Police (The Police Trilogy Book 1)

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Police (The Police Trilogy Book 1) Page 3

by Alexis Shore


  Four

  “You gonna sulk all day son?”

  The sedan bounced over a pothole, and Brandon shifted in his seat. He wasn’t sulking, not really. He just didn’t know the best way to react to what was happening to him this day.

  “I’m not sulking,” he said finally, making sure not to make it sound whiny.

  “Good,” Conrad yanked the wheel, and they turned onto a side street and pulled to a halt in a restricted parking bay.

  “Lunchtime already?” Brandon quipped.

  “Funny.”

  Conrad pulled on the parking brake and turned in his seat to face the rookie detective. And that’s exactly how Brandon felt, out of his depth.

  “I don’t ask just anyone to ride along with me.”

  “I know that.”

  “You got something in your eyes son, something I need.”

  Brandon didn’t know what that meant, but knew it was meant to mean something. All he had in his eyes was last night’s sleep, and the grime from the mid-morning commuter traffic. Brandon didn’t believe you could look into someone’s soul and he wasn’t sure he trusted someone who did.

  “You ready to do some police work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, keep ‘em peeled, follow my lead, and keep your mouth shut.”

  “Right.”

  Brandon inwardly sighed at the way he was being treated. This patronising asshole was playing the alpha male, and he knew he had no recourse. He could floor this son of a bitch with one swift punch to the gut, he knew it, but here he was, acting the underling.

  Conrad swept out of the car and around to the trunk.

  By the time Brandon was out and moving, the trunk clattered shut, and he saw Conrad brandishing a pump action shotgun.

  Instinctively, Brandon reached for his piece, and had it out and ready within two steps.

  Conrad was on one side of a metal door, and he gestured for Brandon to take the other. Then Conrad rapped his knuckles on the door.

  They waited.

  Brandon counted the seconds.

  After ten had passed, they heard a lock being turned, and the door opened a crack.

  In the blink of an eye, Conrad burst through the door, sending the breach of his shotgun into the belly of the man beyond.

  Brandon heard the hit, and stepped in behind Conrad, to see him standing over a prone body. He cocked the gun, put his finger to his lips, and blew the man on the floor a kiss.

  It was dark in the hallway, and there was an odd smell hanging in the air. It was musty and foetid, enough to wrinkle Brandon’s nose.

  He stepped over the squirming man, and followed Conrad slowly along the corridor. Soon they reached a right angle turn, and without breaking step, Conrad rounded it, holding the end of his shotgun like a baseball bat. He swung it violently, and Brandon heard it make contact with a jaw, then saw another man slump to the floor.

  Onwards, and with some speed now, they traversed another length of corridor and burst through a set of swinging doors and out into a shuttered bar. Sunshine poured in through the thin gaps in the shutters, dust danced in the beams, and Brandon felt the floor sticking to his shoes with each step.

  Conrad sat down nonchalantly in a booth and pasted on his best shit eating smile.

  When Brandon reached the booth, he saw a large, elderly man sitting opposite. His glasses were so big it was comical, but behind the thick lenses were eyes so menacing it made Brandon grip his gun tighter.

  “Good morning Detective Duff,” the man said, his voice so deep it vibrated through Brandon’s bones.

  “Alonso,” Conrad nearly winked again.

  “I’ll presume you got some kind of warrant in your pocket.”

  “Some kind.”

  “Who’s the kid?”

  “Name’s Goodheart.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “I know right.”

  Brandon didn’t know if he was meant to take a seat in the booth or not, so he decided to hover, on the balls of his feet, ready to move at any moment. He was blind to the situation, had no idea what his role was, and knew that was the point. This was another fucking test.

  “I already miss Janus,” Alonso growled with some humour.

  “Janus was an asshole.”

  “So are you Detective, so are you.”

  “And here I thought we were friends.”

  “Always.”

