by Rhyll Biest
He dodged it with ease—the long-limbed freak—and gave her a taste of her own medicine, applying an escort hold. The one he’d shown her during their first de-escalation class together, the romantic motherfucker.
She laughed and breathed through the mild discomfort.
‘Remember this?’ he whispered in her ear.
They were meant to be pretending to be strangers but she smiled. ‘How could I forget?’
‘I prefer it this way.’ His breath stirred her hair. ‘Without a class watching and you without underwear.’
‘Who says I was wearing underwear at class?’
He groaned.
The sound kicked her pulse up a notch. ‘And you better handcuff me because I plan to resist the fuck out of this arrest.’
He fumbled to extract the restraints from his load-bearing vest, something she’d bet he never usually did.
‘Lost something?’ So much fun to rattle his cage.
‘Nope, I’ve got them right here.’
Click.
She grimaced. Those suckers were tighter than she’d expected.
He opened the door. ‘Get in the car.’
Ah, yes. His car.
All chrome and leather and testosterone.
A truly evil part of her was looking forward to defiling it with her cape of oestrogen, making it smell like her. She smiled as he kept a hand on her crown to keep her from banging her head as she climbed in—like a proper arrest.
The door slammed closed and a second later he was in the passenger seat, lowering his pants to free some impressive wood.
She’d sure missed that part of him the past week.
He met her eyes. ‘You sure about this? No condom?’
She gave a curt nod, eyes lingering on his arousal. ‘We talked about it. You’re clean, I’m clean. I have a Mirena IUD which is over ninety-nine percent effective. We are ready for lift off.’
He stroked her face. ‘And the other thing? You’re sure?’
‘I’m very sure.’ He was so sweet, worrying about her.
He glanced at his erection. ‘Then get me off. It’s that or a speeding ticket.’
But not worrying too much.
He took himself in hand, gave his erection several long, hard, luxuriant strokes while giving her a meaningful look. The smell of come, cock and aggression filled the car. ‘Get to it.’
She gave a dismissive sniff. ‘I don’t take orders.’
‘We’ll see about that.’ He took hold of the front of her shirt and she tingled with anticipation.
She forced a scowl. ‘Don’t even think about it, this is my favourite blouse.’ Which I put on just so you could tear it off …
He yanked. Buttons flew like bullets before the heat of his breath hit her skin.
‘I like it better this way.’ His sneer was quite convincing.
‘You’ve ruined it, you bastard.’ She raised her chin like a feisty heroine. ‘I shall sue the department.’
‘Sure, send me the summons for that, and the one for this.’ He buried his face in the temporary cleavage created by her Wonderbra.
She almost laughed. Almost. ‘I’ll have your badge for this.’ A little clichéd but she was running out of lines and the scrape of his stubble against her breasts was all kinds of distracting.
He raised his head. ‘You’re so mouthy. How about we fill that mouth with something other than nasty words?’
Oh, hooray!
He wound his hand in her ponytail and guided her head down. The sharp scent and taste of male arousal greeted her as she opened her mouth and he slid between her lips.
He was so thick she struggled to breathe. Her clit gave a kick of excitement.
With her hands cuffed behind her back and his hand guiding her head, she had zero control over how deep or fast he used her mouth. Sure, she only had to tap twice on his thigh to make him stop, but who knew how far things would go before that happened? She might wait until her jaw ached, until after he’d abused her mouth in the most shameful way and had forced her to take every last hot drop of come. The threat of helplessness further lubricated her already slippery sex. It was exciting to play at being used in a way she’d never permit for real.
‘See, there’s a much better use for that mouth than complaints. Suck harder.’ He rolled his hips. ‘Oh, yeah, that’s it.’
A glance at him revealed he’d closed his eyes but his lips had parted, a peculiarly helpless look for a man supposedly violating her.
