Menace

by Laramie Briscoe

  “Hey Mason, didn’t think you were really into dating.” She gives me the evil eye.

  “No, never said that,” I correct her assumption, hating that I’m about to be a bit of a dick, but I don’t want this woman to ruin what will be a great time between me and Karina. “I was just never into dating you.”

  Karina coughs, and I suspect it’s hiding a laugh. Another glare is shot our way as we’re taken to a booth in the back. Our menus are slapped on the table, before she turns, flinging her hair at us.

  “Sorry about that.” My face is red, hot with embarrassment, and I wonder how in the hell I forgot she worked here.

  “It’s okay, you’ve obviously been a hot cop and smoking single dad for a while, and I’m sure there are more women out there who wanted more time than you were willing to give.”

  She has a seat in the booth and I squeeze in next to her. I’m a same-side sitter with the person who has my attention, so I hope she’s okay with me being handsy when the feeling strikes.

  “You, I’m willing to give all my time to.” I use my hand to push some of her curls over her shoulder. A smirk spreads across her face, and she scoots a little closer. “Some of these women, though, the minute I hit town, they were lined up.” I run a hand through my hair as our waiter comes over.

  He’s a friend of Caleb’s and I’m glad to see a friendly face.

  “Mr. Harrison, Ms. Holland, how’s it going?” He puts some chips in front of us and the cheese sauce I like.

  “Good, Brad, how’s it going with you?”

  “School, training, work, repeat. Probably the same thing going on with Caleb.”

  Casually, I situate myself back against the booth, spreading my legs to give me room to kick them out before I curl my hand around Karina’s neck. “Pretty much, at least I know you’ll be in Tuscaloosa with him in the summer.”’

  Brad nods before he takes our drink orders and disappears.

  Karina leans into me. “Tell me why it’s so embarrassing for a student to see me on a date.”

  “You have Brad in class?”

  She nods, snickering. “At some point I have all the seniors in my class.”

  Brad delivers a pitcher of margaritas to her with a flourish and a Sprite for me. “Here ya go, Ms. Holland. Y’all ready to order?”

  She opts for a taco salad while I get nachos that are bigger than my head. When he leaves, I watch her cautiously sip it.

  “Careful, from what I’ve heard, those are strong,” I warn her; secretly hoping it loosens her up. Not that she needs it, but I can tell she’s a little nervous because a student has seen her.

  “Trust me, I can hold my liquor.”

  Looking down at her, I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. She’s cute as hell in her indignation. “Whatever you say.”

  “What’s your call sign?” She asks out of nowhere. “I know you told the class, but I can’t remember. I was too busy looking at your ass in your pants.”

  “Menace.”

  “Ooh big, bad, dangerous. It makes you sound like you can fuck shit up.”

  I laugh loudly as I reach forward, grabbing a chip and dipping it in the cheese sauce. “I am bad and dangerous, I do fuck shit up. You’re right on all accounts.”

  “Modest, too.” Her tone is sarcastic and playful as she takes another drink.

  Chewing around the bite I’ve taken, I nod. “I mean I’ve been modest the last fourteen years, why shouldn’t I give you all the impressive parts of me?”

  She cuts her eyes my way. “Pretty sure I got to feel the most impressive part of you.”

  Coughing loudly as the chip goes down the wrong way, I struggle to get under control before turning in the seat and facing her. “Not what I expected to come out of your mouth.”

  “There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Menace, just like there’s a lot about you I don’t know. We’re gonna have a good time getting there with each other.”

  “That we will.” I lean forward, grabbing another chip and dipping it in the cheese dip. This time though, I hold it up to her lips and wait for her to take a bite. When she does, she makes a huge production of circling her tongue around my finger. I try but fail to hold back the groan that rips its way past my throat. “How are we going to do that? Get to know each other better?”

  She situates herself in the seat, leaning a little closer to me. My eyes immediately go to the dark color of her lipstick or whatever it is. I can’t wait to smear my lips across hers, see if I can disturb the harsh outline. “I don’t know about you, but when I want to know something, I ask.”

