“What else can I do for you, Officer?” I ask.
My meaning is clear and his eyes seem to flash with desire for just a second. His mouth turns up into the smallest grin I’ve ever seen and I wonder how many women flirt with him when he pulls them over. Even if I’d done nothing wrong and wasn’t trying to get out of a ticket I’d be tempted to flirt like crazy with him.
“I think that will be all for tonight.”
He opens my door for me and I slide into the driver’s seat as gracefully as possible. When my legs are safely inside he closes the door and leans in the window.
“I’ll let you off with a warning tonight.”
Relief washes over me. “No ticket?”
“No ticket. But don’t speed again, Allyson. I’d hate to have to take you in.”
“I promise,” I say and on the spur of the moment I kiss the tips of my fingers and press them to his lips. It’s like touching a statue. Even that isn’t enough to make him smile. “You be good, now,” he says and turns to head back to his car. I watch him walking away in my side mirror. There’s that swagger again that I know I won’t forget. It’s a swagger that makes me want to be bad, not good.
2
ALLYSON
The house is dark as I navigate my way upstairs. I don’t turn on the hall light in case my mother’s door is open. I think she’s home and I don’t want to wake her and endure questions that I’m not in any fit state to answer right now.
My legs are still trembling.
I tiptoe past my mother’s room and hurry through my nightly ritual. I’m so glad to be home after what happened. Going back to my dorm room just didn’t feel right, but I don’t want to think about the reasons why.
I allow thoughts of Officer Carlisle to fill my mind. The memory of the traffic stop makes my hands shake as I brush my teeth. Things could have gone so much worse if Officer Carlisle had been stricter. Thinking about it, things could have gone so much better if I’d been bolder and Officer Carlisle had been a dirtier cop. Trust me to find the only good one in town.
He might be a good cop, but he looked like a bad boy. I saw the edges of the tattoo he has around his bicep. Maybe he has more hidden under his uniform.
I imagine him in casual clothes; jeans and a t-shirt that would show off his great physique. I’m grateful for the distraction he’s provided me. I need other things to think about that don’t make my palms sweat with panic.
I make my way to my childhood bedroom. Mom always keeps it clean and tidy, the sheets and comforter freshly washed. She knows I like to come home when I can. I sit on the bed to take off my heels and then stand to slip off my dress. As it drops to the floor I remember the way Officer Carlisle’s hands felt against my skin; big, rough, capable. My nipples perk up as the material of the dress grazes them. My bad boy cop had been careful to avoid the best bits when he was frisking me, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering what his hands would have felt like on my breasts. Those large rough palms squeezing and bringing my nipples into hard peaks with a flick of a thumb.
I hang the dress in the closet, take off my makeup, and look for a pair of pajamas. The blue silk ones will feel good against my skin so I pull those on, turn my bedroom light off and fold the blankets down on my bed.
The house is completely quiet. So quiet my own breathing sounds loud in the darkness. In the silence, my thoughts drift back to the party. The memories are dark and the reality of my situation so dreadful that my heart picks up its pace in a flash. What have I gotten myself into? So stupid. So careless. I should have learned my lesson a long time ago.
Men can’t be trusted to protect you.
They only care about you when it suits them, and then they turn on you. A flash of a cold night, many years ago, comes into my mind. A dark looming man with a contorted face stands over my mom, one hand around her neck, the other balled into a fist at his side.
I take a deep breath and hold it, trying to regain control of myself. I’m weighed down by ghosts of the past and present and my fears for how they will impact my future. The burden of it all feels so heavy.
When I was little my mom told me that how I feel is my choice. She said if I let my worries grow in my mind, they’ll become too big to deal with. She taught me to imagine a box, open a lid, put my worries inside and close the lid. I had a lot of worries after that big man left us alone.
I do it now, heaping everything that happened at the party tonight and trying to seal it away. There’s a part of me that’s always doubted how healthy it is to do this. I know that therapists want their patients to talk about their troubles and, by doing so, accept the reality of their situation.
