Iron Soldier

by Katie Ford

  At first, all I wore as we made love was my engagement ring. Trace growled, seeing me nude and flushed, the giant sparkler on my finger.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he growled against my skin, bending to touch the ring with his lips before dipping his head between my thighs and licking me there. I cried out, head tilting back. “Absolutely beautiful,” he finished.

  But we’ve never been vanilla people. Because Trace snapped on a pair of handcuffs next, the gleaming steel holding me tight. And yet, this was right. I belonged to this man every which way and the restraints only made my passion soar. After all, this dominant animal was going to be my gorgeous husband, and I knew he would always make sure I was taken care of.

  “Sweetheart, this way,” he gestured, pulling my pussy over his open mouth. And at the same time, my lips found his cock, loving the hard length in my throat as he lapped my gushing cunt. We weren’t just doing 69; we were devouring each other alive. I loved the way he lightly thrust his cock deeper into my mouth while his mouth went deeper into my wet pussy. He would bite lightly on my clit whenever he came out to take a quick breath. And the hard he suctioned between my legs, the more eager I was for my meal. I began to stroke his cock while I took him deeper into my throat, sucking with 10 Gs of vacuum force.

  By the time I secreted in my fiancé’s face, he was giving me my dessert. Hot sperm pumped into my mouth and I swallowed his delectable gift happily, lapping up every drop around his member.

  Satisfied, I sat up to look at Trace.

  “I’m so glad you came,” I told him, wiping my mouth with the cuffed hands.

  “I’m so glad you said yes,” he replied.

  We kissed each other again, enjoying the salty taste of each other’s mouths.

  “So, when did you know?” I asked him teasingly. “When did you decide you were going to propose?”

  “About a week or so after we moved in together,” he answered.

  “Since then? You’ve been waiting a long time!” I cried in disbelief. “You’ve wanted to propose last year?”

  “Well, yeah. I’m in love with you, Lila.”

  And those words rang true, making my heart stop.

  “I’m in love with you too, Trace.”

  Finally, for the first time since I set foot in Paris, I was truly happy. I had the city lights illuminating my room, a nice wind blowing through the window, and the man I’d given my heart to here with me. Nothing could’ve made it better.

  But Trace had a question as well.

  “When did you know that you loved me?” he asked.

  “I’m not exactly sure,” was my honest reply. “I just woke up one day, thought about how much I cared about you and how ecstatic I was that you moved back to Miami. One thing led to another, and I knew. What about you?”

  “I knew the day I said we should move in together,” he said.

  My heart had skipped so many beats by this point that I felt like I was flying.

  “This is different than anything else,” Trace said slowly. “I’ve loved before, but not like this. I don’t feel like I can live without you Lila. You’ve totally ensnared me, and I love it. We so should have hooked up in high school.”

  I agreed, nodding.

  “We could’ve had it good for so much longer,” I lamented.

  “But it’s okay,” he said with a grin. “Now, we get to have it good for the rest of our lives.”

  I couldn’t get over all the sweet things he was saying. They shook my heart, warming me to the tips of my toes. I never wanted them to end, and wished that we could’ve stayed in Paris together longer. But soon, we’d be returning to Miami and traveling down a new road that included engagement.

  “Are we going to buy a house in Miami?” I asked curiously, running a light finger down one muscled pec.

  “We can get a house anywhere in the world, darling,” he replied.

  “Oh, and where should we go for our honeymoon?” I giggled.

  “We have to go to Tahiti, no question,” he said firmly. “The beaches are perfect, the food and drink are divine, and the beauty is unparalleled.”

  “You talk like you’ve been to Tahiti! You’re making me really want to go there.”

  “We can go anywhere you’d like,” Trace growled. “I just want to see you wear a grass skirt with nothing else,” he said wickedly, blue eyes flashing. “Husband’s prerogative.”

  And I laughed then, excited for our future. Because this was my man, and I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him. Planting one last kiss on his lips, I snuggled up against that massive frame before closing my eyes for a quick catnap.

