CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JAKE
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I clear our plates and gaze down at my sated woman. Caylee demolished the filet mignon steak, cauliflower mash and green beans I whipped up.
Now it’s time for dessert.
By dessert I mean stripping her naked and eating her pussy. Then finally coming inside her.
I slide the plates into the dishwasher and then stalk back to her.
The seductive glint in her eyes has my cock turning to granite in seconds.
“Panties. Off,” I demand.
Her decolletage flushes, and an excited fear flashes over her face as she uncrosses her legs and watches me stalk my prey.
I drop my hands on either side of her on the sofa and let out a soft growl. “Are you disobeying me?”
“What happens if I do?”
Hmmm.
She wants to play.
“Do you want to find out?” I bite her chin and then lick over her lips.
I watch her shudder and slowly smile.
“Caylee, do you want to find out?”
“I’m not sure how far to go with this.” She gives me a nervous smile.
All the way, baby.
All the fucking way.
“As far as you want. Have you ever been tied up?”
She shakes her head. “Well once. A guy I was dating—”
I push my thumb against her mouth. “Stop. Unless you want your ex to lose the ability to procreate, do not tell me about him being in your bed.”
Caylee blinks.
“Or any other place his dick and your body are in the story.”
“Got it.”
“Long story short, I wasn’t tied up...well.”
I close my eyes, seeking patience and to get the image of her with another guy out of my fucking mind.
Opening them, I can think of only one solution.
Well, there are probably a few, but this one seems like a great idea.
I unzip.
“Take out my cock.”
Palming the back of her head, I watch as she reaches in and pulls my hard member out, and those blue eyes of hers flick up to me.
“Put it in your mouth.”
Her tongue reaches out, and I twitch in her hand. Next minute, she’s wrapping it about the head, licking my pre-cum, and it’s just her and I.
That’s better.
Caylee takes me deeper, and my thighs tighten, steading me as the buzz of hot pleasure darts up my dick.
All the reasons for not being with this exquisite woman evaporate as she glides me in and out of her wet, hot mouth.
Skillfully she laps and drinks me in, sucking tighter, then using her tongue to greedily sweep around my shaft.
I could come in an instant.
But I’ve been saving this up all day.
The next place I spill my seed will be inside this woman.
Well, technically in the fucking condom, but same-ish-same.
“Get those panties off,” I say, drawing my cock out of her mouth and stroking.
She climbs off the sofa and pulls them down, and I smack her bottom.
“You are playful tonight.” She grins.
“Playtime is over, I’m about to fuck you so hard, you’ll wake the neighborhood.”
Her eyes sparkle, turned on by the danger. I know this about Caylee. She’s sensible, always does the right thing, but when I take her to the edge, her body turns feverish.
In response, I want to do all the bad things to test her.
We have time.
Some of those things take more trust.
For now, I nudge her onto the sofa, press her face down into the cushions and line my cock at her entrance, swirling it in her wet juices.
“I haven’t touched you, and you’re dripping. Bad girl.”
Moans from the sofa reach me, and I grin.
“Do you want me to go slow and torture you, or slam in so hard you can barely breathe?”
I don’t hear her answer.
I’m barely able to focus, the need to be inside her as I slide on the condom driving me crazy.
The moment the tip of my cock slips inside, the decision is gone from both of us. I grab her hips and thrust.
“Fuck,” I cry, digging my fingers in.
“Jake,” Caylee cries, lifting her head.
Another thrust.
Another.
Jesus, I have wanted this all day. I want this every day. I want to fall asleep with my cock inside her, then wake, thickening, and fuck her all over again.
I want to know her pussy is full every day, and she aches, thinking of me when her mind drifts.
I should get her a sex toy.
Thrust.
Since when have I been this possessive?
Parting her bottom, I run my thumb over her ass, and she tightens hard around my cock.
“Yes, fuck.” I do it again. “Oh Jesus. Caylee.”
I press part of my thumb in, and she strangles me, my orgasm blasting to the forefront and shooting out of me before I can think straight.
“Jake. Ohmygodfuckinghell.” She scrunches the cushions in her hands and arches.
My dick pulsing as I collapse over her, I maneuver us both so that I don’t kill her with my two-hundred-and-sixty pounds.
Ripping the condom off and wrapping it in some tissues, I turn back and grab Caylee’s face.
Our mouths find one another and we kiss. It’s full of everything we just felt. Long, scorching, fervid.
“Wow,”
My lips stretch. “We’re good at this.”
“You are. I just lie there.”
