Playin’ Cop (Heroes of Henderson ~ Prequel)

by Kelly, Liz

  He fumbled in his jacket pocket for his cell phone and handed it to her. “Call Brooks,” he said. “Tell him I wanna open her up along Lake Road. See if any of his cop buddies are patrolling there this time of night.”

  “Really? You want me to call Brooks and tell him where we are?”

  “Haven’t we had enough tickets today, Little Miss Speedy Gonzales?”

  “Are you kidding me? Brooks will be calling everybody on duty to nail your ass coming and going. You’d be handing him the revenge he needs after you won the bet today.”

  Duncan stared at Annabelle, open mouthed.

  “At least that’s what I’d do.” She flicked her shoulder. “But it’s your money,” she said, starting to dial.

  Duncan grabbed the phone out of her hands. “It’s exactly what I’d do, too,” he muttered. “And what Brooks would do,” he assured her. “And did I just hear the word ‘ass’ come out of your mouth?” he said, stuffing the phone back in his pocket. “The Queen of Etiquette?” he said, putting the Camaro in gear and moving out onto the open road. “Or was that the hot babe in the Auto Mechanics Club talking?”

  Annabelle just smiled into the night whizzing by her. “Take your pick,” she said.

  I want both.

  It was then that the thrill turned from the drive to what might be found at the destination.

  Chapter Eight

  Lake Road was the perfect place to open her up, but Annabelle knew that speed was one thrill, and handling another. So after Duncan hit somewhere around one hundred-twenty on the speedometer, Annabelle directed him to a winding country road leading up a small pass to a park that overlooked the lake. The back and forth turns could have been taken with a bit more speed in the light of day, but Duncan’s expressions and occasional outbursts assured her that he was having a good time playing with her car.

  The road dumped into a small parking lot, which was apparently just large enough for Duncan to gun the engine, spin them around and skid into a stop. All of which was a little more daredevil than Duncan probably had intended, producing a short scream from Annabelle and some wide eyes and heavy breathing from him as the car settled beneath them.

  “Oh my God!” “That was close!” they said at the same time.

  “I got a little carried away,” he said sheepishly.

  “Believe me, I understand,” she assured him. “Would you mind taking off your coat before we start back?”

  Duncan looked down at his tuxedo jacket. “I am so sorry,” he said, quickly stripping the coat from his arms. “You must be freezing.”

  “No,” she said, folding his jacket and holding it over the back seat. She let it drop behind them.

  “No?” he said, his eyes shifting back and forth between hers.

  She shook her head as she reached for his right hand and started to unfasten the cufflink she found at his wrist. Duncan watched in silence as she dropped it into the cup holder. But when she leaned over him and started to unfasten the other one, he dragged in a slow breath and caught the back of her head in the palm of his hand. She finished pulling the cufflink free just as he turned her face to his.

  “Annabelle,” he whispered, his breath labored. “Annabelle, I….”

  At a loss for words he brought his other hand up and captured the side of her face, pressing her back a little before his mouth caught up to his hands. He pressed his lips to hers in a slow, soft kiss.

  It was just a tease, a tender touch, but oh how it shot rockets of desire through her body. He angled his head and kissed her again, this time allowing his tongue to sweep gently across her upper lip and then her lower one. He turned his head the other way and Annabelle’s hands moved up of their own volition to grab onto his wrists as his mouth toyed again with delicious tenderness.

  “Annabelle,” he whispered, balancing his forehead against hers. “I was trying to hold out until midnight.”

  Deliberately licking her lips, she whispered back, “I got tired of waiting.”

  “I was trying to mind my manners,” he grunted as he hauled her over to the driver’s side, and settled her onto his lap. “Something I’m aware the Keeper of the Debutantes is all about.” With her back to the door and her legs draped over him and the center console, he hit the seat adjustment button to move them back from the steering wheel as far as possible.

  Annabelle’s fingers started in on his bow tie, pulling it loose with expert hands. “First my jacket. Then my cufflinks. Now my tie? What am I? Your little Ken doll?”

  Annabelle stopped her fingers on the second stud of his shirt, slanting her head to consider. “No. You’re more like my Officer Friendly action figure. And I’ve been dying to see you without a shirt ever since this afternoon when you wrapped me in your coat and pulled me up against this chest.” She rubbed her hands down his shirt, over his pectoral muscles and his rib cage then back up and over his shoulders. She stopped at his biceps and squeezed.

  Duncan watched her ogle him, his grin spreading from ear to ear. “I guess a girl who drives a muscle car might have an appreciation for….” His words fell off while he moved his fingers into Annabelle’s hair. “I had this crazy urge this afternoon, too,” he said slowly, as if remembering. “I wanted to run my hand through your hair. Like this,” he said threading his fingers up the back of her scalp. “And then pull you close,” he whispered as he did. “And kiss you,” he went on as he touched her lips with short, soft kisses. “Like I meant it,” he breathed before he deepened the kiss.

  The thrill of his tongue finally demanding its way into her mouth shot a branding heat throughout her chest and down the center of her rib cage. Her body grew heavy and warm and then seemed to fade away. Her mind fell into a blissful state of semi-consciousness while she kissed Duncan James.