  “My fiancé is perfect and divine,” was my sleepy murmur. “I’m the luckiest woman in Paris … and the world.”

  Bad Cop

  ~A Dial-A-Date Forbidden Romance~

  © 2018

  By Cassandra Dee and Kendall Blake

  Want to hear about our newest illicit romance? Addicted to virgins and alpha males? Join our mailing lists at www.subscribepage.com/alphamalesontop and get a FREE book just for joining!

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Bad Cop: A Dial-A-Date Romance Collection

  Some girls cry to get out of traffic tickets.

  But I did something much more fun!

  Marisa’s driving back from a party with a friend when they’re pulled over. The sweet girl’s in big trouble because if she gets arrested, then her parents are taking away her privileges … including college money for next year’s tuition.

  Officer Liam Davies is a ten-year veteran of the force. He takes his job to keep the community safe seriously. But when he sees Marisa’s car weaving on the road one night, all bets are off because the curvy brunette’s exactly his type … and he’s not taking no for an answer!

  Hey Readers – Let’s just say our sassy heroine isn’t just bold, she’s also creative when it comes to getting out of that ticket. :) You can bet the sparks fly! As always, an HEA’s guaranteed for our feisty BBW. xoxo, Cassie and Kendall

  CHAPTER ONE

  Marisa

  “Bobbie, no!” I whisper urgently. “We can’t get into the car with her!”

  My best friend hushes me.

  “Don’t worry,” Bobbie whispers back. “It’s gonna be fine. Jenna took Driver’s Ed last year, and I heard she got a perfect on the written test. It’s going to be fine. The weather’s good, and it’s dark, but there are lots of street lamps.”

  But it wasn’t the lack of lighting that I was afraid of. It was the fact that Jenna, an acquaintance from Honors English, seemed a little tipsy.

  “No,” I hissed again. “I can’t get into the car with her. I won’t. I’ll drive instead.”

  But Bobbie spun on me then.

  “Marisa, you’re the one who’s gotten into three accidents in the last six months. It’s even more dangerous with you behind the wheel. Now, come on!” she scolded, pulling me towards the door where Jenna stood, gathering her keys while saying her goodbyes to a bunch of high school kids. “Let’s go because Cocker Daniels has been pawing me for two hours now, and it’s gross. If we don’t leave now, he’s going to start pawing you too.”

  I swallowed because Bobbie’s words were true. We’d both been fending off Cocker for the last two hours, and in the past fifteen minutes he’s gotten super-pushy. The guy is gross. He thinks that because he’s Cocker Daniels IV, he’s basically god’s gift to women. As if. I don’t care if you’re six foot three and have the body of a god. If you have the kind of red, seeping acne Cocker has on his neck, I’m not touching you with a ten foot pole.

  And lo and behold, Cocker came up to us just as we were putting on our jackets.

  “Yo yo yo,” the teenage boy bellowed. “Where you girls going? This party ain’t over yet.”

  “Oh nowhere,” said Bobbie with a smile, even as she put her hood up. “We’re just stepping outside to um … look at the flowers,” she said. “Um yeah, Marisa’s really into orchids, and Mrs. Davenport has a really great
collection outside.”

  I rolled my eyes. Just because I wanted to study horticulture didn’t mean that I was going to leave a rockin’ party to go outside in the freezing night to look at some greenery. Besides, was Mrs. Davenport actually raising orchids? Who knew?

  Evidently not Cocker because he grinned lasciviously.

  “Yeah, I love flowers,” he said, a little on the drunk side. “Flowers look like a woman’s ….”

  But Bobbie cut him off.

  “See ya!” she sang, grabbing my elbow and pulling me along behind her. “We’ll be right back as soon as we check out the purple ones.”

  The door slammed shut, and both of us let out a relieved sigh.

  I turned to Bobbie.

  “Really, orchids?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “You couldn’t say we were going outside to smoke or something?”

  “Oh you,” retorted Bobbie airily. “Besides, no one’s going to believe you smoke, Marisa. You’re such a good girl that people are surprised when you don’t show up for class.”

