The Vigilant: A Reverse Harem Dark Cop Romance

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The Vigilant: A Reverse Harem Dark Cop Romance Page 4

by Anna Belle

Yeah, Red got me all hot and bothered, but that didn’t mean I had to let him. I was tired of feeling like we were throttling towards a destination I had zero control over.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” he said, stepping in closer.

  In one smooth motion, he took my phone out of my jeans pocket. He tilted it, entered in the code as I stared on.

  “Cops are allowed to hack into people’s phones without asking?” I asked.

  Red smirked. “I’m not doing this as a cop. This is for myself.”

  He handed me back my phone to see that he’d had me text a ‘I’m a terrible bowler but easy on the eyes’ to an unknown number.

  “Hilarious,” I said, although a smile was tugging on my lips. The way Red looked at me… I couldn’t remember ever being looked at like that before. With hunger – yes, lust – definitely, but a sort of knowing reverence. Like that, come hell of high water, I would be his. It freaked me out more than a little bit. Not to mention that he was a cop, and if he ever got wind of what had went down with Taylor….

  “Yours?” I asked him, indicating the unknown number.

  “For next time,” he said.

  “I’m not staying in town long,” I said, as much for myself as for him. I had to get out of this city- sooner rather than later. “Just until my sister gets settled here.”

  And I get her away from that abusive ass of a boyfriend, I added to myself privately.

  “Tomorrow?” he said.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “You won’t regret it,” he said.

  I just smiled. He didn’t get it – that that was exactly what I was afraid of.

  Chapter 14: Kohl

  My teeth ground together.

  I was standing so close to Angel I could smell his fancy-ass cologne. He gave me a look of unconvincing surprise. As if him bringing along that hot Spanish chick was same old same old.

  Idiot. What the Vigilant did was difficult enough without him bringing over a distraction.

  Even if it was an extremely tempting one.

  My cock twitched in annoyance.

  “You getting bored of what we’re doing here?” I growled to Angel.

  “No,” he said.

  “Just wanted to show off your little girlfriend, is that it?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he said.

  “Why is she here then?”

  Angel opened his mouth, but I stopped him.

  “I don’t care. Point is, you should know better. And unless you want some wild threesome with your new girl, I suggest you keep your hang-outs with her to just you two.”

  Angel scowled. “Red said something, didn’t he?”

  I kept my face neutral. “Just some crass joke.”

  Fuck it if I wasn’t actually tempted to try some freaky shit like that. Ever since Red had joked about it the other night, the idea kept recurring, like an extra unwanted heartbeat.

  Especially if that was the only way I’d get a shot with Myla. There was something about her –sensual and fun yet innocent – that I could just tell would be dynamite in bed.

  But still, we had a job to do.

  I shrugged, before striding off. “Keep the girls you bang out of Vigilant business.”

  The rest of the game went about the same. Angel sulked a bit and stuck a bit closer to Myla.

  Her jeans still stretched tight across that ass. Although that wasn’t the most annoying part. The most annoying part was, that despite my animal hunger for her, there was something else too.

  Something on a different plane that noticed how pretty she was when she laughed, how funny she was. Something that thought it might be nice if I went out for coffee with her, or some equally dumb shit.

  Fuck if Angel hadn’t ruined the night.

  Before we left, I pulled him over and filled him in on our next mission while Red chatted up Myla.

  Once we left, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Prematurely, as it turned out. Since late that night, in the coolness of my king-size cotton sheets, what kept revolving in my non-sleeping mind but the image of Myla’s thick ass as she leaned over in those jeans… then, without those jeans. Then, both thick tanned buttocks in my hands.

  Fuck.

  Chapter 15: Red

  Next morning, she still hadn’t responded to my text. Not that I was worried. It was only a matter of time.

  I’d seen that the first second we’d locked eyes that first night. Sure, she might hem and haw and try getting out of it. But at the end of the day, you couldn’t run away indefinitely. What you really wanted would eventually catch up with you.