  Alonso shifted in the booth, rummaging in his pockets for a moment, and then tossed a roll of hundred dollar bills on the table. Conrad didn’t blink, didn’t even look at the money.

  “In case this a shake down,” Alonso added by way of an explanation.

  “Now you know I don’t do that,” Conrad said.

  “One day I’ll tempt you.”

  “And one day you’ll mop this fucking floor.”

  They both laughed, each as disingenuous as the other.

  “So, what can I do for you Detective?”

  A noise made Brandon spin on his heels, his gun in front of him, aiming at the bar, behind which stood a woman. She had chinked some glass bottles, and now she stood frozen, holding them in her hands as she lifted them in surrender.

  “Monita ain’t gonna hurt you son,” he heard Conrad say with a chuckle in his throat.

  Brandon dropped his gun and turned back round.

  The tension between the two men in the booth was palpable, and they were circling one another with a menace that kept Brandon on edge.

  “Maybe this is a conversation best had in private,” Alonso said.

  Conrad nodded once.

  Brandon didn’t move.

  Conrad and Alonso had locked eyes, and without breaking the glare, Conrad said, “Monita, why don’t you give Goodheart here the tour.”

  Brandon gave him a look, which he ignored.

  Then Monita was by his side, and he felt compelled to holster his gun. She lead him away, and just before they left through a door, Conrad added, “Make sure it’s the full tour.”

  He put an odd stress on the word full.

  The door closed, and Brandon heard a bolt sliding. He turned around and glared at Monita accusingly. She didn’t baulk.

  Instead she moved into the middle of the small room and put her hands on her hips. Her vest top was too tight for her buxom cleavage, some of which was spilling out alluringly, and her shorts were shorter than they should be.

  Brandon realised they were in a tiny room, no more than a few feet wide, a few beer barrels along one wall, and a stack of crates along another. It stank of stale lager.

  “Not much of a tour,” he said with a slight smile.

  Monita lurched forward and pushed him hard against a wall, and before he could react, she had her mouth on his, forcing her tongue deep into it, as her hand found his prick and balls through his jeans.

  He was too shocked to react at first, and so she continued to kiss him hard and deep, massaging away at his groin until he could feel it start to respond.

  Brandon didn’t want this, and he tried to pull away, but she was too insistent. He gripped her ponytail and pulled her head back, bending her neck. She looked down her nose at him with contempt.

  “Don’t be so fucking stupid,” she said in a lilting accent that made his prick stiffen.

  “What?”

  “There’s a camera watching us,” she explained with a whisper.

  “So?”

  “This is what we’re supposed to be doing.”

  “What?”

  She shook her head, then gripped his balls so tight he let go of her hair and she pushed her mouth back to his. Her tongue was insistent, urgent, and she quickly found the shape of his prick in her hand and began to wank at it roughly through the denim. The way her voluptuous tits pressed wantonly into his chest made his cock grow bigger and harder, and without knowing when he started, he realised his hands had found each of those juicy tits and he was massaging them with desire now.

  She moaned into the kiss, and he wasn’t sure if i
t was genuine or not.

  Brandon didn’t know how far this subterfuge was meant to go. Were they supposed to just grind against one another while some goon watched on a monitor somewhere? What he did know though, was that he wanted to get his hands closer to those delicious tits. And so when he pushed his hands under her top and snaked his fingers under the cups of her bra, he liked that she moaned again and pumped his prick more vociferously.

  His fingers found her nipples, so big and hard for him, and he pinched at them, hard, tight, making her hiss into his mouth before she sucked his tongue deep into hers.

  Before he could do anything else, she dropped to her knees, and he suddenly felt slighted. He wanted to feast on her nipples, even as she tugged open his fly and pulled his jeans and shorts down. His prick stood up, so hard now, his balls swollen beneath. She ducked her head and took one testicle into her mouth with a wet hunger that made him groan deeply. She reached up to his prick and wrapped her cool fingers around its hot shaft, and began to pump it slowly as she rolled his balls in her mouth.

