Sons of Justice 8: Lust to Love (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

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Sons of Justice 8: Lust to Love (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) Page 2

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer


  She exhaled. Not exactly a dream job, but by her calculations she could have enough money saved to not work again in her life in another year, or perhaps start her own personal entertainment coordinator business. Now that would be awesome.

  She glanced at the clock and cringed. She needed to drive home.

  She gathered her things, shoved the two grand into her purse, and then organized the folders with events she needed to coordinate on Monday.

  As she stood up to gather her things, she heard yelling, and then numerous voices. A woman cried out. Slowly, she opened the door to look and was shocked to see one of the dancers, Cassy, making out with one of Fernando’s guys and Pallen, the slimy shit. She watched Pallen press the woman’s head down to his buddy’s crotch, and she undid his pants and started giving him a blow job. Behind her, Pallen lifted her skirt to her hips, pushed down his pants and shoved into her. Anger and disgust filled Brazille’s head. Her cousin was an idiot for loving that guy and thinking he would actually marry her.

  She wasn’t going to stand around here and get exposed to the sick, crazy shit that went down in this early hour of the morning at a bachelor party. She grabbed her things and headed out the door, but when she looked, Pallen saw her.

  He scrunched his eyes at her as he came inside of the woman and then yelled to Brazille. “Stay!” he demanded.

  She flipped him the bird and headed down the hallway, hearing his friend say something about finishing her off, but she didn’t give a shit. She shoved the back metal door open and walked to her Mercedes coupe GT sports car. She hit the unlock button on the car and put her things into the passenger seat when she felt a hand on her arm yank her back.

  Pallen stared at her, shirt hanging out of his pants, that evil, chauvinistic expression on his face, and it annoyed her.

  “I said to wait up.”

  “You’re such an asshole, Pallen. Stay away from me,” she said to him, and he pressed closer and she shoved him back. He gripped her wrist as she went to raise it up, and he squeezed it so tight she cried out and lowered down. He slammed it against her car as she gasped.

  He ran his palm up to her breast and cupped it hard. She reacted, kneed him in the nuts, causing him to release her.

  “You fucking bitch. I know you want me. Your cousin is so fucking jealous of you. She’s always asking me if you look at me and eye me over with desire. I know you fucking want this,” he said, and cupped his balls.

  “Get away from me!” she screamed at him, and he grabbed her by her hair and shoved her down to her knees. “You’re nothing but a whore, like she is,” he said, and just as she shoved her fist up into his balls, he was yanked back onto his ass. Carlotta had his gun to his head, and two of Carlotto’s security guys were there, as well, Ramon and Alvin.

  “You dumb fuck. You ever fucking ever touch her again, and I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking leave you for dead. You understand me?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Fuck, Carlotta. I was just fucking with her.”

  “You stay clear of her. You got her fucking cousin to fuck with.” He shoved the gun against his jaw and then stood up. Ramon and Alvin grabbed Pallen and brought him away from her car. She was shaking, tears stung her eyes and her wrist burned. Carlotta stared at her, eying her over with a scowl on his face, and then he grabbed her hip and pulled her into his arms and hugged her. She tightened up and tried not to cry, to not feel relief, even though she did. He protected her. God only knew what Pallen was capable of.

  Carlotta caressed her hair and then her back.

  “You’re okay. Fuck, I can’t believe he went after you. I should have put a bullet in his fucking head.”

  “No, no, Carlotta, it’s over,” she said to him, and he eased her back against the car and looked her over as he cupped her jaw and chin.

  He ran his palm along her hair as if fixing it, and when she lifted her hand to her mouth he stared at her wrist. He reached for her forearm. “He fucking did this?”

  “Forget it. It’s over, and hopefully he never tries anything like that again.”

  “He won’t, or he knows what will happen.” He licked his lips and then reached for her jaw and hair again. He bent slightly and held her gaze with a firm expression. “This is why you need to stay working for us. We can protect you from dicks like that, who think they can just take what they want from you, use you, or assault you to get what they want,” he said, and she was surprised by his words.

