Fierce Justice

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Fierce Justice Page 16

by Piper J. Drake


  He was thoroughly enjoying every minute.

  “I’m not endearing.” She made the statement in a tone somber enough for him to wonder if her happy tipsy was taking a turn into moody. “Not like my sister. Every person in that place loved her. Not like other women, either. I’m decisive and stubborn and bossy, built like a beast and maybe curvy enough to be sexy, if a person is brave enough or stupid enough to tell me so, but no one has ever considered me endearing or…cute.”

  She’d left out fierce and full of vitality, charismatic and incredibly sure in her convictions, and maybe a little psychic considering his earlier comments to Raul. She was fucking inspiring. There was hurt in her voice, though, and a hint of wistful sadness he was surprised to hear. “Do you want to be cute?”

  She glared at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glassy. “No.”

  She paused, and he could virtually see gears turning as she considered his question more thoroughly.

  “Maybe, to the right person. Yes. Sometimes. Not most of the time. But sometimes.”

  He watched her stumble out of her shoes and drop them close to where they were supposed to go on a shoe rack, but ultimately missing her target. King was prudently hanging out in the living area and avoiding being underfoot.

  Jason shook his head. “I’m confused.”

  “Most of the world can suck it. When those people say any woman is cute, they mean it as an insult. Hell, I’ve used it as an insult. I don’t ever want to leave those people the opening to think of me as cute.” She straightened and flipped her hair off her shoulder, heading toward her kitchen area. She pulled a saucepan out and lit the stove.

  Drunk and playing with fire, especially on a gas stove, seemed like a bad idea. “Hungry?”

  He approached her with caution, wondering if he could redirect her or at least help so she didn’t blow up her apartment building.

  “I’m obviously more inebriated than I usually get. Mali has a way better tolerance for alcohol than I do.” She waved a packet of ramen at him. “It’s been a few hours since we ate at the buffet, so I’m making myself a bowl of salty noodles to rehydrate and getting something in my stomach besides booze. You want some?”

  Did she realize how generous she was? “Yes, please.”

  She turned back to her small kitchen area and opened the fridge. “We’ll need protein. We should have some protein in this.”

  “Okay.” He hovered near the stove, watching to be sure there was actually water in the pot and that only the burner she needed was on and lit. She pulled a package of hot dogs out of the freezer and tore it open, then reached for a knife. He edged closer. “You don’t need that.”

  She brandished the knife. “Stay back. This, I’m capable of doing, but don’t get in my way. I need to do this without worrying about you.”

  “Standing right here and not coming closer.” He had no doubts about her ability to handle a blade. It was just prudent to step back and give a cook some room.

  In minutes, she had the hot dogs cut up into sort of long segments. If bite-sized was what she was going for, she might’ve overestimated the size of her mouth and his.

  The water was boiling in the pot and she quickly tossed in the blocks of noodles from two packages. She emptied the seasoning packets in next and following up a minute later with the hot dog pieces.

  “There’s noodle bowls up in the cabinet in front of your face.” She sounded grumpy, but he was glad she was letting him contribute. He’d expected her to shove him out of the way if she wanted to get anything.

  When he complied and set the bowls on the counter, she murmured a quiet thanks.

  Another two minutes and she’d split cooked noodles evenly into each bowl and poured the steaming broth over the top. Then she’d retrieved the hot dog pieces out of the pot. She must’ve done more knife work on the hot dogs then he’d realized because sections had curled up halfway along the lengths of each piece during cooking, so now they each had little hot dog octopi sitting on top of the noodles. She might’ve been tipsy when they’d gotten back to the apartment, but he was guessing she’d sobered up as she’d focused on cooking.

  As she handed him chopsticks, he grinned at her.

  She glared back. “What?”

  “There are cephalopods on my noodles.”

  She scowled. “So? Food can be fun.”

  “You like to make food more than sustenance. Whether it’s rice balls or late night noodles or whatever. You make it look appealing or fun or both and right now you’ve made hot dogs look like fancy garnish and you don’t think you’re cute.” Jason lifted a hot dog octopus with his chopsticks and waved it at her. “You’re prickly on the outside and I surely respect your strategic and tactical skills on the job, but you are cute in a hundred little ways. Someone else might blink and miss it, but I enjoy it.”

  Having said his piece, he popped the hot dog in his mouth before she could smack it off the end of his chopsticks. But she didn’t take a swipe at him; instead she took her bowl and chopsticks to the breakfast counter. She hopped up to sit on the surface with her feet dangling and picked up the bowl with both hands to sip her broth.

  He kept his mouth shut and shook his head. She was damned cute, but he wasn’t going to push his luck and tell her again. They ate in companionable peace. Honestly, the ramen hit the spot and he hadn’t thought he could be hungry again after the huge buffet. But it’d been a solid three to four hours since they’d stopped eating, done the requisite socializing, said good-byes, and finally gotten through the car ride home. He placed his bowl in the sink and turned, holding out his hands for hers.

  She tilted her head. “What?”

  “You done?”