  Like rising through the fog of a dream and entering slowly back into a state of awareness, Annabelle found herself in Duncan’s arms, her body tingling in arousal, his mouth trailing its way from her lips, down her throat and over to the sensitive spot just above her clavicle. She felt his tongue swirl across the indentation there and his hands moving up on both sides of her rib cage, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts at first…then finally moving across the peaks of her nipples.

  She heard a sound escape, though she was unaware of making it, so focused on her core being melted, tipped, and now cascading down to pool at the southernmost region of her body.

  “I want….” she started, eyes closed, licking her lips. “I need to….” she tried again, but had no ability to find the right words. “Here,” she finally breathed, gripping the back of his seat and leveraging herself around Duncan’s legs. She pulled at her gown, gathering it high so her legs could straddle his, bringing them face to face. She eased her body down to his lap and bit her bottom lip when the throbbing aching need of her met the rock-solid heat of him.

  Duncan rolled his pelvis in response. His hands slid down to grip her hips. “Jesus Christ,” he cursed as he rocked himself against her again. His hands slid under her gown and up her parted thighs, feeling their way to the soft curve of her behind, moving her forward at the same time as he ground himself against her. His mouth sought hers and she feasted on his lips, tilting her pelvis to help create more friction.

  The deliciousness of her body moving against his, of his arms tightening around her, of the way their lips played, the way their tongues tangled, the joy of being alive and having found the One bubbled up inside Annabelle and it all came out in a yummy, humming sort of groaning approval that vibrated against his lips.

  “I know,” he breathed, a hand coming up and sweeping the hair back from her face. “This feels really….” He kissed her again. “Really….” He got lost in her lips, and his hands groped around for purchase between the sides of her thighs, her lower back, sometimes skimming her aching breasts but not settling anywhere for long. Finally, he set both hands on either side of her face and put some distance between their lips. He looked at her, then closed his eyes, panting.
>
  “This….” he started, opening his eyes and staring at her seriously. “We…” His chest heaved with a large intake of breath as he managed to continue, “are not making this a one-night stand.”

  Annabelle leaned back a little. “Are you asking me out on a second date?”

  He nodded, still holding his hands to her head. “Are you accepting?”

  She nodded back.

  “I’m serious,” he told her.

  “I believe you,” she said.

  His hands fell from her face in exasperation. “And I probably am going to have to turn in my Man Card for this, but I have no intention of making love to you for the first time in this car. It just would…” his voice began to trail off, “set the wrong tone for a relationship.” He turned his head and looked out into the darkness.

  The silence pounded heavy and long, matching Annabelle’s heartbeat. She wanted to respond with a gift of words equal to what he’d just bestowed upon her. But her mind could find nothing worthy. Emotion swelled within her and before she could lean into him, he turned his face back and barked, “Don’t you debutantes have a five date rule or something?”

  She nodded briskly and saw his features soften. Inches apart, he had to have noticed the tears in her eyes. “We should,” she sniffed, nodding again. “We really should.” She eased herself down against him, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

  His arms closed snugly around her as he said, “So let’s count this up. We have tonight, date number one. Your daddy asked me over tomorrow for the Rose Bowl, so maybe we can count that as date number two.” Annabelle simply snuggled down lower. “Tomorrow night we both will be back in Raleigh and I’m thinking I’d like to take you to dinner, if that’s all right.” She nodded her head against his chest. “That’s date number three.”

  He rubbed his cheek. “Friday night is always a good movie date night,” he said. “You free this Friday?” He tucked his chin to look down at her and she nodded against him again. “Okay, good. Date number four.”

  A comfortable silence settled around them, the heater still pouring out warmth, the headlights still shining on the road back down the hill. When Duncan started to talk, it was as if he were constructing a poetic invitation. “For date number five,” he breathed, tilting his head and kissing the soft spot behind her ear, “I will discover, through my own devices, your favorite flower and present you with a bouquet when I arrive to pick you up. We’ll take my car––which is not as fast as this one but a little more luxurious––to The Capital Grille where we’ll enjoy a steak dinner by candlelight at a very secluded table. I’ll order a fine cabernet and we’ll share the chocolate soufflé for dessert. And while we’re at dinner, we’ll make plans for Valentine’s Day weekend. And then,” he said, leaning down and catching her lips up with his, “I will take you home and make love to you,” he said between kisses, “all…night…long.”

  Chapter Nine

  Their absence wasn’t noticed until Annabelle and Duncan arrived back at the party hand in hand, moonstruck by all accounts. If anyone had been watching––and no one was, due to the shenanigans on stage––they’d notice that the kiss they shared at midnight was both hungry and eager. In high spirits, watching Annabelle say goodbye to friends and relatives as the party began to dwindle, Duncan’s only pang of uncertainty came when he overheard Annabelle tell one of her debutantes about instituting a “five date rule”. He had a sinking feeling that that whole thing was going to come back and bite him in the ass.

  ***

  Duncan’s concern about getting along with Mr. Devine and gaining his favor was short-lived. The man seemed genuinely delighted to have a bit more testosterone around the house watching football during date number two. It was the Devine women who threw Duncan a curve ball from the moment he arrived.