  “Just because Damien runs a business a little differently, doesn’t mean you would be safe.”

  Shit. He knows about Damien and the offer? About me looking into leaving Lancasters.

  He used his thumb to caress her lower lip.

  “Baby, we need you here. Michelangelo won’t give the okay. Damien will back off.”

  “You know I’ve been considering leaving for a while now. I don’t like the crap that’s going down. Things like tonight could happen again and again. I don’t like not feeling safe, and this isn’t my interest any longer.”

  “It will be safe because I’ll personally watch over you at all times. Like tonight, you can’t make a move without me knowing exactly what you’re doing. Don’t you realize that? That I watch you, watch over you?” he asked, looking at her lips.

  “I don’t want you to. I don’t need anyone watching over me, especially not my boss.”

  He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I want to be more than that. I keep trying and you keep pushing away.”

  “I don’t want any trouble, Carlotta. I’m not Chanelle. You should know that.”

  “Oh, baby, I know you aren’t Chanelle. You don’t even date, never mind fuck for money,” he said, and she winced at his words.

  He shook his head. “It’s late. You should stay at the house. I’d feel better, especially after what happened.”

  She shook her head. “No, I appreciate your care and concern, and of course for helping me with this situation. You’re a great boss, and next time I’ll have Alvin or Ramon walk me out.”

  He squinted at her. “We’ll talk more. You know where I stand. I’ll do what I can to gain your trust.” He slid his finger along her wrists and looked pissed off again. Then he looked at her and bent closer, like he would kiss her lips. She turned and his lips pressed against her cheek, and lingered there a moment.

  “See you on Tuesday,” he said.

  She was grateful for the next two days off of work. She would need them to recover from this shit show.

  Chapter One

  “So who the hell was the guy that beat them up?” Cole asked J.T.

  J.T. looked at Cole, then Luke and Farrow as they gathered around the kitchen.

  “Spartan doesn’t know. No one does, not even the cops that found the three guys. But they were military, and supposedly fucking Marines, so you tell me who the fuck beat them up,” J.T. replied.

  “Other Marines?” Cole said.

  “No, this was definitely different. The commanders are doing an internal investigation. One of the men, Turner, was part of Sons of Justice. He attended with the soldiers that got their asses kicked, but somehow he didn’t get beaten up. Was supposedly in a backroom doing some woman at the club they were at.”

  “Nice, so his friends are probably pissed off,” Luke said.

  “His friends aren’t fucking talking. Internal investigators did find evidence of some drugs and a wad of money, so they think that one of them was dealing.”

  “What?” That’s fucked up. Kick all their asses out,” Farrow replied.

  “Can’t. One of them is a son of a judge. A judge with connections apparently, and he used that pull to keep him out of jail and nearly out of the investigation. The other two, well, they aren’t talking. It’s a bit of a mess, but worst part of it, is that this guy Turner is part of our organization, SOJ. Now we’re being asked to do some undercover recon. They’ll screw up, especially with us watching and ready to catch them.”

  “When the fuck did we turn into fucking babysitters? They know
that this guy is a fuck up, he doesn’t belong being part of SOJ, and even if he didn’t somehow finagle his way out of this, he was still there, and guilty by association. That’s enough to terminate his position in SOJ,” Farrow stated.

  “Farrow, if Spartan or the commanders ask us to get involved, we do it. No fucking questions asked,” J.T. replied.

  “What the fuck do we need to do?” Farrow asked.

  “I don’t know yet. This Turner guy is off on Friday. He’s heading to a club for a concert or some shit. We’ll start with that. His buddy, Yorn, that’s the soldier whose father is some kind of judge in the state with pull, has come into some money. A lot of it. Our jobs will be to monitor this guy Turner while our buddies look into this judge and his son. We can’t let these individuals taint our organization. Even though Turner is out, Yorn’s name is on the list to get in, and his daddy is trying to do anything he can to get him into SOJ,” J.T. explained.