She wasn’t afraid, she could take anything. Absolutely anything. And she would prove it. She tightened the seal of her mouth around him, allowed him to set the pace, and let the discomfort of her twisted position, the cuffs around her wrists and the ache of her jaw fade. All that mattered was the now, and how much of him she could take, and the steady hum of satisfaction in her clit.
And the filthy, guttural words of praise he heaped on her.
‘Good girl, you’re taking me so nice and deep. Keep that up and I’ll give you a turn on my cock. Won’t that be a nice reward?’
She pictured his arms, taut as he fucked her mouth, his face as mean as his words. All her worries and fears grew distant as the handcuffs rubbed her wrists, her arms grew stiff in their sockets and sweat trickled between her breasts. All she had to do was please him, nothing else mattered.
It was like a weight taken off her.
Whereas he was in trouble.
Those needy, stuttering gasps of his matched the motion of his hips and hands—jerky, uneven.
‘Fuck, I’m close.’ With a tug of her ponytail he raised her head.
He met her eyes. ‘You okay?’
Breathless, she nodded. Did she not look okay? Probably not, if her eyes were as wild as his, and her lips were as swollen and come-stung as they felt.
He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. ‘I’m glad I pulled you over for blowing through that red light so you could blow me instead.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re very chatty for a cop.’
‘And you suck cock like a champion. Let’s see if the rest of you compares. Climb aboard.’ He squeezed his thighs together so she could straddle him on the car seat.
His hands found the back of her bra and unhooked it as she kneeled, her slick folds poised above him. With much display, as if he were tasting one of Stacey’s fine wines, he licked one nipple, then the other. ‘Mmmm. So much sweeter and softer than that nasty mouth of yours.’
She looked away, let her voice waver. ‘Please don’t make me, I’m saving myself for marriage.’
‘Jesus will understand.’ He felt between her legs, groaned. ‘I don’t believe it. How can you be this wet from giving me head?’
‘It’s a talent.’
‘Damn straight it is.’ The head of his cock replaced his fingers and he ran himself along the length of her arousal. ‘This is gonna be so good without a condom.’
Impatient with need she pinched his arm. ‘Hurry, or Buffy’s party will be over before you’re done and all the Botox will be gone.’
Chest shaking with silent laughter he guided himself in and she lowered herself, eager for the sensation of biting fullness she’d missed the past few days.
An unnatural stillness filled the car as she took him inside her. Dread, desire and delirium swallowed breath, word and sound in that moment, trapped her within the eye of a hurricane.
Too soon she had to pause. ‘Wait a sec.’ She bit her lip.
‘What about Buffy’s party?’ He kissed her throat, passionate but patient, giving her time to adjust.
She gave herself a moment to welcome his size, wiggled her hips to ease the pressure. ‘Well, I’m sure she’ll save me some collagen lip filler.’
‘You have enough lip already.’ He gave her a lazy smack on the rump that sent a shockwave of pleasure through her.
‘And don’t you love it?’
‘It’s alright.’ The way his eyes darted to where their bodies met belied his cool façade, as did his flar
ing breath.
‘You know, you’re very cocky for a man recently forbidden to operate heavy equipment.’
‘Hey, I’m operating this heavy equipment without any problem.’ His hand brushed the base of his cock.
She shivered at the naked vulnerability of her flesh so intimately entwined with his.
No longer in the mood for talk she raised and lowered herself on his shaft nice and slow, savouring the penetration. And rocked her hips. She liked the way it made his face, throat and ears redden, the way it shut his big mouth. Plus, she was in just the right position to lean forward and stick her tits in his face, an unsubtle prompt that he should do something better with his mouth than sass her.
When he tongued each peak, her head grew light.
Though if she hadn’t just taken her necklace off when she changed her blouse, her fake engagement ring would currently be smacking him in the face. Not a good message. She really needed to tell him how she felt about him. Sometime.
Sometime when she wasn’t busy watching him come apart. She liked everything there was about her view from above, the perfect view of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, the way his lips had parted to reveal a hint of glistening teeth, the rivulet of sweat running down his cheek, the heaviness of his lids. His breath, a harsh pant as he ground his hips beneath hers, provided a raw, ragged surround sound. The dark lashes of his closed eyes rendering his face so vulnerable it was too exquisite.
