by Erin Rylie
Sophie sipped her chai tea latte and gave herself the best pep talk she could muster.
You’ve got this, just stay professional. Write some sappy article about how he really is a good guy underneath that pretty face, and get that recommendation letter from Karen.
Sighing, Sophie tried to buy her own pep talk, she really did, but she couldn’t deny that she was dreading this. Sticking the tip of her thumb in her mouth, she began to chew on the nail, chipping off the pretty red nail polish her best friend had painstakingly coated her nails with. At the sound of a throat clearing, she looked up from the table and met the clear, blue gaze of the man of the hour himself.
Sophie’s mouth watered, actually freaking watered, as she took him in. Longish dark blonde hair, shorter on the sides than on top, a perfectly symmetrical face with day-old scruff, and a muscular but lean body made him the perfect specimen of a man. As nonchalantly as possible, Sophie tucked her fist under her chin, resting it on the table. Without support, it was entirely possible her chin would drop and she would be officially gaping.
No man should look this good. He wasn’t even dressed up! He was wearing dark-wash jeans that showcased his muscular thighs (yum) and a simple, light blue Henley. Was she staring? She was pretty sure she was staring.
Say something, Soph. Open your mouth and say something! What can I say though? Hi, I’m Sophie and I’d like to climb you like a tree. No, now is not the time to channel my inner Melissa McCarthy. Just say hi. You can do it. Hi. One syllable.
He ran his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, accentuating the bulging biceps hiding beneath the long-sleeved shirt. “Are you Sophie Klein?” he asked, his hesitant grin tipping up the corners of his mouth.
“Umm, yes?” she said, wincing when the words came out like a question. She cleared her throat, determined to at least sound confident. “Yes, I’m Sophie Klein from the Houston Reporter, thanks for agreeing to meet with me!” she exclaimed, pasting on her most enthusiastic smile and standing to shake his hand.
The moment their hands made contact, she swallowed a gasp. Electricity and heat zinged through her system, and she struggled to maintain her firm handshake as a swarm of butterflies took residence in her stomach. When she heard Raphael suck in a sharp breath, she looked up to meet his eyes. He maintained eye contact for a brief moment before his gaze dipped and he took in her appearance. After a leisurely perusal of her crisp white button-down, simple navy pencil skirt, and nude stilettos, his gaze met hers again. The heat in his eyes almost took her breath away.
So this is what insta-lust feels like. Holy shit.
He barked out a laugh just as she realized she’d said the words out loud. Moment over and cheeks heating, Sophie snatched her hand back, smoothed her skirt, and returned to her seat. Raphael took the seat across from her, wearing what could only be described as a self-satisfied smirk.
“I’m Rafe, by the way. You forgot to ask when you were practically throwing yourself at me a moment ago,” he said, smirk growing into a full-fledged smile. Sophie fought the urge to scowl at him, instead forcing a smile to her lips.
“Right, well, should we get started, Mr. Pierce?” She pointedly emphasized his last name and pulled out her phone to begin recording their conversation. “I’ll be recording our interview, if that’s alright with you. We can start with some basic questions about your time as an officer, and then I’d like to learn more about how that picture was taken. Sound good?”
“That’s all great, but my name is Rafe,” he said, glancing around for a server.
“Mr. Pierce,” she began again, waving at Julie, the sweet blonde waitress who took care of her every time she visited her favorite coffee shop in the area.
Before she could finish her sentence, Rafe fixed his cool blue gaze on her and said once more, “Rafe.”
Narrowing her eyes, Sophie refused to give in. She’d already humiliated herself; the last thing she wanted to do was concede defeat in this. “Mr. Pierce,” she replied determinedly.
Before he could respond, Julie blessedly walked up to take his order.
“Hey! What can I get ya?” she asked cheerfully. Julie was always so damn peppy. Sophie would swear the girl had been a cheerleader in high school. She was a young college student, studying business management. With blonde hair, gray eyes, and an athletic figure, she was classically beautiful.
