Lust in the First Degree [The Andersons 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Marie Jermy

  Matt pushed his brother’s words back to the fringes of his mind. Opting for boxers over briefs, he then donned his uniform. He buckled his equipment belt and decided to go for the full works, including handcuffs. With what Darcy had told him that afternoon about her abusive parents, he didn’t think she’d appreciate being restrained, but used properly and with consent, there was a lot of fun to be had with bondage. He did make sure the radio was switched off. Since he was off duty, he didn’t want to be interrupted with a 10-code while Darcy was naked and giving him the go-ahead to be cuffed to his bed. His cock jumped at the image.

  After a final check that the house was tidy—not that that he thought Darcy would notice, not when he planned on fucking her until she couldn’t see, talk, or walk straight—he donned his hat and left for Rustlers.

  Darcy was waiting for him on the steps. His heart immediately started jackhammering in his chest. She’d left her hair wild and loose, and bright-pink lipstick coated her mouth. As promised, she was wearing the micro-length denim skirt and heels. With the way her nipples were pointed behind the two strappy tank tops—one lime, the other turquoise—he knew she wore no bra.

  Matt favored that double-layered look. Like any kid, when he was growing up, he loved ripping the gift wrap from presents. His favorite party game had been pass the parcel. Only on this occasion, his reward for unwrapping Darcy wouldn’t be a candy bar but a pair of sweet tits made for his mouth to suck and fuck.

  “Is this how it’s gonna be? Me waiting for you?” She impatiently tapped her foot on the wood of the steps, her heels sounding out an enticing “do me” beat.

  He glanced at his watch. He was half an hour early. “I did offer to meet you outside the Slumberland, but you turned me down flat.” He put his hand to his chest as if wounded. “Obviously being a gentleman doesn’t impress you. Oh, Darcy, dear, what’s a man to do to get a hot fuck from you?”

  Her response was scathingly cool, but her attempts at trying not to smile added warmth and took the sting out. “I haven’t known you long enough for us to fuck. But have a cocktail with me and your luck might change. Besides, you did say you would, and I’m sure John can come up with a whiskey-based cocktail just for you.”

  Matt did have a recollection of agreeing to one of Stanford’s cocktails when he’d left Darcy earlier. “Mmm, okay. But not too many. I don’t want you drunk. I don’t want you passing out before our night of hot fucking. That is, if you decide you’ve known me long enough.”

  “Ha!” she scoffed. “I could drink you under the table.”

  He doubted that very much. He held the door open for her and whispered in her ear as she passed, “You look fucking hot tonight, Darcy.”

  Darcy turned and bestowed a swift, sizzling kiss to his mouth. “So do you, Matt. Your uniform makes my pussy wet.”

  For early evening, Rustlers was relatively busy. A group of men Matt had not seen before were playing a loud game of pool, and the dance floor was crammed with bodies, locals mostly, which didn’t take much as it was the size of a postage stamp, after all. With a look of relief on his face, Stanford immediately approached him.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Matt. Party over there,” Stanford said over the music and nodding in the direction of the pool table. “One of them is a birthday boy. Think you can have a word if it gets too rowdy and they don’t listen to me?”

  Matt held up his hands. “Sorry, John, but I’m off duty.”

  Stanford ran his eye over Matt, taking in everything from the hat to the fully loaded equipment belt. “But you’re in uniform.”

  He was pretty much certain he’d never blushed in his whole life, yet Matt could feel his cheeks burning. He was lost for words, too, because his mouth opened but not one excuse, lame or otherwise, followed. A wide, loopy grin then almost cracked Stanford’s face in half. He’d obviously put two and two together and made four. What he was embarrassed for, Matt didn’t have a clue, but his cheeks burned hotter. Perhaps it might be a good idea to splash some cold water on his face. “Get them in,” he said to Darcy, handing her a twenty from his wallet. “I just need the john.”

  She smiled and looked pointedly at his groin. “Cocktail?” she asked, seductively emphasizing the “cock” part, and making his swell and tent his pants.

  “As long as it’s got whiskey in it, yeah, why not.”

