BADGE BUNNIES: The Full 5-Book Box Set

by Mazzy King

  “That’s kind of the point,” he says. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you sooner. I was in the hospital until Thursday. Then I had to get settled here at home, and had my family fussing over me. Then I had to go into the department and debrief with the chief—anyway. I wanted to be there for your signing.”

  “I’m glad you came,” I say. “I was pretty shocked, actually.”

  “So, things got a little crazy that night.” He reaches for my hand again. “And I don’t mean the hostage situation.”

  I flush.

  “We both said some…things. Serious things.”

  I swallow but meet his gaze steadily. “Very serious things.”

  He leans toward me. “I’ve never been in love before you. I haven’t had a lot of girlfriends. I’m afraid I’m going to fuck things up from time to time. I’m not—I’m not perfect, like the heroes you write about. Not by a long shot. I don’t want to let you down.”

  I push his plate away and sit on his lap. “The thing about the heroes I write about—they all have flaws, too. They’re perfectly imperfect. What matters is their hearts.” I place my hand over his chest. “You have a perfect heart. That’s why I love you.”

  Our kiss starts out sweet and quickly turns deep, slow, and wet. I pull my lips from his with a gasp. “We can reheat the food, right?”

  “Yep,” he replies, sounding just as breathless. He stands up, keeping his good arm wrapped around my waist, and carries me down a short hall to the master bedroom. He tosses me onto the bed, and giggling, I start stripping.

  “Normally I would insist on that,” he says, carefully taking off the sling and keeping his gaze on me, “but I’m a little shorthanded at the moment.”

  “I didn’t know you were punny, Officer.” I sweep off my top and wriggle out of my jeans, then crawl toward him and kneel on the edge of the bed. Tenderly, I undress him, stopping to lightly kiss the bandage over his shoulder and chest, then push him back until he’s flat on the bed.

  “I don’t think you should put any weight on that arm,” I tell him, leaning over him. “So I think I’ll need to be on top this time.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he exhales. The exhale becomes a deep groan of pleasure as I move the crotch of my thong to the side and sink onto him, bracing my hands on either side of his head. “Jesus Christ, Vi. You’re wet as fuck.”

  “I’ve been missing you,” I say, throwing my head back as I envelop every inch of him. He feels huge inside my petite frame, but I’ve never been filled like this before. I’ve done a lot of imagining of what the “perfect” man feels like, but for the first time in my life, I’m actually experiencing him.

  And it’s better than anything.

  I ride him slow and hard, taking my time, torturing us both. My pleasure keeps spiking like a crazed heart monitor. When I can’t hold out any longer, I lean down until our mouths meet and slam my hips down on his until I explode around him.

  “Shit, yes!” He grabs my hip hard with his good hand, working me on his cock the way he needs until he bursts inside me like a volcano and he growls deep and low. Then he gathers me close and rotates us so we’re lying on our sides.

  “I missed you,” he whispers. “A week feels like a fucking eternity.”

  “That was worth the wait,” I murmur. “That’s going in a book.”

  He chuckles. “Is that what our relationship is going to be from now on, you putting things in books?”

  I kiss him. “I can’t imagine crafting a better love story. A bookish girl falls for a hunky cop who’s an actual, real-life hero. You can’t make this stuff up.”

  “Write one about a lonely cop who felt like he was stumbling around in the dark until this beautiful, bright light found him and showed him the path home.” Rhys strokes my cheek.

  I think about that. That could be a best-seller.

  “I’ll write it,” I tell him, bringing my forehead against his. “But it’ll be just for you and me. Because that’s our story.”

  The story of us, and we’ve only written the first chapter.

  One down, infinity to go.

  Epilogue

  Violet

  One month later

  Ridge City Police Headquarters is bustling on a Friday afternoon as I carry a brown paper bag full of food up to the seventh floor where SWAT is located. I intended to bring lunch for Rhys and his whole crew, but when I get up there, I see him and Detective Rivers—Saint, as he insists I call him—lounging around near cubicles, chatting and laughing.

  Rhys normally works nights, but this week he’s had in-service training, so he’s actually getting to do the regular, eight-hour day shift, and what’s even better is that he has a real weekend off. That’s a new thing to get used to as the girlfriend of a cop—things like “weekends” and “holidays” become a thing of the past, unless fate lands just right and one of his off-days falls on a weekend or holiday.

  We’re planning to do the ultimate staycation—not leave his house until Monday morning. I’ve got Netflix queued up, groceries are stocked, and we have plenty of (canned) wine and beer. Clothing will be optional. I’m going to opt for nope.

  “Hey,” I call with a grin as I approach. “You guys are doing a really great job of keeping the city safe and stuff, cracking ‘that’s what she said’ jokes at your desks.”

  “If it ain’t the ball-buster,” Saint says dryly.

  Since he and Rhys are such good friends, I’ve gotten to know Saint a lot more this past month. He was something of a “saint” in getting my window repaired and my apartment cleaned so fast. He’s a pretty mysterious kind of guy, though. All I know about him is that he’s in Auto Theft, and his younger brother Jaxson is a patrol cop.

