The acceleration of his heart rate was indicative of the desire to pound her with all the lust that was raging through him. But he didn’t. Slow and steady will win the race… for tonight at least.
“It sure does, love,” he whispered as he flexed his cock, smiling as she caught her breath.
Brock nuzzled his face between her breasts, lashing at the succulent tips of her nipples with his tongue. Jordan responded with sensual orbits against him that awakened a hunger for a release only she could offer him.
“Oh god, Brock. I need to… I have to…”
Jordan’s body shuddered. She started to ride him, hard and fast, with a wildness that spurred the beast inside him to life.
“Goddamn, Jordan, slow down,” he urged, doing his best to keep his rising climax at bay. “Jesus!” He shouted when she reached back and squeezed his balls, hard, and bucked wildly on top of him.
“No. I’m done with slow. I want it hard and fast, Brock. Give it to me!” Jordan demanded in a hoarse cry.
“Remember, my sweet fiancé, you asked for it,” he warned as he clamped his hands around her hips as a guide while he began pounding into her.
Jordan’s ecstatic moans drifted on the warm breeze toward the gentle ripple of the ocean.
He thrust and plundered. Their bodies were aflame with demands for more, until their hoarse cries echoed toward the distant moon. Her pulse pounded in her ears as pleasure washed over her in tumultuous waves of ecstasy, drowning her in the demand of the climax that took control of their bodies.
Jordan wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. Brock didn’t protest, only returned the favor. A shuddering sigh exposed his emotional turmoil unleashed by the euphoric coupling. He was shattered by the feelings that swirled inside him. For the first time in his life, he felt whole— complete and struggled to overcome the prodigious need to give, to hold and to protect.
Jordan Sutton? only her.
The woman he loved more than life itself.
Chapter Twenty
Four months later… The Cobra Headquarters at Seal Rocks Beach...
“Remember I found that the Swiss bank accounts associated with the sex rings are in Isabella Boneiro’s name?” Cruz said as Jared and Brock walked into the operation’s room a week later.
“I do. Did you find anything to clear up our belief that she had nothing to do with it?” Jared stared at the images on the monitors filling the one wall of the room.
“Please tell me we can pin it on Luca.” Brock hooked a leg over the corner of a desk as he sipped on a steaming cup of black coffee.
“Afraid not. But, if we needed anything more to indict Marco with, the answer is yes. Everything I managed to find indicates he was the one behind the establishment of the accounts. However, the intel I just uncovered proves something completely unexpected that further discounts the possibility he was behind it.”
“Christ Almighty! Spit it out, Cruz. I’m not in the mood to play charades this morning.” Brock was irritated that they hadn’t been able to find Luca anywhere.
“Several large cash withdrawals were being made monthly from three Swiss bank accounts then redeposited, in quantities of less than ten thousand dollars, into local accounts in the U.S. over the past two years— just enough to keep it under the IRS radar. This was consistent and then it became more frequent going from monthly to weekly. The change in scheduling seemed to coincide with the exposure of the pedophile ring.”
“Into whose accounts were the funds being deposited?”
“Various private corporations, most of which are owned by none other than Isabella Boneiro.” Cruz typed in a command. “The day Marco was sentenced to life imprisonment in the FDX maximum security penitentiary, the Swiss accounts were closed. Those funds were then wired into three accounts in the Cayman Islands.”
“Two accounts are in her name. The third is in the name of one... Angelo Boneiro.” Brock read the details from the screen. “What the fuck?”
“So, we can assume since Marco is in jail and had no opportunity to move the funds, it was done either by Luca or…” Jared’s voice drifted off. The revelation that his mother was even more duplicitous than he had thought, left him numb.
“Isabella Boneiro,” Tanner finished the thought. “Which could mean she was either made aware of the money by Marco and instructed to move it before the FBI laid administrative forfeiture on it, or…”
“Or she’s the mastermind behind all of it,” Jared sounded defeated. Over the years he’d kept a picture of the woman he remembered, when he was a little boy, alive in his mind. Caring, loving and firmly resolute that Marco’s criminal career wouldn’t affect her children or interfere with them living a normal life. It was because of her that he had found the strength to defy his father and refuse to become involved in street crime as a junior associate. It astonished him to think that it had all been a ruse, that she had become what she had tried to protect her sons from— a hardened Mafiosa.
“How is it possible that the FBI wasn’t aware of those accounts after the raid on the pedophile ring?” Tanner stared at the screen thoughtfully.
“They did know. I personally passed on all the relevant information to the Director of FBI International Operations Division dealing with legal attachés. I have to admit, I had been waiting for them to contact me with questions or information of seizure but to date, not a damn thing.” Cruz looked at Jared. “Which begs the question as to whether yet another corrupt government official is in bed with the Mafia Commission.”
“It doesn’t surprise me one bit.” Jared ran a tired hand over his eyes. “What about Luca? Have any of our teams found a trace of him?”