  I sighed while following my friend to the car because what Bobbie said was true. Even though we’d just been to a high school party, they aren’t my thing in general. First, because there are the guys like Cocker at these shindigs who are to be avoided at all costs. I hate the wandering hands and leering grins, and I’d rather be safe at home with my favorite romance novel and a cup of tea nearby.

  Second, parties like the one we’d just left overwhelm me. There’s all the people, crowded and jostling within a darkened space. I detest getting beer splashed on myself, not to mention an elbow in the ribs because we’re packed in like sardines. Plus, the fake smoke machine they’d rented made me hack and cough, and I swear, my ears were ringing from listening to hard-core rap at fifty decibels. So instead, my idea of a good time is hanging out at home with a nice book, or maybe spending quality time with some close friends. Sure, it’s not the most exciting way for an eighteen year-old to live her life, but at the same time, I’m happy. Besides, don’t psychologists say that it’s close friendships that lower your cholesterol? I’d much rather spend one-on-one time with my best girl buddies than stand around at a party awkwardly while my eardrums shatter.

  But at least we were leaving now, and Jenna sat behind the wheel of her Accord, her head hidden as she burrowed in her purse for keys.

  “Oh here they are!” she chirped, those blonde curls bouncing as she popped back into vision. “You guys live just a couple blocks away, right?”

  I stared at her closely, but my fears were put to rest when Jenna looked right back at me with an innocent expression. Her eyes were a clear blue and her breath was sweet with no trace of alcohol. So I exhaled heavily and tried to calm down. After all, both Bobbie and I lived close by, so the drive would be short. Ten minutes at a maximum.

  My buddy nodded enthusiastically.

  “Yep, I’m just around thataways, and then Marisa’s house is a little beyond mine. Thanks so much for the ride, Jenna. It’s so cold that I think my fingers would freeze off if we had to walk.”

  Jenna nodded enthusiastically.

  “Oh no problem!” she said, looking over her shoulder as we backed out of the driveway. The snow crunched under the Accord’s tires. “I totally get it. I hate winter and can’t wait until it’s warm again. Then it’s bikinis and booze, here I come!”

  I smiled wanly because again, going to beach parties isn’t my thing any more than winter-time parties. Sure, some people love the sun n’ surf, and I can see why. What could be better than drinks with gaily-colored umbrellas stuck in them, plus another horde of drunk, belligerent people? So I just nodded and smiled.

  “Sure,” was my neutral reply. “Can’t wait. Frozen margaritas, oh yeah!”

  And with a squeal of tires, we took off down the street. I was in the passenger seat with Bobbie sitting in the back, and my hand reflexively clutched the door handle as my heart thumped. Holy cow! Is this how Jenna drove every day?

  “Hey Jenna?” I said, trying not to hyperventilate. “I think the speed limit’s only fifteen miles per hour in residential areas? And you’re going forty-five right now?”

  My eyes scanned the dashboard and to my horror, the odometer said sixty. But Jenna wasn’t bothered at all.

  “Hmm?” she asked distractedly, turning up the knob on the radio. “What did you say? Oh my god, the Deadheads, they’re my favorite group!”

  And to my dismay, Jenna began headbanging as she drove. Her forehead almost hit the steering wheel whenever she bopped forwards, and then she’d jerk her head back in tune to the music violently, blonde curls bouncing.

  “Oh yeah, oh yeah!” she sang along to the refrain. “Go go go!”

  I turned my head to share a panicked look with Bobbie. At least now my best friend’s face was white as well, her expression stricken. But after Jenna made a sharp turn to the left, we pulled up to Bobbie’s house and the brunette jumped out before the car had even stopped.

  “Bye!” she panted, waving wildly at me through the window. “Thanks for the ride, Jenna! See you guys Monday!” she said before running up the snowy path to her house. I looked longingly after my friend. How could she leave me here with this crazy teenage driver in the middle of the night? How could Bobbie desert me?

  But my friend had already disappeared inside, the great oaken door swinging shut behind her. So I was left to my fate as Jenna shifted gears and pulled the car into drive once more.