She swallowed hard as the grind of his hips bumped and rubbed her clit just so, the sensation intensified by the thick slide of him inside her. It was crazy, all of it.
The nasty funk of sex, the air grown hot.
The booming pulse in her ears.
Pressure in all the right places.
With Officer Belovuk.
Chapter 21
There was a man in her bed. A man with a head, two arms, two legs, a torso and a prick that made her lady parts clap their hands in joy.
How strange.
It was like she’d gone to sleep and woken up on fire. How could there be a body lying next to hers causing the mattress to sag? Oh, that’s right, after sex in his car they’d retired to her bedroom because his long limbs were cramping inside the confines of four doors.
‘I wasn’t too rough earlier?’
Luka, like Stumpy, somehow knew when she was awake even when her eyes remained shut. ‘Nope, it was like you’d read some primer called Rough Sex for Nice Guys. Is that a thing?’
He laughed. It was his sexy laugh, the one she liked to imagine had the words ‘property of Kat Daily’ written on it. But that was a silly and dangerous way to think. Look what her father had done to her mother once he’d decided he owned her.
‘Kat, you’re thinking so hard the bed is going to levitate any second.’
Of course she was troubled. This excess of happiness and surfeit of sex, what good could come of it? Couldn’t he see the looming disaster? ‘I don’t know. Maybe I just feel a bit weird about what we did. I hope it wasn’t too off-putting for you.’
‘Off-putting?’ He stared before kissing her on the shoulder. ‘You must be kidding. You’re a strong woman who knows what she wants and goes for it. That’s a turn on, not a turn off.’
‘You think I’m strong?’ Far more so than pretty, smart or kind, she’d always wanted to be thought of as strong.
‘You? Doing the job you do? Hell, yeah.’ He scraped his chin stubble across her shoulder. ‘Your spine is titanium. But I’m glad the rest of you is a little softer.’ He claimed her mouth, hands skimming her contours as eagerly as the first time they’d touched. A tactile man, he was nothing like the paper-pushing official he’d once claimed to be, not that she’d believed that for a second.
His lips moved to her breasts, and as he shifted down the bed for better access the sheet pulled free of his hips, exposing him from the waist down, baring his muscular flank, the obscene jut of muscle that rode his hip, and the dark line of fuzz that marched down to his erection. That rigid flesh that screamed ‘I’m good to go again’.
Her mouth watered. She could tell herself all she liked that she wasn’t the submissive sort but truth be told what her feminist lips wanted most at that moment was to suck his nice, hard cock.
Having a contrary sexuality was a bitch.
Her thoughts drifted and her eyelids grew heavy as Luka’s tongue teased her nipple.
She buzzed with pleasure as his hand slid to her thigh.
‘I think that’s your phone.’
What? Damn, he was right. Her phone was set to vibrate. ‘I’ll call them back later.’ She stroked his thigh. He was so damn Greek statue all over. Maybe there was something to gyms, after all. The phone stilled.
‘Great idea.’ He nuzzled her breast.
Ping! Ping! Buzz-buzz-buzz.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’ She rolled over, snatched up the phone and hit the answer button without looking at the screen. ‘Hello?’
***
Luka knew he should do the polite thing and get out of bed to stop eavesdropping on Kat’s phone call, and yet instinct and the look she’d given him kept him right where he was. He had a pretty good idea it was work which pissed him because a) they were still both naked after the best damn sex of his life and b) he was ready for round two.
‘Where?’ she asked.
A fist of tension gripped the base of Luka’s neck as the phone conversation continued. His hands ached to snap the headboard in two. ‘Who was that?’ he asked as she ended the call.
Kat’s beautiful, naked body snapped to attention. ‘No one.’ She tossed her phone from hand to hand—like a throwing knife she needed to test the balance of—as her gaze rested on him.
