Chapter 9 PHANTOM THREATS
ISABELLA
A loud knock pounded on the door at 7 AM, yanking me out of a steamy dream where Richard's thick cock was buried deep in my pussy, and he was whispering promises of forever. I glanced over at him sleeping next to me, his chest rising and falling all peaceful after we'd fucked twice last night once to celebrate getting rid of Mike, and again when that creepy text came in: Mike’s dead. You’re next. My hand shook as I read it out loud, but instead of freaking out, it lit a fire in me. I climbed on top of him right there, sank down onto his hard cock, and rode him wild until we both came hard, his cum filling me up while we guessed who sent it. Now, cold reality hits like a slap.
"Cops," I whispered, shaking him awake. "Get up, Daddy."
He shot up fast, eyes sharpening. "Shit. Act normal like the grieving widow and daughter."
I threw on a robe quickly, my pussy still sore and slick from last night, a hot reminder of our twisted bond. But did I really trust him? Those texts made me wonder. We headed downstairs together, me clutching a tissue like the heartbroken stepdaughter I could play so well. Two detectives waited on the porch middle-aged, tough-looking, badges shining in the morning light.
"Mrs. Thorne?" Wait, that was Mom. "Mr. Thorne? Isabella Thorne? We're looking into Emily Hargrove's disappearance. Can we come in?"
Richard nodded all seriousness, leading them to the living room. "Of course. Horrible news about Emily. She was my assistant."
I sat right next to him on the couch, our thighs touching. I put my hand on his knee for the show, but also a sneaky squeeze: Don't screw this up.
Detective Hale the woman with those sharp eyes pulled out a tablet. "They found her body in the woods. Burned badly, but dental records matched. You were the last one to see her alive, Mr. Thorne?"
He sighed big, acting shocked. "She stopped by after Elena's funeral. Upset about some work stuff. We talked, and she left. That's all."
Hale's partner, Ruiz, leaned in. "People saw your car near the spot that night. And her phone had flirty texts from you, pretty intimate."
My heart pounded, but I kept my face all teary. "Emily was obsessed with Dad. She sent him nudes and kept harassing him. He turned her down flat."
Richard nodded. "It's true. I can show you screenshots if you want."
Hale looked at me. "What about you, Isabella? Got an alibi?"
"We were together," I said smoothly, squeezing his knee again. "Grieving hard. Stayed in and watched movies. Right, Daddy?" Oh shit the word slipped out. Heat rushed to my face, but I played it off like a mistake. "I mean, Dad."
They swapped looks. "Daddy, huh? You two are close."
"Super close," Richard said, putting his hand over mine. "Isabella's been my rock since Elena died."
They questioned us for a full hour of timelines, reasons why. Emily's pregnancy came up, but Richard swore it wasn't his. "No way." All lies, but they flowed perfectly. Finally, they left with a warning: "Don't leave town."
As soon as the door shut, Richard pulled me in tight, his cock already hardening against me. "We crushed it, baby."
I shoved him back, eyes flashing mad. "Daddy? Seriously? You nearly blew our cover."
He grinned, not sorry at all, and slid his hands under my robe to grab my ass. "It slipped. But hearing you say it in front of them? Turned me on bad." He kissed my neck, fingers slipping between my thighs and finding me soaked. "You're always dripping for me."
I moaned even though I tried not to, but I pushed him toward the couch. "Not yet. Who the hell sent it?"
He groaned, fixing his bulge. "No clue. Maybe Mike's buddy or a cop he knew."
"You're lying," I snapped, climbing on him and grinding my bare pussy against his pants. "Give me your phone. Now."
He handed it over, unlocked. I scrolled through no new stuff. But that old unknown number: She's nuts. Dump her once Elena's money hits. Sent to the Cleanup Crew.
Rage hit me hard, but so did the heat. "This 'friend'? He was gonna kill me?"
He grabbed my hips and flipped us, so I was pinned under him, the robe falling open. "Nah, baby. Just backup in case you flipped on me."
