by Mazzy King
“I want you,” I beg against his mouth. “Please.”
“I told you, you have me,” he says huskily. “Now. Forever.”
“Take me to bed.”
He stands up, still holding me against him, and carries me to his bedroom. He has a huge king bed with fluffy black and white bedding. He tosses me down and pulls off his shirt. I follow suit.
“I want to do the rest,” he says, leaning over me.
He unwraps me like a gift, taking his time, running his hands all over my skin and over every curve as he removes every article of clothing. He pulls my jeans down my legs until I’m just in my bra and panties. He licks his lips, his gaze running all over me, as he slowly unbuckles his belt.
“You are something else, Miss Jackson,” he murmurs in a voice that makes me want to go up in flames. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
He eases his jeans off his hips, and then tugs off his black boxer briefs. His long, thick cock springs free, and before he can touch me, I roll onto my hands and knees and crawl toward him.
“Serena,” he whispers.
In reply I let out a low mmm and kiss the tip of him before I slide my mouth over him. He fills me and saliva floods over my tongue as I work my mouth up and down his length. His hand grips my hair as he helps guide me back and forth. His essence is delicious, sweet and heady.
He gently eases me away. “You have to stop,” he says with a little grin. “Otherwise this is going to be over way too soon. And it’s my turn.”
He flips me onto my back and kisses me deeply. His nimble fingers rid me of my bra. He cups my breasts, stroking and teasing with his fingers, before sucking each of my nipples until I writhe. I know I’m soaked, and the second he touches me between my thighs, I’m going to explode.
He trails kisses down my belly and over my soft mound, over the soft fabric of my panties. Then with aching slowness, he eases them off my hips.
“Spread ’em,”he murmurs, winking at me, and I can’t help but giggle and slide my thighs apart.
“Yes, Detective,” I say throatily. I could get used to this.
He leans close and sniffs me deeply. “Jesus Christ. My fucking mouth is watering.”
He gives me a soft lick, from the bottom of my slit to my pulsing clit.
“Oh my God,” I gasp. I prop myself up on my elbows.
He goes to town on my pussy.
My eyes roll back and my head falls back and the world around me shatters as I wail out my pleasure.
Somehow his mouth and his tongue and his fingers are everywhere, on me, in me, over me. His lips latch onto my clit and he swirls his tongue against it, and I can’t hold out any longer, coming on his tongue as he grips my hips.
When he lifts his head, I shove him onto his back and straddle him. Soaking, I slide down slowly onto him, taking him little by little, gripping his chest. His hands clutch my ass, and he tightens his jaw in the sexiest way. Finally I settle against his hips, flush against him. He’s so deep I can feel him in my stomach. I lean over to dangle my breasts in his face as I start riding him slowly.
“Serena,” he grunts, tilting his head against the pillow. “Jesus, you’re so tight.”
“I need you,” I murmur against his lips, swiveling my hips slow enough to make the torture so, so delicious. “Dom…”
He slides a hand into my hair. “Yes?”
“I love you.”
He tugs my lips down to meet his.
I sit up on him and ride him in earnest, rocking my hips back and forth on him fast and hard. The tip of his cock bumps up against my G-spot over and over.
“I’m coming,” I cry softly.
“Come for me,” he grunts, running his hands over my thighs and up to my hips and around to my ass.
I shudder atop him, clenching around him rapidly, totally lost. He growls low in his chest as he comes underneath me, pressing me tight to his hips.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. We just breathe each other in.
He pulls me down onto his chest and traces my spine. I run my fingers along his abs to his side, stopping when I feel scarred, shredded skin.
“What’s this?” I murmur. It’s a partly healed gash.
“I got shot,” he replies.
I lift my head. “…that night?”
“Yes.”
I lower my forehead to his shoulder, overcome with the urge to cry. After he made me leave, he got shot. He got hurt, and he was fighting for life. While I was fleeing to my sister’s house in his car.
“Don’t cry,” he whispers, brushing the top of my head with his lips. “I’m fine. I got really lucky.”
“You were alone,” I say, trying to get my voice to stop trembling and failing.
“You were safe. And that means more to me than anything else.” He strokes my back a little while longer. “What’d your sister say?”
“She had a lot of questions, none of which I could answer. But she’s really chill, so she didn’t give me a hard time. But I know she was really worried about me. She still is.”
“Well, if you want, I’d be happy to meet her and explain everything in person.”
“You would?”
“Absolutely.”
After another moment, I say, “I’ve been keeping your car in the parking garage in my building. I don’t have one, but I get a spot, so that’s where it is.”
He chuckles. “I’ve been missing my car, but I couldn’t even come get that from you. Thank you for keeping it safe.”
“It’s all yours.”
“I’ll get around to it later,” he says gently, arms snug around me. “I’ve got more important business to tend to for a while.”
I smile against his chest. “After all, we do have forever, I think.”
He tilts my head up and kisses me, soft and sweet. “Longer than that.”
