Lawful Domination [Uniform Fetish 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Stacey Espino

  There was a clock on the dresser, the soft ticking of the seconds lulling her into sleep. She had nothing to fear, enveloped by these men who lived to serve and protect.

  Chapter Ten

  When Stephanie woke up, the room appeared different than it had when she fell asleep. The walls were no longer lit by soft, indirect lighting. The early morning sun flooded the room with a gentle, cheery glow from the open curtains. She tossed in the bed, her legs intermingling with the sheets. Her body was deliciously sore, and to her surprise, she only craved more of the same double action from last night. But her men were nowhere to be seen. She sat up, trying to listen for any sounds. She hadn’t even noticed them slip from the bed.

  Before she could get off the bed to find her clothes, the heavy sound of footfalls came up the hallway toward her. She pulled the blankets up to cover her chest and waited. It was Grayson, in full uniform.

  He looked so much taller and imposing with all his layers of blue and gear strapped to his body. She suddenly felt very small and very naked.

  “You’re awake.” He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes roaming over her. He was seduction in a uniform, his dark eyes reminding her of how he dominated her body last night.

  “I thought you had the day off?”

  “We got called in to help with a case.” He stepped into the room and came to sit down beside her. The bed dipped from his weight. Why did he have such a serious expression on his face?

  He brushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He stared into her eyes as if she were a problem to solve. “What?”

  “Why didn’t you tell us everything about that night, Stephanie?”

  She swallowed hard. What did he know?

  “You saw something, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “If this has something to do with the gala, nothing happened. I went in, got the information for my story, and got out. That’s it. God, I’ve already been questioned by your coworkers.” She knew she was starting to ramble, but his expression hadn’t changed. He didn’t believe a word she said. Stephanie had always been a terrible liar.

  “I’m not your enemy. You can tell me anything.”

  “Why? Because you’re a cop?” She scoffed. There were hundreds of police in the city. What made Grayson different?

  “More than that.”

  “I didn’t see anything,” she repeated. He refused to acknowledge his emotional side, so why should she do any different? It was a new day, but she still felt the same—she wanted more from Grayson and Dominic than one night of bliss. She really liked them. They were funny and attentive, not just nice to look at. But she’d blown her chance by sleeping with them so soon. They probably thought she was some common slut who jumped in bed with any man. It wasn’t true. Stephanie loved to flirt and talk big, but she had deep-seated insecurities when it came to men. The closest she’d come to a man in the past two years was in her nighttime fantasies.

  Dominic appeared in the doorway. “You tell her?”

  “Tell me what?” she asked.

  “You didn’t tell her about her apartment? It’s already eight thirty. We should be bringing her into the station by now.”

  “What’s going on?” A shiver of fear ran up her spine. She looked to Gray for clarification. He knew something but held back. “Why are you taking me back there?”

  She was about to bolt off the bed, but Gray reached out so fast she didn’t see his hand coming. He gripped her arm and held her in place. “We got a call about a break-in at your apartment building…”

  “And?”

  Dom came in and stood beside the bed. “It was your apartment, Stephanie. It was trashed.”

  Her heart raced. She felt violated, confused, and very alone. “Trashed? What do you mean?”

  He dropped to one knee. “I mean trashed. That’s where we’ve been all morning. They left nothing in one piece.” The look of sympathy that crossed his face made her feel worse. She turned to Gray.

  “How bad was it?”

  “They even sliced open your mattress. I doubt you’ll find anything worth salvaging.”

  Tears threatened to fill her eyes, but she fought them back. She’d earned everything in her apartment on her own. Hard work and sacrifice were all she knew. Her bastard father had only left her with her last name, something she vowed to change when she had the money to pay a lawyer. Now she had nothing at all?

  She mentally catalogued everything she cherished—photos, teddy bears, mementos, and even the special gold necklace her mother saved for. It had been an eighteen-year birthday gift, engraved and irreplaceable. Not to mention all her furniture, clothes, and shoes.

  “I need to go home. They can’t have taken everything.” She scanned the room for her clothes, feeling desperate and a little crazed. Even if she got her necklace back, it would give her a sense of peace. If she didn’t try, she only had the shirt on her back. With no money in her bank account, she’d have to start all over, a week at a time. She’d likely spend the next six months sleeping on her floor, wearing handouts from Goodwill. Her mind was spinning.

  “You’re not going anywhere but the station,” said Dom.

  “Sweetheart, it wasn’t a random crime. They were either looking for something or leaving a message. If you know anything, you have to tell us.”

  Should she? Would it even make a difference? She doubted she’d be able to pick the guys out of a lineup. The entire day of the gala was a blur, one she wanted to permanently forget.

  She tried to appeal to Gray, grasping his lapel. “Please don’t make me go to the station. I don’t want to answer the same questions. They make me feel like a criminal when I’ve done nothing wrong. Please, Gray, don’t make me.”

  * * * *

  Again with the name. It sluiced through his heavy guards straight to his heart. He couldn’t save his wife from the drunk driver who’d stolen her life, but he had the power to change things for Stephanie. He felt a deep protective instinct, a personal obligation to protect and care for the girl.