  “Sweetheart,” Rhys says by way of greeting, and kisses me on the mouth.

  “Ah, get a room,” Saint complains.

  “No need this time,” I say. “I just came to drop off lunch. I thought the whole crew would be here, but I guess this is all for you guys.” I open the bag to show off the boxes of barbecue takeout I got at the best joint in town.

  “Their loss,” Rhys says, grabbing for a container overflowing with sloppy ribs.

  “You’re an angel,” Saint says, pulling out two containers. “I’ll probably be here all night. Big case.”

  “The car theft ring you were telling me about?” Rhys says with a frown.

  The second-best part about bringing lunch to Rhys at work is that I get to overhear very interesting things on a regular basis, and since I’m “part of the family” now, they often discuss things as though I’m not there. Hello, book fodder…

  Saint nods. “I’m this close to a breakthrough. We’re organizing the op to set up a meet with the ringleader.”

  “Wow,” Rhys says, lifting his brows. “Congrats.”

  “Eh, don’t congratulate me yet.” Saint shrugs. “Anything can happen.”

  “Sounds like you’ll be here late,” I say, and offer him the bag. “Take more. You need to keep up your strength.”

  He shrugs again. “Sure, thank you.” Then he points a finger. “By the way, easy on the book stuff, buttercup.”

  I grin innocently. “Who, me?”

  He chuckles and balances four cartons. “I’ll share this with the team. Thanks again, Vi. Rhys—catch you later.”

  Saint walks off, and I turn back to where Rhys is perched on his desk. His computer screensaver is on—a picture of us from last weekend, his arms—now completely sling-free—wrapped around me.

  “Well, that sounds serious,” I tell him.

  “It is.” He slips his arms around me. “Thanks for the food. Especially for him—he’s been working really long nights. By the way—don’t forget to lock your car. Ever.”

  “I won’t,” I say, “but I highly doubt these car thieves are much interested in a five-year-old Honda SUV. He said before they’re targeting luxury vehicles.”

  “True. But can’t be too careful.”

  “Well, then maybe I should make sure I
have an officer with me at all times.” I smile and wind my arms around his neck.

  He clears his throat. “Funny you should say that, actually.”

  “Why?”

  He sighs and grins. “I’ve never been a patient man. You should know that about me.”

  “I’m well aware of that at this point,” I say, mystified. “Rhys, what’s up?”

  He pushes me back by my hips a few inches and sticks a hand in the pocket of his dress pants. “I was going to do this during our staycation. But now that you’re here, at headquarters, it almost feels…more appropriate.” His smile fades and his eyes grow serious. “Because, you need to know, Vi, that you wouldn’t just be saying yes to me. You’d be saying yes to the department. Yes to living this kind of life with me. It’s hard. It’s hardest on you guys—the families. The loved ones.” He withdraws his hand and shows me a ring box. “The…wives.”

  My heart stops beating.

  Carefully, he springs the lid. A beautiful cushion-cut diamond engagement ring sparkles up at me.

  “It’s soon,” he says softly. “I know it’s soon. But you’re it for me, Vi. I’m crazy for you, and I always will be. It’ll only ever be you. But this ring and I, we’re asking a lot. Some would say too much.”

  I swallow hard and lift my gaze from the ring to his. I’m new to this life, this world of police officers and all they go through. The danger. The sometimes life-threatening situations.

  My gaze drops to his shoulder, just now starting to return to normal. The wounds.

  I know we won’t have a “normal” life. I know we won’t always do things the traditional way. Things won’t be perfect, like the happily-ever-afters I write in my books.

  But I don’t want perfect. I want Rhys Hartley. Because I love him, and he loves me. And if saying yes to him means saying yes to the badge, then I want my own I can wear proudly pinned to my chest. Forever.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “Yes to it all. To everything. I want you, Rhys. I love you.”

  His eyes light up, and he slides the ring onto my finger. “Violet, I love you, and I swear to you I will do everything in my power to give you the happily-ever-after you deserve.”

  As we kiss, I know he means every word of it.

  Another beautiful chapter to add to our never-ending love story.

  SAINT

  BADGE BUNNIES BOOK 3

  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…

  Saint

  The last thing in the world I expected when I went undercover to meet the head of a luxury car theft ring in Ridge City was Lyra—the raven-haired dark angel from my past who immediately grabbed my heart again with her beautiful face and sexy body.

  She’s not a bad person. She's just made some bad decisions. And now, more than ever, she needs my help. I can’t bust her just yet. I need time to explore her mind…and hopefully something more.

  She makes me want to forget my name and get down to all kinds of devilish actions with her.

  She needs protecting…and I’m the only man for the job.

  Lyra

  I never wanted to be part of this criminal underworld, but my abusive ex is threatening me.

  But I never imagined he’d actually set me up to take the fall for him until a detective’s flashlight is in my eyes. A detective who I know from a past that seems so long ago.

  He’s always been the sexiest man I’ve ever seen…and despite our past history, he might want to take me to jail.

  His name is Saint.