I chuckle as I run my thumb over her cheekbones. “Not quite, baby. But we should check again in about thirty minutes to make sure.”
“Thank you for dinner.” Caylee glides her fingers over my five o’clock shadow. “And thank you for doing what you promised.”
“Fucking you until you screamed?”
She playfully slaps my chest. “Making me dinner. Not making this all about sex.”
I study her, hoping this conversation doesn’t escalate. That’s when I remember something that has been bugging me all day about the case.
“Tuesday, yesterday, when I saw you at the park,” I begin.
“At lunchtime.”
I nod. “You raced off when you got a phone call. Was that bullshit, to get rid of me, or did something happen?”
I hope I’m not wrong about this.
Caylee’s eyes fill with sadness. “No, it wasn’t bullshit. I agreed to go out with you and we did.”
But?
“Right, but you looked pretty upset. Did something terrible happened?”
I might be wrong about this hunch, and if she digs, I can’t tell her why I’m asking, so I’m hoping she’s in a chatty mood.
The problem is, as Caylee has pointed out, we don’t know each other well.
We haven’t talked about our lives, our jobs much, or the people we work with.
I don’t know anything about her friends or the relationship she has with her family, except what I’m picking up from working at BHS and the time I spent with them all at the wedding.
They all seem close.
But that’s not what I’m asking about tonight.
“Was it your boss?” I ask. “He’s not aggressive with you, is he?”
“No.” Caylee shakes her head emphatically. “Brad? No, he...I’m not sure if I’m allowed to talk about it.”
The fuck?
I had no idea where my questioning would lead, but it wasn’t this.
“What the hell?” I sit up on my elbow. “You need to know one thing about me, Caylee. I might have fucked up our first chance together, but if someone is hurting you, I am not the guy who will stand on the sidelines and let you deal with it alone.”
Her cheeks turn pink, and it’s clear as day she’s highly turned on by that.
My cock thickens.
It’ll have to wait...ten or twenty seconds.
“Well, that’s very macho of you.” She grins.
Macho?
“So, what happened?”
Caylee glances to the side and shakes her head. “We had a patient go missing the other day. I guess it’s not a secret. It was horrible. The cops are looking for her.”
My blood turns icy cold.
Louisa Brown.
It has to be.
“From the clinic?”
“No, she had her braces taken off and was meeting her mother downstairs. What happened between her walking out the door and her mom showing up a few minutes later, we don’t know.”
I calm my heart rate so I don’t freak her out with all my questions.
“That is horrible. Had she been a patient for long? Did you know her well?”
“Yes. At least eighteen months. That’s how long teenagers usually need their braces on for. At least.”
Jesus.
A young woman.
Louisa—it must be her.
Fuck.
My instinct was right. I don’t believe in coincidences, so when I remembered how Caylee had run off that day, at around the same time, I knew there had to be some connection.
Louisa went missing from the area, and the look on her face when she was on the phone wasn’t of someone learning they were late returning from lunch.
I had no idea the girl had been a dental patient, and as that starts to percolate in my mind, so do a lot more questions.
“What do you think happened?”
I keep my response tamped down, because while the case is obviously classified, I don’t want her to ask me any details about what might have happened.
The horrifying truth about what takes place once these innocent girls are taken is hard to stomach. They are sold to violent and evil people and violated on every level possible.
Right now, Louisa will be in shock.
Terrified.
And her fear is warranted. All her human rights have been stripped. If she hasn’t been raped already, she will be soon. Repeatedly. She no longer has free will—she’s a prisoner. A slave.
She belongs to the people who paid for her and are responsible for her kidnapping.
The reality of it, now over twenty-four hours later, will have sunk in. Assuming she’s conscious and not drugged.
Louisa will be hungry and dehydrated.
This is how they control them, how they make them compliant. Using drugs, hunger and fear. She’ll be told that her family’s lives are in danger and if she doesn’t comply, they’ll be killed.
Louisa is now a human slave.
She may still be in the United States, or she could be in a foreign country. There’s a ninety percent chance she’s already out of the country.
It’s estimated that less than half of one percent of sex trafficking victims are identified and rescued. Put into perspective, if one hundred kids are taken, only one would likely be recovered.
“I don’t know.” Caylee answers me. “She has a boyfriend, so everyone thinks she might’ve run away with him.”
“Do you?”
“No, Brad does. I don’t.”
“Brad is your boss?” I ask, and she nods. “Why does he think that?”
Caylee brushes my question off. “He has no idea; he didn’t even know she had a boyfriend. Her parents are horrified, and I would’ve liked to see him show more compassion. It surprised me, honestly.”
