by Tessa Bailey
Making my own rules in place of the ones I’m abandoning is giving me an anchor, too. One I need. Because I wasn’t lying when I said Danika wrecks me. She’s already doing it. Every time she whimpers or curls her fingers in the collar of my uniform, I fight a battle not to throw her down on the seat and take my release as fast as possible. My growing obsession with seeing to her needs is the only thing stopping me.
“Lift up your shirt,” I growl into the hollow of her throat.
Her nod is dazed, but eager, although she casts a look over her shoulder through the windshield. “What if we get caught?”
Without a formal command from my brain, my teeth snap together, and I deliver a rough slap to her bottom. “Then you’ll hide your pretty face in my neck while I show them my badge. And when they leave, you’ll keep fucking moving. You want to break the rules, baby? Let’s break them.” Christ, there’s lightning singing in my veins, her shallow breaths making me even hotter. Hungrier. “Once I’m inside you, that’s where I’m staying. God himself couldn’t drag me off. Are we clear?”
“Okay. Yes.” Her brown eyes are half-hidden by heavy lids, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she lifts her T-shirt. That lacy white bra is revealed and the purity of it makes me feel even more debauched. A man who can’t keep his lust contained long enough for a girl to graduate. God, I never had a chance. She leaves the material bunched at her throat, watching me and waiting for what comes next. God, this is what it’s like to have total control with none of the fear of failure. Danika has witnessed me losing my shit, my restraint, and still accepts me. More than accepts me. She trusts me enough to explore the corresponding part of herself that lets me be in command.
“You’re beautiful. You know that?” I slide my hands around from her ass, lifting and closing them around her breasts. “Dressed in the same uniform as everyone else and I have to concentrate on not staring at you. Hours of it, Danika. For months. So take your tits out and let me see them. I’m tired of suffering.”
She blinks at me, then begins fumbling with the front snap of her bra. Her hands are shaking, her trim stomach shuddering in and out, but she finally parts the lace and shows off two firm breasts. The kind a man dreams about. The kind I’ve been dreaming about. They’re on the small side and apparently that’s just what I love, because the line around my restraint blurs along with my vision. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m whipping her shirt the rest of the way off and dragging her bra down her arms.
“Damn.” Lust surges when I see Danika completely topless for the first time, and I wish fleetingly we were in a bed, so I could lay her down and lick every inch of her. But right now, I’m in fucking pain, my cock fighting to get free of my pants. I’ve never been this keyed up in my life, and she’s right there with me, gazing at my mouth like it holds the secret to life. “You think you can stand to take your hot pussy off me long enough to unzip my pants?”
“M-maybe,” she moans, giving in and writhing on my lap, earning her ass a slap. “Yes.”
I’m not sure if she scrapes her fingernails down my chest and belly on purpose, but the rough, honest sensation of it rears my head back and rips a curse from my throat. Trying to preserve my sanity, I lift her by the waist and slide her back on my thighs. More of that smooth touch on my stomach has me panting, and when she reaches my belt, I watch her through a haze, growing more starved by the moment. Want. Need. “I like that you’re clumsy taking me out,” I rasp. “Means I’ve got you rattled, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t think straight.” Her exhale catches. “Happy now?”
I drag lazy circles around her nipples with my thumbs, listening to the hitch in her breathing, the jerking of her thighs. “Good girl. That’s how you’ve got me.”
I’m not looking at her handiwork, but the second my zipper lowers, the release of pressure and rush of need between my legs is immense, impossible to ignore now. If I don’t get inside her in the next minute, my fucking world is going to end. We speed to that end together when she wraps me in her hand and strokes my dick for the first time.
“Shit.” Moisture seeps from my tip, hardening my balls even more because there’s light at the end of the tunnel. “Again. Harder.”
“Oh my God.”
Her sob makes me focus on her face, but I have to look away just as fast. “You have to stop looking at it like that or I’ll only make it one pump.”
