by Linzi Basset
He continued to thrust, emptying every last bit while he reached between them to strum her clit. It wasn’t necessary, Pamela’s raw cry preceded the tightening of her pussy around his cock as she followed him over the edge. Alex didn’t move for a moment, drawing in deep calming breaths. When he withdrew from her, her legs finally gave way and she crumbled to the floor. The spreader bar kept her legs spread apart. The applause drowned her gasping breaths. Alex’s gaze was hooded as he watched her twitching body while he cleaned and zipped himself up.
He refused to give credit to the raging emotions inside his mind. It was no more than falling back into the same rhythm of a Dom and sub scene. The fact that it was the most intense climax he’d had in years was quickly doused by the explanation that fucking in public always had that effect on him.
Alex released her legs and gently removed the blindfold.
“Keep your eyes closed. Allow the light to filter through your eyelids.” He picked her up and carried her to the seating area where he joined Keon, Lauren, Ethan, and Paige. He settled on the sofa with her on his lap and covered her with the blanket one of the club coordinators offered.
Pamela was unaware of her surroundings. She was drowning in the aftereffect of the most satisfying scene she’d ever been in. She cuddled closer against Alex and soon drifted off with one last thought in her mind.
This is where I belong. In his arms.
Chapter Eleven
“Our day will come, baby.”
Her eyelids fluttered closed. He tilted back her chin with his thumb. “No, love, don't hide from me. I've seen the yearning in your eyes. I know you would have loved to be one of the brides today.”
“I don't expect you to—”
“Yes, you do, and rightfully so. I have mentioned marriage when I declared my love for you. That hasn't changed, Jordan. I want nothing more than to be your husband ... but our time isn't now.”
The same memory woke her up every morning and stayed with her throughout the day. It had been a month since the explosion but Jordan still couldn’t evaporate that moment from her mind when the blast registered and the realization that Jack had just walked into the house crashed over her.
It had been a listless day with thoughts of a bleak future at the forefront of her mind. First her brother, Gideon, and now Jack. The love of her life. The one man who had brought her understanding, joy, and hope. She got up from the sofa and went to stand on the side patio. She could hear the light banter between Lance and Lexi in the kitchen. Her heart contracted painfully as similar memories of times she and Jack had spent cooking flooded her mind.
“I promised you a future and I want to be your future, Jordan, as much as I want you to be mine. Will you marry me, baby?”
This time Jordan couldn’t hold back the tears. Through watery eyes, she glanced at the solitaire diamond ring she was twisting around on her finger.
“You promised me a future, Jack, and I want it. You better come back to me. Do you hear me? You come back!”
Her hollow voice echoed back at her as she sank into one of the plush garden chairs at the side of the pool. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t found any signs of Jack’s remains, Jordan never once believed he was dead. Not while she could still feel his heart beating inside her, alongside her own, keeping her afloat, keeping her sane, and begging her to believe in him.
“I do believe in you, my love, but I need you here.”
She swallowed back the sobs and wiped the tears from her face. Her gaze lifted to the white oak tree a couple of yards from the swimming pool, searching for her companions over the past five weeks. The pair of bald eagles were preening their feathers on a low hanging branch.
“I wish I could send the two of you to soar high above and find him for me.” Her soft voice floated through the air and as if they understood her plight, they spread their wings and took to the sky. She watched them circling closer and closer. Her breath caught as the smaller of the two suddenly dove downward and with a graceful sweep of wings, settled on the garden chair opposite her.
“Oh, my god. What is this?” Jordan’s throat closed up as she watched the other eagle follow his mate’s example. The two birds stared at her with their beady eyes unflinching.
“No, I won’t believe it’s Jack’s spirit telling me to let go. I refuse to,” she stammered as she stared at them. The male ruffled his feathers and squeaked softly. “But I will believe it’s you, Gideon, keeping watch over me and giving me strength to keep hoping.”
It felt different than when Gideon had died. She didn’t feel the emptiness, the loneliness like she had then. All she felt was pain and longing. More than anything, she was wracked with concern. Not knowing where he was or if he’d been taken care of after the blast was the worst. Everyone might believe differently, but Jordan’s heart knew better.
The birds continued to watch her in companionable silence. It felt surreal, and it was the first time since the accident that Jordan felt at peace. The distant sound of the doorbell startled them. They spread their wings and with a loud squawk, lifted skyward. She watched them circle overhead until they disappeared from sight.
“Morning, Jordan,” Bruce’s deep voice drew her attention sideways.
She smiled briefly at the group of people approaching her and sitting down. Everyone was there; all of Jack’s friends and their wives or fiancés.
“How are you, lovey?” Regina Blackmore, Jack’s mother, asked as she hugged her.
“I’m well.” She forced another smile to her lips as Paul, Jack’s father, silently squeezed her shoulder. She could see the torment that lay shallow in his eyes.
The somber expressions on everyone's face didn’t bode well for her and she mentally prepared herself for the worst. Jack’s parents’ presence could only mean they were the bearers of bad news.