  “Fuck that. They don’t sound like they fit the criteria. Look at all the crap we went through. The missions, the intensity of the training and experiences. No one should be able to use pull to get into SOJ. No one!” Cole snapped.

  “I agree. The concern is that Turner somehow used connections he made here to perhaps get involved with criminals SOJ has helped to bring down. If that’s the case, we’re talking treason, especially since most of what SOJ investigates are international terrorists or individuals tied to them. Could be something big, or this guy Turner and his boy Yorn are small time wannabes. Don’t know, but that’s what we’re all working on figuring out. Let’s do our part and hopefully come up with something that will make it so these two dicks could never be part of our organization. We have reputations to protect, an elite organization with morals, values, and honor and respect for the country to back and protect. Now let’s get ready. Everyone is meeting at the Station for beers and the game,” J.T. said.

  “Fuck that. We come here and in a matter of two months we’re hanging out like fucking locals, socializing and shooting the shit? No thank you. I like people not knowing who I am or what my fucking thoughts are,” Farrow replied.

  “That’s because you would scare the crap out of anyone if they heard your thoughts,” Cole teased.

  “Fuck you, Cole. You’re the sickest fuck in the operation,” Farrow replied.

  “Me?” Cole asked and pointed to his chest.

  “He’s got a point,” Luke said.

  “You’re a fucking mute, Luke, so shut up. You’re good at that shit,” Cole replied.

  They all laughed.

  “It won’t be bad and we don’t need to stay long,” J.T. said, and he was none the happier about going anyway.

  “You guys go. I’ll stay here, thank you,” Farrow stated.

  “Me, too. He’s right. I hate forcing conversation,” Luke said, and Cole looked at J.T. “Well, looks like just you and I,” Cole said to J.T.

  “Fuck, let’s go.”

  Twenty minutes later, as they pulled into the parking lot at the Filling Station, J.T. spotted the expensive black Mercedes GT and the gorgeous brunette standing by it. She was talking on the phone, and slammed her hand down onto the hood of the car and then cringed, bringing it to her chest. He knew it was Brazille. The woman was knockout gorgeous, sexy body, charismatic personality, and young. Too fucking young for the likes of him, but he would push that aside for a night of pleasure with that body. The thought instantly bothered him. He didn’t just fuck women. Not anymore anyway. He was closing in on forty and he wanted more than just instant satisfaction. Brazille appeared like high maintenance and then some. A woman who enjoyed fancy dinners, nights out on the town, dressing in fancy styles and hung up on labels. At least that was what he assumed.

  Then again, he could be wrong. The woman hadn’t been around too much, but the few times he saw her, even spoke in a group conversation with her, he couldn’t help but stare. She was absolutely gorgeous, sexy, with all the right curves in all the right places, and seemed nice. Her eyes were striking and a turquoise blue color like nothing he had ever seen before. The kind of eyes that stood out first and foremost, and even before her extra-large breasts.

  She was super hot, sexy, classy, and definitely gained a lot of the guys’ attentions, mostly because of her extra-large breasts.

  He pulled into the parking space, Cole’s eyes glued to her, as well. When they got out of the truck she was still holding her hand to her chest.

  “When you’re in trouble, don’t call me. Call that loser you’re sleeping with, and maybe he won’t be in bed with some other woman.” She ended the call and then covered her eyes with her hand.

  J.T. cleared his throat.

  “Everything okay, Brazille?” he asked her.

  She swung around toward him and Cole. Her eyes widened and she went to open her mouth and then closed it, growled low, and then shook her head.

  “I’m sorry if you heard that phone call. Have you ever just gotten so damn annoyed with someone, and no matter what you say or tell them, they just don’t listen? Grr. Forget it.” She reached into the car to grab her purse. Of course he checked out her ass in the tight jeans she wore. Her top barely covered her waist and he saw what appeared to be a tattoo along her hip. She stood back straight, closed the door and locked it, then attached her keys to a small purse she held on her wrist, the strap hanging down. Her black top accentuated her large breast, and the tiny heart pendant in the middle fell right at her cleavage, nearly disappearing in there. He felt his dick harden, and damn it, he almost didn’t hide his stare.