  “I won’t make you,” he said.

  “What? Grayson, you know the chief will want to see her.”

  “Did you tell her she was here? I know I didn’t.”

  “Withholding that kind of information is the same as lying, and you know it, dammit.” Dom paced the room. He always liked to do things by the book. His job was everything to him. He pushed himself harder than everyone else every time they had assessments and physicals. It was like he tried to prove something, as if being a cop defined him. How long would that suffice?

  “Look, we’ve already booked the cottage. Let’s get the fuck out of the city. We’ll take Stephanie with us. At least I’ll know she’s safe.”

  Dom didn’t look like he would budge on his stance until Stephanie spoke up. She reached for his hand. He didn’t hesitate in taking it and dropping down to one knee. “It’s just a few days. I have nowhere else to go, and I don’t want to be questioned. Not now.”

  “But it’s dangerous right now. Someone’s trying to hurt you, and I want to know who.”

  She tugged him closer. “Please,” she whispered.

  “If we lose our jobs, I’m blaming you, Grayson.” Dom stood up and tossed his hat on the bed. “She doesn’t even have clothes to bring.”

  “Even better,” he said.

  Dom exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll call the station and make sure we’re clear to take off.” He left the room, his heavy shoes marking his retreat.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “Everything. Not making me go in for questioning. For standing up for me. I’m not used to that.”

  “Well, get used to it. I take care of what’s mine.” Was she his? The words spilled out before he could contemplate them. He’d vowed never to love again, to live in perpetual mourning for the rest of his life. Naomi was his everything and he wouldn’t tarnish her memory by lovi
ng a new woman while she lay dead and buried. But he was only thirty-four, with his whole life ahead of him. Would he continue to live it in loneliness because his guilt was insurmountable?

  He saw qualities of his lost wife in the beauty beside him, but she was her own woman. She carried herself with a confident grace, yet he still saw the vulnerable little girl peek through. He wanted to coddle her just as much as he needed her to love him back. He didn’t feel deserving of affection, not after he felt like a failure for not being able to save his wife.

  “Am I your property now, Officer Myers?” He couldn’t tell if she was being playful or serious. Her tone was off, and usually he could judge a person’s intentions well.

  “Consider yourself under protective custody, Ms. Vasquez.”

  She shook her head. “Please don’t use that name.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s my father’s name, and he doesn’t deserve to have his mark on me. I never even knew him.”

  “I see.” Grayson dealt with deadbeat fathers every day on the job. They were lowlifes who didn’t see children as a blessing but as a liability. If he’d been blessed with a child, he’d give it everything he never had, including the love stolen from him so many years ago.

  “As soon as I save enough I’m getting my name changed legally.” She let out a shuddering breath. “Of course, that dream will likely be on hold even longer now.”

  “Did you have contents insurance?”

  She shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “I could barely pay the rent. I have nothing now.”

  Stephanie had him. Or did she? Could he give enough of himself to make a relationship fair to her? She deserved the best of everything, not a secondhand lover who couldn’t commit to her fully.

  “You’ve been through hell this week. Just don’t worry about anything for the next three days. We’ll sort everything out when we get back.”

  Dom returned, his posture more at ease. “We’re cleared to head up to the cottage,” he said. “They’re checking in with Steph at the Heartland Tribute Monday morning. Apparently, they think she’s visiting relatives this weekend.”

  “And where would they get that idea?” He cocked an eyebrow at his friend. So, he was incapable of lying unless it involved one hot little number with big brown eyes.

  “Don’t know, don’t care. All I want to think about is how big my catch will be.” He started to strip off his uniform, tossing the layers on the end of the bed. “Come on. We’re already way behind schedule.” Dom tapped his watch before rushing out of the room again with an empty duffel bag.

  “Ready for an adventure?” he asked.

  Her resulting smile was so sweet it caught his breath. “Protective custody,” she reminded. “You best bring your handcuffs with you.”

  * * * *

  I’m going to kill Grayson. Dom chanted the sentence in his head as he rummaged through the house, packing last-minute supplies they’d need. When he got to the kitchen, he dumped two bags of ice from the freezer into the cooler. A camping trip wasn’t a camping trip without cold beer. After the first night, nothing would be chilled, so they’d have to enjoy themselves tonight.

  Everything was going according to plan except for one minor detail—Stephanie Vasquez. What did Grayson think would happen? Dom already felt himself slipping fast, losing himself to the brunette with the feisty personality. A weekend alone for the three of them was a recipe for disaster. Dom would fall madly in love and make a fool of himself while Grayson remained cold and unaffected as usual. Stephanie was vulnerable because her place just got ransacked. Her mock affection was a result of fear, not love. He refused to base a relationship on such fleeting emotion, regardless of how he felt.

  Could he handle a weekend of casual sex while breaking the rules at work? Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about bedding a fast woman or two. Their lovely journalist changed everything. Sex wasn’t just sex anymore, it was making love. He’d actually felt connected to Stephanie last night, a plane deeper than the superficial ones he was used to.

