Author: Beckett Riley
Genre: Erotic Romance, Menage
(Short Story - Under 15K words)
Release Date: July 3, 2020
Cover Design: Shashika2
Struggling bookshop owner, Josie lives a mundane life in a small town where the most eligible bachelor is a below-average Joe and the most happening place in town is a crummy bar called the Speckled Hen. She spends her days with the only things that bring her joy: books and prison shows on TV. On what would be a boring night like any other, she witnesses an ongoing bank robbery that will forever change her life.
Ten banks. Five years.
Brothers Ronan and Dagen are former marines turned bank robbers meticulously planning their early retirement. This last heist was supposed to be the easiest one yet, but when Josie shows up, their plans go into a tailspin and they have no other choice than to kidnap the gorgeous bookshop owner.
What’s a girl to do with two hot, convicted felons on the run?
As the hours go by, the trio begins to get friendly and let their guards down. The mutual desire growing between them is clear as day, throwing a wrench into the former felons’ plans. One thing is certain; neither three will ever be the same after this one night.
Ten small-town banks scattered through Middle America over the course of five years. Easy as fuck. This was our last job. Bank reserves are the minimal amounts of cash a bank must keep in hand in order to meet unexpected withdrawal demands. Why small-town banks? Early closing times and class M vaults. Class M’s are the easiest to break into. The standard time it takes most men to pull this off is fifteen minutes, which means I can do it in ten. This comes at a price though, these kinds of banks don’t keep large quantities of cash. Some big branches hold millions in their vaults, but smaller ones like this might hold around $200,000. This was definitely more work, but the chances of walking away scot-free were higher than targeting a large branch.
The last one was a joke. I grabbed the duffel bag with the explosive and a pair of bolt cutters for the pathetic-as-fuck folding scissor gate on the front door. My younger brother, Dagen, was the wheelman, so he always stayed in the car. I put on my ski mask, swung the duffel over my shoulder, and grabbed my assault rifle. Yeah, the rifle was overkill for a place like this, but I’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.
One snap of the lock and I was in. The silent alarm would go off the moment I opened that front door, so we had exactly ten minutes to get in and get out. Just so happens the land-whale of a sheriff and his cumstain deputy were just called out to a nonexistent car accident right outside city limits. It would take them ten minutes to drive out there, another five to realize there was no accident, and thirteen more to reach the bank when it was called in. That gave us an eighteen- minute head start.
In eighteen minutes, we would be long fucking gone.
I set up the homemade bomb on the vault. Six minutes later — boom! I was in and got to work filling the duffel bag. Nine minutes, done. Fuck yeah. I grabbed the rifle and headed out. I threw the bag onto the backseat and was about to climb into the passenger seat when I saw the girl staring directly at me and Dagen, who wasn’t wearing a mask. Fuck. My. Life. I guess she was closing that gay-ass looking book store and walked out at the same time I did. I’ll give her credit, she pretended not to see us and tried to lollygag away, but there was no way we could let her go.
The last one was a joke. I grabbed the duffel bag with the explosive and a pair of bolt cutters for the pathetic-as-fuck folding scissor gate on the front door. My younger brother, Dagen, was the wheelman, so he always stayed in the car. I put on my ski mask, swung the duffel over my shoulder, and grabbed my assault rifle. Yeah, the rifle was overkill for a place like this, but I’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.
One snap of the lock and I was in. The silent alarm would go off the moment I opened that front door, so we had exactly ten minutes to get in and get out. Just so happens the land-whale of a sheriff and his cumstain deputy were just called out to a nonexistent car accident right outside city limits. It would take them ten minutes to drive out there, another five to realize there was no accident, and thirteen more to reach the bank when it was called in. That gave us an eighteen- minute head start.
In eighteen minutes, we would be long fucking gone.
I set up the homemade bomb on the vault. Six minutes later — boom! I was in and got to work filling the duffel bag. Nine minutes, done. Fuck yeah. I grabbed the rifle and headed out. I threw the bag onto the backseat and was about to climb into the passenger seat when I saw the girl staring directly at me and Dagen, who wasn’t wearing a mask. Fuck. My. Life. I guess she was closing that gay-ass looking book store and walked out at the same time I did. I’ll give her credit, she pretended not to see us and tried to lollygag away, but there was no way we could let her go.
Beckett loves writing short, erotic stories as much as she loves reading them. Happily ever afters and hot, possessive, guys bring tears of joy to her eyes so expect to see alpha males roaming her raunchy pages.
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