I wake up before Reya, with the taste of her on my tongue and the scent of her sweet pussy lingering under my nose. I don’t think a woman has ever come that hard for me. I thought she was beautiful before, but now I know she’s downright scorching without clothes on. I can’t imagine how much better it would be with her taking my cock. I can’t wait to see her expression when I stretch and fill her. Morning wood is the worst. Not only is it uncomfortable, but it prohibits me from thinking of anything other than how to remedy it. I shift, ready to slide out from under her and jerk off in the shower when her arm that’s across my middle clamps down to keep me from moving and her hand drifts lower to squeeze my rock-hard cock.

I was so lost in the fantasy of sex with her I didn’t realize her breathing had changed and she’d woken up. I don’t even think her eyes are open yet. Her hand slips down further and palms my balls, and I groan. Some guys don’t like their balls touched. I’m the guy who likes them tickled, fondled, licked and sucked. Her thumb strokes across the soft skin and I fight to stay quiet. That feels fucking fantastic.

Reya’s hair falls forward and brushes my chest as she rises up a little to place a kiss on my nipple. I do my best to hold still and enjoy whatever she has in store for me but when she takes my nipple between her teeth and tugs a little, I grip her hair and pull. I’ve always enjoyed some pain with my pleasure and she’s hitting all the right spots. I don’t think she’s ready for more than oral with me and I don’t want to lose control and spook her.

“Slow down there, tiger. You’re about to get more than you bargained for if you keep doing that sexy shit with your mouth.”

Her right eyebrow rises like she’s indicating a challenge accepted. She pushes her hair over her shoulder and straddles me, never taking her gaze from mine. Her pussy hovers close enough that I can feel her heat, but not close enough to feel her wetness. It’s psychological torture knowing that heaven is so damn close, but not quite there.

She holds her left hand out to me, “Condom.”

When I don’t answer right away, her right hand slips down between her legs and her knuckles graze my dick as she slips one finger inside herself. I don’t take my eyes off of what she’s doing. It’s hot as hell. I don’t want to look away so my hand smacks at the night table, feeling around for my wallet. When I finally grasp it, I fumble until it’s open and pull out the condom, placing it in her still outstretched hand. She closes her fingers around it and lowers that hand to her thigh while she continues to finger herself. Meanwhile, my cock is still nestled between her thighs with zero penetration for me and I’m ready to explode.

“Reya,” I grit out between clenched teeth.

“You like this?” she asks as she removes her fingers and slides them higher to circle her clit. I can’t even answer I’m coiled so tight with need. I’m ready to beg her to stop teasing me. As she continues to touch herself, I grip her hand and peel the condom away. “Do you want it or not? I can’t hold out anymore.”

“What if I say no?” she asks, her tone teasing.

“Then I guess you’ll be watching me jerk off because I can’t wait another second.”

Her eyelids lower halfway and her eyes roll back a little. “I’m so close, give me one second,” she confesses, her voice breathy.

Fuck, she’s killing me. I rip the foil open and roll the condom on. When I’m removing my hand, her thighs grip me tight and her body shudders, making her glorious breasts shake. Gorgeous. I flip her as fast as I can and rest my cock at her entrance. “You want me or not, doll?”

An aftershock rolls through her and she shivers. “Yeah. I want you, but I think I need a minute.” Her lips are tipped with a slight grin and I know she realizes I’m on the edge.

Wrong answer. I flex my thighs and push inside her perfect, tight heat and groan. Holy shit she’s tight. Pulling out slightly, I rock in again and although she’s wetter, the fit is still tight. I won’t last long with all the teasing before and the tightness she’s giving me now. I pull out and dip my head to pull one of her beaded nipples into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue. Then I switch to the other. When I’m done, I kiss my way across her chest and suck on the soft, creamy skin near her nipple, leaving a hickey behind. I smile at my mark and thrust back inside of her. She glances down and sees the beginning of the red mark. “Elias, you can’t leav—”

I thrust harder and pick up my pace, effectively stopping her rant. Her back arches off the bed as her pussy clenches even tighter. I can feel it flutter right before she screams my name again. The guys on the overnight shift are probably hating me. Listening to another dude have sex isn’t high on any man’s priority list when you can’t have any yourself.

When her legs relax and slide down a little, I hook them with my arms and practically fold her in half to finish. I thrust harder and harder until I finally come, growling her name. Damn, she feels good. I stroke in and out of her until I’m finished and then I leave the bed to dump the condom. When I return she’s on her side, curled up tight. I pull the hair away from her neck and kiss it softly. That’s when I hear her sniffle. Fuck! This is what I was afraid of. I’ve either hurt her physically or this was too soon for her.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head but doesn’t speak.

“Are you sorry we did that?”

