by Linzi Basset
“Give me more, Delilah,” Bruce demanded. He reached around her waist and slapped her nipples. Her surprised cry, followed by her arching body begged for more and he complied, alternating between her nipples and clitoris. Soft, then hard and then harder, over and over. Morgan screamed, utterly defenseless in the face of the climax that ripped through her at the unexpected erotic torture. The intensity caught her unprepared and she was hurled into erotic oblivion.
Bruce continued to pound into her mercilessly until he climaxed with unrestrained jerks inside her, leading to another uncontrollable orgasm for Morgan.
She slumped in the swing, only to cry out as Bruce pulled out of her and yanked on the straps to flip her over. Before she caught her breath, he thrust back inside. The grin on his lips was wicked but oh, so promising.
His low growl reached her in a haze of sensual overindulgence. “Oh no, Delilah. We’ve only just begun. The night is but a puppy and I’m nowhere near done.” His smile widened as he twitched his cock inside her. Don’t worry, my pet. I’m well prepared. The drawer is full of condoms.”
“Freaking hell,” she moaned.
He responded with another chuckle—an iniquitous promise in itself.
Chapter Twelve
“Our Wade Moore? From the club?” Ethan exploded furiously upon hearing the news from Bruce the following morning.
“The one and only,” Keon growled. Rhone had told him about it at the club already and he had been hard pressed not to pound the bastard into his grave there and then. He glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time since the meeting had started.
“In a hurry, big guy?” Max asked as he caught him again seconds later.
“It’s Lauren. I have a gut feeling she’s gonna go into labor today. Dealing with yet another fucking betrayer is the last thing I need right now.” He yanked the elastic band from his long hair and shook it loose. His irritation was evident for all to see.
“I find it hard to believe. He’s good at his job. He’s always kept to himself and performs his duties without fail.” Lance frowned pensively. “In all aspects, he’s the perfect Club Manager.”
“Which is why we trusted him implicitly. We were never concerned that he overheard our discussions in regard to ops and intel.” Alex took a sip of his latte, smiling as Keon once again glanced at his watch. He couldn’t wait for the day that he was in the same boat.
“Now we know why we had so many failed sting ops against The Sixth Order. What Reece and Jaden didn’t know, he picked up here.” Lance sat upright. “Come to think of it, Reece wouldn’t just have involved anyone, definitely not someone he didn’t trust or know very well.”
Max perked up. “Do you have an idea who he might be? Richard and I have searched the dark web but can’t find shit. Everything leads only to Wade Moore.”
“We’ve always had the same friends growing up,” Lance mused. “They must have met him later on.”
“Dammit! I had hoped you might know of someone.” Max tapped his fingers on the desk. “What about Reece’s parents? Your uncle Desmond, isn’t it? Wouldn’t he know?”
Lance got up and filled his cup. He took a long sip before he answered. “It’s worth a try. I’ll phone Uncle Des after the meeting.”
“More bad news,” Richard interceded quietly. He glanced at Bruce as he tapped a file on his iPad to flash open on the large monitor on the wall. “Bruce asked me to find Jacklyn Long.” He gestured at the death certificate on the screen. “Your suspicion was correct. Her body was discovered by a group of archeologists at the bottom of a ravine in the Rocky Mountains two years ago. I can’t find any announcements made regarding her death at that time.”
“Which means someone made sure it was kept under wraps,” Bruce snapped. Repressed anger vibrated in his voice.
“Reece,” Rhone said sharply. “Cause of death?”
“Broken neck but because no one laid claim to the body, they didn’t bother with an in-depth autopsy.” Richard scrolled through the information on his iPad.
“Where are the remains?” Alex asked as he pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Lemme see.” Richard quickly scanned the documents. “Buried in an unmarked grave in Idaho Falls.”
“I’ll issue an order to have it exhumed.” Alex looked at Max. “If anyone can find DNA traces on the bones and real cause of death, it’ll be Joanne. Will she be up to it?”