  She moaned again, the vibrations so delicious against his stiff cock.

  “Suck it,” he sighed.

  And she did, gripping it at the base and aiming the tip past her wet full lips, teasing at his shaft with her tongue as she slipped down his length, before sucking hard and letting him rock against her face.

  He heard the button of her shorts pop open, and he looked down to see her hand had slipped between her legs to find her clit. When she touched it, she moaned hard against her mouthful, and he gasped with wonder.

  He closed his eyes and pushed his head back against the cold wall.

  And then he felt something odd.

  As she fucked him orally with deep, wet sucks, she was pushing something into his left sock. It felt like a folded piece of paper.

  But he quickly forgot about it as the tip of her tongue suddenly pushed into his tip and found a spot that made him swear out loud.

  And then she let go completely, kneeling in front of him, and pulled her top off, before discarding her bra to reveal to most amazing pair of tits Brandon had ever seen. She knelt up and lifted both breasts with her hands, pushing their cool flesh around his red hot prick and letting him feel just how delicious they were.

  He sighed long and deep, then looked her in the eye. She looked back, with giant pupils that glistened in the light. He could see the tip of his prick sliding up and down between those amazing breasts, and all he could think in that moment was how they would feel in his mouth.

  “I wanna fuck you,” he said.

  A look crossed her face, a moment of annoyance, and then one of arousal as she accepted the idea. She even licked her lips as she stood up and he ducked his face to one of her tits, sucking hard on the nipple and loving how she moaned at that.

  Suddenly, she span around and bent over, pushing her delightful ass in the air as she braced her arms on a barrel. He waddled forward, his pants still around his ankles, and grabbed each buttock firmly in his hands, loving how firm and swollen they felt. She wriggled her hips, stepping her legs apart and reaching down to open her pussy with one hand for him.

  “Fuck me already,” she said, her voice laced thick with desire and arousal.

  He stroked his hands to her hips and gripped them firmly, as she grabbed his prick and guided it into her pussy. She sighed as he pushed inside, so tight, so hot, so wet. He couldn’t help himself, and he started to fuck her hard and fast, with deep, powerful thrusts that made her grunt loudly. His hips slapped into her cheeks, and he knew those delicious tits were swinging under her chest, so he reached for them, scooping them into his hands and massaging them roughly.

  She liked that, swearing loudly and asking him to fuck her harder.

  He did.

  “Come on my ass,” she gasped, knowing he was close.

  He pulled out and grabbed his prick in his hand. It was coated in her cream and felt amazing as he pumped it in his fist, aiming it towards her butt as she reached back and spread her cheeks for him.

  He tensed up and held his breath, feeling his prick twitch in his fist, feeling the come jerking from within, watching it land in thick creamy ribbons on her buttocks and asshole.

  She moaned again, and began to finger massage the spunk into her puckered anus, and he watched with wide eyes, as with her other hand she frigged her clit, coming loudly and with abandon.

  Brandon had no idea if her arousal was genuine or not, and to be honest, in that moment, he didn’t care. The whole thing had been horny as fuck from start to finish.

  She turned around and sat on the barrel, still fingering her clit, her legs wide open, and her tits looking even bigger and more delicious.

  He took the hint, and dropped to his knees, pushing his mouth to her pussy. It was so hot and wet, and her thighs tensed around his ears as he found her clit with the fat flesh of his tongue and started to lap at it. Her fingers snaked into his hair and pulled it tight, as she convulsed with another orgasm. When she was done, she pushed him away, and he fell onto his naked ass.

  She licked her lips again and smiled, a look of complete satisfaction, satiated and content. For the briefest of moments, her eyes darted to his ankle and the sock she had slipped something in, and they shared a look of understanding.

  He stood up, pulling his underwear and pants back on, watching her sitting naked on the barrel, still fingering her dripping wet pussy.

