Sons of Justice 8_Lust to Love

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “Anything?” he asked her and stroked a finger down her spine and between her ass cheeks. She lifted up.

  “On Friday, you will be center stage for the special event I mentioned.”

  “Really?” she asked so excited.

  “Yes, you will be the number one woman, the center of all the others. Men will be begging for a chance to fuck you, but only the master in charge can give permission. You will be ready to submit.”

  “And will you be there?” she asked.

  “Of course I will be, but this is Fernando’s show. You do well and next week I will take you to Cyprus with me, and you can meet Cashmere. He’ll adorn you with jewels and make love to you under the stars. You’ll be his queen, and mine.”

  “Yes,” she said and straddled his hips and kissed him. As he kissed her back and allowed her to undress him, he closed his eyes and imagined Brazille. That was who he really wanted. But if it turned out that’s she was helping federal agents, and trying to aid in his capture, she would die.

  Chapter Eight

  “J.T.!” Brazille screamed as he flipped her onto her belly, held her down, and spanked her ass. She tried reaching back, but couldn’t because she was laughing so hard.

  “I was teasing. I swear. Please. I’m sorry.”

  “You better be,” he said, and dipped a finger into her pussy, then climbed over her and dragged her body to the edge of the bed. He adjusted her thighs, spread her wide with her feet on the floor, and then aligned his cock with her pussy and slid right in.

  “Oh!” She moaned as he gripped her shoulders and started to thrust into her.

  She could hardly catch her breath. From the moment she arrived at their place, they started to strip her naked and make love to her. It wasn’t until she was almost ready to head home that they brought up the GIF she sent them this morning. Of course, she then proceeded to send them different ones all day long with women jiggling their big butts or their big breasts, as well as men stroking their crotches. That really pissed them off, and somehow, she got reprimanded for looking at pictures of male models.

  “God damn, woman, don’t go home. Stay the night. Come on,” he said as he stroked slower and kissed her neck, and suckled against her shoulder, while massaging her body. She felt him run his palm along her tattoo, then trace it with his finger as he sucked on her collarbone.

  “Say you’ll stay. Come on.” He thrust into her pussy.

  “I can’t. I have work early, and a party in the afternoon I can’t be tired for. After Friday night, I promise,” she said, and he growled low and deep.

  “Fuck, what If I tie you to the bed and make you stay?”

  “Getting kinky on me, J.T.?”

  The others laughed, all sprawled out around the room, looking sexy and tired from making love to her for hours.

  “I own this pussy and ass. We’re your guardians, and if we say stay, you have to,” he said, and thrust a little faster. “And if I deny an order?” she asked.

  “Oh brother,” Luke said aloud.

  “Never.” He rocked his hips into her pussy hard and fast. The bed creaked and rocked, and she felt her own orgasm overtake her.

  “J.T.” She moaned and he followed.

  He shot his load into her cunt and she exhaled as he shook behind her. He pulled right out and then lifted her up into his arms, and walked her toward the bathroom. She hugged him, putting her head on his shoulder as she kissed his skin, his muscular arms and chest. His beard tickled her, and a moment later he started the shower and brought her right under the spray. She was so tired. She didn’t even want to drive the ten minutes home. Maybe she could stay and just leave early?

  She kissed his skin as he set her feet down on the tile in the walk-in shower. It was large and exquisite, with intricate details and fancy settings. It was pre-adjusted and she moaned as the heat of the water hit her skin and he massaged her shoulders and back. He then soaped her up as she washed her hair, and then used conditioner. She then took the soap from him, ran the suds along his pectoral muscles, the light bit of scars on his chest, and then to his cock. He was hard once again, and her pussy felt wet and needy.

  When she looked up at him, a mean, angry expression met her gaze.

  She knew he was pissed. He really didn’t want her leaving.

  “J.T.?”

  “Hmm,” he mumbled as she rinsed off and so did he. He reached above her over her shoulder and turned off the shower.

  “I’ll stay,” she said, and he paused and squinted at her.

  “On one condition,” she added.

  He firmed his lips. “What would that be?”

  “I set the alarm for five and head home to change and get ready. You can’t make me stay longer, nor can the others.”

  He cupped her cheeks, and Farrow was there holding a towel.

  “She’s staying,” he told Farrow, and Farrow’s frown turned into a smile, and both men hugged and kissed her, then brought her back to the bedroom to sleep.

  * * * *

  “We got some information,” Spartan said to J.T. over the phone. It was Friday night, after nine in the evening.

  “What would that be?

  “Turner went missing yesterday. Still nowhere to be found.”

  “He took off?”

  “The feds don’t believe so. They’re leaning toward him being killed and dumped somewhere.”

  “How so?”

  “They went into his apartment with search warrants and came across some stuff. He had books and logs, phone numbers and locations. Looks like he was running some sort of prostitution ring. The worst part is, some of the places listed on there were military bases, private quarters, and the feds believe that those two soldiers who were found beaten up, were actually part of this operation,” Spartan explained.

  “Are you serious? So what were their parts in this?”