“No, it’s just…” she pauses and sniffles again. “That was the first time since Alex, and I didn’t think I’d ever have that again. And it was so good and I don’t know how to act now.” Her crying grows louder so I fit myself to her backside, curling in tight and wrapping an arm around her.

“You’re not sorry?”

“No,” she whispers, “are you?”

“No, I’m not sorry,” I reassure her. “You should act however you need to act. I’m not going anywhere.” I lay a series of soft kisses along the scar at her neck before I nestle into her and wait for her to settle down.

How in the hell am I going to let this woman go back to Florida once we get her shit sorted? The way I feel right now I’ll probably jump in my truck, drive straight through, kidnap her ass and drag her back here.

After a few minutes, she settles and I ask, “Why did you come to Montana?”

“I’ve always wanted to come to Montana and it seemed like a good place to hide. I have no family or friends anywhere near here so no one else could get hurt if those guys found me. It wasn’t the best idea. It was the plan of a panicked crazy person.”

“So you got in your car and drove until you hit this town?”

“Sort of. I took every back road between home and here, stayed in my car at a couple of rest stops, and drove until I found Martha Ann’s Motel across the street from the bar. It was the anniversary of Alex’s death and I wanted a few drinks and an actual bed. That seemed like a good spot. I can’t believe they found me.”

“Were you using a credit card?”

“Of course, I didn’t pull out cash until I was at the bar when I realized they didn’t take credit cards. A single woman on the road with a wallet full of cash? That’s asking to be robbed.”

“But a credit card makes you traceable. Even a low-level hacker can track your movements by where you use your credit card. Don’t you watch TV?”

“Shit. That explains an awful lot. Rarely. Netflix mostly. Alex only watched sports and I wasn’t home enough to watch anything. Well, sometimes if he was in the shower I’d turn on a show about women looking for crazy expensive wedding dresses just to bring a dose of estrogen to the house, but Alex would always change it back.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that so I don’t.

She must need to talk because she continues, “I found out when I was recovering that he was betting on the side. Actually, he was a small-time bookie. I had to have Derrick, his cousin and assistant, clean that mess up for me. I didn’t understand it and had no idea who he took money from, who he owed, or anything. Apparently, there was a lot I didn’t know about my husband.”

“Do you think that has anything to do with the guys after you?”

“No, that all got cleaned up. It took my entire savings to do it, but that’s all square. Thank God for the insurance settlement or I wouldn’t have a dime to my name.”

“When we get this settled, are you going back to Florida and back to your job?” I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. I shouldn’t care. I don’t know her, beyond what I found on the internet, the sunshine in her smile, what her pussy feels like wrapped around me, and the fact that a whole shit ton of trouble has accompanied her to Montana. But if I could decide for her, I’d ask her to stay for a little while just to see…if maybe there is something there for us.

“I don’t know. There are certain aspects of my job I can’t do anymore. I have a lot of back pain if I stand for long periods of time and I don’t have the strength I once had to physically handle patients in a hospital setting. I love nursing, but I need to find a new way to do it, I guess.”

A knock at the door forces me out of bed. I shuffle on a pair of jeans and open the door. Out of the corner of my eye I see Reya pull the covers to her neck and I smile a little to myself.

“Hey, man. Sorry to bug you, but Swede called me when he couldn’t reach you to let you know they have information for you. They’re on their way here now.”

“Thanks. We’ll get dressed. Let me know when they arrive.”

“No problem,” he says with a smirk as he glances over my shoulder. He no doubt heard what we were up to a little while ago. I close the door.

“You might want to get a quick shower. My friends will be here in about 15 minutes to talk to us about what they found.”

She nods and scoots off the bed, dragging the sheet with her to keep covered. I’d love to tell her not to bother with that, but I know we need to get dressed and back to reality.

This time I hear the truck approach and step outside to greet Swede and Hank with a cup of coffee in my hand. “Ya’ll want a cup?” I ask the two men who had the night shift.

“Nah, I’m meeting my wife for breakfast and will get one there.” The other guy shakes his head but doesn’t say anything more. I’m used to guys like him. I served with a lot of them who’d rather grunt than talk most of the time and that’s fine with me.

“Morning,” Hank says while Swede talks to the guys who stood watch all night. They wave and hurry to their trucks without another word.

“Come on in. Reya should be out of the shower in a minute and you can tell us what you found.”

As Reya’s coming out of the bathroom there’s another knock at the door and I open it to find two more of the Brotherhood guys. I let them in and the one closest to me nudges me with his elbow. I scowl at him because he’s smiling at Reya like she’s this morning’s breakfast. I don’t think so. I glance over at Swede to find him grinning like an idiot. Not because he’s also undressing her with his eyes, no, he’s committed to his girlfriend, Allie, but because he must have heard from his men about my morning activities.

“Hey, guys,” Reya says. She gives them a shy wiggle of her fingers and turns to me with a little blush to her cheeks as both men grin at her.