  Matt hurried into the men’s room. Fortunately, it was empty. At the sink, he splashed cold water onto his flushed face and then patted it dry with a paper towel. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. The water seemed to have done the trick. He no longer had cheeks the color of sun-ripened tomatoes. He shook his head. It was a good thing his brother wasn’t here to witness this. Ross would never let him forget it.

  After a final check in the mirror, Matt left the restroom to rejoin Darcy. His hard cock that had tented his pants instantly wilted. At the bar, and standing a little bit too close for his liking, Mark Raven was talking to Darcy. Then with a loud, lewd laugh, Raven ran a finger down Darcy’s bare arm. Like the flick of a switch his volcanic temper erupted. Wasn’t it bad enough that Raven had had his bastard hands all over his beloved, innocent sister, Sammy?

  Matt stormed over. “Get your fucking hands off her, Raven!”

  Darcy’s mouth fell open with disbelief, while Raven glared. “We were only talking,” he sneered. “No law in that.”

  “There is where you’re involved,” Matt responded with a scowl. “You can’t take no for an answer. Sammy said no. But like the dirty bastard you are, you ignored her and you hurt her.”

  Darcy’s mouth dropped open a little more. “You’re Mark Raven?”

  Raven flashed a megawatt smile at Darcy. “That’s me, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me. You’re scum. Attacking women—”

  “Hey, now hold on—” Raven interrupted but didn’t get to finish his sentence because Darcy suddenly whacked him on the nose with a punch that could be heard over the music.

  “Scum!”

  Matt choked back his laugh yet couldn’t suppress a smile. His smile, however, vanished a second later.

  “I want her arrested for assault!” Raven shouted, wiping a drop of blood from his nose.

  “Assault?” Matt said in the coolest, calmest tone he could muster. “What assault? I didn’t see anything.”

  Raven poked a stern finger in Matt’s direction. “You either arrest her or I’ll phone the station in Butte and have one of their officers come out and do it. And I’ll report you while I’m at it for not doing your job.” He obviously thought Matt was on duty.

  Raven was a jerk, but knowing he was serious, Matt had no choice but to arrest and Miranda a stunned-looking Darcy.

  “Cuff her!”

  For once, Matt couldn’t see a problem with what the jerk wanted. Thanks to Raven, their hot fuck was now going to be off the temperature gauge. They would just have to swap his bed for a bunk in the cells. He was certain Darcy wouldn’t mind. He didn’t. Besides, in the right mood, he’d never had a woman turn down an offer of role-play before.

  “Sleep on it. But if you’re still serious in going through with this, then come to the station in the morning, and I’ll take your statement,” he said to Raven. Then to Stanford who had joined them to see what all the drama was about, “Get him a drink. On me.”

  Matt then escorted a still stunned-looking Darcy from Rustlers.

  Chapter 6

  Matt tried his damnedest to keep a straight face when he escorted Darcy into the police station. His cock was that big and hard what with all the horny ideas congregating in his head, he was also surprised he could walk straight. Darcy, with all her mutterings of annoyance, seemingly hadn’t noticed, though.

  An officer from Butte was supposed to be manning the station, but a note taped to the door told him Officer Tungate had been called to a traffic accident on Interstate 15, and for anybody wanting the police to call 9-1-1 if it were an emergency or the Butte-Silver Bow Law Enforcement
Department in Butte on the number given if it weren’t.

  Tossing his hat onto the coat pegs, Matt sat behind his desk and gestured for Darcy to stand before him. “I don’t think you need to wear these anymore.” Leaning forward, he removed the cuffs from her wrists and placed them back onto his equipment belt.

  “I didn’t think I needed to wear them in the first place.” She grimaced and rubbed her wrists. “I can’t believe that scum Raven insisted that I be cuffed. What a jerk!”

  Removing a strong paper property bag from his desk drawer, Matt stifled his laughter and put on his best poker face. “Miss Forbes, if you could please empty your pockets and place any possessions you have onto the desk. I will make a note of them and put them into a property bag.”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “You what? Empty my pockets? What on earth for?”

