A Hope City Duet

by Kris Michaels

  "Yeah, something strong, please?"

  "You got it." He leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her.

  She smiled at him again. "I'm fine." She'd reassure him as many times as it took. Having him watch over her was a priceless gift. He'd been hovering since Rich had tried to kill her. Her smile froze in place, and she blinked that thought away. She didn't want him to see the shattered web of nerves underneath the veneer. Instead of releasing her, he wrapped his arm around her waist and walked with her to the kitchen.

  She knew she'd been quiet on the ride home. Brock had just held her hand and let her have the time, his quiet strength there for her should she need it.

  She sat down at the small table and waited until he'd poured them both a two-finger measure of bourbon. She downed the liquor in one go… and the flames of hell scalded her throat. "Oh, fuck," she rasped with the infinitesimal amount of air her lungs managed to claim. Tears filled her eyes and her nose clogged. She coughed and managed to suck in some air only to cough again and again. A paper napkin was shoved into her hand, and she gratefully used it to blow her nose. "Whoa, fuck, note to self don't do that... again." Kallie blinked at Brock who was on his knee beside her.

  He opened his fist, displaying a small black velvet box. He slowly reached up with his other hand and opened the lid. "I was going to wait until Valentine's Day, but today made me realize I didn't want to wait a minute longer. I almost lost you. It terrified me. I need you in my life. I need you to be my wife, my partner, and my friend. With our careers, I can promise you more fucked up shit than you should have to deal with, and you'll have to put up with my family, too." Brock dropped his hand, taking the ring from her view. "Fuck, that's not selling this very well is it?"

  Kallie laughed and ran her hand down his arm to the hand that held the ring. "You had me at the first murder investigation. The fucked-up shit and family balance each other out. Good with the bad."

  Brock's brows drew together. "The family's the good part, right?"

  Kallie threw back her head and laughed. "The best part."

  Brock held her hand and slid the small round solitaire onto her finger. It was absolutely perfect. "So that's a yes? You'll marry me?"

  She leaned forward and kissed him. "Yes, I'll marry you."

  "You know what that means, right?" Brock stood, still holding her hand in his.

  She blinked and shook her head. "Ah… no."

  "Proposal sex, acceptance sex, and then fantastic engagement sex." He helped her to her feet.

  "Oh, that..." She laughed as he nodded his head, a cheesy smile plastered his face.

  "Yeah, that." He dropped her hand and cupped her face. “Let me make love to you until what happened tonight is a distant memory.” His smile faded as he stared into her eyes.

  She couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her at their intense connection. She sighed and leaned into him. “That could take a long, long time.” The emotion she’d been trying to fight cracked through and her eyes filled with tears. Happy tears, but it was a crack in the dam.

  His thumb wiped away a fat drop that pushed over the edge of her eyelashes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here, and I’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved.” He stood and brought her up with him. He lowered and placed a tender, almost-there kiss on her lips. Kallie burrowed into his arms, and he wrapped her up, cocooned her in safety and, most importantly, love. What she’d had with Rich had never been this.

  Brock led them through the small apartment. He carefully removed her shirt, kissing the exposed skin of her shoulders. His fingers traveled over her skin, raising goose flesh in their wake. He unfastened her holster from her jeans and placed her service weapon on the nightstand before he unfastened his secondary weapon and placed it beside hers. The fact he didn’t have his primary weapon jolted her from the moment. Rich’s actions hit her again, stealing all her joy.

  “No, this time isn’t about him. It’s about you and me. Our lives together. He doesn’t have a place between us. Not now, not ever.” Brock kissed her until she was breathless. He didn’t dominate her, but led her higher than she ever dreamed she could go.

  His fingers trailed over her skin and cast off her bra. Brock lowered her to the mattress, his strength holding her when her balance no longer could. He’d never let her fall. She knew that as surely as she knew she’d pull oxygen into her lungs with the next breath. Brock was a constant, a rock, and he was hers.

  When he slid inside her, the unsheathed heat of his cock felt delicious. She cradled him in between her legs, holding onto him as his hands and mouth made her feel like a princess. If this was a fairytale, she never wanted to wake up. She’d met her prince. He wasn’t perfect, but then again, neither was she. He was a man-child, coarse and foul-mouthed at times. He also worked too hard, drank too much coffee, slept fewer hours than any person she’d ever met, and had problems being civil to her new partner. Brock King wasn’t perfect, but he was hers and hers alone.

  Thoughts of anything but Brock seeped from her mind as he played her body like a master musician plays a fine instrument. He knew how to touch her to make her insane with desire. He’d learned just how much pressure to apply to her nipples to send waves of pleasure through her body. His breathless kisses peppered with erotic whispers of love and forever pushed a tidal wave of prickling sensitivity through her.