  What if Grayson was actually developing real feelings for Stephanie? On one hand, he wouldn’t want to interfere. He loved his friend and wanted nothing more than to see him move on with his life, rather than being trapped in the past by the ghost of his wife. But he also wanted Stephanie for himself. It was time for him to think long term, and what could be better than waking up to the dark-eyed beauty every morning? He had the means to support her and enough love and energy to meet all her needs.

  He pounded his fist on the kitchen counter, feeling like an insect caught in a spider’s web. No matter what decision he made, he’d only get tangled deeper.

  “You okay?”

  Dominic whirled around, finding Stephanie standing in the kitchen. She wore her clothes from last night, her hair slightly tousled. “Where’s Grayson?”

  “He’s packing. He said you might have some small T-shirts for me to use.”

  “Right. I have a box of extras from our softball league. There may be some shorts, too.” He waved for her to follow him to the basement.

  They hadn’t finished the basement yet. There was plenty of space for just the two of them in the house. It was slightly musty and dark as he walked down the rickety wooden stairs to the lower level. He could hear Stephanie following behind him.

  The boxes he sought were lined up against the wall. He began to root through the T-shirts, squinting his eyes to try and read the size labels on the necks of the shirts.

  “Here. Try this on.” He held out the T-shirt and waited. She looked up at him as if seeking direction.

  “Now?”

  “Go on,” he said.

  She unbuttoned her blouse, one fastening at a time. Then she gently slid it off her shoulders like melting chocolate. She wore no bra. His cock instantly reacted, tenting in his boxer briefs.

  Before Stephanie could slip the shirt over her head, he reached out and palmed one of her breasts. How could he resist? She was perfect, her tits sloping out into tempting peaks, her nipples tight, firm buds.

  He heard her sudden intake of breath. “I thought we were supposed to be getting ready,” she said. Dominic was only in his boxers. He’d already showered before heading to the break-in call at Stephanie’s apartment, but now he had to get dressed in his weekend wear—cargo shorts and a tank top.

  “How am I supposed to survive a weekend with you underfoot?” He trailed his fingertip along her jawline and then traced her full lips. She reached up and grabbed his wrist, bringing his finger into her mouth. As she looked up into his eyes, she fucked his finger with her mouth. The little tease would be the death of him. “That’s not fair,” he murmured.

  She released him and dropped down to her knees. The basement was all dark shadows, a triangle of light from the main level providing minimal lighting. When she tugged down the hem of his boxers, his erect cock sprang out. He had to brace the concrete wall with one hand.

  “I’m not cruel, Dom. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.” She wrapped her hot, wet mouth around the spongy head of his cock. Stephanie wasn’t shy now. She took his length eagerly, her tongue twirling around the rim of his head each time she’d pull back. Her mouth was wicked, each suck and lick bringing his balls up close to his body as the pressure built and built. He loved the spontaneity of the moment, the fact it was just her and him, and that she’d initiated the act.

  “Fuck that feels good, Steph.”

  His encouragement spurred her on. She sucked faster, bobbing up and down over his cock in a rhythm that stole his last shred of sanity. He grabbed the hair at the back of her head, securing her to his dick. Any minute…

  Just as he heard a creak at the top of the stairs, he burst into her mouth, jets of hot cum rushing out. She didn’t cringe and pull away but swallowed every drop. It was a good feeling for a man. There was no way he’d let Stephanie go.

  “I thought you were in a rush, Weston?”

  “Would you say no?” He tucke
d his semiflaccid cock back into his boxers and pulled Stephanie up to her feet. “I’m good for the drive now,” he teased.

  Grayson took slow, calculated steps down into the dank basement. His eyes were menacing, his chin held high. There was no way Stephanie was getting past him.

  Chapter Eleven

  She didn’t know what came over her. Dominic just looked so damn tempting in just his boxer briefs. The shadows highlighted every hard ridge of muscle along his shoulders, pecs, and abs. As the silence in the basement settled around them, she felt a unique intimacy between them. One that quickly turned into much more.

  But she’d been caught in the act by Grayson. He had such a dominant aura that her clit began to throb when he looked at her. He’d partially changed. He still wore his fitted navy uniform pants with the reflective red stripe down the sides, but he no longer had on his shirt and jacket. He had a tight black tank top on which accentuated his broad shoulders and dark features.

  She knew what he wanted. He wanted to fuck. Being caught was titillating. He’d watched the tail end of the show when she’d swallowed Dom’s cum and finished him off.

  “I guess we better get ready, then,” she said. Stephanie attempted to slip by him on the narrow wooden steps, but he blocked her way. “It’s getting late,” she reminded.

  He shook his head, slowly. She felt like a young girl being scolded, which only made her hotter. “Protective custody, remember? That means you’re mine for the weekend. My property. Whatever I say goes.”

  Her breathing picked up. There wasn’t enough air in the whole city to meet her needs. “I understand,” she said. This was the ultimate turn-on for Stephanie. She craved to be dominated, which was a key part of her uniform fetish. The uniform symbolized power, authority, dominance, and male strength. Her pussy cramped, aching to be fucked. How long would he make her wait? Would he spank her for giving Dom head and not him?