steps pressing into the trailer while I anticipate another crude monster of a man drooling at the sight of me bent over the desk. I’m dribbled in blood, my skirt sliced up the back, and my eyes welled with hot, endless tears before I meet the cyan irises that I’ve been seeing all over the city for the last two days.

“Dammit,” Jacob snarls, releasing me at last.

I fall to the floor and back up into the wall, fighting to adjust my skirt and torn blouse over my body, shaking so hard that my head aches as I’m nearly passing out just to avoid further degradation. I doubt unconsciousness would even save me from this torment.

“Carter Blackthorne,” Jacob bites. “You’ve spoiled my fun twice in one week.”

William shoots his son a careful look before shifting his glance to me, curled up on the floor. “Go home, Bella. You dare talk about what happened today, and we tell the police you’re a dirty thief.”

I aim to stand, but a hefty hand presses me back to the floor, my eyes admiring the black rose cufflinks on the sleeve. I stare up at Carter, lost in his light eyes that hardly seem mortified by the sight of me. I can only pray that he doesn’t have the same intentions of allowing Jacob to rape me.

“Actually,” Carter hums, cool and collected, “I think she should stay right there.”

I swallow a hard gulp and do what Carter says. If anyone in here has a dominant, powerful aura, it is Carter Blackthorne. And if there is one man I don’t want to piss off out of the three of them, something tells me it’s also Carter Blackthorne.