“You’ll always be Peyton’s kid sister, Piper!”
She tries to discretely flip me the finger before walking back inside the restaurant.
Stifling a yawn, I try hard to ignore my growling stomach, the smell of the warm food filling the cruiser, and the fact that I really want to know what was in the other bag.
It takes me another fifteen minutes until I pull into the driveway at my place. Stepping in the door, I toss my keys on the table in the entryway, lock up behind me.
I drop my food and the gift bag on the coffee table before I wander into my bedroom. Pulling my service weapon from the holster I slip it into the safe inside the drawer on my nightstand, hang my utility belt in the closet and strip out of my uniform. I contemplate for less than a minute about showering now or later. My stomach grumbling makes the decision for me. I slip on a pair of basketball shorts then head back into the living room to crash on the couch and stuff my face.
Before opening the food container, I grab the remote flipping on the TV. As I stuff a fry in my face, I dump the bag from KJ’s friends out on the table in front of me.
The first thing I pick up is a bookmark. K.J. Pierce – New York Times Bestselling Author.
Turning it over in my hand, I shake my head. Like this weekend isn’t going to be awkward enough as it is.
I’ll be back at the same signing where I bumped into KJ for the second time, and we ended up hooking up. This time, I’ll be there as a model, not event security. I’ve got dinner with a reader tomorrow night, a sweet lady who won a contest to ‘date’ the hot cop. One author who put me on a cover invited me to attend a signing with her on Saturday. And Cooper set up a custom shoot for me too with Zoey Daniels the day after the signing.
I didn’t place her name then, but I vaguely recall her face now because she was with KJ.
Fucking hell.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and groan. If I put all the clues together – it’s for this ménage cover Smitty was rattling about earlier.
Hard no.
I like Smitty, he’s a decent friend and partner. Dude has always had my back.
Don’t have anything against ménages, polyamory, or same-sex relationships, either. It’s just not for me. For one thing, I do not share. Never have, never will.
I gotta wonder if Cooper knew about this and didn’t tell me or if he’s going to be just as blindsided by it as I am. He’s been an amazing mentor and friend in this process. I’d like to think the guy would be upfront with me about the details. I can’t continue to think on it though because the bookmark in my hand taunts me, distracting me from my thoughts again.
K.J. Pierce.
The same girl who got under my skin last March.
Fuck.
I still get hard every time I think about her.
Having her for the weekend wasn’t enough – but she vanished the next day, even after I’d asked her to wait. I hoped like hell, for months, that our paths would cross again. But they never did. Looking at her license today explained why. She was from Mobile, Alabama. A four-hour drive, on a good day.
A bookmark, a book, one of those goddamn squishy dicks that fell out of her box of dicks the first time we met, and a mini vibrator, are now laying proudly before me, thanks to KJ’s girlfriends.
I’m gonna guess that she writes some kind of romance. Maybe erotica based on her choice of favors. Either way, it’s not something I’d considered reading, not in a million years.
Except…the couple on the cover looks oddly familiar, and the title has my attention.
Did she really write a book called ‘Hot Cop – Or not’?
I flip the book over and read the synopsis.
‘Away on a girl’s weekend, Leah finds herself in a compromising position with Boomer – a respected police officer on the Leon County police force.’
What the fuck? I nearly choke on the bite of my burger. Swallowing hard, I keep reading.
‘Boomer Jones has only one thing on his mind. Fucking the feisty blonde that he rescued on the side of the road when her car had a flat. When fate has their paths crossing again later the same day, Boomer takes full advantage – making promises about nights of endless pleasure in his bed. But when she wakes the next morning and Boomer’s gone, Leah’s left feeling used and brokenhearted. Swearing off men and relationships for good.
Who says cops are hot? Some of them…are not.
Shit. I don’t know what the hell this nonsense is, but something tells me the little minx has a few tricks up her sleeve.