“We all needed to be here today.” Bruce looked around the faces. “This isn’t easy for me, Jordan, and I know—”
“No, Bruce. If you’re here to tell me Jack is dead, you can zip it. I’m not buying it. Not without concrete proof that they found his body or anything in the rubble that could indicate he …” She swallowed hard and shook his head. “He’s not dead.”
“I’m afraid we have nothing further to go on, Jordan,” Rhone said gently. “Forensics and MPD have closed off on the investigation.”
Her eyes were dull as she looked at him. “So, they’re ready to declare him dead?”
“I’m afraid they already did.”
Jordan’s gaze drifted to the white oak tree where the two bald eagles had returned to and stared across the distance at her. She slowly got to her feet.
“Maybe it’s best that you visit your cousin in South Africa. Just for a couple of weeks,” Joanne said with a teary voice.
“Jack wanted me to go,” Jordan whispered, her gaze was still on the two birds. One of them squawked loudly and spread his wings wide. Her shoulders pulled back and her chin tilted upward.
“No. I’m going to do what I’m good at. I’m going to find out what had happened.”
“Jordan, we’re already investigating, and believe me, no one wants to find the fuckers more than all of us,” Lance said urgently.
“Good, then you won’t say no to an expert when it comes to finding missing persons.”
“With all due respect, Jordan, if you, and us, for that matter, are right in believing Jack is still alive, he disappeared for a reason.” Alex stared at her intently. “And that reason is you. He would want us to keep you safe and out of danger.”
“You should listen to Alex, Jordan. No one knows Jack better than me. When he goes covert, no one will find him … unless he wants to be found.” Max sat forward as he spoke.
“So, you also know he’s not dead?” Jordan asked with hope in her eyes.
“The thought never once crossed my mind.” He blinked a couple of times and looked at Lance.
“We’d all like to believe that, Max.” Lance stared at Jordan. “But Alex and I kno
w where Jack was when that bomb went off … if he survived, he’d have been … severely injured. Much worse than either of us.”
Jordan couldn’t hold back the tears but stepped out of the way when Regina tried to console her. She held her off with one hand spread out in front of her.
“No, I don’t care what any of you have to say. I’ll never believe he’s dead. I feel him. He’s here, inside me, and for as long as I do, I will never give up hope.” She spun around and walked toward the house. She stopped and turned about to face them. Her eyes flashed with an arctic chill over each of their faces. “Whatever you choose to do, declare him dead, have a wake … I don’t care, but know this; I will not be a part of it.” She swiped at the tears coursing down her cheeks.
“Jack Blackmore promised me a future and you all know he never … ever breaks a promise.”
“There’s a young lady here to see you, Mr. Flores. She doesn’t have an appointment and I tried to tell her—”
“No need to introduce me. I’m here to see you, and I’m not leaving until I’ve said what I want to say.”
Michael turned his head slowly and stared at Jordan Clark, his gaze speculative. He stood unmoving behind the massive desk, appearing big and unapproachable.
Jordan blinked as their eyes met. She was startled at the angry flash she thought she detected in his. She squared her shoulders.
Tough. I want information and he’s the only one who can help me, so bring it on, buster!
After Rhone and the others' visit, she’d come to the decision to find Jack … or at least see if she could help track down the bastards who had killed him. Like Max had said, if Jack was out there, she wouldn’t be able to find him, unless he wanted her to.
Michael cleared his throat. His voice sounded gruff as he turned to Rose McKenna, his PA. “It’s fine, Rose. Please bring some refreshments. Ms. Clark looks like she needs something strong and nutritious in her body.”
He ignored the narrowing of Jordan’s eyes and gestured toward the comfortable sofas on the one side of the office. “Please, sit.”
She didn't move at first, then she pointed to the visitor chairs in front of the desk. “No, we'll sit here. I'm here on business, not a friendly chit-chat.”
Michael’s eyebrows rose and his lips twitched as her fiery nature sparked to life. He nodded and waited until she was seated before he sat down.
“You’re just as feisty as Gideon told me.”
Jordan looked at him for a long time, studying him silently. He didn’t blink, just waited patiently for her quiet regard to end.
“Why don't I know you? I knew all of my brother's friends, yet I never heard of you until you made the offer to buy this fucking piece of shit company." Her lips thinned at the expression on his face. “Save me the watch your language speech, Mr. Flores. This place has caused me nothing other than pain and heartache.”
Rose’s arrival offered Jordan a brief respite to gather herself. She placed a tray with coffee and a plate of freshly made sandwiches in the center of the desk and left as quietly as she came. Michael filled both plates with the decadent triangle squares and pushed one toward her.
“I'm not hungry.”
He took a bite and scrutinized her intensely. She squirmed under the unwavering regard.
“Eat, Jordan. You look ready to fall over.”
She looked at the plate and selected one piece. She bit into it and chewed delicately.
“You look frail. Do you eat and sleep enough?”
She could detect genuine concern in his voice. Her throat clogged up, and she took a quick sip of her coffee to wash down the bread that had gotten stuck in her throat. Why a stranger was able to reach deep inside her soul, she had no idea but she suddenly had the urge to be cuddled against his broad chest and ball her eyes out.
