“Mmmmmmm…hmmmm!” she moaned.
On that note, I started digging back in. I stroked and stroked and stroked. For every stroke, she met me with a thrust. We kept at it until I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to let it loose. Goose bumps had risen across my body and my heart rate increased simultaneously. It seemed as though Rayna instinctively knew when I was climaxing. She increased her movements, tightened her inner walls, and gripped my body. The woman was handling her business. I lost control for a minute, lost myself in her. My few seconds of ecstasy seemed to have lasted a lifetime as I exploded inside of her.
Once I was able to regain myself, I let up off her and laid there staring at the ceiling. She laid there with me for a few minutes in silence. I wanted to ask what she was thinking, but I enjoyed the agreeable silence as well. After a while, she got up and walked out of the room. Rayna returned soon after with a cold bottle of water. She handed it to me, “You have to be thirsty.”
“Yeah, I am. Thank you.” She had bedside manners. I could get used to this.
Chapter 10
Azmir
Things were moving in a new direction in my life. I wasn’t willing to bet my last on Rayna but I damn sure was eager to ride it out. I had to admit there was something quite intriguing about this woman. I had new business ventures, new money, and a new prospective companion. Life was looking sweet.
Little did I know, in an office in Sacramento, there was a conversation being had about my associates and me.
James Lombardi
“Damn it, Lombardi, you had better be 100% on this or it’s your ass!” Dave Munick, the head of Major Crimes of the California Bureau of Investigations howled as he slammed the file he’d just previewed on the table of the bull room.
“Captain, if I had any doubts about this I wouldn’t serve it to you on a silver platter. The head of the Division of Juvenile Justice is corrupt and is at the helm of a multi-million dollar illegal drug operation. In this file there is iron-clad proof that we have reason to open an investigation,” Jim Lombardi pleaded.
Lombardi is a forty-plus year-old veteran with a superior record of closing cases new and cold. He’s been bounced around Southern California because of his reputation of playing by his own rules. A handsome Italian, James stood six feet tall and was about two hundred and ten pounds with jet-black hair, and thick, dark eyebrows with a killer smile to top it off. He was unmarried because of his love affair with the job. James had a strange moral compass, he screwed many women including the clerks and secretaries his unit employed—but he hated crooked cops.
“Sergeant, Daryl Harrison and I go way back to training. He and his family attended my kid’s Sweet Sixteen. We attended each other’s anniversary dinners. We go to the same retirement parties. Not to mention, he’s one of a few minorities in authority. Do you know what that means? NAACP on this Bureau’s ass…then the Chief on my ass! I am not shanking the man just to satisfy your itching balls. Understand?” Captain Munick scolded with a red face and gasping for air.
“And what? Do we let a fraudulent peer run rampant in our judicial system? What ever happened to prosecuting criminals of all vocations? This fellow-officer manipulates young, vulnerable, cast-aside, tainted, felons into furthering his distorted conquests as a drug kingpin. He had a police officer killed in Brooklyn, New York twenty-five years ago to satisfy his insatiable need for power and money. He then befriends the man’s family, moves the family away under the guise of support, and annihilates the wife to isolate the son. He has the mother arrested on some trumped up charges—” Lombardi was interrupted.