  “Yes.” She drew the word out, still staring at him with suspicion.

  He huffed. “You cooked. It’s only fair if I clean. Besides, you’re letting me crash here with you and I appreciate it.”

  She handed over the bowl and remained seated on the counter, watching as he made short work of washing the dishes and the pot. When he finished, he faced her again.

  There she was, sitting neat as you please with her shapely legs crossed at the ankles.

  He wanted her in so many ways.

  “You are cute.” The statement left his mouth before he’d had a chance to consider it and he realized restarting the line of conversation could darken her mood again. But he pressed on. “You’re beautiful. You’re amazing and I am incredibly attracted to you. I don’t think you hear that enough.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Where have you done work?”

  “Huh?” Apparently she’d hopped to a different subject entirely.

  “It’s your turn to share with me. People in our profession can find plenty of work on the mainland or we can work globally. You started in South Africa. It’s hard to find the means to leave and make a new life for yourself, so I’m guessing you did various kinds of work there before you moved on, but where else have you been before you ended up here?”

  There was no accusation in her voice. She seemed to get it, that he’d had to work in the grey area between legal and illegal, good and bad. Actually, he’d mostly not cared about the latter. He’d tried to stay on the side of legal once he could afford to.

  “Hot spots, mostly. I went where there was solid money. I’ve been to the Middle East and Central Asia, gotten some experience in Eastern Europe, and done work in East and Southeast Asia.” He’d need to have more time and be more sober to list his exact history. For years, he hadn’t cared where he went so long as the job paid well. “I’ve worked a couple of times on the mainland United States and gone back to Asia before I landed here with this last private security firm. It was my first job for them and I doubt I’ll be working with them again.”

  She nodded. “They did try to kill you.”

  He lifted his shoulders and grimaced. “It’s a good thing I put queries out for new positions before I headed to Big Island. Proof I wasn’t planning to stick around to become a perma
nent problem for them. It’s probably another reason they didn’t try super hard. They tried to scare me into keeping my mouth shut and leaving as soon as possible if I did manage to survive. But their primary specialization is actually security.”

  “You don’t think they’re really going to try to kill my little sister, then?” Arin’s tone had dropped in volume to a deadly quiet.

  He approached her, anyway. “I think they’re using her as leverage to make you and your team back off. Which is exactly what you think. I wouldn’t put killing past them and that’s why I’m still here to help you make sure they don’t keep going after her. But they’re not as versatile as your team. They’re good at surveillance but not good enough. I think you can go after their source of funding before they can crack the security around your sister to try to make you stop. I’d like to help if you let me stay.”

  Let him stay.

  Arin was tempted to ask him how long he planned to. She didn’t, because she wasn’t prepared to hear the answer if it meant he’d be leaving right after they completed the current shared objective. She avoided past history and she didn’t want to overthink the future either. His leaving right away was the worst-case scenario, but it was safer for her to assume it was the case anyway.

  In the meantime, here he was in her kitchen, having just finished doing dishes. She’d watched him as he’d completed the simple task. He had a wonderfully broad back and his shirt sat across his shoulders just right. The fabric shifted as he’d moved, washing and drying, then putting things away. He was thorough and efficient in every way, wasting nothing, whether it was water on dishes or time in a tense situation.

  She wasn’t looking forward to seeing him go.

  “I want a shower.” She hopped off the counter. Pausing, she turned to look at him, still standing in the kitchen area, and let the happiness bubble up when she realized he was watching her intently. “Coming?”

  She didn’t wait for a verbal response. Instead, she headed for her bathroom before her deeply rooted caution took back the invitation she’d thrown out. Because she’d enjoyed being with him before and she wanted to again.

  Stripping off her dress, she turned on her shower and stepped out of her panties. She ducked under the water as the bathroom door opened, then closed again. Instead of looking directly at him, she watched Jason strip out of his clothes in the mirror’s reflection. He stood for a moment, gloriously naked and completely erect, staring back at her via the reflection.

  “Hi.” It was all she could think of. He short-circuited her brain in about fifty different ways and looking at him, all of him, her nipples tightened in anticipation and she was wet from more than the shower.

  He joined her in the shower and she was glad it could fit them both. Part of the reason she’d chosen this apartment was for the generous bathroom space. If there was one thing she indulged in, it was long showers or baths.

  He stood behind her, placing his hands on her hips, and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “Hi.”

  One word, spoken in his deep voice and with a hint of his South African accent, and she melted. She turned and pressed the length of her body against his, reaching up to wrap her arms loosely around his neck. He bent his head and they kissed, slow and hot…and fantastic. The hot water from the shower ran down her back, adding to the tactile stimulus as she reveled in the skin-to-skin contact with him. She was almost out of her mind already.

  “Let’s make sure you feel clean, so I can get you all sorts of dirty again.” He held her against him with one hand at her back as he reached for her loofah with the other.

  Instead of answering, because she was way too turned on to come up with a clever response, she helped him load it with liquid soap scented with lavender and mint.

  He turned them both so his back was to the shower spray and started to lather her up.