Rafe shot Sophie a mischievous smile before turning to Julie. He stuck out his hand, a broad smile showing off those irresistible dimples, and introduced himself.
“Hi, I’m Rafe,” he said, putting unnecessary importance on the nickname with a meaningful look at Sophie. Poor Julie didn’t stand a chance—the man was turning the full force of his charm on her. “What’s your name, doll?”
Julie blushed prettily and stuttered out her name before again asking what she could get them. Rafe ordered black coffee and Sophie just shook her head to indicate that she didn’t need anything. As Julie walked away to get his drink, Sophie watched Rafe, waiting for him to turn to check out their waitress. Shockingly, he returned his gaze to her, the weight of it making her shift in her seat.
Sophie cleared her throat and looked down at her chai tea, focusing on the light foam at the top of the cup. Taking a moment to get her thoughts in order, she took a big sip of the delicious drink and returned the mug to its saucer before clearing her throat and hitting start on the recording app on her phone.
“Alright, Officer Pierce. Let’s get started.”
Chapter Three
Rafe was being an ass. On his way to the coffee shop, he had run through his approach to this whole situation in his mind. He was convinced that the only way to get through this mess was to adopt Ramirez’s approach to everything. His partner was cocky, obnoxious, and a total flirt. He tended to be a bit of a pig, honestly, calling all of the female witnesses “doll” or “sweetheart.” Rafe was more straightforward, and he certainly wasn’t a flirt.
When he’d walked in and spotted the reporter waiting for him, he’d done an immediate double take. The girl looked like a complete tight ass. She was scowling down at her drink like it had done something to offend her while chewing on one brightly painted nail. Her hair, straight and blonde, was pulled into a severe bun at the nape of her neck, making her features seem more severe.
Rafe hadn’t been in the mood to deal with a grumpy pain-in-the-ass reporter. Though he would have loved nothing more than to walk out and forget this interview all together, he was more scared of the captain than he was of some tiny waif of a woman with a scowl on her face. He’d straightened his shoulders, adopted Ramirez’s trademark smirk, and sauntered over to the table like he owned it.
He hadn’t expected to feel the sizzle of a connection when she’d stood up to shake his hand, and he certainly hadn’t expected the word lust to come out of that sexy bow of a mouth. The moment the word passed from her lips, his dick had actually twitched. Nothing could have stopped him from his slow perusal of her body. The skirt she was in did great things for her curves, and the beige fuck-me heels she was wearing? He was half hard by the time he had sat down. Arguing with her over his name had actually been fun, and he’d started to enjoy himself, until she’d pulled out her damn phone and began grilling him.
They’d already talked about his early career, and she was now delving into what made him want to be a cop. He’d never told anyone why he’d become an officer, always brushing off the question with a shrug. He wasn’t about to tell her about his fucked-up childhood—his drug-addicted mother and absent father. The truth was, he wanted to be a cop because when his mom finally overdosed, the officers on the scene had been like heroes to him.
After ten years of never eating enough, wearing threadbare clothes, and receiving beatings from his mom’s “boyfriends,” those men and women had saved him. They’d taken him out of the run-down, dilapidated house he and his mother had lived in and placed him in the foster care system.
He had never been adopted
, but it had been a stable life for him in a time when all he’d needed was stability. The officers who had found him had even checked in with Rafe throughout the years, making sure the foster care system was treating him well.
But there was no way in hell he was going to share that with the reporter in front of him. He needed to distract her, get her off of that question. So when she repeated the question, he said the douchiest thing that came to mind.
“Mr. Pierce, did you hear me? What made you want to work in law enforcement?”
He let out a short laugh and put on the most charming grin he could muster. “Doll, I became a cop for the same reason most young, horny men straight out of college become one. Ladies love a man in uniform.” Then he threw in a wink for good measure.
Though she managed to turn her scoff into a light cough, she was unable to hide the roll of her eyes.