  “Because you have been arrested for assault.” He had to turn around and retrieve the property record book from the metal filing cabinet behind him to stop himself bursting into laughter at Darcy’s stunned expression. “Possessions on the desk, please.” Now he had to chew on the pen while she emptied her pockets, mumbling with disgust. “Let’s see,” he said, holding up and opening the first item. “One wallet containing—”

  “One hundred thirty-six dollars and about seventy cents,” Darcy interrupted him. “Matt, stop joshing me.”

  “It’s Officer Anderson. And do I look like I’m joshing you?” He recorded the details in the book, popped the wallet into the property bag and picked up the next item. “One lipstick. Color hot-pink,” he added, trying his damnedest to remain serious. “One brass room key for the Slumberland Hotel.”

  “Yeah, Mr. Harrison wasn’t there when I left this evening. I would have given it to him for safekeeping.”

  “And one set of Jeep keys.” He rattled off her license plate from memory.

  Darcy shook her head in apparent disbelief, her words confirming it. “I don’t believe this.”

  Matt gestured to the ever-present tan purse. “And the purse.” She hesitated a second before handing it over. It was his turn then to express surprise at what he found inside. The silver gun-shaped charm dangling from the zipper was certainly fitting. Though small in size, the black-handled gun would still give someone a nasty shock when fired. But why was Darcy carrying a gun? Who was she afraid of?

  “It’s for protection,” she said, answering his mental questions. “From Kurt. I do have a concealed weapons permit. It’s in my Jeep’s glove box.”

  “Okay.” Matt had no idea why he said that because it wasn’t “okay” at all. Shit! Darcy carried a gun to protect herself from her ex. He definitely needed to know the full story with Kurt Forrester. Questions needed to be asked. He decided, however, to save them for later. Darcy was safe with him. He dropped the gun and the purse into the property bag.

  Darcy removed a thin, sparkly, red elastic band from her skirt pocket. Before her hands reached up to her hair, Matt suddenly stuck out a hand and stopped her, making the item drop onto his desk. He knew it was a hair band, of course, but to push his role-playing further, he barked, “What’s that?”

  Her eyes widened. “It’s a hair band, for Christ’s sake! What, you think I’m gonna use it to commit suicide? Wrap it around the cell bars and hang myself?”

  “Stranger things have happened,” he told her as he placed the hair band inside the property bag. He couldn’t hold his smile back any longer and heard her breathe a big and long sigh of relief.

  “Matt! I could whack you. You really had me going there, making me think I was—”

  Matt forced himself to quit grinning and adopted his poker face once more. “Miss Forbes,” he interjected, “threatening a police officer is also an offense. So unless you want another conviction on your rap sheet, I would advise that you keep your mouth buttoned.”

  With a flourish, he sealed the property bag and rose to his feet. Thankfully his cock had softened, so his game plan wasn’t ruined. He indicated a door at the far end of the room. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your cell. I’m afraid you’ll be staying the night. Officer Jezebel Sucre isn’t on duty until the morning. And obviously with me being a man, it wouldn’t be right for me to conduct the search of you.”

  With Darcy behind him, unable to see his expression, Matt allowed a fleeting grin. Let the wicked games begin!

  * * * *

  As Darcy followed Matt to the cells, she wondered where the cocky, good-humored Matt had disappeared to. The Matt who unlocked one of the cell doors and stepped aside for her to enter was a hard-faced cop. And shit, he was serious, she really was under arrest! Fuck it all to hell. How had that happened? Oh, yeah, that’s right. She’d punched a scumbag named Mark Raven on the nose.

  She needed to get herself out of this mess and fast. Maybe she could appeal to Matt’s empathetic nature. Raven certainly didn’t rank high—Whoa, just hang on a cotton-picking second…For the first time, she noticed Matt’s lips were constantly twitching and there was a mischievous twinkle in his sky-blue eyes.

  Realization swiftly dawned. He was playing a game with her, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a very wicked game that would end with a hot fuck. “What kind of search?” she asked, innocent as a virgin, keeping her face as straight as Matt had.

  “A search for concealed weapons.”

  Darcy choked on a laugh. She was going to like this game. She swept an indifferent hand down her tank tops and short denim skirt. “As you can see I’m not wearing much. So just get it over and done with.”