Get a grip, Jordan. You're stronger than this! You have to be … for Jack.
“I eat,” she muttered and took another bite. Without realizing it, she’d finished the entire plate and stared at it in wonder. It had been a lie. She hadn't been eating or sleeping well ... if at all. Her body didn't only feel frail like he'd said, it felt weak and on the verge of collapsing. She had to start building up her strength. She wouldn’t be able to help Jack if she was as weak as a baby.
“So, now that you've fed me, are you going to answer my question?”
Michael mulled over his response as he sipped his coffee. He sat back in the chair and steepled his fingers together over his stomach.
“Gideon and I had a business relationship, Jordan. Over time it had burgeoned into friendship. We chose to keep it close to our chests for the sake of professionalism. There's no hidden agenda, I'm afraid. Except that I'll do everything in my power to find the bastards who murdered him.”
“Is that why you bought the company?”
“Partly, but I invested in it because of Gideon's belief in its potential. He couldn't stop talking about it and his enthusiasm to turn his own father's company into something even better caught on.”
“Yeah, he was a very passionate businessman ... to his own detriment this time.” Her voice quivered in memory.
“Why are you here, Jordan? From what Jack told me you wanted nothing to do with the company, which is why there was such an urgency to sell it. I can’t imagine what kind of business proposal you have.”
“I want to know why Jack was involved in this company. How did you manage to cuckold him into becoming involved? He knew I wanted it gone, out of my life. I want to ... no, I need to understand why he chose to be part of it, knowing how I felt.”
Michael straightened in the chair and ran his hand through his tousled hair. He sighed heavily. “It's my fault I'm afraid.” He stared out of the window. His voice lowered and turned hoarse. “Indirectly, the bombing at the wedding was my fault too.”
Jordan leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
“They were sending me a message, and the fact that they almost killed the entire reception of people, is proof of how ruthless they are to eliminate threats.”
“And why would they see you as a threat? Assuming, of course, they are the Sixth Order?”
“It's a long story but suffice it to say, I'm dealing with it,” he hedged brusquely.
She stared at him unblinking. She knew he was hiding something from her. The years as a PI had taught her many things, one was to read people. “I want in.”
His gaze swung to her. “You want what?”
If Jordan wasn’t in such an emotional downward spiral, she would’ve laughed at the incredulous expression on his face. She inhaled slowly. “I. Want. In.” She got up. “I’m a PI and an expert at finding information and missing persons. I can—”
“No.” His voice was flat and brisk. He stood up stiffly and pointed to the door. “And no, it's not open for discussion. I'm already dealing with the guilt from the explosion, I'm not going to be responsible for you getting hurt as well.”
“Look, be reasonable. I can help you.”
“No, Ms. Clark. I think it's best you leave.”
He walked toward the door and opened it. She hesitated but realized he wouldn't budge and walked past him.
“I know Jack isn’t dead, and no,” she quickly snapped as he opened his mouth, “I don’t give a shit what the authorities say. I believe he’s somewhere out there and needs help. I aim to give it to him.” She turned and walked away. “I'll be back, Mr. Flores.” Her voice floated toward him as she disappeared down the hallway. He slammed closed the door.
“What the hell is she thinking?” He sat down on the sofa and stared out over the cityscape. “As if I don't have enough to deal with, now I've got a determined woman on my back as well.”
“What the devil?” Pamela read the email and quickly did a search on the IP address. Nothing. “Who the hell sent me this?”
She stared at the email as she buzzed her PA. “Josie, please ask Roger from IT to come to my office. Immediately.”
“Right away, Pamela.”
>
She reread it with a frown drawing her brows together.
Withdraw the Selected Liquor Stores ownership dispute. You won't be warned a second time.
She had just returned from court where the preliminary statements had been heard in this exact case. As far as Pamela was concerned, it was a cut and dried case. The original owners had applied to have the sale voided, which the new owners, Five Star Enterprises, were disputing. According to the original owners, Harold and Annabella Brown, the correct procedures had not been followed, nor had they received the agreed price for the business. The Certificate of Amendment with the various states, where the different retail stores were situated, to amend the names of the directors and ownership papers, had never been lodged. Nor have Five Star Enterprises signed the new shareholder agreement that made specific stipulations on the sale on how the business should be run.
“Good thing Harold is old school and the brand of liquor stores he'd built up over his lifetime was like his own child. If not, he wouldn’t have realized they’d slipped up until it was too late.”
When it became clear the new owners had no intention of honoring the original stipulations in the sale agreement, he took the necessary action to declare the sale void. Five Star Enterprises had slipped up in delaying lodging change of Directorship and they had no foot to stand on. Legally, according to the registered status of the company, it was still registered in Washington DC and not transferred to the new owners in New York. The ownership was still listed to Harold and Annabella Brown, as well as the original date of incorporation, registered number, IDs, and current financial standing were registered to them. The fact that the full selling price hadn't been paid, made the case even easier.