Interesting.
I note that in the back of my mind.
“How so?”
“He is well-liked by all the patients. Especially since,” she glances up into my eyes. “...he’s a good-looking guy, so...” She trails off, and I hate him already. “People like him.”
“So, you don’t think she’s with the boyfriend.”
“No, and don’t laugh. Obviously, you were a Marshal, but I think someone may have kidnapped her.”
“Okay.”
Caylee blushes. “I have a theory before you make fun of me. Maybe they want money. Her parents are well off.”
I doubt it. This isn’t a nineties action movie.
“Yeah, maybe. Hopefully, she will be returned.” I run a hand over her hair, knowing I’ll be picking up the pieces of this conversation when she isn’t.
“So why did she meet her mom downstairs? Don’t the parents come to the office?
Caylee sighs. “Yes, but apparently there was a conflict, and Brad said we’d take care of her.”
I bet he did.
A chill runs down my spine.
“So, he knew she was meeting her mom downstairs?”
Her face pales. “I don’t know. Oh god, do you think he’s involved? No way. He would never do anything. Jake, he never left the office.”
The last thing I need is her repeating this conversation to him if he’s involved in any way.
“No, of course not. How could he?” I shake my head.
There are plenty of ways.
She nods in agreement and relaxes in my arms.
“Right.”
“But I should have gone downstairs with her to wait for her mom. It was so remiss of me.” Caylee drops her face into her hands, and I hate that she’s blaming herself. “Brad had arranged it with her mom weeks ago.”
Did he just?
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” I wrap my arms around her and make hushing sounds.
“What if it is? What if she was kidnapped, Jake?”
Oh, baby, it’s so much fucking worse than you could ever know, and I am going to make sure you are clear that this is not your fault.
There was no way Caylee could have stopped this.
She might have been kidnapped, it’s true. But it’s very fucking unlikely.
I lift her chin. “Caylee, this wasn’t your doing. You are not law enforcement, and you couldn’t have stopped it. Assuming she’s not tucked up in her boyfriend’s bed.”
She’s not.
“She’s only fifteen.”
I almost cringe. I’ve lived through this when my cousin was taken.
It was before Becca was killed, and I’m almost certain it triggered my father’s drinking habit.
Donna, who was much older than me, was the first baby in our family—my uncle’s kid—and after she was taken, he took his own life.
Then my aunt moved to another state, and from what I remember, we just didn’t hear from her again.
We don’t talk about her.
We don’t talk about any of them.
Everything began to fall apart.
No one ever stopped to ask how I felt. I’d lost Donna, Becca, my aunt and uncle. But because I was a kid, I guess they thought I was fine.
I wasn’t.
But it did motivate me to join the force. I wonder though, if it was to help people or pay a debt I felt was due?
Caylee collapses on my chest, and as familiar fury rises to just below the surface, I run my hand over her back to soothe both of us.
Can I really make a dent in this revolting industry? Like the war on drugs, this beast is too big for me alone to destroy.
Possibly too big for Black Hawke Security.
Hell, even the United States.
It is a stain on our species that has only gotten worse with technology. I can play my part in weakening the supply chains when we find them, but I would put money on it still existing when I leave this plane.
And that makes me see red.
Still, Agent Reed is right. Someone in the area is pimping these middle-class girls to high-paying customers. Someone with access to them.
Someone like a dentist...
Perhaps.
It’s soul-destroying to learn that these people are living among us under the guise of their everyday lives. They aren’t gangsters; they are our neighbors, our colleagues.
How else do you think a 150-billion-dollar industry thrives?
It’s sickening.
I’ve studied the profiles of these predators. These people are narcissists, sociopaths and sadists who get off on the control and satisfaction that sex with children gives. For some, it’s safer with a weak underage individual, as they were victimized themselves as children.
That’s no excuse.
I climb off the sofa and lift Caylee into my arms. “Let’s go to bed.”
She throws her arms around my neck and nuzzles it. “Jake?”
“Yes, baby.”
“How do you feel about costume parties?”
I frown, nudging her bedroom door with my toe. “Um, neutral.”
“What about a Superman outfit.”
I glance down into her sparkling eyes.
“I’m having a party. Next weekend. So that we can meet each other’s friends and family.”
Jesus.
“Right.” I lower her to the floor and rub my cheek, flinching when I remember the bruising.
“Do you need drugs? Is it sore?”
“No, it’s fine.” I head to the bathroom to clean my cock because there’s no way I’m inviting my family to her party.
Not now.
Not ever.
And I’m not ready to lose her yet.