  It was hard to miss that Mrs. D was all grins and sighs whenever Duncan spoke about anything. And likewise, Grace––no longer the fairy princess but still a knockout in her faded blue jeans–stared at Duncan wide-eyed in wonder for most of the day. Tess…Well, Tess didn’t pay him much mind, though when she did deem to acknowledge his presence, it was always with a great amount of personal satisfaction. As if Annabelle had told her that he did, indeed, kiss as well as Lewis Kampmueller––and that in some way Tess was pleased for her sister.

  Annabelle, herself, was simply more.

  More sporty––in jeans and a Carolina blue v-neck sweater––her red hair in a high ponytail with a twist that bounced with so much life he couldn’t help but tug on it.

  More playful––as she interacted with him and her family. Her knowledge of football and sports in general, setting her apart from the other females.

  More handsy––touching him casually in front of her parents and in more shocking ways when she pulled him into the kitchen to prepare a plethora of snacks.

  She was a handful, this Annabelle Devine, stealing kisses and insinuating about Saturday night every chance she got.

  The complete package was more to his liking than Duncan could have dreamed. Annabelle was a rose, with more soft and intriguing petals than he could count. He definitely did not want to blow this. But after stopping in at the Bennetts’ before heading back to Raleigh, he began to worry that he already had.

  “Aren’t you a little young for needing Viagra?” Vance started in on him by the beer refrigerator out in the garage. “I mean, just because you can’t get it up doesn’t mean you have to ruin things for the rest of us.”

  Duncan squinted at the fool in front of him. “What the hell are you talking about, Evans?”

  Vance just looked disgusted and took a swig from his bottle.

  “He’s just a little pissed at this five date rule,” Brooks offered.

  “Oh shit.”

  “Oh shit is right,” Vance agreed, popping Duncan’s chest with the lip of his long-neck bottle. “I don’t care if you want to play the gentleman for Ms. Devine or if you’re covering up the fact that you’ve been neutered. Leave the fucking rest of us out of your insanity, Dunc. Some of us are interested in getting laid before the fifth date. Before any date,” Vance spat.

  “How the hell did this get out?”

  “Oh, bro. It’s out. It’s out and alive and crawling all over the place,” Brooks said. “The women of Henderson are loving this. They’ll probably have a statue erected in your honor. Anyone with a daughter is singing your praises right about now. Of course,” he said, taking a swig of beer, “anybody with a pair of balls would like to cut yours off.”

  Duncan squeezed his eyes shut and stood contemplating all the ramifications of his conversation with Annabelle. And the one he focused on was the horror of Annabelle finding out the actual truth. Because for someone who prided himself on valuing truth above all else, he’d gone and bent it twice in one day. And he knew himself and his temper well enough to know that, had Annabelle been the one doing the truth bending, he’d be walking away and not looking back.

  He knew he should keep it to himself, but the guilt had started to grow the moment he’d seen the emotion in her eyes. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep this in. He had to tell somebody.

  “Look,” he said, releasing a huge breath. “I wasn’t trying to be a gentleman. The truth is, I just couldn’t find the damn zipper on her dress.”

  ***

  By the time Duncan stood on the doorstep of Annabelle’s condominium in Raleigh, ready for date number three, he’d considered and rejected a million ways to tell her the truth.

  What he’d said was true. He damn well didn’t want a one-night stand. And he had no intention of making love in that crazy-ass car of hers. But he was only a man for God’s sake, and a weak one at that. Things had heated up faster than he could keep ahead of, and his saving grace was that her dress had zipped up the side, not the back. So he’d fallen back on Plan A and told her the truth. But when she didn’t respond, he’d felt vulnerable and threw out the five date rule bullshit. And now she’d gone and told the debutantes
and who knew who the hell else. No wonder her mother and sisters were looking at him with big ol’ eyes all afternoon.

  He wanted Annabelle to fall in love with him, but not under false pretenses. He had to tell her the truth.

  But date number three at the sports bar went so well––eating hamburgers and discovering more and more about each other––including a bunch of mutual friends––that Duncan literally forgot the dark cloud hanging over everything. Who would have guessed that a red-headed Southern belle liked to ski the double black diamond slopes, or had her own bookie?

  The date went later than either of them planned and for the second night in a row, at the stroke of midnight, there was a kiss that set off fireworks.

  ***

  OMG falling fast. Annabelle texted Grace and Tess the next day. Sending pictures of possible lingerie for Saturday night. Stand by.

  Annabelle snapped pictures of a combination camisole and boy-shorts, nude in color and adorned in French lace, a baby pink bra and panty set, and a sexy but fun black strapless negligee that tied under the bust with a big red bow.

  Your signature white? Grace texted.

  Wearing a killer white dress, she texted back. Her phone rang and Tess was on the other end.

  “I like the red bow. Like he’s opening a gift,” Tess teased.

  “Yeah.” Annabelle smiled into the phone. “I thought so too. It’s flirty. I just want to make sure it’s not too flirty. Too much.”

  “Annabelle, you are planning to consummate this relationship, right? I don’t think anything is too flirty at this point.”