But I can’t.
I just can’t.
The silly glow-in-the-dark stars that I fastened to my bedroom ceiling when I was about nine shine down on me and I focus on the smallest one. I think about the assignment I’m working on and plan it out a little in my head, but the distraction doesn’t keep the top of the box in place. I see a flash of Drew’s face in my mind, my father’s closed fist, the fear in my mom’s eyes, and have to shake my head vigorously to displace it all.
I think about Officer Carlisle’s serious mouth and eyes that shone with something that I couldn’t seem to determine. I was so brazen with him and it’s not like me to put myself out there like that. I think about why I was different tonight. I was on edge for sure, and in a tight situation, but that isn’t everything. It was him.
The man was hotter than fire.
I momentarily feel guilty for my attempts to manipulate him. Using my womanly attributes seems cheap now that I’m alone in my bed. It was worth it, though, to avoid a ticket.
Sad that I’ll probably never see him again, I lay, waiting for sleep to claim me, but every time I let my mind drift it goes to unpleasant places. I focus on the memory of Officer Carlisle’s hands on me again. I close my eyes and think about him because the alternative is too dark and scary. While the touch of his hands on my legs was moan inducing, I would have liked more than the light caress he gave me. I would have liked to see more than the slight twitch of his lips into an almost grin. I’d love to know what he’d be capable of if he would just let out the bad boy that I thought I saw in his eyes.
I start to fantasize, letting my mind return to the place at the side of the road. I see myself facing my car as instructed with my hands pressed against the roof. Officer Carlisle is behind me running his hands up the outside of my legs tantalizingly slow. Every inch of my skin that he touches comes alive. Heat rushes to the spot and a shiver races up my body. I ache between my legs so badly, but this time, instead of maintaining his professionalism, he allows his thumbs to brush over my panties. My knees feel close to buckling, the cool air caressing between them a contrast to his hot fingers. I stiffen, not sure what to do, or what to say? Surely an officer of the law wouldn’t be so bold at a routine traffic stop.
“You like that, don’t you?” he mutters. “You want me to push a finger into that tight pussy.”
“No, Officer,” I say. “I don’t want that.” The words sound hollow, and I don’t move away.
“You can’t fool me.” His breath is hot on the back of my thigh. He’s so close I’m sure he must be able to smell how aroused I am.
“Honestly, I don’t like it. You can’t do that.” I pretend to look around frantically for help.
“You’re lying, Allyson. I can feel your heat and I can smell how much you want it. I can take you right here and no one will stop me.”
God, his voice. The rough tone of it combined with a hint of desperation. He sounds close to losing control and it turns me on so much. I don’t want him to know, though. I pretend I don’t want the things that he’s saying. I pull away slightly to force him to move closer. He caresses me again and I shiver, biting my lip to stop a moan from escaping.
“Please stop, Officer Carlisle. I won’t speed again. I promise.”
He stands up behind me, so tall and broad his presence is like a wall at
my back. He chuckles in my ear, his hot breath sending another shiver through me.
“Why should I stop? You want this. You want me. If you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t have been speeding along this stretch of road.”
“I didn’t mean to be speeding. Please don’t do this.” I lean back ever so slightly to be closer to him. My pussy throbs for attention, the teasing caresses driving me crazy.
“You still need to be taught a lesson.” He strokes my thighs once more and I hear him chuckle when I tremble.
“You’re scaring me.” I say, my voice breathless.
“You should be scared. I’m checking for weapons and I know you’ve got something bad here.” He grips my thighs to pull my legs apart even more. I lean into the car, my hands still splayed on the roof. “I know you’re hot for me, Allyson. I can tell when I do this.” He runs a finger up my thigh until he’s almost touching my pussy.
My thighs quiver and my pussy is wet with wanting. My whole body is alight with longing. I ache to be filled, hoping he’ll follow through with the taunts. The heat from his body seeps into my back blocking out a cool night breeze.
“Officer, please, don’t touch me like that.”
