Chapter Ten
Lonzo carefully read the report emailed to him by his chief security guy, Titus Blackwell. It was not a well-known fact that he partly-owned ZETA—a billion-dollar security operations agency that had successfully secured contracts with the US and British governments for the past five years.
When he asked Blackwell to dig up dirt about Jordana this morning, he didn’t expect that the guy would come up with a chest-full of information. He was silently impressed with what Blackwell was able to come up within a span of a few hours.
Blackwell, a former Navy SEAL, was able to put two and two and finally pieced together how the pictures got leaked to the media. The origin of the pictures were traced from a post-office near the hotel where the Jordana was currently staying. But the most damning evidence was an actual log of a call she made from her hotel room to the offices of the tabloid which got the scoop on the story.
According to the editor who got the call, an unidentified woman called to ask if the paper was already in possession of the package containing the pictures. When the man gave the affirmation, the woman hung up.
That call led to the trace.
Lonzo recalled the things she said the last time he saw her. She sounded so outraged that she convinced him enough to drop his plans of reprisals. He almost apologized to the chit!
As he continued to read the dossier, he delved more into her beginnings—the unfiltered life history of Jordana Almueda.
She was rescued from her father by authorities after an anonymous tip came and alerted the police about a white slavery ring. Her father was arrested and she became the ward of the state. Her father later died in prison when he attempted to escape.
Jordana’s long-standing friendship with Leandro Bastian also became clear. Theirs was a partnership which began when they met in the government-ran orphanage in Sao Paolo.
Bastian was fourteen and Jordana was nine years old. The orphanage arranged for Jordana to live in a foster home. She stayed with her foster parents for almost a year until she was returned to the orphanage. The administrator was reportedly disappointed because the couple seemed keen to adopt the girl in the beginning. She was never placed in a foster family again.
The two became inseparable. Bastian acted as her protector until he turned seventeen. He left the orphanage with Jordana. The two lived off the streets of Sao Paolo and stayed in an abandoned warehouse with other kids from the favelas. They fed themselves by selling stuff to tourists and when times got really desperate, they would shoplift bread and fruit from the local market. Whenever they got caught, people would take one look at their malnourished bodies and forgave the two of them. No charges were ever filed during this period.
A policeman caught the two while Bastian was trying to teach Jordana how to hot wire a car. The policeman took them under custody but took a pity on them, especially Jordana.
The officer erroneously thought they were related. Under this misconception, the enforcer requested the juvenile judge to be lenient with Leandro. Surprisingly, the judge agreed and Leandro escaped jail time and rendered community service and voluntary work instead. While Leandro was paying penance for his mistakes, Jordana got hired as a waitress in a popular seaside café frequented by wealthy Brazillians and tourists.
This was where she caught the eye of Spike Fulton, a famous fashion photographer.
Fulton was still reeling from his recent and nasty divorce and went to Brazil for a vacation. He was also looking for a new muse to spark his artistry. His latest work was getting a lot of flak from fashion editors.
One look at Jordana that fateful day and Spike found his creative nirvana.
Unknown to her, he followed and shot pictures of her at the beach she frequented. He sent the pictures to his contacts in the States. Fashion scouts were very interested to meet the new ‘Ipanema’ girl. This didn’t surprise Spike at all. He knew Jordana had the x factor.
He finally approached her and asked if she would like to become a model but Jordana didn’t take him seriously. She declined countless of times. She thought he was a child pornographer, as there were a lot of exploitative characters in Rio de Janeiro. He managed to convince her when he showed her pictures he took of celebrities and models. She wouldn’t agree to go anywhere without Bastian, so Spike offered to take him with them .
Jordana went to the States first. She resided with Mel in his apartment in Manhattan. Leandro got his visa a few months later and all three lived together.
It was Spike who showed her the ropes in the very cutthroat world of fashion. He mentored her and shot her first editorials to build her portfolio. Jordana was a quick study. She had a signature walk and the camera loved her. Within a few months, Jordana was signed up by Ford and got enough bookings for her to start on her own. At the same time, his discovery of Jordana renewed Spike’s zeal to take beautiful pictures. Fashion editors began to ask for his services again.
Bastian, according to the report, took on multiple jobs, saving pennies to send himself to school. After he passed his GEDs, he refused to take any more dole-outs from Jordana or Spike.The man’s high equivalency scores qualified him for a full university scholarship and the rest was history. He earned double degrees in business management and civil engineering. The man was obviously smart.