  “Go over and face the wall. Put your hands at head height and spread your legs to shoulder width.”

  She did as Matt instructed, her whole body instantly coming alive with shameless arousal when he moved in behind her. He first patted the sides of her layered tanks before dipping his fingers under the cotton material and brushing his thumbs across her already hard nipples. Molten desire raced through her and pooled in her pussy. Oh, she definitely liked this game.

  He shifted downward onto his knees, patting down her skirt with his hands and then teasing the skin at the back of her thighs with his fingers. Her pussy clenched and squeezed juice at the contact. He rose again to stand behind her, his mouth close to her ear, his breath hot and raspy.

  “Turn around, Miss Forbes.”

  Again, Darcy did as Matt instructed. With the vehement emotions flickering within his sky-blue eyes, she knew he was enjoying the game as much as she was. He leaned in closer, and his mouth claimed hers in such a smoldering kiss she really had to fight the urge to forget about the game and get straight to the hot fuck. Just as she was losing the battle, he drew back.

  “Miss Forbes, your tongue is a concealed weapon. I’ll have to do a strip search. Take your clothes off, but keep your heels on.”

  His hunger-filled gaze never wavered from hers as she pulled the tank tops over her head and then dropped the skirt and a pair of black panties to the floor. She stepped out of them, and Matt kicked them away. For a minute, they just stared each other in the eye, then she planted her hands on her hips, and his gaze dropped.

  Darcy had hoped Matt would survey her slick and waxed pussy. Unfortunately, his eyes didn’t reach their target, instead lingering on the scar running under her right breast. He lightly traced the puckered ridge with his forefinger. Concern flickered in his hunger-filled stare.

  “This looks like a knife wound.”

  She nodded. “It is. Kurt stabbed me. I don’t want to discuss it now.”

  Matt bent and bestowed soft kisses along the scar line. “You can trust me, Darcy. I would never hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  He returned her smile and then fixed his hungry attention on her pussy. “You’ll be amazed what weapons can be concealed in one’s openings, Miss Forbes. Turn around again and bend over, please.”

  Darcy did as requested, putting her yoga exercises to good effect by dropping her head between her spread knees and holding the backs of her calves. With the po
sition, she knew she’d given Matt a very nice view of lush pussy lips already glistening with creamy juice. She heard his low groan, and she felt a little shiver run up deep inside her pussy when he pressed a long, thick finger along the seam of her ass.

  “Hmm, I don’t see anything. However, to be on the safe side, I think a more thorough examination is needed. Please lay on your back on the bunk, Miss Forbes.”

  Trembling with want, her body hot and feverish, Darcy lay flat on the bunk and spread her legs wide, showing Matt her dripping wet pussy was ready for everything. Her ass, too, if that’s what he wanted.

  * * * *

  Once Darcy was on the bunk, legs spread wide in invitation, Matt lay on his side next to her, his arm propped up, his other hand going straight to the target of his examination. He stared deep into her eyes, watching the pupils dilating while he speared his fingers in and out of her, easing them through the hot, wet folds of her pussy, rubbing, caressing, and stroking her.

  After a while, and despite the reactions she exhibited, it struck him it didn’t look as though she was really enjoying what he was doing. He bent his head and enclosed his mouth over one of the mocha-colored nipples. A long, hard pull produced a long and breathy “yes.” Okay, so he was still turning her on in one way. Hmm, perhaps he should ask her what she liked.

  He withdrew his fingers. They were slick with juice. “Miss Forbes, I’m now going to conduct an interview with you. I want you to answer my questions as openly and as honestly as you can. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Officer Anderson. Will you read me my rights?”

  Matt grinned at Darcy’s request. He recited his version of the Miranda. “You have the right to scream and beg for my cock. Do you understand?”

  Darcy laughed. “Yes.”

  “Anything you scream may be used to induce more cock. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have the right to consult an attorney before being fucked by me and to have an attorney present during further fucks now or in the future. Do you understand?” He inwardly frowned at the last part. He didn’t like the thought of a third party watching him fuck.