“Like what? This?” He trails a finger along my thigh just below my pussy. The teasing gesture makes my pussy hunger for him even more.
He’s in no hurry, despite how exposed we are. His finger slowly strokes along the seam of my panties, nudging them to the side in such tiny increments that I almost don’t notice what he’s doing until I’m fully exposed. He slips that same finger through the soft fold of my pussy, parting everything so explicitly that my legs almost give way. When he finally pushes his finger deep inside me, I suck in a noisy and desperate sounding breath. Oh god, it feels so good. It shouldn’t but it does.
I bite my lip to keep from moaning, to keep the charade of my resistance going.
“You’re so wet, Allyson. Wet for me?”
“No, not for you.”
He plunges his finger in deeper, sliding in easily because I’m so slick.
“I can tell you want me, Allyson.” He fingers me faster and despite myself, I lower my hips to take him.
“No, I don’t want you.”
The lie falls from my lips easily because I know he won’t listen. He won’t stop what he’s doing. He’ll keep probing inside me, violating me, just the way I like it. He pushes a second finger into me, stretching my walls. I bite back a groan, force myself not to bend my legs to drive his fingers further inside me.
“Yes, you do.”
The rasp of his zipper makes my eyes flutter closed. I tremble again, waiting for his next move, knowing what it will be and eager to have his cock between my legs.
“I’m big, Allyson, but I know you can take me. I’m going to force you to open you right up.” He almost growls the words and a real shiver of fear runs through me. If he’s as big as I imagine, maybe it’ll hurt.
Not able to move, I wait. He takes his fingers out of my pussy and I already miss the intrusion. I need him to fill me, fuck me, take me as hard as he wants. He slips his dick between my legs and my juices coat him. I lean over slightly to give him better access even as I say, “Don’t, please.”
He teases me, nudging the opening of my body with his cock, rubbing it back and forth between my lips but not plunging deep like I want him to. I can’t ask him to take me. I’m not supposed to like this. I’ve been protesting since the first caress. I force myself to stay still, wondering when he’ll do what he’s been threatening.
“Can you feel that, baby?” he mutters in my ear. “I’m coated in your juices because you want me so bad, don’t you? You want me to fuck you so hard.”
I’m so turned on I can hardly breathe. I sag against the car, feeling weak with desire. Officer Carlisle shifts slightly behind me, as though he might be considering pulling away. “No, I don’t. I want you to stop,” I blurt, hoping my words will keep him in the game.
He reaches up and cups my breast, flicking the nipple into a hard peak. As he rolls it between his thumb and finger, sending a jolt of electricity to my pussy, he laughs in my ear. I love his laugh and the way it makes me feel so worthless and humiliated. His breath is hot on my neck; intimidating. I want to beg him to fuck me hard, to stick his big dick inside me as deep as he can get it. I want him to knock the breath from my lips and the sense from my head. All that matters is the ache in my pussy that can only be eased with his help.
“What are you going to do to stop me?” His whisper in my ear sends a shiver through me because, even if I really did want to stop him, there would be no fighting him off. Officer Carlisle is a mountain of a man; brute strength and pure force combined.
The head of his cock feels so big at my entrance. He cants his hips, nudging and nudging, and my pussy gets wetter and greedier with every move. Oh, I want him to push harder, to drive it into me, to split me open just like he promised. He grips my hips harder, fingers digging into my soft flesh, and thrusts until his cock breaches the tight entrance of my cunt and he slides right in deep. It feels so amazing, like cool lemonade on a hot summer’s day and a million other amazing clichés I could think of. I moan, in my fantasy and in reality too, as my hand slips into my silk pajama bottoms and the tip of my finger finds my clit. I rub in slow circles as I imagine the length of him filling me and owning me. It feels so good I can’t stop.
With one hand still groping my breast, fantasy Officer Carlisle jerks his hips up as he pumps hard, my pussy gripping him tight.