“Sorry, it’s just . . . I didn’t see it up close in the locker room—”
I cut her off by snagging her wrist, taking it away from my cock. In one quick move she isn’t expecting, I slide one of her thighs over to join the other, then spin her around so she’s facing the front windshield. Jerking her back against my chest, skin to skin, my free hand drags those taunting yoga pants down, down, over her ass to stop at her knees. “Don’t talk about my dick again unless you’re riding it.”
With her pants down and her sweet ass curved into my lap, my hands are free to roam up and knead her breasts. She likes that. I know because her head falls back and lands on my shoulder with a throaty moan. “See? I don’t mind you being bossy when the r-rules benefit me.”
Danika turns her face slightly, our eyes lock, and she gives me a quick lift of her lips. My chest begins to ache, along with my erection, and for a moment, all I can do is stare. Goddammit, she’s so pretty. How is it possible that I’m flying a thousand yards above my own body, but a few words out of her mouth and I’m grounded. What does that mean?
I decide to stop exploring it when she flicks her hips back, grinds back down. Does it again. Does it again. Until my fucking thighs and hands are shaking, my mouth open and growling at her neck. Every ounce of my focus goes into hunting a condom down in my pocket and covering myself, before reaching down between our bodies and guiding my cock to her heat. “Wet girl. Nice wet girl.”
She arches her back and spreads her legs, allowing me to slip myself inside her inch by inch . . . and as she sinks down, I barely recognize the sensation because nothing that came before her compares. Made for me. I’m made just for her. All of the above.
“Oh God,” we both moan at the same time.
How does she feel different from anything in my memory? Because I’ve waited so long? Or maybe it’s the fact that she hasn’t even moved yet and this is already the best fuck of my life by a thousand miles. Both? I don’t know. Whatever the reason, I’m an animal as soon as she’s fully seated, my cock tucked up inside that snug heat. Control? What control?
I tighten my ass muscles and thrust up—
“Greer.”
Pinpricks attack the base of my spine. “Shit, baby. Don’t say my name until I get you closer.”
“Sorry. Sorry.” Again, she throws her head back on my shoulder and moans. “Oh my God. You feel so good.”
“Me?” I draw back and push home again. “Any tighter and you’re going to cut off my fucking circulation.”
Her muscles clench around me, her body rolling and twisting in the sexiest move I’ve ever witnessed. It thrusts her tits up and exposes her smooth neck. “I’ll do anything you want.”
My chest begins to heave, my groin so full and heavy I’m almost dizzy. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” I begin jerking her hips back so she can stroke me tight and fast. By the second slide of my cock into her heat, we have a rhythm, and God fucking damn, it’s incredible.
My teeth are on edge to keep from shouting. She leans forward and props her hands on my knees, giving her enough balance to ruin me with little up and down bounces of her hips. Every strike of her ass on my thighs vibrates the taut flesh, making it impossible to keep my hands off. So I grip her there, guiding her up and down on my stiff arousal. It’s everything I can do not to grind her down hard and give her my come, but I won’t. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow so I’m savoring her tonight.
The very idea of being separated from Danika sparks a denial in my head. Makes possessing her even more about now, now, now. “Tell me about what you’re r
iding now.” My hand gives her right ass cheek another slap, then slides around to tease her clit. “You like my cock up close, baby? You like it deep?”
Her pattern is staggered now, her little whimpers filling the car, filling my head and chest. “Yes, I love it. I love it . . . but your fingers, too . . . I’m not . . . I can’t wait . . .”
I keep stroking her clit with one hand, but lift the other to her throat, circling it and urging her back against my chest. Fuck, the show she puts on from this vantage point fires me toward release like a bullet. Her slick body is highlighted by the distant streetlamp, shadows playing over her curves as she lifts and grinds, lifts and grinds. Her hips are my new best friend, twisting and scooting back, just enough to slip her pussy down to my base, squeeze, then ease back up to the tip. She’s magic. There’s no doubt in my mind. “That cock belongs to a man, Danika.” I apply more pressure to her neck. Enough to make her suck in an excited breath, her body moving faster, my fingers blurring on her clit. “No more boys for you.”