Flipping the book back over, I open the front cover and flip through the first few pages. When I come to the dedication – I feel like I’ve been sucker punched right in the chest.
’To Tallahassee’s finest officer, who has held the world’s smallest dicks in his hands. You’ve provided me hours of inspiration with your haunting brown eyes and perfectly spiked hair. Thank you.’
If the synopsis wasn’t enough to convince me that this story is in some way related to me–the dedication seals the deal. This woman wrote a book about me.
“All right, Miss KJ, let’s see just how kinky you are.” I take another bite of my dinner and turn the page to start reading the first chapter.
‘Flashing lights behind me, startle me from my internal tantrum. When I turn around, I see that a cop has pulled over behind me. Suddenly, I’m nervous. I look around quickly, trying not to panic. Busy highway, broad daylight...I should be ok. And I should really stop watching scary movies about crazy people stealing police cruisers and murdering stranded motorists.
Deep breath. I’m gonna be fine, I try telling myself.
I watch cautiously as the driver’s side door opens and the officer unfolds his body from the car. My mouth goes dry, and my insides begin to flutter for a totally different reason. I’m no longer nervous that he’s a serial killer, about to murder me. Nope. Instead, I’m thinking I need to stop watching so much porn because now I’m wondering if he’s going to bend me over the trunk of my car and fuck me senseless. On the side of the road. In broad daylight. Because that shit happens in real life, allllll the time.
You can judge me all you want but, I can’t help it. One, I’m a sucker for a man in uniform.
Aren’t we all?
But, two, this guy...he is sex on a stick. He’s got to be at least 6’4”, long, lean, holy fuck, his navy blue uniform shirt is begging for mercy from those killer biceps. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a few days’ worth of stubble on his chiseled face. And he’s totally got the swagger down too.
This cop is HOT.
I’m talking – makes your mouth go dry, feeling the Sahara Desert up in here, HOT.’
Okay, so she thought I was hot then. I can live with that.
I turn the page and keep reading.
‘I’m so distracted by this guy that I barely register when his partner emerges from the passenger side of the cruiser until he’s firmly in my peripheral vision. Then my gaze darts between the two of them.
Oh, fuck me, he’s hot too. Christ. Two hot cops. They must really know how to grow them down here.
My mind is in total overdrive imagining their hands on my body...no. Wait. Stop this. I need to get laid.’
Now, wait just a minute – she thought Smitty was hot too? No. I don’t share what’s mine. And I’m not cool with her crushing on my partner. Fuck.
‘I open the trunk and start moving things around, after admitting I needed help changing the flat. I don’t know why I wasted time putting everything back inside, to begin with. Fuck - I’d have to find a place to put the shredded tire too, without ruining all my stuff for the book signing. I let out a sigh and hoist the box with all my swag in it, out of the back.
And just because today can’t possibly be any worse - I see it all happening in slow motion, the box slips from my grasp and tumbles to the ground before I have a chance to react. Wouldn’t you know it, it falls just right too, the lid comes open, and all my tiny squishy dick stress relievers and the mini vibrators come falling
out onto the concrete.
“Nice. A beautiful lady like you couldn’t possibly need things like this to give you pleasure. And if you do, well then you’ve been hanging out with the wrong kind of men.”
I never said that. In fact, I’m damn sure that I demanded she picks them up off the ground before I wrote her a citation for littering. Not my finest moment but it got her attention, not that she actually listened.
Part of me wants to quit reading and toss this book in the trash, but the rest of me wants to know how it ends. So, I flip the page continuing on with the story.
By the time I reach the part where we had sex, I’m ready to kill her. Or fuck her. Perhaps both.
Either way, I want to teach her a lesson and give her a reminder of just how good things were together.
She can’t possibly be serious with this bullshit.
Word by word, I read on as she retells our story.
‘The hotel room door slams shut behind us and Boomer wastes no time stripping our clothes off. He slips inside my waiting heat, and in two minutes it’s all over. Apparently, Officer Boomer knows nothing about self-control.’