  At work, Angel, Kohl and I marched dutifully back to Guinevere’s apartment off-white crumble-bricked apartment, for a chat with her landlord.

  Maurice was not happy. Maurice had had enough of keeping her psycho fat Chihuahuas in the supervisor’s room.

  “They pee everywhere!” he shrieked, spittle flying as he thrust a finger at us like we were to blame.

  Angel offered to take them in, and Maurice dismissed us with no useful information.

  With luck, we’d get a new case now.

  I was already having a good day – Myla had responded, our date was tonight.

  Let the fun begin.

  Chapter 16: Red

  A few hours later, I picked her up at her place. Her poofy skirt billowed as she climbed in the car, giving me a tempting view of her tan upper thigh.

  Her berry-colored lips were curled in a smile, would look good wrapped around... Cool it, Red.

  If I went too fast, I’d screw this up. And that was the last thing I wanted.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d liked a girl this much.

  Huh – liked. Not just wanted to bang, I realized. Something more. Maybe.

  “Nice skirt,” I told her, my fingers following the line of a ruffle.

  “Nice car,” she said, eyeing the roof that was down.

  “You should see her go,” I said, and hit the gas.

  The wind swept in, throwing Myla’s wild hair wilder. Ahead, the sun was setting, igniting the sky into a red celebration.

  For what would happen tonight, if I got lucky.

  On the way there, conversation wandered back and forth. I didn’t like talking about myself. But neither, so it seemed, did Myla.

  “No,” was her answer to me asking her if she was an only child.

  “Evil stepsisters?” I guessed.

  She laughed, though it was quick. “No. Just a sister. We used to be really close, but then I…”

  She shook her head. “You?”

  “Only child right here.” I patted my chest. “Had my shit dad and nice mom all to myself.”

  Myla was quiet. Frankly, I don’t know why I’d even mentioned my dad. Most times, I just pretended my mom had raised me – since she had from the age of twelve up.

  “Both my parents were shit,” she said finally. “Or maybe I’m being too hard on them – they were both in foster care, had hard lives. Anyway, that had a drinking problem, and…”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

  Her gaze became slightly accusatory, as if I’d somehow tricked herself into doing it. At some point, my hand had found hers, was squeezing it. “My dad drank too.”

  For fuck’s sake, really Red? Really?

  Tonight was about hopefully getting lucky with a hot girl I just might happen to actually like. Not soul-gazing and revealing my deepest darkest secrets. No way could I tell her about the Vigilant.

  We’d already made it to the outdoor movie marina anyway.

  “So what is this about, anyway?” Myla asked.

  “Me wanting to see you?” I smiled at her. “Thought it was self-explanatory.”

  My cock itched to fill her in further.

  Cool it.

  “You know what I mean…” Her eyes searched mine. “What about Angel? You do know that he and I…we…”

  “No.” I smirked. “But I had an idea.”


  “He didn’t tell you?” The realization seemed to please her. “I figured guys did that kind of thing. Talked about their conquests.”

  “Usually he does.” I grimaced. “Overshares. He must moderately like you.”

  She laughed. “I’m honored.”

  “Seriously though,” she persisted. “Aren’t you guys friends?”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “And you’re trying to get with me.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “You dating Angel?”

  “No.”

  “Things are serious?”

  “No, I even talked to him and he said me going out with you was fine. Just-”

  “Then?”

  “I don’t know, ok! I just wanted to say something,” she said. Her eyebrows were all screwed up, her eyes flashing. It was kind of cute. “There’s a lot of messed-up things in my life right now and I didn’t want this to be another messed-up thing.”

  Something weird – almost like pity – twisted in my gut at the sight of her now nervously widened eyes.

  “Rest assured,” I said, reaching over so that the pad of my thumb ran over her lower lip. “This doesn’t have to be messed-up. At all. It can be very simple, actually.”