The report mentioned that Bastian had a financial planning/management company and a real estate firm. He had handled Jordana’s financial affairs even before he stepped out of university. For the most part, Bastian was a solid and reputable financial planner. He handled the portfolios of high-profile clients, several of whom were celebrities.
Lonzo surmised that the scheme was hatched by the two. Bastian probably saw the massive opportunities if Jordana played and manipulated the media to their advantage. When the “virginity” issue came out and was latched by the gutter press, her name became bigger and in spite of the notoriety, a lot more lucrative. The sheer number of magazine covers alone validated she was a very hot commodity.
As he continued to read the comprehensive dossier, he understood why Leandro was driven to pimp Jordana to the media. In the previous years, the guy made a huge mistake that threatened to wipe him out completely. Bastian invested a huge part of his clients’ money, Jordana’s included, into a financial instrument held by the swindler of the century - Bernie Madoff. In addition, the bad performance of the real estate sector came during the time when most of Bastian’s mid-scale projects were about to finish. The investors, because of the credit crunch, bailed out on him, leaving him with a huge inventory with no prospective takers.
Lonzo studied the attached financial statements of Bastian’s companies and he immediately saw that the man’s debt ratios were climbing as more and more creditors refused to give him an extension or declined to restructure his maturing loans. In less than six months, the man would be in the red. Unless someone bailed him out, Bastian was facing bankruptcy in the imminent future.
This gave Lonzo immense satisfaction. Now, he got all the ammunition he needed. He looked forward to exacting his pound of flesh. Yes, he would have the lovely Jordana Almueda begging on her knees for mercy.
He planned on enjoying her first. He would use her until Thio handed over those shares. Once he got what he wanted, he’d cast her aside. Sweet revenge will be his.
He dialed his mobile and asked his pilot to prepare his private jet.
It was time he paid Jordana Almueda a visit.
Jordana was worried when Leandro failed to show up the following morning. She tried calling him but he wasn’t picking up. She left him a message. After an hour, he called her back.
“Dana—”
“Where are you? You all right?”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. My flight got delayed because of this monster storm. How are you?”
“I’m holed up here at the hotel. I can’t leave or else the paparazzi will have a field day.”
“The weather will probably clear up by tomorrow—”
“Look, it’s okay. Stay put. I’m safe here and it’s good.”
Leando didn’t comment on the other line.
“We’ll talk about it when I get there.”
When she finished the call, she felt a little lighter. Probably because she had decided to own up to her mistake. She would arrange for a press conference and stop hiding once Leandro got here. At least, only compromising pictures were circulated. She’d probably die in shame if it was a sex video. Besides, there was a silver lining to all of these.
“Darling, you got off better than poor ole Kate Moss,” Francesca mentioned last night. “She got caught with her panties down and coke dust on her nostrils. Shoddy, shoddy pictures!”
“Right. And people would search me on Google until I have grandkids. Not to mention it will be mentioned at my Wikipedia entry.”
“Well, at least it’s not a sex video! Look at poor Kim…her douchebag ex gave her the proceeds of their home-made porn show as a wedding gift! And at least you scored a billionaire! That was a major touchdown if you asked me—”
“Francesca!”
Her booker chuckled.
Francesca had a point, what happened to her wasn’t as bad as Kate Moss’ scandal. The supermodel got caught while snorting coke.
“Sweetheart, career-wise, this v-card and sex scandal did more good than harm to you. I have to turn down new clients because your schedule can’t accommodate it anymore! So suck it up. This will eventually die down.”
Now that the big runway shows were over, non-stop photo shoots will eventually follow. Francesca was seeing dollar signs this early on.
“At least the guy you went to bed with and who rid you of that pesky cherry…I’m quoting the tabloids there…sorry…is the yummiest, most elusive, well-endowed guy on the other side of the Atlantic! Uber rich, too. They just don’t make them like that anymore,” Francesca continued in a wistful, envious note.
Jordana didn’t know what to say to that.
Whether he had a hand in the distribution of the pictures, she knew that butting heads with someone as powerful as Lonzo Vitale would be hard. It was a small consolation that the press had yet to hear a word or two from his camp.
Francesca was right. Kate Moss’ return strategy would be the perfect foil to resolve this mess. She’d make “peace” with the press. She would apologize for the irresponsible remark she made a few months ago—the one that started this brouhaha. The public would forgive her, after all, to err is human. Hopefully, this storm shall pass. People nowadays got bored pretty easily. She was banking on that.
It was also time to make several resolutions and changes. She had learned her lesson the hard way.