  Immediately my mind goes to the questions she could ask. I’m not used to sharing my life, and if I’m honest, I haven’t wanted to share my life with anyone before. This is a first for me, but it feels like a new beginning at the same time. This is the kind of relationship I should have had in my early twenties, but never got the chance to.

  “Like twenty questions?” I don’t know if we know each other that well yet.

  She shrugs her shoulder, one of her curls brushing against my arm. I’m hyperaware of everything about her. “Or something like that. If it’s a question we don’t want to answer, we’re allowed to pass. How’s that sound?”

  “Why the fuck not. You go first?” I give her the option. If I was taught anything, it’s that ladies come first.

  She twirls her straw in her glass, and I can feel her leg kicking beneath the table. Risking a glance, I see that she’s crossed her legs, and there’s something arousing about the way she’s crossed them toward me. “How long have you lived here, and why Laurel Springs?”

  Taking a drink and another chip, I start into the story about why we came here. Truth be told I haven’t thought about it in a long time, so it’s kind of odd to talk about it with another person. “I was working in a small sheriff’s office in Texas, but I really wanted to put the training I got in the military to use. This place was small as hell; they didn’t even have a damn SWAT team. There’s places for law enforcement to apply for jobs, just like I’m sure there are for teachers. I applied everywhere I could. Laurel Springs was the first one to offer what I wanted, so Caleb and I packed up and moved here. We’ve been here for a number of years now, and I can honestly say I see myself retiring from here, unless something huge changes. I love the area, love the job, and love the people.” I twist part of her hair around my index finger, pulling slightly. “What about you?”

  She takes a healthy drink of her margarita before pouring another round. She blows out a breath in between her perfectly matte lips and puts her arms on the table before she lifts her head to look at me. “It’s like some horrible country song.” She snorts. “My fiancé and my best friend were fucking each other behind my back. I found out days before the wedding. Actually caught them doing it in the house I paid for. When I caught them, something inside me snapped. I kicked him out, kicked her out, cut off all my hair, and pawned my engagement ring. Within the week, I’d put the house on the market and had a job here. My family told me I was crazy to pick up everything and move south like I did, but honestly, I couldn’t stand being around my ex-fiancé and ex-best friend anymore. When I saw either one of them, I got sick to my stomach. Couldn’t stand to be in that house and was ready for a change. My family still asks me every time I talk to them when I’m coming home, but after almost two years, Laurel Springs feels more like home than Philly ever did.”

  She’s quiet for a few minutes before she glances over, smiling at me. Her eyes are glassy and I think maybe she doesn’t hold her liquor as well as she thinks. Karina Holland drunk and naked in the back of my Jeep would be fun, in my bed would be even more fun, but I don’t want to press my luck and make any kind of plans before I know how the night is going to go.

  “I’m glad you grew your hair back.”

  “So am I,” she whispers. “I like when you grab hold of it.”

  This woman and this mouth of hers.

  “Time for my question. Exactly how o
ld are you, Karina Holland?”

  She picks up her glass, puckering her mouth around her straw as she looks up at me from beneath hooded eyes. The motion is complete sex kitten, and I wonder if this woman knows how fucking hot she is.

  “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age.”

  I pull her closer with the arm around her neck. “Not when I’ve fucked her and plan on fucking her again. As an officer of the law, it’s probably a smart thing for me to know.”

  “When you put it that way…” she trails off, putting her hand on my thigh below the table. Her nails dig slightly into the denim covering them, and in that moment I want to forget the dinner and the date. There’s one thing we do well, and I’m ready to do it again with her as soon as possible. “I’m twenty-seven.”

  “Does it bother you that my son is nine years younger than you?” That had been a problem with one of the few women I had considered exploring things further with in the past. She couldn’t get over the fact that Caleb was so close to her age, and like I’d told Karina before, we’re a package deal. I can’t be with someone who can’t love Caleb at least a fraction of the way I do. If anyone deserves it, it’s him.