I slapped him, but arched up as he pulled out his cock and teased my entrance. "Fuck you. What's his name?"
"Victor," he growled, thrusting deep and stretching my pussy wide. "Old business buddy. Cleans up messes. But I ain't calling him."
I wrapped my legs around him, nails digging into his back. "Prove it. Call him right now. On speaker. Tell him we're through."
He laughed and started pounding slow and deep. "While I'm fucking you? You dirty little thing." He snatched his phone, dialed as he thrust, making me gasp loud.
It rang. A rough voice answered: "Richard? Mike's toast. You sloppy bastard."
"Victor," Richard grunted, slamming harder. "Plans changed. Isabella's with me. No more texts."
I bit my lip hard to hold back moans, my pussy squeezing his cock tight.
Victor barked a laugh. "The step-slut? Whatever. But you owe me for Emily."
"Already paid," Richard said, rubbing my clit fast. "We're vanishing soon."
"Smart move. Watch your ass." Click.
Richard chucked the phone and fucked me harder. "Happy now?"
"Almost," I panted, shoving him off. "Sit up. I'm riding you reverse talk escape plans."
He sat back, and I climbed on facing away, sinking onto his cock and bouncing hard while staring out the window. Were those cops still parked outside? Paranoia spiked, but the thrill won out. "Mexico," he groaned, slapping my ass. "New IDs. Fucking on the beach every day."
"Give me details," I demanded, grinding deep. "How?"
"Sell the house fast. Grab my cash bonus. Drive to the border tonight."
"Yes," I moaned, clit pulsing. "Your cock in me the whole way."
We came together hard, my pussy milking him dry, cum spilling out as I fell back against his chest.
But then my phone buzzed unknown: Victor says hi. You're dead.
Ice shot through me. "Daddy... it's him."
Richard's face went stone-cold. "We bail now."
We packed like crazy clothes, cash stacks, and that vial of antifreeze "just in case." He tucked his gun away. On the road, the desert highway flew by, tension thick in the air. "Pull over," I said after an hour, my pussy throbbing.
He found a dark spot under the stars. "Right here?"
"Yeah." I stripped in the backseat, legs wide. "Eat my pussy first. Taste our new life."
He dove between my thighs, tongue lapping me up. "So fucking sweet. You trust me now?"
"Mostly," I gasped, fingers in his hair. "But betray me—"
"Never," he murmured, sucking my clit hard. "Cum for Daddy."
I exploded, then yanked him up. "Fuck me doggy. Rough."
He slid in and pounded as the car rocked. "Mine. All mine."
"Yours," I cried out, but I glanced back headlights trailing us?
We finished and hit the gas. Hours later, we pulled into a dingy motel totally anonymous. Checked in as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
Inside the room, he pinned me to the bed. "Time to celebrate being free."
But my phone glowed: Found you. Room 12.
Panic hit. "He's here!"
Richard snatched the gun. "Hide!"
The door flew open Victor, huge and masked. "Pay up time."
Richard shot missed. They wrestled hard. I grabbed the vial and smashed it in Victor's face. He screamed as the antifreeze burned his eyes.
Richard tackled him and snapped his neck clean. The body dropped.
Panting and bloody, Richard turned to me. "You saved our asses."
I shook, but lust surged hot. "Fuck me right on top of him."
He did his cock plunging into my dripping pussy while we used the corpse like a mattress. "My hero."
We went at it wild and animal-like, coming hard in the middle of death.
We cleaned up quickly, dumped Victor's body in the desert, and got back on the road.
Dawn broke as we drove. "Are we safe now?" I asked, my hand stroking his cock while he drove.
"For now." But his phone pinged a cop alert app? Thorne's house was raided. Suspects on the run.
Too damn close.
That night, another cheap motel. We fucked slow and sweet this time. "Marry me?" he whispered, buried deep inside.
"Yes, Daddy."
But as he slept, I checked his phone with a new text: Need exit plan. She's a risk. -V
Victor was dead. Who sent that?