She vowed this would be the last time she’d ever run to Leandro for help. Relying on her childhood friend had become a bad habit which she had to break. She was a grown woman. She was strong enough handle anything or anyone, be it problems or a human force of nature like Lonzo Vitale.
No more candid answers to the press.
Check.
She’d focus her energies on her career and social initiatives.
Check.
She’d steer from brooding, paranoid guys. Especially billionaires.
Check
She would look and date a decent, nice guy from now on. She wasn’t a virgin anymore. She had sex and enjoyed it. She didn’t have to act contrite about it.
Check.
And enough of holing herself inside hotel rooms!
Check.
For the first time in days, she smiled.
Feeling suddenly spontaneous from her newly-found sense of self, she felt like having dinner at the swanky restaurant downstairs to celebrate.
She was about to get ready when she heard someone knocking at the door.
Drat!
She remembered she ordered room service and wasn’t able to cancel!
She expected to see her assigned hotel butler when she opened the door. Her eyes widened as her smile froze on her lips.
The man whom she hated but also secretly wanted with every fiber of her being stood outside. He wore a dark tailored suit which made his handsome features more pronounced. His wicked green eyes went over her like she was his next meal. The memories of that night rushed back. She could still feel him vigorously thrusting inside her.
Lonzo Vitale.
“Hello, bella,” he greeted, his deep voice cool as ice.
“What...are you doing here? How did you get through hotel security?” she blurted in alarm.
“They have no choice but to let me through,” he answered lazily. “I own this hotel.”
She mentally kicked herself. That information didn’t pop in the Google search.
“What do you want?” she asked next.
“You,” he replied.
The pent-up emotions that she suppressed for weeks boiled to the surface.
“You’ve wasted your time. Stay away from me!” she said vehemently.
The man looked more amused than insulted. He laughed in that low, sensual tone that made her skin shiver in anticipation.
Anticipation for what?!
She moved to close the door in his face but he was too darn quick for her. Before she could blink, Lonzo was inside her room and had backed her behind the door. He flexed his arms and placed his palms flat on either sides of her head, caging her.
Her blood heated up as her body began to pulse and tremble. She was sickened at her violent physical reaction to him.
His jaw hardened as he continued to look down at her.
She lowered her eyelids, unable to withstand his fiery countenance. She wouldn’t let him see her vulnerability.
He grasped her chin, forcing her to tilt her head up.
“I told you we’re not done,” he sneered. “Not by a long shot.”
Both of them stood there, breathing hard as they tried to out-stare the other.
Her breasts felt heavy and swollen as his nearness awakened her body against her will. She clenched her hands at her sides to recover and regroup.
His lips twisted in a slow, wry smile. Slowly. He knew. He knew he could arouse her traitorous body. Damn him.
She raised her hands to his chest to push against him. He wouldn’t budge.
“After what you did?! I don’t owe you anything, you evil bastard! You’re despicable! Get out!” she yelled as she continued to shove at his hard chest.
“Did you sleep with Chris?” he demanded harshly.
She gasped. “That’s none of your damned business!”
His hands moved and held her arms immobile. “Answer the fucking question. Did you sleep with him or not?”
“No! You happy now?”
His smug expression made her snap.
“But that was because I was really busy. But I probably will..so I can erase your touch and forget I ever slept with someone like you!”
His jaw hardened . She tensed when she saw his fierce, almost feral expression that reminded her of the conquerors of yore. His eyes smoldered and blazed with obvious intent.
To ravish, plunder and possess.
Her.
She quivered as she renewed her efforts to get away from him. It was futile.
Like a snake, he suddenly struck.
He pulled her toward him. He captured her mouth and silenced her with a punishing kiss. His lips forced hers open for his seeking tongue. The ferocious kick of lust hit her when his invading tongue breached her mouth. She mewed, her blood thickening with need. He tasted so delicious—all male and totally primal.
His large hands got busy and took advantage of her supine body. One went underneath her robe while the other cupped her ass cheeks. He yanked her and crushed her pert breasts against the unyielding hardness of his chest.
Despite herself, she found herself whimpering softly to his touch— it fired up her skin to fever-pitch and melted her insides into goo.
All that self-talk about erasing this man from her mind evaporated into thin air. He simply threw her off her axis into an unknown universe.
His kisses soon turned ravenous, the feel and warmth of his mouth intoxicating and highly addictive. She moaned when he bit and proceeded to suck her lower lip slowly.
Her arms reached around his wide shoulders to pull him closer to her, to deepen their exchange.