  “The feds and Rangers questioned them, started telling them they would be charged with various crimes, and they told them about the prostitution ring, about bringing in women, and that there was someone who shipped out the used women.”

  “What?”

  “Yup, sick stuff, and Fernando is involved as well as Pallen. The feds are looking to snag them and they should be arrested soon.”

  “Spartan, Brazille is at a club owned by Fernando, I think. That’s where her party is tonight.”

  “Shit, you need to call her. Make sure that she’s okay and nothing fishy is going on. Fernando’s part is minor from what the feds said, but they are still digging.”

  “Fuck. I’ll call you back.”

  “What’s wrong?” Farrow asked, and J.T. dialed Brazille as he quickly rambled information to him.

  “Hello?” she answered, and it was loud.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, of course. I can hardly hear you. It’s so busy here and the music’s loud, let me try to go somewhere quiet,” she said.

  He covered the mouth piece. “She’s fine. She’s going someplace quiet.”

  “Okay, this is the best I can do, the hallway before the ladies’ room. What’s up?” she asked.

  “There was a break in the case and Turner disappeared, the feds don’t know if he’s dead or not.”

  “Oh no, shoot, so maybe he took off so he wouldn’t be charged?”

  “No, they found out about a prostitution ring.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Yeah, it was being run through Fernando’s businesses and maybe others. They’re still investigating. Is he there?”

  “Somewhere. I saw him over an hour ago, but not since then. Does this mean federal agents are going to swarm the place? If so, I’m cutting out of here sooner than later,” she said to him.

  “Brazille, I don’t know what’s going on. You should be safe, but I really don’t want you there.”

  “I have nothing to do with any of this, J.T., so if what you say is true, then it won’t affect me. I already got paid for this event from him.”

  “How
much longer do you need to stay?”

  “I don’t know. Until midnight, maybe sooner.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I’ll be smart and keep a lookout. If I get suspicious or scared, I’ll call you and I’ll leave right away.”

  “You’d better. I don’t like the direction this is going in, or the fact that Turner is missing.”

  “Me either, but again, I have nothing to do with it, so why would they care if I was here or not?”

  He heard yelling and cheering.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “I need to go, I won’t go home though. I’ll come straight to your place. I’ll text as I’m leaving.”

  “Okay, be careful,” he said and then the call ended.

  “We should go there right now,” Farrow said.

  “We can’t. It’s members only and guests on the list. She said it’s jammed packed when we talked earlier. I just don’t like that she’s in a place where Fernando and anyone involved with this prostitution ring might be.”

  “I don’t like it either. Maybe we should go there and just wait for her outside?” Cole said.

  “I’m game for that,” Luke said.

  “Three hours or more sitting in the truck outside of a party and not going in?” J.T. said.

  “We can get in,” Farrow told him.

  “Fine. Let’s go,” J.T. said, and they got up and got ready to take the thirty-minute drive to the club.

  “I haven’t crashed a party in so fucking long,” Farrow said, and rubbed his hands together.

  “We aren’t crashing it unless we have to,” J.T. warned.

  “You’re no fun, man,” Cole teased.

  “I just want my woman in my arms, and in my bed, and that’s it,” he replied.

  “Fuck yeah, that is the best, especially with a woman as hot as Brazille,” Luke said.

  “Fuck, we’ll have hard-ons for three hours until she comes out,” Cole stated, and they chuckled.

  “When don’t we not with Brazille around?” Luke asked, and they laughed as they grabbed their guns, got them covered up in place, and headed out to the truck.

  * * * *

  “You need to step up your plans. Those men Brazille was with, the ones at the club that night, they had friends investigating along with the feds, and they found files and logs Turner had. They’re coming to the club to get me. I don’t know if they know about your investments, or about the event tomorrow night. Get out of town now.”

  “Wait. You get me Brazille. I want her with me. See how those fucks like that.”

  “How? I’m trying to get the fuck out of here myself?”

  “Just get her to your office by the back exit. I have men there ready and waiting. Have one of the men bring her to me at the airport. I’ll have the jet fueled and ready,” Otis said, and Fernando disconnected the call.

  He made sure nothing would show a connection between him and Fernando, or him and Turner. In fact, he had some evidence of his own he could plant on both of them, but Turner was already dead. Pallen made sure of it.

  His servants were packing his bags and getting things ready. The car was running and he would get to the airport in twenty minutes. He glanced at his phone, waiting for word that Brazille was with his men.

  “Otis?” He heard Chanelle’s voice. He completely forgot about her.

  “I need to go away for business.”

  “Let me go with you.” She hurried to him.

  “No. You can’t come. I need you to stay and do the event Friday. The men are expecting you,” he told her and pushed her hands away from him. He walked over to the computer and his desk. Pictures of Brazille were scattered there.

  “What is this? Why do you have these?” she demanded to know.

  “For Friday’s event. She was going to be part of it, too.”

  “Why? I thought I was center and part of it?”

  “You are. She’s a special request. Men will pay a lot of money for her, for that body, and to explore it and take from it,” he said, lifting a picture and staring at her breasts, her lips, and knowing he would have Brazille in his possession in no time. Wait until Cashmere saw her in person. He was already going crazy over her. Demanding to see her now, to have her now, and not next week.