Epilogue
Dominic
Three months later
I swig a beer in Rhys’s kitchen, feeling more content than I have in…Jesus. Years? The past doesn’t matter to me anymore. All I care about is being with my loved ones.
Facing down death definitely offers a new perspective on life. It gave me a new appreciation for the people in my life. It also made me realize I don’t want to waste time playing games. I want what I want, when I want it.
That’s why a month after Serena and I reunited, I asked her to marry me.
She said yes, in case you were wondering. Our wedding is next spring.
Right now, she’s in the living room chatting with a couple of Rhys’s neighbors he’d invited over to celebrate Labor Day. It was only coincidence he and I had the same days off. The police department never skips a day.
“All right, buddy?” Rhys asks, glancing up from the counter where he’s seasoning burgers.
“Better,” I say. “That was a contented sigh.”
Rhys smiles. “Good.”
He’s truly the brother I never had, though there’s no mistaking we’re not related. Where I’m dark-haired and olive-skinned, Rhys has sandy hair and a golden complexion. He’s also far less inked than I am, with a tribal design on his upper arm and over his shoulder. He also used to do some MMA back in the day, which comes in handy on the SWAT team.
“Hey,” he adds. “I know I’ve already said it a bunch of times, but I’m really happy for you, brother. I can tell you made the best decision for yourself. And Serena is awesome. I don’t know what she sees in you, but you better do everything you can to hang onto her.”
I laugh. “That will be no trouble. She’s a goddess. Somebody up there likes me, and I ain’t questioning it.”
“Well, if you get a line up there, ask whoever’s looking out for you to do the same for me.”
I tilt my head. Rhys has never been a player, but I’ve never known him to be lonely, either. He’s dated casually in the past, but doesn’t really seem to do serious relationships. He’s kind of a lone wolf.
“Sound lonesome over there, bro. What’s up with
that?”
He lifts a shoulder as he washes his hands at the sink. “I don’t know. I just… Seeing how happy you guys are, it makes me think maybe there’s more to a real relationship than I thought. I just don’t want to go out of my way to force something, you know? With you guys, it seems so natural. That’s what I want.”
“Hey.” I give him a light punch on the shoulder. “You’ll find it. You’re great guy—I guess.”
He chuckles. “Don’t make me throw one of these raw patties in your face.”
Serena breezes into the kitchen just then to refill her wineglass and gives us a weird look, smiling. “Why do you two look like you’re up to no good? As usual?”
“Us?” Rhys places a hand over his heart. “We’re two wholesome boys having an equally wholesome conversation.”
“Rhys is lonely and wants a girlfriend,” I clarify.
“Snitch.”
I grin and wrap my arms around Serena’s waist, drawing her close. “Don’t fight it, bro.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes, but grins as he grabs the tray of burgers to throw on the grill. He pats Serena on the shoulder as he passes behind her. “Take care of my buddy.”
“You know I will.” Serena smiles over her shoulder. When the backdoor closes, she glances up at me. “What was that all about?”
I brush a lock of her dark hair over her shoulder, then wrap it around my finger. “I wasn’t kidding around—I think he’s really lonely lately.”
“Oh. Have I been taking up too much of your time? Maybe you need to hang with him more.”
“It’s fine.” I kiss her forehead, then chuckle. “It’s not my company he wants, anyway. He wants what we have. I can’t blame him. I hope he finds it.”
“Me too. I wish everyone could have this level of happy.” She wraps her arms around my shoulders.
I sigh again. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“Yes. But tell me again.”
I tease her lips with mine. “Can I tell you forever?”
“You’re going to have to,” she replies. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
As we kiss, I make a mental note to tell her the same thing.
The badge might come and go, but she’s mine, I’m hers, and forever is ours.
RHYS
Badge Bunnies BOOK 2
A Steamy Alpha Bad Boy Cop Romance
The good Bad Boys of Ridge City…and the women who love them.
Put your hands where he can feel them…
Rhys
I was just trying to do my job—as a SWAT officer, I’m called to the worst of the worse situations. This hostage crisis is no different. When I knocked on a random apartment door across the street, it was only to provide me a better vantage point to wait the situation out. I never expected the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen to answer the door. And it looks like it’s going to be a long wait…I know of one way I’d love to pass the time.
Violet
For a romance author, my love life has been in the dumps lately. But it was like something out of one of my favorite dirty, sexy romances when the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my entire life—who happens to be a SWAT officer—shows up at my door and tells me he needs to use my place. Being in close quarters with him for possibly hours on end is fodder for my novels…but I want to see how far I can take my research.
This is an insta-love, happily-ever-after, STEAMY romance. No cliffhangers, no cheating. This is a standalone story part of the BADGE BUNNIES series.
Chapter 1
Rhys Hartley
It’s supposed to be my day off, but criminals never seem to give a shit about that.