She felt the hard ridge of his erection press against the flatness of her stomach.
She closed her eyes. The swell of potent desire swept over her. She’d go crazy if he stopped kissing her. She ached so much, her hunger for him, so great.
He lifted his head and pulled himself away from their kiss. Her eyes flew open.
They were both panting, their desperation and longing barely contained.
No one made her feel this alive. No one.
She gasped when she met his gaze. His eyes were darker than she remembered.
“Say it,” he growled. “You’re mine.”
Alarm bells went off inside her head.
He wanted her surrender.
No! Her mind screamed.
She belonged to no one but herself!
All it took was a kiss to shut her up. One freaking kiss and he had her rubbing against him like a cat in heat .
This has to stop! She was just screaming at him a few minutes ago.
She was mortified.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’m behaving like a nymphomaniac around this man!
“I’m not yours. And I hate the sight of you,” she spat. But I hate myself more for wanting someone like you.
He let out a mirthless laugh.
“Likewise,” he said softly. “But I’m fucking done debating with myself on why I even bother with a mercenary bitch like you. You’ve got your hooks in me so deep, there’s no other way around it. So hate me all you want, bella. You’re fucking mine until I’m done with you.”
She opened her mouth to dispute his claim over her, she was no freaking doormat he could just ran over! But his lips swooped down and put an end to her feeble protests.
At first his kisses were persuasive, coaxing. She fought with every cell in her being not to lose herself into it. She thought she was winning over her traitorous body at last. Then he changed gears. His warm kisses grew demanding, his insistent tongue snaking inside her mouth, undermining her defenses.
He was laying siege.
And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it except yield.
When he left for Paris to see her, Lonzo’s purpose was to confront her about the leakage of the pictures to the press. While on the plane, he carefully planned his course for action. He’d insist that she admit her crafty scheme to the public.
But when she opened the door, all the words, his entire objective for being here vanished. His eyes hungrily feasted on her.
She looked so good. Scratch that. She looked delicious enough to eat.
Preferably naked.
Fuck! Barely a minute had passed and he was already imagining her naked!
Good thing his reflexes were fast and got in before she could slam the door.
Standing this close, her unique smell assailed his senses immediately. Potent desire clawed its way from his guts. When he took and devoured her soft lips, he was pretty much a goner.
Before he met this woman, jealousy was an entirely alien concept.
Now, the thought that other men, particularly Rocco’s jock cousin, had managed to tap her sweetness gnawed at his self-control.
She may be a mercenary bitch but she was his mercenary bitch. No one else’s.
The need to possess her thoroughly, completely until no man would ever doubt she belonged to him was so great. He wished that he had more hands so he could touch her everywhere all at once.
Shit, he was behaving like a brute! He willed himself to slow down. The night was still young.
He let go of her lips, now all bruised up and red from his kisses. He opened her robe to expose the chemise beneath. He trailed slow, feather kisses along her throat while his hands got busy unfastening the tiny pearl buttons of her top to reveal her full, rose-tipped breasts.
Her nipples were hard points that invited his touch. And he did. First with a swipe of his tongue over one puckered peak while possessively cupping the other.
Her head fell back as she made a low, strangled moan from the back of her throat. Cum filled his balls to bursting when he heard it.
“Sweet,” he murmured before sucking one nipple deep inside his mouth. “Like candy.”
She continued to moan softly, clawing his head toward her succulent pink flesh. He did the same to its twin, softly grazing her with his teeth. She whimpered and arched against his mouth. He almost lost it.
Slow the fuck down, Vitale.
He wanted her total surrender.
He kissed his way down her body, the passionate sounds she produced music to his ears.
Her half-discarded chemise got in the way. With an impatient yank, he tore the offending garment off, leaving her standing in her white lacy thong.
Her eyes widened but he give her no opportunity to protest. He quickly got down to business.
He knelt in front of her but was rendered immobile when he saw the wet spot seeping through the front of her panties. He almost groaned out loud when he saw what he just uncovered.
As soon as he inhaled her sweet musk, he was intoxicated, overwhelmed with the need to taste her again.
He knew how delectable she was. Once he delved right in her delicious folds, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself until he had his fill.
“Open your legs for me,” he ordered before he blew over her mound.
She trembled and tried to close her long legs.
“W-We shouldn’t be doing this!” she said, embarrassed.
“Why the hell not? We’ve done this before.”
She looked conflicted. “I don’t think—”
“Don’t think. Just feel,” he coaxed. “Let me in.”