“That wife of mine doesn’t know the concept of taking it easy. Since she got pregnant, she’s turned into an energizer bunny. It’s tiring just watching her. Believe me, she’ll jump at it, but make sure she has a competent team to work with. I don’t want her on her feet the entire day.”
“I’ll fill in Lexi. I’m sure she’ll be happy to assist and offer the services of her staff as well.”
“Check with her please, Lance. I’ll set the ball rolling in the meantime.” Alex quickly made the call.
“I don’t know why you bother, Alex,” Bruce said in a dark voice. He glanced at Lance. “Sorry, mate but after everything that's happened and the death and destruction Reece orchestrated as the main leader, none of us are going to aim to wound when it comes to it.”
Lance winced but deep down, he couldn’t blame Bruce or any of his friends. If Reece wasn’t his cousin, he would’ve felt the same.
“There’s no harm in gathering as much evidence of his crimes,” Rhone interjected. He studied Lance for a long time. “The reality is, he won’t be in jail for long, even if he gets a life sentence. He’s got too many contacts in high places. He’ll be out in no time, assume a different identity and become even more dangerous and cruel.”
“I know and you’re right.” Lance wiped a tired hand over his eyes. “I just don’t know if I would be able to pull the trigger if I’m the one standing in front of him.”
“No one expects you to but be alert at all times, Lance. Reece knows you well enough to realize that. He’s going to use it to his advantage,” Ethan said with a concerned frown.
“Did you find out anything else from Morgan?” Keon prodded Bruce.
A vision of her in the sex swing brought a pleasant warmth to Bruce’s loins. He stretched out his legs to gather his thoughts. “Just that the contract on me has been withdrawn. They want her to kill me.”
“Jesus, how demented are those bastards?” Richard looked at the faces around the room.
“What hold do they have on her?” Max asked as he typed on his iPad.
“That’s what I’d like to find out. She claims The Sixth Order found her as one of the escaped sex slaves. Only, it doesn’t make sense. Sheikh Jahayman who bought her is dead, therefore they were off the hook as far as she’s concerned, so why bother spending resources to find her? I do know that her fear is real.” Bruce glanced at Max. “They’re threatening her with Joanne and the baby.”
“They better stay away from my family. I’ll fucking kill them with my bare hands,” Max sneered, his lips in a vicious line.
“I already spoke to Jim and the team. We’ve tightened the security detail around all our houses and loved ones,” Rhone interjected.
“Max, I want you to do a deeper background check than the one we did eight months ago. Something isn’t adding up with her story. My gut tells me there’s a connection between her and Wade Moore. I don’t buy that The Sixth Order would just contact her out of the blue. One way or the other they have a hold over her. They’re using her for a definite purpose. We need to find out what.”
“Will do. I’m just checking our previous results. Ah, yes, here it is. She claimed she didn’t have any family, which is why she was an easy target for human trafficking.”
“That’s what she said during our sessions as well but I always had a feeling she was telling me half-truths,” Bruce said pensively. “She was a public figure, a well-known artist who already made name for herself. Human traffickers don’t pick women like her. It’s too risky.”
“Are you thinking she was deliberately picked and sold? Like J
oanne was?” Max closed the folder on his iPad and looked at Bruce.
“It’s the only theory that makes sense. Dig as deep as you can, Max. I have a feeling we’ll find something that will give us the edge.” Bruce got up and stretched his legs. “We had the advantage with the Sauna House. With Reece and Jaden gone, we’re on the back foot again.”
“Do we have anything new on them?” Alex asked as soon as he ended the call.
“Nothing yet,” Max said with a grimace. “After Rhone spoke to me this morning, I popped in at the club under the pretense that I needed my toy bag. While Wade fetched it for me, I managed to clone his phone. Richard is going to monitor it 24/7. If either of them makes contact, we’ll know.”
“And be on their fucking asses like flies on a piece of shit,” Keon snarled. He checked his watch again. “I’m going home to check on Lauren. Call me if there’s anything new.”
“I think I’ll tag along, mate. Just in case,” Ethan said and finished his coffee in one gulp.
“Thanks, Ethan. That’ll put my mind at ease. She’s so goddamned stubborn lately.”