  “You’d be surprised, honey. We’ve come across a lot of people like that in our line of work,” he said, and Cole chuckled.

  “Sometimes even with family,” Cole added.

  She chuckled. “Well, believe it or not, that was my cousin on the phone.”

  “What the hell happened to your wrist?” he asked, noticing the deep bruising and finger marks as he gently took her forearm into his hand. Cole placed his hand on her hip and looked, too.

  Cole raised his voice. “Jesus, those are fucking finger marks, Brazille.”

  J.T. felt her immediately tighten up and shake. She stared up at them. J.T. often forgot how big he was and his team members, too. All over six feet, in excellent physical condition, and here was Brazille—a dainty, young voluptuous woman, and twelve years at least younger, and completely intimidated.

  She took a deep breath and then worried her bottom lip. He squinted as his gut clenched.

  “Don’t fucking lie. There’s been enough dangerous shit going on around here with your friends, just recently Lauren. So please, if there’s trouble, or some guy, some boyfriend is messing around with you, tell us,” he stated and stroked her forearm. He didn’t like the way the dark bruises clearly resembled finger marks.

  “No boyfriend. I’m not involved with anyone. It was actually a drunk asshole who decided to attack me by my car Sunday morning coming out of work at about four in the morning.”

  “What?” Cole asked.

  “Yup, and only two minutes before he was screwing some girl against the wall in the hallway with one of his buddies. Totally bad scene bachelor party.”

  “Wait, what were you doing at a bachelor party?” J.T. asked.

  “Oh, it was part of my job being there.”

  J.T. squinted, not really understanding the direction she was going in as he looked her over.

  “Oh God, I’m not a stripper or hooker or something, I’m an entertainment manager and coordinator for a place in Ausberry. Anyway, he was drunk, looking to make a move and I countered with a few shots. Things got nasty and one of my bosses and two bouncers stepped in and stopped him.”

  “Jesus, you pressed fucking charges, right?”

  “Ummm, well, these aren’t exactly the type of individuals you call the police on. Besides, my bosses would make his life a living hell either way.”

  “So they took care of him, and will make sure he doesn’t try something again?” Cole as
ked, and reached up and stroked her hair from her cheek.

  She stared up at him and tried pulling her hand away from J.T.’s

  “Brazille, who the hell is the guy, and will he try to come after you again?” J.T. asked firmly.

  “I don’t think he’ll come after me again.”

  “Who is he?”

  “That’s the thing, it’s my cousin’s boyfriend…well, current lover? Hell, booty call partner. I don’t know what to call him, except an unfaithful asshole who thinks he is God’s gift to women.”

  “You’re lucky your bosses and the bouncers got out there in time,” Cole said to her.

  “I was fine, Cole, J.T., really. I just about put it behind me. It was such a long week, and that day in particular, I was up for more than twenty hours, and it was hell.”

  “Twenty hours with no sleep? Sounds like a lot of pressure.” J.T. said.

  She pulled her arm free and then looked at the bruising. “I’ve been looking into different options,” she said, and then stood straighter and gave a smile. “Well, anyway, it’s over. Want to head inside? I hear the whole gang is going to be here. Looks like spring may be coming early. It’s a gorgeous night.”

  “Certainly is gorgeous,” Cole said.

  She swallowed and then looked him over before turning around and walking with them into the Station.

  Cole glanced at J.T. and no words needed to be said. They were both attracted to her, and continued to check her out, and even kept hands at her lower back, guiding her into the place and noticing that people looked. Why did he feel like making everyone think she was theirs? He was shocked. As men checked her out and said hello, and she started to pull a little ahead, he kept up with her and so did Cole. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.

 

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