Hank clears his throat to end the uncomfortable silence, and says, “Why don’t we sit down to talk. Guys,” he points to the newest Brotherhood men and continues, “I need you to secure the perimeter. Keep your eyes peeled. No one except Bill Ivy or our guys gets up here.”

They nod, flash one more smile at Reya and leave the room.

Those of us who remain pull up chairs around my little table and Hank begins. “I called an old friend at the Bureau and had him do some digging. At first, Donovan didn’t mean anything to him. Which didn’t surprise me since we didn’t have anything more than the name Donovan and because there are over 35,000 people working for the FBI. Luckily, with the human trafficking subject matter, we were able to narrow it down to 13 possibilities. Only one of those was working in Florida and under investigation for bribery. His name was Matthew Donovan. A 35-year-old white male from Tulsa, Oklahoma.”

“You said was,” I note.

“Yes, he was found murdered on the side of the road in Gainesville, Florida, on May 10, 2016.”

Reya gasps and we turn to look at her. All the color has drained from her face. She moves the hand now covering her mouth and says, “That was the day of our accident. The day Alex died.”

“From information gathered by the investigators, two guys were suspected, but nothing could ever be pinned on them. They’re brothers—John and Chris Backowski—from a bad part of Detroit, who were involved in a gang that specialized in selling flesh. The notes on the case say the brothers bailed in the middle of the night two years ago and tried to start their own operation in Tampa. When my buddy dug into the case Donovan opened on them, he found notes about evidence that Alex Spencer somehow acquired. Supposedly the proof in his possession was enough to send these two to prison for the rest of their lives.”

I cock my head to the side, trying to understand this. “You’re telling me that two street thugs are behind all of this? Not a whole organization? Not the mob or a gang? Just two guys?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“So why hasn’t anyone done anything about them? It’s been a year since Donovan was killed. This is crazy.”

“Other cases had higher priority.”

“I think I need to see what’s on this thumb drive. I can’t believe I haven’t asked to see it before now.”

I pull my laptop out of the case and open it in front of me, powering the machine on while Reya grabs the thumb drive. She’s quiet as she passes it to me. There are a series of video files with time and date stamps on them. The quality isn’t great, which means this was filmed using shitty equipment by someone who didn’t know what they were doing. My guess is it was Alex or his cousin Derrick.

When I click on the first file there’s no sound, but it tells me everything I need to know. The bile rises in my throat because I saw something similar in the middle of a raid in Afghanistan. In this video, there are a group of five men. Three of them are in expensive suits, walking around a warehouse containing several large cages. The two other men, in baggy jeans, flat-billed hats and baggy T-shirts, stand off to the side like they’re waiting. When the suited men approach the men in baggy jeans there’s lengthy conversation and it’s then that you see movement in the cages. You can’t make out faces but they’re the size and general shape of women.

The recording cuts out shortly after that so I open the next one. It’s a similar situation, but different men in suits. I go through each video file on that drive and each one shows the same thing. Sometimes it’s different men in suits, sometimes it’s the same.

The last file shows when the cages are opened and 12 women in handcuffs are led out. They file out of the room under heavy guard. It’s definitely human trafficking.

How in the hell did Alex get these? Was he part of this? It’s a big leap from a bookie who sells real estate to selling people. The dates on the files are three months before Alex’s death.

I run my hands through my hair and grip the back of my neck, trying to decide how to proceed from here. We all sat and watched this. We all know what this is. It’s obvious why these guys want this thumb drive. If it got into the right hands, these guys would never see the light of day outside of prison, and since they aren’t part of a bigger organization they have no one on the inside to make it go away.

“Alex did this?” she asks, her breathing rapid like she’s going to hyperventilate.

“I don’t know if he was involved, but he has proof of others who are. This is bad and it explains a lot. Now I know why they didn’t just pick you off in the parking lot outside the bar. That guy needed to get to you to find out where this file was. If you die they have to start the search over. I’m pretty sure that’s why they tortured Alex’s staff before they were killed.”

“What if he was part of this? Everything I knew about my husband was a lie. I’m not sure how I mesh this new information with the man I thought I knew. The Alex I loved would never allow this to happen to innocent people, especially women. I want to puke.” Her hands cover her stomach and her focus moves to the floor.

“Don’t read into any of this until we can figure out what side of this he was on.”

“Does it matter? The whole thing is horrible. Even if he was on the right side he didn’t do anything to save the women in the videos.”

“Hey, look at me.” I squat down in front of her. Her eyes meet mine. “Don’t let this tarnish his memory until you’re certain it should. We don’t know how he collected this or what he planned to do with it.”

A single tear falls, rolling down her cheek and dripping off her chin. She swipes at it and sniffles. “What do I do now? It’s only two guys. How do we get them? I don’t want to run anymore, but more than anything I want the truth.”