  “Say hello to Conrad for me,” she said, and then she looked up at the camera in the corner.

  Brandon smiled weakly, then stepped back out into the bar.

  “Looks like he’s done,” Conrad said, and got up from the booth.

  Alonso said nothing, and didn’t even look at Brandon as both detectives walked back out the way they had come in. Once in the car, they quickly pulled back out onto the main street and Conrad held out his hand.

  “Oh,” Brandon shook himself from his quiet reverie and fumbled in his sock for the paper.

  “She sucks a mean prick,” Conrad laughed.

  Brandon held up the paper, and Conrad snatched it away, stuffing it into his jacket pocket without examining it.

  “Shame she never wants a proper fuck,” Conrad said.

  Brandon stared out of the window, smelling her on his skin, a little wry smile growing on his lips.

  Five

  At least Eve had learned one thing from her sneaky look at the file.

  This address.

  She stared out from her car, looking at the house across the street, the bright orange sun slowly dropping behind it. The lawn looked immaculate, especially when the sprinklers suddenly came on, sending a plume of water into the air and kicking out a dancing rainbow.

  The shift would be over soon, Eve knew that, which meant time was of the essence. And yet, she was planted to the seat, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white, hunched forward to keep the butterflies in her stomach at bay.

  A kid on a bike rode past, the cards in his spokes making a rhythmic thump that startled her enough to release the wheel. He chimed his bell at no one in particular and continued to cycle on down the road.

  Time to go.

  Eve grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, feeling the evening heat unexpectedly on her face. The alarm chirruped as she trotted away from the car and up onto the opposite sidewalk. Within a few seconds she was on his porch and at the front door.

  She wasn’t sure what she wanted to find, just knew that this was the best and only way to get a head start on the investigation.

  Eve tried the door handle, knowing it was a futile gesture even before she found it locked.

  Maybe there was an open window round back.

  She traversed the narrow pathway along the side of the house, and past through the gap where a gate should have stood.

  Like the lawn in front, this one was immaculate as well. It even had stripes in the grass. The fences back here were high, which made her feel more comfortable, even as she tri
ed the back door and found it too was locked.

  Eve sighed and for a moment considered smashing a pane of glass.

  And then a thought struck her.

  She reached up to the frame above the door and worked her fingers along. She smiled when they touched a key, which she retrieved and pushed into the lock with a lump in her throat. It fit, and turned easily.

  With that, she stepped inside and let the door close behind her.

  She stood on the threshold for a few seconds, catching her breath and trying to summon the courage to continue. Her heart was thumping loud in her chest, and she was about ready to turn around and run out of there.

  This kitchen wasn’t what she was expecting either, not from him.

  It was spotless, and had a plethora of expensive gadgets. For some reason, she opened the fridge, expecting to find it full of beer and microwave meals, but it was stocked with fruit and vegetables, healthy drinks, delicious looking leftovers, and a pot full of ground coffee.

  Suddenly she felt like she didn’t know this guy one little bit; and then she panicked that she might even be in the wrong house.

  She span on her feet, looking for confirmation that this was indeed the right place, and she found a framed picture on the wall. He smiled back at her from behind the glass, hugging a woman close to his side.

  Eve cocked her head, and found herself strangely attracted to his eyes. So brown, so big, so moody. And that jaw. Eve licked her lips and ignored the tiny little itch of arousal in her clit. She didn’t want to think about how she would react to him in person.

  With a shake of the head, she moved deeper into the house, still not sure what she was hoping to find.

  The hallway was dark, and her long shadow spread out in front of her as the sun dipped lower behind.

  Sneaking into the den, she saw the obligatory massive widescreen television, but there was something about the room that bothered her still. It didn’t look used. She stroked her finger across a shelf and saw the trail left in the thin film of dust. It was like this was an impression of a den.

  Actually, that was true of everything she had seen so far.

  This place looked more like a show home than a place where someone lived.

 

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