  I desperately need Saint to save me from my ex and the dangerous game I've been playing…and I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

  But can he set the law to the side to be my archangel and protect me, or will he devil me to prison for God knows how long?

  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

  Saint Rivers

  “Are we clear on the operation?”

  I glance around the table at my assembled team, clenching my jaw. Tonight cannot go sideways. What we’ve accomplished—what I’ve managed to do—is a one-shot only situation, and the margin for error for tonight is small.

  Heads nod, and I feel only a glimmer of satisfaction, but that’s still a good thing. The best of the best sit at this table at HQ with me now—detectives from auto theft, undercover patrol officers, a few members of SWAT. Gunner Hansen, a top undercover officer, gives me a nod across the table. He’s got my back if no one else does.

  I only wish my older brother Jaxson was on this op with me. He’s a year older, but it’s almost like we’re twins. We’re as close as if we came into this world together, and we even got our first tattoos together—a cross in the middle of our chests, and the word “Trust” on our left ribs.

  But he’s got his own cases, and this one is mine. This one is the one that could make or break my career in Auto Theft.

  I’m finally going to get my hands on Max Hendricks, the suspected lead of a luxury car theft ring in Ridge City.

  Suspected, my ass. He’s guilty, and tonight I’m going to bring his sorry ass in where he belongs. He and his team are responsible for a string of seventy-five thefts over the past two months. Benzes, Beamers, Range Rovers, Ferraris, Lambos. You name it, they’ve stolen it.

  I’ve orchestrated tonight’s meeting with him as delicately as handling a bomb. It’s been a meeting that’s been a month in the works. He’s been evasive and occasionally impossible to get a hold of, giving me the runaround while, I’m sure, he tried to determine whether or not I was who I said I was—a fence for those luxury vehicles. I produced falsified reports of “transactions” I told him I’d completed for similar hot products, selling these cars overseas to buyers willing to pay top dollar. I engaged the tech team and the cybercrimes department to make the transactions appear as legit as possible.

  Finally, finally, last week, he agreed to meet with me, to discuss a plan for getting the cars overseas and into buyers’ hands.

  “Let’s run it down one more time,” I say to my team. “We’re supposed to meet at one of his properties, an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of downtown. I sent Gunner’s team to recon the location earlier this week.”

  Gunner nods and glances around at the team. “Confirmed the location as being Hendricks’s. But it’s only abandoned on paper. And it’s only one of his bases.”

  Another auto theft detective leans forward. “How many bases are we talking?”

  Gunner shrugs. “We suspect it’s close to a dozen. They’re places where the cars are being stored, where they do transactions and meets from, and they’re constantly rotating.”

  “Can’t have the cops getting onto them,” I add drily. “One thing at a time. We get Hendricks, we get everything. He’s the key. That’s why tonight is so fucking important. No mistakes.”

  Heads nod again. I don’t have to say it. Some officers take shit like that to offense. Others know to put their pride to the side and focus on the mission.

  “The meet is scheduled for eleven,” I go on, glancing at my watch. “So we’ve got an hour to get in place, an hour to set up surveillance. Make sure you keep an extra-sharp eye out for tails. If anyone sees you, if anything feels off, get out of there.”

  “You gonna be wired?” Gunner asks.

  I hesitate. “He’s not a stupid guy. He’s going to take any and all precautions to make sure I am who I say I am. So, no.”

  Gunner shakes his head. “I don’t like that.”

  Neither would Jaxson.

  “Shit, me neither,” I say. “But what option is there? I go in wired, he finds it, I’m a dead man.”

  It means I’ll be alone, essentially, but that’s why I have a team.

  “No worries, Saint,” Gunner says finally, mustering up a good impres
sion of a confident grin. “We’ve got your back.”

  Tonight, I’m not driving one of the force’s unmarked cars. I’m driving a current-model black Camaro, rented especially for tonight. It’s a super-souped-up version that would cost about seventy grand on the market. For my persona, it’s just his everyday car.

  My unmarked car is a few blocks away near the bar Triple Six. Gunner and I dropped it there earlier in the day. You never know when shit will go wrong and you need to get the hell out of somewhere.

  I check my phone. I’ve got messages from the team stating everyone is position. I cruise down the street toward the address Hendricks gave me during our last phone call, then rev my engine a few times for good measure to announce my arrival.

  The warehouse sits on the corner, and a large garage bay door starts to rise. I step out of the car and stride toward the two men who stand there to greet me. They both have guns—one has an AK-47, the other an Uzi. They clearly fucking mean business.

  “You Saint?” one of them asks gruffly.

  I used my real first name when I introduced myself to Hendricks, but a fake last name. I nod, affecting a cocky grin. “Sometimes they call me Devil, though.”

  Neither of the men cracks a smile, but they exchange a look.

  I shrug. “Tough crowd. We doing this, or what?”

  One of them nods. “She’s waiting.”

  She? What the fuck? I frown, and it’s not fake. “I thought I was supposed to be meeting with Hendricks.”

  The guy fixes me with a hard stare. “Yeah, well. Something came up. You’ll meet with his right hand instead. You got a problem with that? If you do, you can turn around and fuck right off in your loud-ass Camaro.”