  “Does it bother you?” She turns it around on me. “Because it doesn’t bother me. What would bother me is if you didn’t pay attention to him, if you weren’t a good dad, and if you raised him to be a brat. He’s a good kid Mason, even though he had his issues. You should be proud of what you’ve done with him. There are kids in his class with a ton of money and two parents that are holy terrors.”

  The praise warms me like nothing else has. “Thank you.” I lower my head, kissing her on the cheek. “It means a lot that you say that.”

  “I say what I mean, Mason. You’re raised a good son, and you should be proud.”

  When our food comes, I’m thankful for the reprieve in our conversation because the words she spoke hit a spot in me I wasn’t sure any woman could ever touch. After Maggie, I’d held it closed, hidden it away. Luckily for me, this woman found it, and I don’t think I’m ever going to ask her to give it back.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Karina

  Watching Mason drive has jumped to the top of my favorite things in the world list. There’s something about watching his big hands rest on the steering wheel, his long fingers wrap around the cylindrical shape, and the way his forearms flex as he easily maneuvers through the streets of Laurel Springs.

  “You okay?” His shit-eating grin is proof he knows exactly what I was looking at.

  At dinner, I had a few margaritas, and I might possibly be replaying every second of what happened in the backseat of this Jeep the last time we were together. Crossing my legs to ease the ache between them, I let my gaze meet his. “Fine.” The word is breathless and husky, even to my own ears. I sound like I should be on the other end of one of those sex-operator phone lines.

  “You sure? A little tipsy?”

  Maybe I am, slightly. He hadn’t been lying when he told me those drinks were potent. “Mmmm.” I make a non-committal sound in the back of my throat.

  When he turns into my driveway, I want to extend the night, just like I did last time. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth as I watch him get out and walk around to my side of the vehicle. The pair of worn jeans are delectable, loose enough to give him room to move, but tight enough so that I can see what he’s packing underneath. The t-shirt he’s pulled over his body tonight is just enough for me to see the smooth stomach lying just beneath. His hair? Tousled, but not as messed up as it would be if he’d give me half the chance to run my fingers through it. As he approaches and opens the passenger side door for me, I’ve gotten myself so worked up I can’t stop the words that fly out of my mouth.

  “The tattoo on your forearm has been turning me on all night.”

  There’s a sharp intake of breath when he hears what I’ve said. His arms go up, gripping the doorframe, and those forearms of his flex in the muted light of the night. Here there’s light given off by stars and the moon, and that glow makes him look like a dream come true. Given a moment, I quickly unbuckle my seatbelt. Faster than I’ve ever moved, I turn, open my thighs so he can stand in between them, and attack the man in front of me.

  Sliding my hands along his waist, I push my fingers up under the t-shirt, welcoming the feel of his hot skin against the coolness of the night. Leaning up, I capture him in a kiss. Soft at first, we nip at each other’s lips, before I hook my legs around him, pulling him into me. My hands travel up his back, still under his shirt, before I slide my nails down the smooth skin.

  The kiss deepens, his tongue tangles with mine as we strain against each other. I’m feeling lightheaded as I realize I can’t breathe, because he’s literally kissed the breath from my body. Ripping my lips from his, I drag a breath into my lungs before I hone in on the pulse at the side of his neck, going to work on that stretch of skin. The deep moan in return causes a reaction I feel from the hard nipples thrusting against my bra to the pulsing I feel between my legs.

  “Rina, fuck, we can’t do this out here, and I have to be at work early,” he pants as he tilts his head back, giving me more room to work.

  “Rina?” I whisper, a question as to what the nickname means to him. It feels as if we’re turning a corner.

  “Yeah, my Rina. Is that okay?”

  He’s asking me if it’s okay to give me a hot as fuck nickname while he’s literally blowing my mind? “Perfection, big guy. Absolute perfection.”