  “Where to?” she asked, pitching her voice loud so that I could hear over the music. “Where do you live?”

  “Um, my house is just a little further!” I shouted, waving to the road in front of us. “Make a right, then a left, and then another right. You’ll see it on your right after that.”

  And with a roar, we were off and running. True to form, Jenna floored it again, my head jerking with whiplash as I clung to the door in fear for my life. But the blonde was totally oblivious, cranking up the music again and singing along at the top of her lungs.

  “Tra la la!” she cried. “Fa la la la!”

  Oh my god, was this some kind of drunken Christmas carol? But no, it was just the words of the song. There were no words, per se, just syllables expressing glee? Harmony? Joy? I had no idea.

  But to my horror, a pair of headlights suddenly appeared on the road before us, and instead of slowing, Jenna floored the accelerator.

  “Tra la la!” she sang again. “Tra la la!”

  Holy cow, we were going to die. Both my hands gripped the door now and I drew in a big breath to let out a scream.

  “Jenna!” I shrieked. “Watch ooouutt!”

  But it was unnecessary because the other car swerved at the last minute, narrowly missing us before fishtailing around and switching on its siren.

  Eee-ohhh, eee-ohhh! it blared. Just our luck. We’d almost collided with a police cruiser, the black and white obvious under the streetlamps now. I groaned but at least this hellride was over. Maybe I could get a lift from the police the rest of the way. Or walk, if it came to that.

  But Jenna was now totally freaked out. She flipped off the music, pulling the car to the side of the road.

  “You have to help me,” she pleaded, turning wide eyes my way. “I can’t get a ticket.”

  I shook my head.

  “B-but you almost just hit the police!” I sputtered. “There’s nothing I can do.”

  “No,” she said emphatically, as the cruiser pulled to a stop behind us. I could see the terror in her face before the glow of the red and blue flashing lights. “I’m serious. My parents said that if I get one more ticket, then I have to give up graduation.”

  I was tempted to say something reproachful. After all, she completely deserved this ticket. My heart was still beating from fear, and that was all her fault. But Jenna shook her head desperately again, blonde curls bobbing.

  “No, you don’t understand Marisa. If I get a ticket, I don’t get to graduate. As in, my parents pull me out of high school and send me to a g
irls’ detention center. And then I won’t be able to go to college next year!”

  Her voice was almost a quiet wail now. I stared at the blonde because surely, what she’d said couldn’t be true.

  “Are you serious?” I asked disbelievingly. “Who would do that? Just for a ticket? Maybe your parents mean you can’t participate in the graduation ceremony, but you can still finish high school.”

  But Jenna shook her head, swift and sure.

  “No, that’s what they mean,” she whispered. “This is my twentieth ticket this year, and actually, I wasn’t supposed to be driving at all,” she added tearfully. “So yeah, my mom and dad are going to send me into the mountains to some camp called Evolution if they find out. Please Marisa,” she begged. “Help me here. Please.”

  I nodded dumbly, eyes wide, although I had no idea what I could possibly do. I was only the passenger after all, and there were no open containers or anything suspicious in the car. So I whispered again.

  “Okay, keep cool,” I said. “I’ll do most of the talking.”

  Jenna nodded dumbly, eyes shining with tears, and we both turned to face forwards. Because the crunch of boots on snow was audible, and suddenly, there was a man standing by Jenna’s door.

  “Roll your window down,” came a low growl.

  Every nerve in my body seemed attuned to that male tone, but I forced myself to stay calm. It’s just the adrenaline, the voice in my head said. Keep your wits about you.

  Slowly, Jenna rolled her window down, cranking the glass inch by inch. Then a man leaned over, and the breath whooshed from my lungs altogether. Because he was gorgeous. There are cops and then there are cops. This guy was of the second type because he had eyes as blue as a midnight sky, with charcoal hair and a shade of stubble on that square jaw. The planes of his face were austere and handsome, with a sharp, aquiline nose and perfectly-molded lips.