Did she really say that our first time together was over before it began? We obviously have two different memories of that night.
I had her body humming and was fully in tune with her every need. I pulled several orgasms from her before finally giving in and finding my own release. Not bragging – that’s a fact. We went all night long. And I would have even fucked her again the next morning had my phone not rang right before I joined her in the shower.
Shit, my cock is rock hard right now, recalling how her body responded to mine.
It wasn’t my fault that things went to hell in a handbasket and duty called.
I keep reading page after page, it’s like a train wreck that I can’t look away from.
KJ’s words are doing nothing for my raging hard-on. I’m absolutely turned on as she describes Leah riding Boomer’s dick, her tits bouncing with each movement. Much how KJ’s tits bounced as I thrust into her from below, while she rode me.
Giving my cock a hard squeeze through my shorts, I let out a moan. No way am I about to jerk off while reading a book. No matter how good the imagery is. No. Just. No.
When the scene ends, I’m tempted to put down the book and, erm, clear my head. But I keep reading to see what happens next.
Her words are nothing like I expected. The underlying hurt that I unintentionally caused her shines through the story. Leah’s character takes a heartbreaking vow of celibacy and shuts herself off before Boomer can redeem himself. I can’t help but wonder if I did that to her or if KJ’s inflated that part too.
She must have thought I would never read this. Or she wrote it hoping I would.
This weekend just got a lot more interesting with this knowledge in my back pocket.
Did I mention that I would be at the table next to the Hot Cop today?
Call it divine intervention, or karma – whatever the hell you want. I’ve known for the last three weeks that out of 199 other options, I’d be seated at the table next to author Annabelle Lawson and her model. None other than Rhys Mitchell.
You would think, the signing should be no big deal. The hard part is over. I gave my keynote speech at last night’s dinner and wowed the crowd, I might add. Even if Rhys was sitting in the audience, watching me the whole time. Managing to avoid him, and his ‘date’ was another win for me. Okay, so it wasn’t really a date, but he looked awfully cozy with the winner of the ‘Dinner with a Hot Cop’ contest that Forever Valentine sponsored.
It was kind of insane that they were able to raise five thousand dollars for a local charity promoting a more positive police presence among youth. All for a date with Rhys Mitchell. Who looked refreshed compared to Thursday night.
Now though, there wouldn’t be a crowded ballroom separating us.
I tried desperately to convince Zoey to switch sides with me since we were sharing a table. I even tried guilting her into swapping last night, after she admitted she’s been crushing on Dylan Smith, Rhys’ partner, the last time we were here.
Turns out she’s been talking to Smitty since around the time Rhys became “Hot Cop.” She saw his name pop on a comment, so she reached out to him. I know Zoey, which means, she’s up to something. Her being friends with Rhys’ best friend, is NOT going to end well. I don’t doubt her loyalty, but she has a terrible habit of meddling.
My last hope is that Annabelle Lawson will put him on her left – far away from me.
Tossing the last box on to the luggage cart, I let out a sigh and check my appearance in the mirror one last time. Satisfied that this is as good as it’s gonna get, I send a text off to check on things at home and start tugging the cart toward my hotel room door and pull it open.
I’m forever grateful for Nora who left about five minutes ago to hit up the coffee shop and grab both of us a large caramel macchiato while I finished getting ready. The lack of sleep over the last few months has taken its toll. I’m going to need all the caffeine to make it through today.
Zoey and Katie are already down in the ballroom setting up their table and making sure that I am that much closer to Officer McSteamy, I’m sure of it.
Maybe I’ll get lucky, and he won’t show up until just before go time, that way I have a few less minutes to be distracted by his gorgeous face.
Pushing the button for the elevator, I wait and try to calm my nerves.
The elevator dings, the door opens, and I half expect to see him standing in the elevator. I’m relieved that he’s not. Nora is though. And she has my coffee in her hand. She grabs the cart with her empty hand and trades me.