  “Oh, God, yes,” she sighed after he moved her leg and thrust deeper inside her, the connection between them as profound as it could be. Her body tightened like a bow pulled to the breaking point. This was the moment she’d needed, the cresting accumulation of all the sensations sitting at the precipice of an explosive crescendo. He thrust again, his body pushing into and against hers, the friction, inside and out, launched her into orgasmic bliss.

  “You’re beautiful.” His breathless words snapped her eyes open as she gasped for air. “You are the most beautiful thing in the world. I love you.” His thrusts became erratic and she felt him climax. The corded muscles of his neck and shoulders showed in deep striations. His arms bulged as he held himself up, careful, even as he lost control, not to crush her under his weight. His head dropped to her shoulder where his breath cooled her heated skin with hurried pants.

  When he finally lifted his head, she smiled up at him. “I love you, Brock. I love you for who you are with me and for the man you are when you are at work. I love that you are a grown ass, foul talking, aggravating and demanding detective and you’re still a momma’s boy. I adore the way you treat your friends, and I’m proud to be yours.”

  “I’m not a momma’s boy.” His brow furrowed as he looked down at her.

  “Really, that is what you took away from what I just said?”

  He couldn’t hide the smile, even though she knew he tried. “Well, no, all that other stuff was cool and all…”

  Kallie reached for the man’s ribs and dug her fingers into his sides. He shrieked like a teenage girl and jumped from bed. “Stop!” He held up his hand when she rose to her knees and crawled toward him. “Tickling? Really?”

  “Getcha ass back in bed, Detective.” Kallie stopped at the edge of the bed and licked her lips. “We’ve done proposal sex, but we still have acceptance and engagement sex to celebrate.”

  “Oh, yeah… that.” A cocky grin spread across his face, but he stalled just beyond her reach. “Tickling is not sexy.”

  “Tickling is very sexy, but I promise not to use it again tonight.”

  “With great power…”

  “Yeah, I know. Great responsibility, now getcha ass in bed before I decide to take you to the floor and tickle you again.”

  “Damn, that threat shouldn’t be that hot.” Brock eased into bed and rolled her on top of him.

  “Why’s that?” She leaned down and licked up his neck, stopping at his earlobe, taking that into her mouth.

  “The fact that if you tried hard enough you might be able to take me down.” Brock shuddered
when she nipped his lobe.

  “We’ll experiment sometime.” She straddled his hips and pushed against his cock. “Right now, I want my fiancé inside me.”

  “Fiancé.” Brock smiled and lifted her hand from his chest. He kissed the ring and then tugged her down to his lips. “I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes I’ll make.”

  “Mistakes happen. We’ll figure it out. Together.” She leaned down and kissed the man she was going to marry and spend the rest of her life with. The realization settled deep inside her, became part of her, and solidified her knowledge that Brock King was hers, forever—a forever that would be earned with hard work and determination to be what each other needed. Forever.

  Kallie stretched and sat up in bed. Brock had left their bed early, called out. She'd rolled over and promptly fell back into an exhausted sleep. Grant wasn't picking her up until about noon tomorrow. They had interviews scheduled for later in the day, but Grant would handle them alone. They couldn't stop the world, and crime didn't take a break. She glanced at the engagement ring on her hand. It was perfect. A small round diamond. Nothing flashy, she wouldn't have worn anything flashy and Brock knew that about her. He knew everything about her.

  Rich was behind bars. Again. She could breathe easier, for now. The court system was good, but fallible. Knowing he was behind bars gave her a semblance of peace. What Rich's actions had torn from her, Brock had repaired.

  She got out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt and pair of shorts before she padded to the kitchen and Brock's collection of coffee pots. She had time to make a full pot and drink it. A luxury. As she was pouring a cup of coffee, she heard keys jingling from the hall. "Kallie?"

  "In the kitchen." She lifted a mug the size of a salad bowl to her lips and sipped the fresh brew.

  Brock's head and only his head appeared in the door. She blinked and frowned. "What are you doing?"

  "I… ah... I did a thing."

  "A thing? Is this thing female, sexy and single?"

  Brock's eyes enlarged. "Ah… female and single, yes. Sexy? No."

  Kallie put her coffee cup down and crossed her arms over her chest. "I haven't had a full cup of coffee, King. Stop fucking around and spill it."

  "Okay." He stepped into the doorway and held out both hands. "You know Jordan is going to come back eventually. I know how much you love Fester and I thought maybe…”

  "Oh, Brock..." She moved across the floor as she stared at the small, fluffy white kitten lying on her back in his hands. She had a green bow tied around her neck and was bending into contortions trying to get at the ribbon.

  "Bettis' cat got knocked up. He was describing the kittens yesterday. I thought maybe... Awww… damn it. You weren't supposed to cry."

  Kallie wiped at her cheeks. "Happy tears." She reached out and stroked the kitten’s pudgy belly. It twisted and batted at her fingers. "Oh, she's sassy!"