On my shoulder, she shakes her head no. “Greer, oh, I’m going to—” She breaks off on a closed mouth scream, her thighs trembling around my hand. “Greer.”
I think I can hold it together long enough to give her another orgasm, but as soon as her pussy cinches around my dick like a belt, I know resisting the rush of pleasure is a pipe dream. “Goddammit, baby. Ripping it right out of me, aren’t you?” There’s a scraping feeling deep in my belly, then I’m shouting into her hair as the most phenomenal relief grips me. I’m coming inside her. Finally. Finally. It hurts, but it’s happening . . . and then it doesn’t hurt anymore, because the worst of the lust is leaving me, shooting up the stalk of my flesh. “You’re killing me. Don’t stop. Move. Move. Don’t stop.”
My body continues to ram up, up into her snug, clenching cunt until my fucking vision goes black. Mine. The word echoes in my head, but my teeth snap down on my lower lip to keep from saying it out loud.
When she falls back like a puppet with severed strings, I’ve gone boneless, too. Throughout my life, when I’ve given in to my needs and had sex, I’ve disconnected immediately afterward. Or maybe I never connected at all. This is vastly different. The sound of our shallow breaths in the car, the way her slight body heaves on my lap . . . the way my hand strokes up and down her forearm without any prompting. It’s new.
It’s scary how good it feels.
And when something feels this incredible, the pain of having it taken away would be even greater. My eyes close and I see things I don’t want to see. Visions from this evening, from that afternoon so long ago. Christ, even the call I received mere days ago that Danika was a bystander at a robbery plays in my brain, reminding me why I don’t form attachments to people. Why can’t I follow my own rules with this girl?
I realize I’ve been quiet too long when Danika sits up and scoots off my lap. Without looking at me, she lifts her butt and pulls her pants back up. Reaches for her shirt and bra, beginning to don them. Watching her closely, I find a hand sanitizer wipe to wrap up the condom and zip myself back up. What do I say here? Please can we do this again? I got shot earlier and you still managed to make this the best night of my life? All of those things will lead to a commitment. One she deserves. But I can’t give her that. I’m already in too deep.
When she sends me a sweeping look over her squared shoulder and begins to exit the car, I panic, though. Despite everything, I can’t let her think it meant nothing.
My arm shoots out and wraps around her middle. A heavy beat of time passes as I draw her back against my chest, my heart booming like a cannon in my rib cage. “You’re going to give me a kiss.”
“It’s over.” She’s back to being a smart-ass, but I know it’s staged. Of course I do, with my cheek pressed to the racing pulse in her neck. “You’re not in charge anymore.”
“You want me to say please?”
She hesitates, but her flushed face turns, bringing our lips inches apart. “Yes.”
“Kiss me, please.”
Her tongue skates along her upper lip. “No.”
“No?”
Brown eyes study me and I know that look. I’ve instructed her for months, so I know she’s solving a problem or making a decision. Damn if I know what it is, though, so I stop breathing and wait. “If you want a kiss, find a way to see me again and get it.”
With that, she climbs out of the car and closes herself in the front passenger seat. I sit there stunned for a full ten seconds before I move on autopilot to the driver’s side, starting the car.
Five minutes later, when I drop her off outside her apartment building, she winks at me before climbing out of the car. No goodbye, no nothing. Still, by the time I reach the end of the block, I’m smiling. If I’m not mistaken, I’ve just had every rule in my book thrown in my face. I’ve been challenged. And I have no idea how to feel about it, but I know this.
I respect the hell out of this girl, she terrifies me . . .
And I’m now fucking obsessed with getting that kiss.
Chapter 18
Danika
Let it never be said that Danika Silva backs down from a challenge, huh?