“Ah, the joys of a pregnant woman,” Ethan teased as they left the room.
Alex’s phone buzzed. He frowned as he read the name on the small screen. “It’s Sean.”
Sean Scott was the brother of Paige, Ethan’s wife. He was one of the best undercover SPO for a secret sting operation unit of the Government. Currently, he’s under Alex’s direct command until he stepped down as Governor. Sean had been deep undercover for the past two years to infiltrate the Russian mafia. That led to him currently posing as the love interest of Tasha Alenichev, daughter of the assumed dead leader of the Bratva, Vladimir Alenichev. The Sixth Order had colluded with the Bratva to steal the server containing an encrypted file with the schematics and designs of MOKV technology. The design for a ballistic guided missile defense multi-warhead killer would be devastating in the wrong hands. The Sixth order was the brains behind the MOKV theft.
“What’s up, Sean? Talk to me,” Alex urged and waited anxiously. The sound of labored breathing echoed back at him. He put the phone on speaker and placed it on the desk. “Sean?”
“I’m in t-trouble, Governor.” Sean’s croak was barely audible in the silent room.
“Talk to me.”
“I’ve been s-shot … ugh, fuck,” he groaned.
“Max, Richard! Trace the call,” Rhone snapped as he sat forward.
“Already on it,” Richard said.
“No! Don’t worry about me. Paige … get to her. They’re on the way … you h-ave to hurry … ugh ...”
“Sean!” Alex cursed as the connection was cut. “Did you get him?”
“Hold on, I’ve got the cell tower it bounced off and … shit! Closest I can get is a two-block radius,” Richard said in frustration.
“That’s close enough. Lance, you and Max take a team and go find him. Bruce, Alex, we’re going for Paige.” Rhone snapped out the orders as they filed out the boardroom, heading for the roof to get to the chopper. “Keep us in the loop, Lance.”
They were already airborne when Bruce said, “I’m phoning Ethan. They’re probably already closer to his house than we are.” He made the call and relayed the information as calmly as possible. Paige had just told Ethan she was pregnant. The thought of her in danger caused his stomach to tie in a knot.
“They should be at his house in less than ten minutes.”
“Good. We’ll arrive soon after,” Rhone pushed the Sikorsky chopper to warp speed, intending to cut the flying time even shorter. “Get hold of the security detail as well, Bruce. They fucking better be on alert.”
“What about Jaxon? Where’s he?” Alex asked, concern for Ethan’s fifteen-year-old son adding to the tension in his body.
“Fuck! Jax is home this week. Push this fucking chopper, Rhone,” Bruce urged, his voice raw as he phoned Jim and snapped out an order in regard to the security detail. The tension mounted the closer they came to Ethan’s waterfront property in Alexandria.
“Mom, I’m not telling you again. Get your ass down from that ladder!”
For a moment Paige was too emotional to respond. It was the first time Jaxon called her Mom. Her eyes misted over. His mother had taken him away from Ethan when he was eight years old when she married a Sheikh and moved to Saudi Arabia. Ethan only managed to bring him home two weeks after his fifteenth birthday. He had crawled into her heart from day one. How else? He was the mirror image of his father. His words penetrated and she frowned down at him.
“Jaxon Brodie! Don’t you dare speak to me like that,” Paige grumbled as she shifted her weight and reached for the top shelf in the hallway closet to take out the box where she’d buried the knitting needles she’d never used since her mother had given them to her ten years ago. “Hey! What … Jaxon, put me down,” she shrieked as his hands grabbed her around the waist and bodily removed her from the stepladder.
He muttered under his breath as he put her down and climbed the ladder. Paige bit back a smile. At this moment, he reminded her so much of Ethan.
“Which box do you need?” he asked and carefully pulled out the one she indicated. She followed him as he carried it to the great open room and sat it down on the coffee table. “There.” He straightened and pinned her down with a sharp look, his hands planted on his hips. He towered over her, having suddenly shot up overnight. He was even closing in on Ethan as far as height was concerned.