  "She's got tons of attitude." Brock extended his hands and she took charge of the tiny fluffball. "Is it too soon for us to get a pet?"

  Kallie shook her head and pulled the ribbon from the kitten. It rolled onto its back and swatted at the satin. "No. Not too soon." She smiled up at him. "Thank you."

  "I got all the stuff for her downstairs in the car. I wasn't going to lug it up here if you didn't like her."

  The kitten meowed and batted at Brock's fingers when he reached out to pet her. "What are you going to name her?"

  She lifted the kitten and looked up at the little furball. Her green eyes were wide, and she meowed her discontent––loudly. "She's got a ton of attitude, doesn't she?"

  "A ton." Brock moved behind her and wrapped his arms lightly around her waist.

  She lowered the kitten to the floor and watched as she reared up and attacked the green ribbon that had fallen to the floor. "How about Sassy?"

  Fester poked his head around the corner and the kitten arched her back and hissed before she skittered after the bigger cat.

  He chuckled and rewrapped his arms around her when she stood. "I think that's perfect."

  She leaned into him and closed her eyes. "Brock?"

  He gave her a small squeeze. "Yeah?"

  "I love you. If this is a dream, never wake me up."

  "We're real, babe. We're strong. We're together, and we'll last a lifetime. Together."

  Epilogue

  Brody

  Brody jogged into the building that the Joint Drug Enforcement Team used for its operations. Brock and Kallie's wedding had started late and ended late. The reason the wedding started late was because Brock and Kallie didn't subscribe to the superstition, they shouldn't see each other before the ceremony. So... his entire family and the McBride family waited while the post-nuptial activities got a kick start. If his mother ever found out, she'd give birth to a cow. A full-grown, horn-toting, ring-in-the-nose, bull-type, beef critter.

  He wondered how long it would be before the rumor mill made it through the family and back to his mother. He so wanted to be at that family dinner, but with the information and leads they'd been accumulating from Masters’ deal on the Treyson case, he'd been lucky to pull four hours off for his brother's wedding. The web of criminal activity alleged was massive and the FBI and DEA had been called in to help his task force, brandishing federal authority when the big guns were needed. They were moving at a snail’s pace. It was frustrating as fuck, but they had a ghost of a trail, and they were following the money. For that, they’d requested and received permission to work with Guardian. Thank God.

  Now that his brother and wife were on their way to their honeymoon, he had to get back to work. He envied them a long weekend in New York City, but they were celebrating their wedding and Rich’s sentencing. In Maryland the maximum sentence for attempted murder was life and that was the term the judge handed down.

  He opened the back door to the briefing room and slid inside. He nodded to his lieutenant and captain. He'd sent them a text and let them know he'd be running late. They tipped their chins at him, and he leaned against the back wall, taking in the team in front of him. His other lieutenant was at the front of the room talking to someone he didn't recognize. The rest of the team was cutting up or ignoring the fuck out of everyone and tapping on their phones.

  He glanced over at Captain Terrel. The man was a straight shooter and a hands-on type of guy. He went into the field with his team, which was unusual and controversial, but that was Terrel in a nutshell.

  “Nice tux,” Terrell grunted. Brody flipped him off. He had work clothes in the office, he’d change later.

  "Did I miss anything?" They were expecting the DEA to come in and brief them on a new twist to the flow of drugs into Hope City.

  Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. "Nah, the feds made a switch up mid-stream. This guy is waiting for the agent that will be assigned here on a permanent basis. He's fielding questions about a current surveillance they are working with the port authority."

  "So, the DEA is actually agreeing to permanently assigning someone to the task force? What do they want in return?"

  "Nothing, yet," Captain Terrel grunted. “You can be sure they’ll want a favor in the future.”

  The front door to the briefing room opened. The air in his lungs disappeared. Fuck me.

  His lieutenant leaned over. "You know her?"

  Shit, he must have said that out loud. His eyes drilled holes in the back of the woman's head. He knew that walk. Knew how soft her long red hair was. He knew she could kick ass and knew that she was wicked smart. "Yeah, I know her."

  A lifetime of events flashed through his mind. Middle school, high school, prom, college, that damn apartment. He blinked hard and stared at the woman again. She'd grown her hair longer, and the clothes were more elegant, but...

  "Gentlemen," The DEA agent in front of the room addressed the suddenly silent squad room. “May I present Agent Heather Swanson."

  The woman turned and scanned the men seated in front of her. He saw it when she recognized him. For a moment, she
hesitated. Only for a moment. But then again, what did he expect?

  Captain Terrel leaned forward. "How do you know Agent Swanson?"

  Brody swallowed hard. "I asked her to marry me. She said no."

  The End

  Turn the page to continue reading Hope City book 2…Sean

  Sean

  By Maryann Jordan

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Also by Kris Micheals

  Also by Maryann Jordan

  Sean (Hope City) Copyright 2020