: Chapter 22

“What do you have for me?” I ask Roscoe, crossing my arms over my chest and widening my stance when we step into the entryway to speak privately.

“Enzo traced the money Anton was paid for his last shipment of girls through back channels to find the source. The trafficking ring is based in Colombia, they use several shell companies to cover their tracks.”

“That could complicate things.” I’m listening, absorbing every detail of what he’s telling me. Yet, my eyes can’t help but wander over to my pretty pink nurse in the kitchen.

“Their encryption was too tight to find anything. But the freighter company was a lot easier to hack. He traced the money to the port authority.”

“What did he find?”

“He got the container number that the girls will be in. We can’t be sure which freighter they’ll be put on, but we know which container it will be.”

“Good, we can work with that.” My hand runs over my beard in thought. Another piece to the puzzle. I need to make sure my timeline doesn’t waste any opportunities with this job. “I’ll have Liam dig into the freighter workers to find us an inside man. One of them will lead us to the cargo ship for a payday.”

Roscoe nods, waiting patiently while my mind catalogs the info he gave me and files it away for later.

“Lexie and I head to Chicago in a couple days. Will the plane be ready?”

“Yeah, Paul and Michael filed the flight plans this morning,” Roscoe replies with a nod. “Your takeoff is scheduled for eight Friday morning.”

“Great,” I say. “Thanks, Roscoe.”

“You got it, boss. Have a good trip.” With that, he leaves me alone with Lexie once more. As soon as the door is locked behind him, I’m moving to be closer to her. Like a magnet, she draws me in with ease until there’s no more than an inch of space between us.

“I don’t remember saying you could leave my bed,” I murmur into her ear, placing my hands on the counter to cage her in on both sides. Lexie’s head turns to look up at me with those bright blue eyes of hers. It brings me back to how she looked over her shoulder at me while she came around my cock in the bathroom only a few hours ago. I want her again, and this time I want her spread out for me, completely naked, to devour and dominate.

“Don’t think a round of angry sex in the bathroom means you can tell me what to do.” Her sass only works at turning me on even more. I wanna fuck that attitude right out of her until she’s submitting to me over and over again.

She thinks our time in the bathroom was a one-time thing, and she can’t be more wrong. When I said I’m going to own her, I meant it. And more than just her body, I want her mind and soul too.

Pulling her eyes from mine, she turns back to resume smoothing the fig spread on her toasted French bread. Who makes bruschetta with fig, goat cheese, and honey as a snack at two in the morning? It’s fucking adorable.

Taking my hands from the counter, I wrap them around Lexie’s waist. Her hands pause as I move to untie her little fluffy robe, but she makes no move to stop me. I take that as an invitation to slip my hands beneath the fuzzy fabric to find her soft warm skin beneath it.

Fuck, she’s not wearing a bra—my hand finding nothing between me and the hot weight of her giant breast. Even my very large hand is filled to overflowing with the ripe weight of her chest. And shit if that isn’t hot. I can’t wait to devour these huge tits when I have her again. My other hand trails down to feel her frilly little panties, only slightly annoyed to feel the lace covering her perfect little pussy. I like lace.

The soft gasp I elicit when my hand slides under the lace to stroke her has me hard as a rock, making me squeeze her breast a fraction harder than I should. I know the bite of pain turns her on, I can feel her getting wet for me against my fingers. I insert one finger inside her, giving a few teasing pumps as she falls back against me for support.

I would do anything to have her laid out for me on this kitchen counter as I suck every last drop from her pretty pink pussy. The things I would do to her, making her come against my tongue until she can’t remember her own name. But that will have to wait.

“I have some business to attend to, and you’re coming with me. Pack a bag, we’ll be gone for two nights. We leave at the end of the week.” I inhale one last time, enjoying the delicious scent of her hair products—it’s something citrus and smells delectable—before withdrawing my hands and retying her robe.

Taking Lexie’s idea, I head to the shower. Running my hands down my face, I can smell her on my fingers. Goddammit she’s perfect. Soft, strong willed, intelligent. She works impressively well under pressure, she remains calm in times of crisis. And her pussy is fucking Nirvana. I’ve dug myself into an insanely deep hole here, and I only plan to keep on digging.