Without a case to review, he felt free to watch her as she shifted from high-heeled foot to another. He guessed she waited on the captain, which meant he would have a nice long time to daydream about what the rest of her body would look like in a black lace bra and matching thong. He wouldn't mind working with her. Getting a view of those legs each day might inspire him to keep his job as a detective for the New Orleans Police Department. The firm, toned biceps on the woman drew his eye as well. The cap sleeve of her simple white blouse covered her deltoids, but he bet that he'd be able to see the definition there as well. All of the muscles were well complemented to her long dark blond hair and tanned skin.
He'd never been able to resist a well-built, athletic woman. It was their attitude for life that attracted him as much as their bodies. A healthy physique meant a healthy mind, ready for challenges, changes, and the seemingly insurmountable problems that came with living in New Orleans. That's why he kept exercising well past the age that most men called it quits. At forty-two, he looked better than some of the younger beat officers. He prided himself in that.
What he didn't have was their enthusiasm for keeping the Crescent City a safe place with less theft, less violence, and definitely less murder. He'd seen too much, too many ups followed by dispiriting downs. Jameson wanted to hang up his gun and holster, permanently.
The woman tapped her foot loudly and leaned over the desk at the entrance in an attempt to get the desk officer's attention. Jameson snorted. Good luck there, lady, but keep leaning over. His cock stretched his pants with this new view of her solid and curvy ass. The woman had to be an expert at developing her legs from the toned calves to the tight hamstrings. He flexed his hands, wishing he could caress those muscles as he made a slow journey to her strong, round globes.
He shook his head. The captain needed to give him a case. Otherwise, he'd start ogling the hookers on the weekends, and that never led to good things.
Another sergeant, younger, with a developing potbelly, passed behind his chair and gave it a kick. Jameson jolted upright and growled at the cop who'd kicked his seat. “Stop being an ass, Decker.”
Decker grinned. “Stop looking at hers, or go over and make her feel more comfortable. An old guy like you will calm her, you know, with your grandfatherly ways.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Jameson pushed his chair away from his desk. He'd show Decker just how he could affect a woman. Her hand wouldn't be on her hip long. It would be on his chest, then his abdomen, and she'd gasp with delight at the size of his dick. Decker wouldn't ever know any of it since Jameson wouldn't ever be that public with his caresses. And, the woman was worth exploring. Those were thoughts he'd keep to himself. Maybe he could spend some time with her to keep her calm before the captain showed his face. She had a folder, he noticed. So, he had an opening to talk to her. It couldn't hurt.
As he got five feet away from her, the captain's door opened. The lady's body snapped to attention, and her shoulder-length golden hair whipped about her tanned face. She gave a small smile, but it vanished as she walked to the captain.
Jameson knew that his superior officer carried more woes than anyone else in the district. This one was supposed to be the quieter police district, but lately, small crimes and a few larger ones were making headlines. Despite the work of the detectives, two of the larger ones were still unsolved. A rapist and a murderer still walked the streets of Uptown.
Based on the tightened mouth of the woman a few feet away from him, he figured she was a victim of some crime. He highly doubted she'd been raped. Nothing about her showed that look, that empty, glassy-eyed appearance of a woman who'd been assaulted. Plus, he bet she could kick any man from here to Sunday if one tried to take advantage of her.
Then, he had a wild thought. Was she here for a job? Transfer from another city? Former military? His heart raced with the possibility of working next to her. Strong, confident, determined. He swallowed hard and tried to think of something besides her hard body next to his as their partnership became more than business related. If he didn't get his lust under control soon, Decker would have some quip ready about the growing tent at his crotch.
“Captain, don't even try to reschedule.” Her voice and the accompanying scowl wiped away all imaginings of sex with her. Shrill, angry, and laced with bitterness. Not what anyone wanted to hear first thing in the morning. She took a few steps toward Captain Usner and shook her file folder at him. “You've put me off for weeks, and I'm not leaving until I get an officer assigned to this case.”
“Exactly, Ms. Robinson.” Usner didn't even try to hide his exasperation.
Jameson figured she must have called four times a day or more. The captain had complained about the shrew constantly bothering him. With a glance, he sized up the lady again. Banging-hot body, pleasing face, bad attitude. He'd retreat now. Maybe the captain wouldn't notice him. He most certainly didn't want to work with her.
“So,” her foot tapped again, “who?”
The captain pointed right at Jameson's face. “Sergeant Kelly just cleared his case load on Friday. Three solved in one day. He's all yours.”
Jameson cringed. Too late. He'd barely turned to hide at his desk when the captain called his name. Not willing to catch the ire of his boss, he stuck out his hand to the lady. “Ma'am. I hope I can be the one to help you.”
“Me, too.” She tossed her hair in what Jameson took as a sign of triumph. “Zara Robinson, and I've been waiting weeks to hear something from you guys. Shall we begin?” Her grip of his hand matched his expectations, firmer than many men's.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the captain back into his office with a grin and a wave. “Sure. Let me get your case file.”
“No need.” She shook the well-worn folder at him. “It's all here. Where's your desk?”
From the sound of Decker's snickering, Jameson knew he didn't want to hear what she had to say within ear-shot of anyone at the station. “How about I buy you a cup of coffee at the cafe across the street? Better than what we have here, and it gets you out of a place you don't like so much.”
“Fine.” She adjusted her shoulders downward, relaxing some tension. “That's a good idea. I don't like this place. At all.”
One mark in his favor. Of course, he was fighting her image of New Orleans' cops, which surely involved laziness, over use of force, and general sloppiness in their work. “Let me get my jacket, cover all this hardware.” He patted his firearm that hung around his shoulders on a harness.
“I'll wait outside.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don't think you can dis me, though.”
“Ma'am, I wouldn't even think of it.” He'd solve her case and leave the force with a good taste in his mouth. This would be a parting gift to his captain, keeping Zara Robinson off his voicemail.
As he passed Decker's desk, he kicked the man's chair, mostly to stop the man from laughing so loudly.
“Kelly, if you get some from her, make sure you use a gag. That way you won't hear her complain.”
“Shut the fuck up, Decker.” He had to get a better come back for the man. Of course, the best retort would be to get a taste of Zara Robinson's body. It would be for his satisfaction only. He sure wouldn't share that with the prick who couldn't keep in shape.
Thank you for purchasing
this Wild Rose Press, Inc. publication.
For other wonderful stories of erotic romance,
please visit our on-line bookstore at
www.thewilderroses.com.
For questions or more information
contact us at
[email protected].
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
www.thewilderroses.com
yscale(100%); -moz-filter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
Man Of Few Words Page 12