“Charming,” she muttered. “Okay, tell me what happened last night at the bar. How did the woman on Instagram even get a picture of you in a bar while you were on duty?”
“Well, darlin’…” he said, adding as much condescension to the word as he could. “My partner, Ramirez, and I got called to the bar for a public intoxication complaint. The idiot kid was so hammered that he was pissing on the wall of the bar when we pulled up. When I shined a light in his eyes, the dumbass turned and peed on my boots.”
Before he could continue, Sophie burst into laughter. Her entire face changed when she laughed. Her eyes filled with light as she tossed her head back, the smooth column of her neck now visible, her perky breasts pushed forward in that tight button-down shirt. He shifted in his chair, trying to subtly rearrange his erection. When she finally calmed herself, he found that he was grinning too. She wiped tears from her eyes and smiled at him, like they now shared some private joke.
“So I had to go into the bar to clean the piss off of my shoes, but I was stopped on my way to the bathroom by this hot-ass blonde in a skimpy, white dress. Seriously, you should have seen this babe. Legs for days—” Sophie interrupted before he could wax poetic about the woman’s ass, which, to be honest, he hadn’t even paid an ounce of attention to.
She cleared her throat, those gorgeous green eyes shooting daggers at him across the table. If looks could kill, Rafe thought with a self-satisfied smirk. “Mr. Pierce, I don’t see how this is in any way relevant to the story. Could you move on please?”
“Oh, right. Sorry about that, doll.” He grinned, shooting her another wink. Her eyes narrowed and her lips tightened. He could’ve sworn he saw her fingers twitch as she clearly fought the urge to slap him and storm off. “Anyway, so this chick thought I was the stripper for her bachelorette party. I mean, can you blame the girl?” He gestured at his body and gave her a lascivious grin. She rolled her eyes again, but managed to hold back whatever snarky comment she wanted to make. He honestly didn’t know how she did it. The poor girl looked like she was literally biting her tongue. “I very politely corrected her.” Sophie couldn’t hold in the scoff this time. “And she asked for my picture. Must’ve wanted something for her spank bank.” He shrugged.
“Delightful. So that’s the whole story?” Sophie asked, clearly wanting to wrap this up and get the hell away from him. He found himself wanting the interview to continue, surprisingly. He was having a blast saying any outrageous thing he could think of just to annoy her. He couldn’t help it if she looked sexy as hell when she was pissed off.
“Well, yeah, pretty much. I mean, I considered taking one of the bride’s friends with me to the bathroom...” He winked again. “But I was on duty so I just washed off my boots and went back outside.”
Apparently Sophie had had enough. She stopped the recording app on her phone and stood. “Well, as fun as this has been,” she paused to glare, “I think I have everything I need. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Pierce.”
He made a show of looking disappointed before pointedly checking out her rack. The reporter had nice tits, he couldn’t deny that. He raised his eyes to hers and quirked a brow before saying something he knew would keep her from asking for another interview.
“You want to take this back to my place? I can think of some things we could record.”
Oh, he’d done it now. Sophie’s nostrils flared and her eyes widened in shock before narrowing on him once more. She prowled over to him, and the glare she gave him had his boys shriveling up in his jeans. He’d expected her to slap him, honestly. What he didn’t expect was for the scowl to fall from her face while her lips quirked into a flirtatious smile. She patted him on the cheek, that sugar-sweet smile still gracing her pink lips, and leaned over to whisper something in his ear that had him hard and ready to go in record time.
“Oh, bless your heart,” she whispered. “You couldn’t handle a night with me. You’d be better off sticking to badge bunnies.” She patted his cheek and closed his mouth for him before walking away.
Chapter Four
“So how hot was this cop, really? Because in the picture I’ve seen the dude looks entirely too fuckable,” Sophie’s friend Becky asked that night over wine and cult classics. It was a tradition that had started when she, Becky, and Kelsey were roommates in college. Without fail, the three of them got together once a week to gossip and drink wine while cult classic movies played in the background. In honor of tonight’s movie, Mean Girls, the three of them were, of course, wearing pink.