  Her wide eyes went from nervous to mesmerized. All of me burned to say fuck it, to just take that oh-so-willing face in my hands and do what I wanted to it.

  But there was real pain in those eyes. I wasn’t a sadist. If Myla wanted a movie and a fun night, I’d give her a movie and a fun night.

  And, after, well… it was a free country.

  Chapter 17: Myla

  If the movie would just damn well start…

  Red had gotten us some popcorn, and buttery bites punctuated our conversation, but still. Every time, talk seemed to circle back to the same thing… how we were going to end up together.

  Red never outright said it, oh no, but he didn’t have to.

  It was in his flashed brows at a word, his all-knowing smirk.

  More annoyingly, coming from him it wasn’t even perverted or pushy. It was just… focused. Tempting. Like he knew better than I did what was best.

  Yes, Red wanted what he wanted. And right now, that was me.

  Goosebumps prickled up my arms at his stare. It was the stare of someone enjoying a work of art, a creation of beauty. I’d never been looked at with such enrapt fire.

  “Stop it,” I said suddenly.

  “What?”

  “Just the way you look at me….” I trailed off. “It’s like you don’t care how uncomfortable it makes me. You just do it because you want to.”

  He considered this for a minute. “And?”

  Exasperated laughter burst out of me. Coming from anyone else, the question would’ve been downright insulting. But Red looked genuinely perplexed.

  “Don’t you care a little about what I want?” I asked.

  He swallowed, his hazel eyes appraising me. “Ever consider we both might want the same thing?”

  Here we go again.

  His hand clasped mine and defiant heat rushed up my fingertips. Part of me wanted to get away. The other part wanted him to get it over with. To kiss me and do it if he was going to.

  I exhaled long and low.

  “It’s not all about me,” Red argued. He gave the red and white striped popcorn bag a derisive shake. “Think nonexistent butter is my flavor of choice?”

  “I can always take it off your hands.” I wrapped my arms around it, grateful for some kind of covering, something to put between me and Red and the want that was boiling fit to burst in me.

  He reached a hand to scoop it back, his hand brushing against my breast. Accidentally on purpose? Did I care?

  He paused. I paused.

  Our gazes locked.

  This. Was. It.

  The last of my self-control snapped in those hazel shards and what they demanded.

  He kissed me. I kissed him back.

  Hard and fast and rough, all our pent-up want compressed into a single slammed smear of lips.

  Yes.

  Chapter 18: Red

  Our bodies pressed together.

  Her lips were soft and her face was soft and her breasts, even over her shirt, I could tell were full and soft, soft. Only her arms were riddled with goosebumps – the wind had picked up.

  As our lips moved together in tandem, my hand cupped the back of her head, brought it to me more.

  I only realized I was unbuttoning my shirt when Myla whispered, “What are you doing?”

  Only what I’ve been tensed with since I saw you in that poofy skirt.

  I paused, refocused on the movie. Or tried to, anyway. I hadn’t even notice Basic Instinct start.

  Now, I pretended that my mind wasn’t buzzing with the only thing that mattered – her, me, when, where – how.

  My arm went around her and she allowed herself to sink into my bicep.

  There we go.

  I snuck a look at her. Sure, movie Sharon Stone was something, but Myla was…

  Curvy, God, the kind of curves meant for touching.

  My shirt finally off, I draped it over us. “Blanket.”

  “Thanks, but you don’t have-” she began.

  I put a finger to her lips. “I want to.”

  I want you.

  Fuck did I ever.

  A look around found that I’d chosen my parking spot well – we were at the back of all the cars, out of sight of the others, for the most part. Combine that with my very tinted windows and we could do whatever we wanted – whatever – and no one would be the wiser.

  My lips swooped to hers. She tasted like want and ease and cherries. She moved like arousal and need. Her fingers ran through my hair and grabbed. My arms slid around her and eased her onto my lap.