I had a whole day planned for myself—couple hours at the gym followed by a shower. Lunch with my older sister—our weekly ritual—and then a few relaxing hours at the shooting range. But I know better than to make anything more than fluid plans, because shit can hit the fan at any given moment—like right now. At least I got to eat lunch with my sis.
I pull up to a house on a quiet street—or what was once a quiet street—just around the corner from a coffeeshop I’ve visited at least three dozen times. The call came in about ten minutes ago, so I’ve made good time, considering my place is on the other side of town.
Ridge City police cars line the street. The red-and-blue lights on top of them make it seem like some kind of weird, outdoor nightclub. There are officers standing in clusters a safe distance from the house that’s the center of the chaos.
I park down the street and hop out of my car. I’m in my black cargo pants and boots, but my SWAT shirt isn’t quite buttoned yet. I hastily finish the job and then slide on my heavy bulletproof tactical vest that carries all my toys—cuffs, radio, extra magazines, an extra Glock. I notice an officer walking toward me as I strap on my helmet, slide on my protective eyewear, and double-check my thigh holster is strapped on securely. My other Glock, the bigger one, sits in the holster snugly.
“Ready for the shitshow, brother?” Detective Saint Rivers asks me with a shit-eating grin. That’s really his name—Saint. His brother Jaxson, who I used to partner with when I was in patrol, is definitely the more “saintly” of the two.
“All I heard is it’s a hostage situation. What’s the sitrep?” I ask. “And what are you doing out here? Don’t you have stolen cars to find and shit?”
Saint lifts a shoulder, dragging a hand through his light brown hair. “I was in the area when dispatch put the call out. Figured I’d see if I could make myself useful, but now that SWAT’s here to save the day, I can probably head out.”
I roll my eyes at the friendly jab, even though I am proud of fulfilling a lifelong dream of becoming a SWAT officer. “You know anything?”
“Guy going through a midlife crisis is holding his wife and teenage son hostage in the house. Threatening to blow everyone up via their gas line.” Saint shrugs. “Seems pretty fucked up. Most of the team is here—those of you who had the day off are still on the way.”
We work a rotating schedule depending on our shifts. I work four ten-hour shifts and then get two days off. Today was supposed to have been the first of my two days—one of the rare occasions my two days off fall on Saturday and Sunday. A real, true, good old-fashioned weekend. So much for that, but…I took an oath to protect and serve. That oath did not include stipulations about if that included my days off or not.
“All right.” I sigh. “Thanks, man.”
Saint nods, claps me on the shoulder. He heads off down the street, where I assume his unmarked car is parked. “Stay safe, brother.”
“Always.” I turn back toward the house, grab my automatic rifle, and head toward the scene. I meet up with my sergeant, who’s talking to another sergeant.
“Hartley,” he says, catching sight of me. “Rivers catch you up on the situation?”
I nod. “What are we thinking?”
“We’re calling in the negotiator. Man in the house says he won’t talk to anyone but a negotiator.”
“What does he want?”
“No clue.” Sarge shrugs. “But this could take a while. I don’t think his family are in immediate danger, but he won’t let us talk to them or see them.” He thumbs toward a squat apartment building across the street from the house. “Why don’t you take that rifle and go across the street, see if you can get a better vantage point? I need eyes on the house. We may need to take a shot if he makes any unfriendly moves toward his family.”
I nod. “On it.”
It’s not unusual for us to need to commandeer space in times of crisis. I eye the best window to do what’s being asked of me. It’s four floors up—the top floor of the small building, and right in the middle.
Besides, considering this is all happening right across the street from the apartment, I’m sure any tenant who’s home is watching. It won’t be a hard sell for the person whose door I knock on if they are home, and if they aren’t… Well, they’re going to come home to a surprise in the living room.
Finally, I hear a little crackle of static.
“Hello?” a female voice asks hesitantly.
“I’m Sergeant Hartley from the Ridge City Police Department,” I say, my tone clipped. “There’s a hostage situation across the street. I’m sure you’ve seen. I need access to the building—specifically to a top-floor apartment that faces the house.”
There’s a long silence.
“Miss?” I say, unable to keep the impatience out of my voice.
“You want to come inside my apartment?” she says.
I’m not sure if she’s seeking clarification or issuing an invite.
Before I can ask, she continues, “My living room window literally faces the exact front of the house. If that’s what you need.”
“That’s exactly what I need, miss. Please—the situation is potentially dire.”
My response is a loud buzzing noise, and then an electronic pop that indicates the door’s open. I pull it open and take the stairs all the way to the fourth floor. I locate 405, the apartment I buzzed, and rap on the door. Two minutes couldn’t have passed.
“Um…who’s there?” The same familiar female voice is on the other side of the door.
I’m impatient, and the question annoys me initially, but that quickly subsides. She’s just being safe and cautious, and I should encourage and commend that.
“Sergeant Hartley, ma’am.”
The sound of clicking and sliding comes from the other side of the door a moment before it’s pulled open.