  Opening my eyes, I pull away from him, taking in the picture he makes. His arms are up, gripping the doorframe of the Jeep where I sit, his forearms are straining, almost as if he’s afraid to touch me. Beneath the t-shirt, I see his own nipples hard, begging for my touch. His stomach tenses and relaxes, tenses and relaxes as he tries to control the intake of air. Further down, I see his erection straining against the denim. Without thinking, I pull my hands from around his waist, fumbling them down to grasp his hard length.

  “Fuckin’ shit, Rina.” He pulls out of my embrace.

  As his heat leaves me, I take a look around. We’re in the driveway of my home. I’m a teacher; he’s a respected cop in our town. He’s right. We need to rein this in and do it fast.

  I take a cleansing inhale. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be sorry.” He cups my jaw with both hands, pushing his fingers up under my hair, forcing my gaze to meet his. “Don’t ever be sorry for going after what you want. This–,” he looks around, “–just isn’t the right time or place.”

  “You’re right.” I lick my lips, tasting the flavor of his kisses on them.

  “Goddamn, don’t do that.” His voice is tortured, tone guttural.

  A feminine giggle escapes my throat. “I’m sorry.”

  He crowds against me, pushing his hardness against me. “You’re not even a little bit.” His grin is as boyish as the one I see Caleb sometimes give.

  “You’re right, not even a little bit.”

  Ducking his head, he gives me a chaste kiss. This time, he doesn’t let it get out of hand, and neither do I. When he pulls away, he whispers an invitation. “Caleb and I are going to the fishing and hunting show in Birmingham on Sunday. Wanna come with us?”

  My heart almost trips in my chest. He’s inviting me to do something with his son and him. A smile spreads across my face. “I’d love to.”

  “Good.” He noses my neck one more time. “When we come pick you up, we’ll fix that porch light that’s out. See you on Sunday?”

  “Sunday.” I nod as I hop out of the Jeep.

  Ever the gentleman, Mason walks me to the door, making sure I’m safe before he turns, going back to his Jeep, and takes off for home. As I watch his taillights in the darkness of the night, I can’t help but put my fingers up to my lips, feeling where his were such a short time ago. Tonight, I might go to bed frustrated, but I’ll go to bed with a huge smile on my face.

  Menace

  “Made you coffee,” Caleb
mumbles as I stumble into the kitchen the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

  “Thanks.” I shuffle over to the coffee pot, thankful he had the forethought to go ahead and get me a cup out. “Shit this is gonna be a long day.” I yawn loudly.

  “Shouldn’t have gone out on a work night.” The sing-song voice of my teenager is enough to piss me off this morning. Honestly, he’s not wrong. “Did you have a good time with Ms. Holland last night?”

  Immediately I’m taken back to us making out in her driveway, where I almost forgot about us being in public and broke a couple laws myself. Never in my life have I been one of those men who thought about saying fuck it to being in public. I’ve always been the type of guy who kept most of my affection behind closed doors. The only person who I’ve even been comfortable hugging in public is my son, but Karina, she’s challenging everything I thought I knew about myself. Even this early in the relationship. I would have given a lot just to pull her out of my Jeep, lie down on the ground, and let her ride me to the best orgasm of our lives. But that wasn’t the way it had worked out, and I’ll never be the type of person to put her in a potentially embarrassing or damaging situation.

  “It was good.” I swallow down a drink of the blessedly hot coffee.

  Caleb squints at me as he takes a drink of his own. “Dude, it was so much better than good, I can tell by looking at you.”

  “I’m your dad, not your dude.” I attempt to put some authority in my voice.

  “Fair enough.” He purses his lips. “But I’m also an adult, so don’t pretend like I’m a little kid.”

  He’s got me there; I’ve always treated him like an equal. Now that I have a woman I’m interested in, I shouldn’t just turn it off and pretend as if he doesn’t understand. “Karina…” I let my voice trail off, because I’m not sure how to describe her, not sure I want to let my son in on the thoughts and feelings I have for her “She makes me feel like I haven’t felt before.”