The force of his thrusts push me into the car and it rocks slightly as Officer Carlisle fucks me. The metal is cool against my skin, soothing, keeping me cool enough to enjoy the heat of the sex. He keeps thrusting, my protests completely gone from my mind now. How could I have denied him this, denied myself this?
He grunts behind me as his hands find my waist to hold me in place while he thrusts.
“You like that, Allyson? You like it when I fuck you like this. You want me to fuck you harder?”
I mumble something noncommittal and rest my head on the car. It’s fantasy so I don’t even care that we’re on the side of the road and can be seen by anyone driving by. If I’m honest, the idea that someone might be watching just makes me hotter. I lean over even more so he can go deeper. I’m not supposed to be liking it but I feel so wet on the insides of my thighs. My body is betraying me and Officer Carlisle can tell. It’s as if he can read all my dirty thoughts.
“You want me to fuck you faster?” He reaches up to squeeze my breast again sending another jolt of awareness to my pussy.
His hands return to my waist, guiding me along his dick in a rhythm that drives me crazy. It keeps me hovering close to the edge of orgasm, but not quite pushing me over the edge. I feel it simmering just below the surface and I whimper and moan, taking all the pleasure I can from his thrusts.
He pounds into me harder until I feel my orgasm rising. My clit pulses. My pussy throbs. After all the protests he’s going to make me come and I can’t even feel bad about it. He slips a hand between my legs, spreading my lips roughly and exposing my swollen and vulnerable clit. I imagine him pinching it hard and I do it to myself, bucking my hips with the sensation. I slip a finger inside to coat it, and imagine the rough tip of my naughty cop’s finger rubbing roughly against the most sensitive part of my body. Oh, it feels so damn good I can hardly stand it.
All pretense is gone now because I’m so desperate for release. I rock back into him and he pumps harder and faster, cock hammering and finger rubbing, harder, harder, harder until his beautiful big cock sends an orgasm crashing through my body. The release is so sweet and seems to go on forever.
My pussy clenches around Officer Carlisle’s imaginary cock that is really three of my fingers. Spasms rack my body as I plunge them in and out to mimic what he was doing in my fantasy. I gasp in breaths of air, eyes closed to maintain the illusion I’ve created. My heart races so fast I feel woozy, drunk on pleasure and hormones.
&
nbsp; It was the release I needed to keep my worries locked up in the box. I stretch out on the bed, content, sleepy. The image of Officer Carlisle’s face hovers in my mind. His full lips almost grinning, his eyes twinkling. What I would do to have his hands on my body again in reality, not just in my silly fantasies. But for now, the fantasies will have to do because I’m definitely not planning on breaking the law anytime soon, and I’ll probably never see him again.
3
CORY
I’ve got less than an hour until the end of my shift when the call comes in. A domestic dispute, half way across town and called in by a kid.
I hate this shit.
Men using their fists to control their women, taking out their anger and frustrations on the people they should care for the most. Men using vile words to reduce the people that love them to nothing. And worst of all, doing this in front of innocent kids who grow up thinking that it’s normal to beat on their family or it’s normal to expect a beating.
I can deal with the bullshit bar fights and the driver disputes. I can deal with chasing down thieves and arresting shoplifters. But seeing the terrified eyes and bloody faces in crimes like this sets my fists clenching and my belly filling with anger.
I’m in my car, blue-lighting all the way. Most of the time with cases like this it’s all died down by the time we arrive, but sometimes it has escalated into worse that angry fists.
Sometimes it ends up in tragedy.
Another unit is also on its way so I know that I’ll have back-up. It’s not so much that I worry about my own safety, more that my anger might lead me to do something unprofessional. It takes a lot of restraint to stick within the letter of the law sometimes.
The property is nice, the lawn neat and flowers in boxes by the door. Domestic abuse isn’t just an issue of poverty. The front door is closed and I knock loudly, my hand on my weapon as I wait for it to open.
A boy of about ten peeks around the door and his eyes fill with relief when he sees me.
ARRESTED: A Stepbrother Cop Romance Page 2