  “I’m better than she is. I’m prettier, and she won’t submit to you. I’m better!” she screamed at him, and gave Otis a shove.

  He backhanded her across the mouth as his guards came in. “Take her out of here. Call the trainer and have him teach her a thing or two about respect.”

  They grabbed her and dragged her out of the room screaming and crying.

  Chanelle was nothing like Brazille. It was time for a vacation. A time to slowly, carefully train the woman that could quite be the longest lover he and Cashmere may ever have.

  * * * *

  “I don’t know what’s going on. What do you mean someone got hurt?” Brazille asked, following Fernando into his office. When she walked inside, a man was bent over in a chair. She walked over to him.

  “Are you okay? What happened?” she asked, and as she bent over she felt the prick to her neck. She turned and another man stood there holding a syringe and smiling.

  “Time for a little nap,” he said, and she shoved at him, then decked him in the nose, and ran out the door. Fernando ran after her. “Don’t let her escape,” he said, and another guard appeared and struck her across the mouth. She fell against the wall, her vision blurred and she felt her cellphone fall from her hip and land on the floor. “Get her to the car and to the airport quickly,” Fernando said, and the man scooped her up and carried her as her body went numb and she felt nothing as darkness overtook her vision.

  * * * *

  “No! No, no, no!” J.T. roared as they got to the club and saw all the federal agents and police as they made their way inside, where they were informed that Brazille was taken.

  They had nothing, absolutely no leads as these federal agents ran around like chickens with no heads. He immediately got on the phone with Spartan and explained the situation.

  “Son of a bitch. Okay, let’s call our people in on this. We’ll look at everyone who seemed connected. Fernando, Pallen, that guy Otis Ressling, and her boss Carlotta, too. Everyone. We’ll bring them in, our style. We’ll do whatever is necessary to find her J.T,” Spartan said, and he ran his hand along his beard and wanted to rip someone to pieces. Who took Brazille, and why?

  “J.T. they have Fernando in custody in the backroom. He isn’t talking,” Luke said from the doorway. His team was already trying to get answers. Cole and Farrow were off to the side and talking to a guy who looked familiar. He was at that party at Benzingers.

  J.T. followed Luke into the hallway and some agents tried to stop them. Luke shoved his hands down.

  “We’re part of this investigation and our woman is missing. If this dick knows something, he’d better start talking,” Luke threatened.

  “You aren’t part of this investigation. In fact, we’ll be looking into your background deeper with the new information we just discovered,” the agent said to them.

  “What new information?” Luke asked.

  “Fernando said that this prostitution ring was being run by Turner, and Sons of Justice was a cover for certain events. He also said that transportation across the United States of these women to get to clients was done from a nearby base, and women were transported to the same campground you reside on,” the agent said.

  J.T. leaned against the wall. “And you fucking believe him?” Luke asked, all fired up.

  J.T. locked gazes with Fernando. He could tell the guy was not only lying, but possibly buying time for whoever took Brazille.

  “We’ll need to look into things, so in the interim, don’t go anywhere. Stay here,” the agent warned Luke.

  “Fuck you, and fuck him. He’s a lying sack of shit,” Luke said to the agent.

  “Funny how he suddenly comes up with this bullshit information and you’re buying it. Did
you find Turner yet? How about asking Fernando where he’s at, and also about the judge and his son? Seems pretty interesting that all these people are disappearing, and Fernando is still here. Maybe he framed those other people, and is now trying to frame all of us. But it’s him who has been running this illegal prostitution ring.”

  “We’ll figure it out. Get them out of here,” the agent said to two other agents.

  One of them grabbed his arm, and J.T. puffed out his chest.

  “Want that arm to stay whole, son? You remove that hand now,” he said, and the agent removed his hand and stepped back.

  “Why take Brazille? What does she have to do with any of this?” Luke asked.

  “Hopefully not what I’m thinking.”

  “What’s that?” Luke asked.

  “That whoever was running this operation, was involved with these men and was around Brazille, and maybe took interest in her for you know what.”

  Luke’s jaw dropped and anger filled his expression. “Her body? Mother fucker, I’m going to kill these people. With my bare fucking hands, J.T.,” Luke said as they headed back through the club.

  “J.T.!” Cole called his name and he and Luke headed over to him as Cole spoke on his cellphone.

  “Spartan has men on their way. Rossi sent Falzone and Messina over to Otis Ressling’s place. I looked at Brazille’s phone and her appointment schedule, and she was supposed to meet with Ressling tomorrow about some sort of party next Friday. Cole got some information out of Fernando’s buddy over there, and he said that next Friday night was a big event at the private club an hour from town. Said he heard it was a men’s only thing, and last year it got really rowdy. Prostitutes were brought in and bid on, and there was one special woman placed into the center. J.T., there was some gossip that men were asking the coordinator to have Brazille as the center woman.”

  “Who is the coordinator?” J.T. asked as bile rose in his throat.

  “They don’t know. No one does except Fernando, and that prick isn’t talking, I’m sure,” Luke said to them.