  Inhaling deeply, he made a sound of deep appreciation. “I can’t get enough of the way you smell. It’s this, all luscious and fresh, mixed with you.”

  She wasn’t exactly sure he was making any sense but she was enjoying the way his scent mingled in the steam with hers, all cinnamon and clove spice and herbs. She closed her eyes and took it all in.

  Mostly he used the loofah in long, gentle strokes. But he also used his other hand, paying special attention to her nipples. By the time he turned her around to lather her back she was awash in sensation, and she leaned against the shower wall to tease him with her behind. He teased her right back, sliding his fingers along the inside of her thighs before coasting his palms over her rear and up her back.

  “Let’s rinse you off now.”

  She went along with his prompt because it made her feel good and because his tone made it a suggestion, not a command. They switched places and as the warm water washed over her, she sighed with pleasure, leaning back against him, very aware of the length of his erection against her back.

  “You like the water?” He whispered the question in her ear as he reached around to her front and dipped a finger inside her.

  She gasped and clutched his arm, but he was relentless as he pumped his finger in and out of her center. She let her head tip back and to the side, exposing her neck. Without hesitation, he dragged hot kisses from just behind her ear to her shoulder. He slid two fingers inside her and began whispering encouragement for her to enjoy. Listening his voice, having the water run over her skin as his fingers were inside her, she lost herself and came.

  He held her through her orgasm, continuing to stroke her and prolonging it. It’d been a staggering burst of ecstasy, leaving her breathless. Drawing in steamy air, she looked up and over her shoulder at him. “I’m clean but you promised to make me dirty again.”

  He growled, releasing her and urging her to lean forward and brace her hands on the opposite shower wall. The hot water continued to fall over her lower back and behind. He tickled her most delicate, very sensitized parts, encouraging her to widen her stance. Then he put a hand on her hip.

  “Steady?” His question was strained, barely coherent.

  “Yes,” she whispered over the sound of the water. Oh yes.

  He used his free hand to guide himself inside her. He entered her in a smooth, unrelenting push until he’d buried himself to the hilt. She groaned, savoring the way he stretched her in all the right ways. “Feels so good.”

  His agreement wasn’t in words so much as an inarticulate groan of his own. He started moving then, pulling out almost completely before sliding back into her. Her body tightened around him, so close to cresting again. She opened her eyes, staring at the tiles and trying to hang on this time, but he picked up the pace. He pounded into her hard and fast until her own cries of pleasure were echoing in the shower. The waves of sensation pushed her closer and closer until she crested into a second orgasm.

  He stayed inside her through it and just as she shuddered through the end of her orgasm, he pulled out and came in a hot release across her lower back.

  The only sound in the shower, then, was the falling water and their ragged breathing. After a minute, he helped her straighten to stand under the spray and said, “Now I get to clean you up again.”

  She laughed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Can I help you?”

  Arin looked around the office area of the marine terminal service at Honolulu Harbor and gave the man one of her sweetest smiles. “I hope so.”

  Kenny had left her a message early that morning with a copy of the medical examiner’s report confirming the body they’d found at Hanauma Bay had been Gigi. He’d also included a separate lead on an employee of this company, privately owned and providing support to container ships and tankers moving in and out of this major port for Oahu. The facilities here were much bigger than the harbor terminal they’d searched back on the Big Island at Kawaihae Harbor a few nights ago. The employee had ties with the human trafficking ring and he might’ve been involved with Gigi.

  The office manager rose from behind his desk, then caught
sight of King beside her and paused. “We don’t allow dogs in this area, ma’am.”

  “He’s a service dog.” She didn’t want to have to call up her contacts at the local police station to vouch for King as a working dog. Hopefully, this man would let it go. “I promise, we won’t be here any longer than necessary. Maybe just a few minutes.”

  The man eyed King doubtfully. Jason seemed to be taking advantage of the man being so focused on her canine partner. He stood just inside the door, behind Arin, and said nothing as he did his best to be as uninteresting as possible. They’d both worried the man might be intimidated by Jason’s presence but agreed it’d be better for them both to go in to ask questions. They could compare notes on what they thought afterward.

  Arin decided not to wait for the man to agree to King’s presence and pressed forward with her questions. “I was curious about your services. Do you provide the personnel to handle all of the marine cargo here?”

  The man shrugged. “Yeah, for the most part. We supply ship and barge lines with both the personnel and appropriate equipment for handling cargo, plus processing documents.”

  “Do they handle the containers or what’s in them, too?” She wasn’t sure if there were subcontractors to the marine terminal wandering around, handling the contents of the containers after they arrived. She was hoping, for once, for a simpler organization. It’d make finding this employee a lot more straightforward.

  “Both.” The man puffed out his chest with pride, going into a sales mode. “Our guys are qualified to handle domestic and foreign containers, the container cargo inside, break bulk cargo, and more. Whatever you’re shipping, our personnel can take good care of it.”

  “Funny you put it that way.” She thought it was a coincidence. No person involved in the business of trading and selling human assets would be so obvious about it. “You have any new hires in the last several months?”

 

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