He almost thumped his chest like a fucking ape man when she acquiesced and opened her legs a little. It was enough to gave him an opening. He gently pried her thighs wider to expose her more to his gaze. He inhaled her heady scent. He knew she tasted as good as she smelled.
“Can’t you see? You’re all wet for me, Jordana.”
“Please, L-Lonzo…this isn’t a good idea—” she squirmed.
He held her hips firmly. He would not allow her to change her mind now!
“Don’t move. I will kiss, lave and eat your sweet pussy because it’s mine, you hear me, cara? Mine.”
“It’s not!”
He smiled up at her. “I licked it first. It’s mine.”
Her eyes darkened. He gave her no time to reason her way out of this. She gasped when he ripped her lace panties and descended on her to reacquaint himself with her honeyed taste. He could have her for hours and he wouldn’t tire of her unique flavor.
“Lonzo,” she sobbed as he latched on her clit, sucking her swollen button gently as he inserted a finger inside her warm and snug channel.
“So gorgeous,” he grunted. He reveled when he felt her quiver at his dirty words. So fucking responsive.
“Don’t…please—!”
But Lonzo couldn’t stop. He wanted her too much.
He lifted her left knee to his shoulder and tipped her body at an angle, spreading her more.
“No,” she sobbed even as she arched to meet his mouth.
“You’re delicious,” he murmured against her sensitive skin. “I want more of your cream, cara.”
This time he moved on to stab her hot tunnel deeply with his tongue.
“Aaaaahhhhhhh!” she cried out in rapture. Eyes shut, she writhed at his voracious onslaught but he held her trembling limbs as he continued to lap at her juices, stroking her deeper and deeper with his tongue. He tight walls clenched. She was on the brink.
“Come for me, cara,” he whispered against her, his words vibrating against her sensitized skin.
She keened and bucked against him, shouting his name in the throes of her release.
Her juices flooded his greedy mouth, shattering his control.
He stood up, supporting her limp body with his while his hand hurriedly unzipped his pants.
He was panting hard.
“Ready for more?” he growled in her ear.
He shoved himself into her still clenching channel.
“Ooooohhhh God!” she cried.
She was tighter than he remembered. How the fuck was that possible? Did he hurt her? Fuck it. He had to restrain himself from moving.
“Please—”
“Did I hurt you, micio?” he asked, his voice guttural.
“No more…don’t tease me…move…”
He surged inside her so deep.
“Say you’re mine,” he commanded, his hips slowly rocking inside her tight passage.
She moaned louder but didn’t respond.
He smiled down at her. He moved, this time, almost pulling out from her pussy. She whined, her arms tightening around his neck while her legs went around his waist to prevent him from leaving. He nibbled her ear.
“Say it,” he ordered again.
Still no answer. She was being stubborn.
He began a succession of shallow, quick thrusts…allowing only the head to enter her drenched center.
“Please…no…more!” she cried, bucking against him.
“Then say the words, cara. Tell me,” he whispered as he slowed his movements.
“I’m…yours…” she sobbed in surrender.
With that, he reared and entered her again, this time pressing deep until he reached the mouth of her womb.
They were a study of contrasts. Here he was, still fully dressed, except for where they were intimately joined. Her lush, pale-tipped breasts were pressed against his coat.
He had to slow down, make it good for her.
“You feel so good. Like silk. So fucking tight.”
“Lonzo—” she mewed.
“Tell me how you like it, bella. Tell me how to fuck you.”
“Harder. Please. Fuck me harder—”
His control snapped. He thrust harder, pounding away at her G-spot.
Her cries escalated to shouts with every slam of his body.
His heart drummed against his chest as he trashed her depths, loving the way her exquisite breasts swayed with each plunge.
He was doing her so hard that he feared that he would bruise her.
“Your pussy feel so fucking amazing. I can stay here forever—” he was barely coherent. “Come on my cock.”
Her inner walls began to clasp his cock like a suction. She was nearing orgasm. Any time now…
She screamed. He kissed her to muffle the sound, sucking her tongue.
He continued to plow her, fucking her through her own climax, prolonging it.
Fuck he was close.
The prickles began at the back of his legs, ascending up his body. His spine liquefied before he exploded. He shouted at the top of his lungs, his cock swelling even more as his seed gushed in strong, unending spurts.
His knees almost gave out.
He leaned against her weakly as they both gasped for breath.
Never had sex been this good.
No woman made him forget his wits. Until now.
He just had unprotected sex with her.
Merda!
She had bewitched him.