“If you need anything taken from a shelf higher than your knees, call me. If you need anything picked up heavier than a banana, call me.” He wiggled a stiff finger at her belly. “I don’t want my little sister stressed out in there.”
Paige didn’t bother to hold back the tears any longer. She hugged him fiercely. “You are such a wonderful young man and I love you very much. I hope you know that.”
He returned the hug, his voice thickened as he responded, “I know and I love you too, Mom.”
She leaned back and stared at him with glimmering eyes. “I never expected you to call me that. You have no idea what it means to me that you do.”
He offered her a toothy smile. “In the short time I’ve been home, you’ve been more of a mother to me than my own has in my entire life.”
Paige stroked his arm as she stepped back. “Do you miss her?”
His mother, Delia, had committed suicide three months after her husband, Prince Khalid Saud, was caught for human trafficking and died shortly thereafter. She couldn’t accept that she was cast out of the palace, left destitute with nowhere to go, and chose to end her life.
“It sounds callous, but no, I don’t. Any love I might have felt for her as a young child, died during those years she was married to the prince. I didn’t matter to her. She never paid any attention to me and turned a blind eye to his abuse.” He smiled briefly. “She died how she lived. Selfishly.”
Paige hugged him again. “I’m just happy you’re here. I still don’t understand why you decided to go to school so far away. We don’t see you often enough.”
“It’s one of the best schools in the U.S. and you know I have a lot to catch up. The tutoring I received over there didn’t cover any of the curriculum they do here.”
“I know. I’m just selfish. Just know that your father and I—” Paige started at the loud crack sounds from outside that drowned her voice. She glanced through the window. “What was that? It sounded like firecrackers.”
“No,” Jaxon ran to the sliding door, quickly slid it closed and locked it. “It’s gunshots.” He turned and ran toward the front door, ensuring it was locked as well. “Mom! Run, get into the tornado shelter.”
“But what about—”
“Just go! Please. I need to lock the front door!”
Paige cursed herself as she ran toward the door below the staircase. Because there was a security detail on the property, she’d become lax to lock the doors, believing that they would keep perpetrators at bay. “Leave it! Come on, Jaxon!” Fear owned her in th
at moment as another gunshot exploded, closer this time.
“Jaxon!” she screamed as she flung open the door under the stairs. She was trembling so much, she couldn’t key in the access code to open the steel trap door leading into the shelter that Ethan had reinforced after the bomb explosion at Jack’s house.
She heard a loud scuffling from the kitchen. She stared in that direction indecisively. Grunts and the sickening sounds of a fight floated toward her.
“Oh lord, if only I had my phone with me,” she wailed as she aborted hiding and took off toward the kitchen. The front door crashed open as a hard boot kicked it open so viciously, it swung back and forth from the force.
Paige skidded to a halt, turned and chased back toward the closet under the stairs. She closed it behind her seconds before the house filled with three large bodies that she got a brief glance at from the corner of her eye. Another ear-splitting gunshot, this time from the kitchen, caused Paige to cry out in alarm.
“Jaxon!” She clamped her hands over her mouth to keep back the sobs. She was cloaked in darkness—not the kind that made the street look like an old-fashioned photograph, everything a shade of grey, the pitch-black kind. A darkness that robbed her of best sense and promptly replaced it with a paralyzing fear. The sounds from the other side of the door, sounded like it was right there with her. She hunched down. Her muscles cramped and she was unable to move. All she could think of was Jaxon. She closed her eyes and tried to find some calm within herself, hoping to bring her racing heart rate down below the level of rabbit in a snare, but it was hopeless. She expected the door to be flung open any second, which prompted her to action. She shuffled closer to the door and pressed her ear against it.
“Find that fucking boy! He broke my nose.”
“Oh, thank god,” Paige whispered at the furious cry that filtered from the kitchen. With trembling fingers, she searched for the keypad. “Come on, Paige, concentrate,” she fumed at herself. She took a deep breath and tried again. This time she managed to allocate it. She blinked her eyes a couple of times, desperate to adjust to the darkness.