It’s Thursday evening—exactly twenty-four hours since my public sex-capades—and I’m dressed in my pajamas, hair wet from my shower. I’m on the edge of my bed with the door closed, muffled sounds from the television reaching me through the door. I’m flipping my cell phone up and down in my hand, working up the nerve to check in with the lieutenant. A.k.a. Greer. A.k.a. the Grim Reaper. A.k.a. the Orgasm Donor.
Underneath my nightshirt, goose bumps lift on every inch of my skin. God, I’ve been like this all day. As if I’m sharing a filthy secret with my panties. But I can’t give in and do another mental replay of the backseat boogie, because I need to focus on the upcoming phone call. Not to mention, the gauntlet I threw down last night.
The lieutenant made the mistake of opening up to me about his ex-partner, about the fact that the job is getting to him, and now he’s not just my instructor. Not just the badass with bazooka biceps and a scowl. He’s real. He’s a man who hesitates to fire on someone even though they’re drawing a gun. He’s a man who buys me stamps, mourns the loss of his friend, leads a book club and runs interference for my cousin with the department.
All these things have doubled my attraction to him.
And quadrupled my chances of getting hurt.
But there’s something inside me that won’t let Greer push me away. It would be the easy way out, wouldn’t it? Sure, we could have a few more accidents where I trip and find myself impaled on his lap. We’d go our separate ways afterwards and call it a slipup.
Here’s the thing, though. I don’t want to do that. What we did under the rumbling shadow of the FDR Drive felt like the furthest thing from an accident. And I’m not going to pretend Greer is a waste of my time. He’s not. The guy who bought me stamps, commended me in front of my parents and avoided taking a suspect’s life at the risk of his own? If I don’t try and convince him the world won’t end if he’s happy, I’ll regret it.
Greer didn’t sign on for more of me, but I can’t shake the feeling he wants more. Even if he’s afraid to admit it.
Flipping the phone one more time for good measure, I finally give in and hit call on the lieutenant’s number, burying a nervous squeal in my throat. This is the guy I got naked for last night, and I totally, totally got the last word. Why am I nervous? Ahhhh.
One ring. “I am calm. I am cool. I am woman, hear me roar—”
“Good to know.”
My heart shoots into my throat. When did he answer? “Come on. Don’t you say hello?”
“My caller ID told me who it was.”
I can gauge exactly nothing by his tone of voice. In the background, there’s a lot of scraping chairs and crackling radios, so I know he’s at the precinct. Not like he’d be baby talking me through the phone if he was somewhere more private. This is Greer we’re talking about. Keeper of frowns a
nd blower of piercing whistles. “I’m just checking in.”
Silence passes. “How . . . are you?”
Oh my God, the way he asks the question. Like his mouth is right up against my ear and he’s clearly, clearly asking about the state of my vagina, right? “It’s fine,” I breathe. Shit, he was asking about my vagina, right? I slap a hand over my eyes. “How has your day been?”
“A lot of meetings and paperwork. I discharged my weapon yesterday,” he reminds me, like I could forget it for a single second.
“I know. I was there.” I press my lips together and puff a laugh. “Both times.”
“Jesus, Danika,” he chokes out and it’s priceless. It takes him a moment to speak again, and when he does, his voice is lower. It feels like he’s sitting beside me. “The man I shot is under psych evaluation, but he’s going to be fine.”
The way he says it tells me he was worried. Knowing Greer was concerned for someone who tried to put a bullet in his chest makes me that much more positive he’s got more to give. Maybe to me? “Did you go to see him?” I ask, my hand climbing my throat.
“Not inside the room, just to the desk.” A pause. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”
Really? This man who can cut to the center of a recruit’s bullshit from fifty yards away? “I’m sure they told him you were there. That’s more than most cops would do after he fired on them.” My fierce need to go find him and wrap him in a hug forces me to take a long, slow breath away from the receiver. “If you want to go into the room next time, I can . . . come with you.”