Kelsey did an actual spit take, her wine coating Sophie’s coffee table as she burst out laughing at Becky’s question. Sophie grabbed a roll of paper towels from the side table next to her and passed them to Kelsey. Unfortunately for her furniture, spit takes were a pretty regular occurrence on cult classic night. Becky tended to say whatever popped into her head. The woman really had no filter. It was one of the things Sophie loved the most about her.
When Kelsey had finished cleaning up the mess, she turned to Sophie with an impatient stare. “Well? Answer the question! Inquiring minds need to know, Soph.”
She sighed and brought up the image of Rafe in her mind. Dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a panty-dropping smile? Fuckable was an understatement. The things she wanted to do to him would make a porn star blush. “Yes, he was that hot in person. That’s the problem though. The guy was a complete and total prick! You should’ve heard the things he said to me. I mean, who the hell talks about other women’s asses in an interview?”
Kelsey’s eyes widened. “You’re lying. There is no way he did that.”
Sophie knew that she wasn’t supposed to share recordings of her interviews, but these were her best friends, and they needed to hear this. She reached forward and grabbed her phone, unlocking it and pulling up the recording app. She scrolled through the interview with her thumb and scrolled forward until she’d reached the last ten minutes. She hit play and turned the speaker toward her friends. She actually shivered as Rafe’s sexy, deep voice came through the speaker. It wasn’t fair, really. How could a man look that good and have a voice that sexy?
When the recording ended, Kelsey looked appalled and Becky was practically drooling. “That voice!” she said excitedly. “Can you imagine phone sex with a guy like that? I’m sliding off my seat just thinking about it.” Becky made a point of fanning her face while actually sliding off of the leather love seat she was perched on.
Sophie laughed and threw a pillow at her friend. “Don’t encourage me, Becky. This is the kind of guy I’m supposed to stay away from, remember?”
“I mean, a little fun wouldn’t hurt you. You haven’t had sex since you kicked Charlie out two years ago. How many vibrators are you going to break before you finally decide to get some actual dick?”
Sophie sighed and looked to Kelsey for support. She was the more reserved of her two friends and could always be counted on to be the voice of reason. Unfortunately, it looked like Sophie was on her own this time. Kelsey was looking down at her phone, a slight blush staining her cheeks. She had a feeling she knew what her friend was looking at.
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br /> Her suspicion was confirmed when Kelsey turned her phone around. There, in full color, was a picture of Rafe. He had a sexy, genuine smile on his face, and his arm was wrapped around a handsome Latino man. He looked a few years younger, but just as handsome in his police uniform.
“Oh come on, Kelsey, not you too.” Sophie groaned, tearing her eyes away from the photo. “Where did you even find that picture?”
Her friend threw her a sheepish smile. “It’s from his police academy graduation; one of the news stations shared it online. Sorry, Soph, but I’m with Becky. I mean after two years, doesn’t your hymen grow back? Are there cobwebs down there?”
Sophie buried her face in the armrest of her chair and groaned. “My hymen hasn’t grown back, you assholes. I need a nice guy to break my dry spell. Trust me, Rafe is far from nice.”
Her friends fell silent for a moment and the three of them turned to watch Tina Fey pull off her shirt in front of her entire classroom. Sophie took a big sip of wine and said the one thing she knew would make her friends forget all about Rafe.
“What if I let you two make a Tinder profile for me instead?”
Becky and Kelsey’s grins were downright maniacal. Sophie handed her phone over to Kelsey while Becky went to the kitchen to grab another bottle of wine. Tonight was going to be a long night.
Sophie woke up the next morning with a massive hangover. She moaned and rolled over, feeling around her nightstand for her phone. When she finally found it, she pulled it under the covers with her and hit the home button so she could see what time it was.