“Your drink.” She smiles as she pulls the cart into the elevator.
Something tells me I shouldn’t trust that look, but when the first taste of sweetness hits my tongue, I could care less. The silky-smooth caramel mixed with the expresso is divine.
The elevator makes two more stops, and were able to fit one more author and all their things inside with us. We make small talk about the signing and agree to swap books before we reach the lobby and exit the elevator.
There are readers already lining up and chatting excitedly as we make our way down the hall. A few call out my name, and I pause for a picture with them. I’m in my element now. My game face is firmly in place. It’s thrilling, knowing that each and every one of these people are here to meet their favorite author or authors. The readers and bloggers who take a chance on the words I write, on the words my colleagues write – they are what makes all of this possible. It’s because of them that I’m able to live my dream.
In the same ballroom from last night, that has now been transformed into aisles of tables and chairs, Zoey is nearly completely set up. As is Annabelle.
When I stop in front of my half of the table, I let out a groan. Turns out, fate is ignoring me. Judging by Annabelle’s set up, I’m going to be sitting right next to Rhys. Minus the two feet between our tables.
Zoey and Katie are nice and comfy on their side of our table and quite enjoying my distress. Bitches. I look at Nora who starts laughing and shaking her head ‘no.’ She’s my last hope, but she’s bailing on me too.
“You need to be on the outside, for pictures and things,” she waves her hands dismissively.
“I hate you, Nora.”
“You don’t. I brought you coffee. Now, let’s get this table set up.”
At least he’s not here yet, I think to myself as I begin pulling my books from the box and setting them up on the display Nora arranged. I’m lining up copies of my best seller, Hot Cop…Or Not when the energy in the room shifts. I hear a few of the author's voices begin to pick up, there are the flirty giggles and I know he’s arrived.
Perfect timing, I suppose.
“KJ,” his gruff voice sends chills down my spine.
Swallowing hard, I try to ignore his effect on me. The way my pulse kicks up, the goosebumps and the clenching of my core. He shoul
dn’t still make me feel this way.
I’m standing between our tables, still setting up and know that very likely, he wants to get through.
He can go to hell.
I ignore him and continue to align my pen holder and the remaining tiny items on the side of my table. He doesn’t say anything more as he waits. Until his patience snaps and he grunts. Before I can move, he wraps an arm around my hips and quickly tugs me against him. I can feel every inch of his rock-hard body pressed up against mine. Instantly the heat takes over as I press even closer to him.
“Well, what do you know, me and your latest hero have a lot in common.” He tosses a copy of my book on the table. “You got two things wrong though, darlin.’ For one, we both know, I’m not a minute man. Nor did I leave you without a word.” His breath is hot on my skin, and in spite of my hate for the man, my body continues to react. “I gotta give it to you though. Most of those sex scenes were pretty damn accurate. Feel free to sign that and give it back, when you’re done.”
The moment is over before I have a chance to respond. His hands are gone, and I miss their presence. He’s slid past me now and is already seated and charming Annabelle by the time I have the courage to look in his direction. Rhys’ back is to me, but I don’t miss Annabelle looking at me with disgust as she says something to him. When he looks over his shoulder, I know whatever she’s said, it’s about me.
Trying to shake off the feelings swirling in both my head and my heart, I focus on final touches to my table, but it’s almost pointless. Especially when Katie decides to chime in on the topic.
“That was pretty fucking hot,” she dramatically fans her face with a stack of bookmarks.
I flip her the middle finger. Doesn’t stop her though.
“Seriously, what’s the deal with you two? You’ve got some serious chemistry. You should put it to good use and work out some of your sexual frustration.”
“Katie. Keep your voice down,” I mumble. “Better yet, shut the hell up.”
“Just sayin’,” Katie makes a kissy face at me as she stands and walks around the table. “Come on, photo time before this thing gets started.”
Hot Cop (Too Hot To Handle Book 1) Page 3