He didn’t know whether it was that look that ticked him off, or the way she’d avoided answering like she’d just fielded a booty call and didn’t want him to know. Perhaps the made-up fiancé hadn’t been entirely made-up. ‘You said you were engaged once. What happened?’
‘He broke up with me.’
Nothing ever seemed to work out for her like she planned. He studied her face. On the surface you couldn’t see that she was walking around on broken bones and bore a sucking chest wound in the spot most people had a heart. That was how well she hid it. Eviscerate her and she would skip away singing sooner than let anyone know.
Did the animals—the ones she loved so much she was prepared to face down bikers and shotguns and who knew what else—know it was there? The dogs, the cats, the rabbits, the guinea pigs and birds. Did they sense that gaping hole in her? That her need to save them was an attempt to save herself?
Was that why she’d stayed with him after he’d been hit by the rock, because he was another injured thing she wanted to save? He closed his eyes against the thought, breathed deeply in the hope that the familiar feminine smell of her would staunch what he felt.
‘What are you thinking?’ she asked.
Her eyes, green and wild and full of mysterious things, were far too wary as she studied him.
‘Why’d he break up with you?’ There was a part of him that wanted to punch the guy in the face for ruining her beautiful dream of picket fences and happy families. Then there was the part of him grateful it had happened so that he’d had the chance to meet her.
She nailed him with a glance colder than an autopsy room. ‘None of your business.’
Hello, who was this woman? She certainly wasn’t the lover he’d been snuggling with moments ago. No, she looked more like a felon who might disembowel him using nothing more than the smartphone in her hand and the sweetly savage expression on her face. His mind took a detour, wandered back to the conversation about her parents, stopped at the spot called ‘my parents killed each other’.
He hadn’t seen her like this before. Maybe he hadn’t seen her clearly at all. Caution, as innate to him as it was to her, raised its head and sniffed the air.
You need to de-escalate this situation immediately.
He taught goddamn classes on t
he subject, and yet he still had to rein himself in from asking why the hell she was looking at him like he’d just threatened to stab her dog.
Whatever had the wind up her had nothing to do with him and everything to do with growing up in the tangle of her parents’ mutual violence. She’d said something about her father not letting her mother leave. That, plus the fact he’d married a mail-order bride, suggested he’d been a very controlling man, the type to ask his wife who she’d been talking to—his daughter too, maybe—and to turn it into a frightening interrogation if not satisfied with the answer.
‘You’re right, it’s none of my business.’ Very slowly, very carefully, he got up, pulled his boxers on. ‘I’m going to make coffee. You want some?’
Her gaze flickered. ‘Yes, please.’
That was all she’d wanted, a way out. And he’d given it to her. So why did his insides still feel like mud?
***
Kat quickly dressed, swore softly as her shaking hands refused to untwist her bra. What the hell had that been? One minute they’d been happily canoodling, and she’d been quite looking forward to boffing his brains out. Then there’d been the phone call, Luka’s questions, and Galenka had exploded onto the scene, scanning Luka’s body to determine where she could strike to achieve maximum damage.
And he’d seen the change.
Totally seen it.
Had used his goddamn de-escalation techniques to treat her like one of the aggro types they took turns pretending to be in class.
She’d always assumed she was the one who needed to de-escalate others rather than the other way around.
Her ears ached with the pounding drumbeat of defeat.
What the hell was wrong with her?
Was the explosive violence of her parents hardwired into her? Their unhealthy relationship had looked like illness, smelled like illness. Perhaps she had inherited it.
She zipped up her skirt, residual fight or flight chemicals fizzing in her veins.
He asked about our phone call, Galenka reminded her. He had that look. And questions, so many questions.
Kat knew which look Galenka meant, the possessive one that expected answers. The one that promised disaster. The one that turned Kat’s face numb, sent her heart scrambling for higher ground inside her chest, and clamped her throat so tight she might just never speak again.