  The feel of her ass on my hard-on made it swell even more. And then her lithe fingertips, running along my bicep…

  And her attention, flickering stubbornly to the screen where Sharon Stone was as hot and lethal as ever. What was happening in the movie registered on her lips: making them pucker in disgust, lift in joy, gape in dismay…

  Imagine what it would be like, having those lips wrapped around my…

  Fuck.

  I wrapped my arms around her, although they wouldn’t stay wrapped. My hands had other ideas… Like feeling just how impossibly full her breasts were. Yes.

  And underneath the cup, the firm full mounds.

  My cock twitched.

  Before I could think better of it, my hands pulled down her dress straps – one, then the other.

  Myla gasped. “Red.”

  I froze. Shit – I didn’t usually get carried away like this.

  And the sight of those full beauties…

  “You want me to stop?” I breathed into her ear. My tongue traced the interior lines of it. “Tell me.”

  Her ass dug harder into my hard-on. My hands slipped to her bare breasts – yes, they felt even fucking better than they looked. “Go on. Tell me.”

  She twisted around, her mouth a snarl, “Fuck you.”

  As she grabbed for my cock, I undid my jeans. “If you’re lucky.”

  The rest was a blur. My lips went for her tits, buried into her cleavage. I breathed her scent in.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck – I wanted her now. I wanted her raw. I wanted her mine.

  I lapped and bit, and she groaned and groped at my cock, still covered by the jeans. That was a problem.

  She finally dug it free as my kisses made her groan into the car seat beside me.

  “Wait,” I growled.

  I had something else I wanted to taste first. I shoved her back into the back seat where there was more room, then pulled up her skirt. Her thighs were shaking.

  My lips went up high to where leg met pussy. Her wet had made a patch in her panties and I sealed my mouth down on it. Her breath came out hard.

  I stroked her head. “That’s it.”

  She trembled into me and I inserted a finger into her red lac
e panties, deep inside her.

  I smirked at her, only removing my gaze off my prize for an instant. “I want to hear you scream.”

  An approving growl came out of me. “Would you look at that.” I lifted my glistening finger to Myla. “Wet as fuck.”

  I couldn’t wait any longer – I pulled aside the panties and dove my face in.

  Fucking yes.

  She tasted delicious, and it took zero effort for me to twine my fingers in her while I lapped at her clit. I wanted her cumming good and hard.

  Her legs spread further and her pelvis arced up as I jammed her with my fingers and lapped at her over and over again. Round and round and around her opening, my stubble causing her to cry out throatily. Hell yeah was she close.

  I upped my pace to a hundred, fingering her and lapping at her with everything I had.

  “So.. fucking… hot,” I ground out.

  “I want you… so fucking bad,” she groaned back, before her words turned into gasped-out syllables.

  And then she was shrieking, her whole body exploding into shaking. Once, then again.

  Afterwards, I held her in my arms while her breathing slowed. Her eyes fluttered open, locked on mine.

  Our gazes went to my cock at the same time.

  “Yeah?” I growled. “You want it?”

  “I want it,” she said simply.

  Eyes half-lidded, legs already parted, every part of her screamed it.

  I clamored over her. “That’s fucking like it.”

  I covered her with my body and then, in one swift stab, I entered her.

  We groaned together. It felt good. Way too good.

  “Jesus Myla,” was all I could say.

  No way was I doing to admit that with a pussy that wet and tight and perfect, I could cum right now if I wanted to.

  Fuck that. I was going to give Myla a night to remember, a fucking she wouldn’t soon forget.

  As I rammed into her several more times, fast and shallow, she cried out. My next thrusts she met with her upswinging pussy. Our bodies clamored together – breasts, hands, lips, cock and pussy all joining and smearing in one onward flow.

  We were clenched together, fused. I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. Everything was instinct, need, more. She groaned for “more” and I gave her more, and we both shook with the pent-up more and the more to come.

 

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