Confessions of a Bad Boy Cop

by Cathryn Fox

  “Why don’t you?”

  I frown, and glance into my glass. Lu places her hand over mine. “She’s not your responsibility, Layla.”

  “I know, I just…I can’t explain it.”

  “She’s your mother, I get it, but maybe it’s time you started thinking about yourself. She obviously never puts your first.” I nod. I can’t disagree, because everything Lu is saying is true. “You always wanted to move to New York.” She snaps her fingers. “You’re the top in your class and I’m sure there are plenty of law firms that would snap you up while you finished your degree at NYU.”

  “I’d miss you,” I say, even though she told me a million times that she’d move with me. As a nurse, she can work in any hospital in the country, and would love to get out of San Antonio as much as I would.

  “Are you sure it’s not him you’ll miss?”

  Him, as in Jack Michaels.

  My heart thuds just thinking about him. I haven’t seen Jack since the funeral, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel him. There are times I know he’s watching me, and no matter how hard I try, I can never find him in the crowd.

  I look at my phone, run my fingers over the screen. His number has been in here for years, but everything changed once Dad died. At the funeral Jack consoled me, his touch one of an authority figure, not a lover. I cry for what could have been, but it’s too late now. His role over me has changed and I can’t bear to be around him without being allowed to touch. I agreed to those terms when I was seventeen, but now, I’m a grown woman with needs, and it would surely kill me to be near him and have him refusing to acknowledge the deep connection between us.

  “Call him already.”

  I shake my head and a few loose tendrils of hair fall from my ponytail. “I can’t.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “You know why not.” I finish my drink and gesture to the waitress for another, having surpassed my two-drink rule already. I refuse to end up like my mother, which is why I set limits, but tonight, my stomach is in knots. Probably because I felt Jack’s hot glare earlier today, and have carried it with me since then, wanting to curl up into a ball and lose myself in it.

  “Fucking call him already, Layla. Show him you’re not his ‘responsibility.’” She pauses to do air quotes around that word. “Same as your mother is not your responsibility. Show him you’re not looking for a daddy, but a lover.”

  “What if I do and he refuses? Sometimes I think it’s better not knowing. I couldn’t handle the rejection.”

  Lu leans forward in her chair, her look conspiratorial when she says, “He’s not going to reject you. Not when you show him you’re all grown up, and ready for him.”

  “What if—”

  “Stop with the ‘what ifs.’ There has never been any other man in your life. You don’t want anyone else. Are you really going to spend the rest of your days celibate and pining over Jack?”

  “No, but what it—”

  “Ohmigod, enough already,” she yells. She grabs my phone, and types something in before I can get it from her.

  “What are you doing?” I cry.

  “What you should have done a long time ago.”

  I put my hands over my face. “Lu, please tell me you didn’t text him.”

  She pulls my hands away, and holds my phone out so I can read it. It says…“Vanilla.”

  Blood rushes to my face, and I don’t know whether to kick her or thank her. Yes, I’ve wanted to send that one word to him for six long years, but I’m not sure I can face Jack if he comes to me in parent mode.

  My mind races, the lawyer in me playing out every possible scenario, and coming up with the worst. “He’s probably not going to respond,” I say, but oh how I want him to. How I want him to text back and tell me that he’s never stopped loving me and we can finally be together. I stare at the phone and silence hangs heavy. No beeps, no buzzes, no vibrations.

  The waitress brings our drinks, and I suck half mine down in record time as my nerves jump, my eyes never leaving the phone—just in case. A minute passes, then two. “I told you,” I say, a lump of disappointment pushing into my throat. I try to swallow it down, try not to let Lu see how upset I am with her right now. She never should have sent that text. I was right. It was easier not knowing.

  “We should go,” I say, trying to make my voice sound normal. I reach for my phone, but it vibrates on the table. I pull my hand back like its been burned and all the air rushes from my lung.

  “Told you so,” Lu shoots back and reaches for the phone.

  I stare at her, my mouth opening and closing, my rattled brain barely able to function. Was it Jack? Is he answering my distress call?

  “It’s him,” Lu says, a devilish grin spreading across her face.

  “What…what does it say?” I ask, not sure I really want to know.

  “He’s asking where you are.” She wags her brows. “He’s ready and willing to come for you, Layla. All you have to do is tell him where you are.”

  I flatten my hands on the table, and breathe past the panic. “I don’t…what if…”

  “For God’s sake,” Lu says and runs her fingers over the screen.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Telling him where to find you.”

  My heart is beating so fast, I can barely hear the noise in the bar. My phone vibrates again. “What does it say?”

  “That he’ll be here in less than ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes,” I squeak out. “Oh my God.”

  “Say that again.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Yeah, get used to it, I’m sure you’ll be screaming it later tonight.”

  I push from my chair. I stand, and then sit back again, not knowing what to do with myself. Cripes, I’m more nervous today than I was when I was a teen and hitting on him. Probably because back then I knew where we stood. Today, not so much.

  What if he refuses to acknowledge the bond between us?

  What if he doesn’t?

  I start to fix my hair, and grab my purse from my bag to check my lipstick.

  “Relax,” Lu says. “You’re gorgeous. Look around.” She waves her hand and I follow the direction. “There isn’t a guy in this place that doesn’t want to go home with you tonight.”

  “I think you’re mistaken. They’re looking at you.”

  “Only because you give off ‘fuck off’ vibes.”

  I crinkle my nose. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. Look at any one of these guys the right way.” She stops to snap her fingers. “And they’ll be drooling at your feet.”

  “I don’t want any of these guys,” I say.

  “Which is why I sent that text.”

  Excitement coils through me at the thought of seeing Jack again, and when I make eye contact with one of the guys at the bar, he smiles at me. He nudges his friend and they say something to the bartender.

  I gesture with a nod. “Great, I was thinking about Jack and I think I just gave off the wrong signal, or rather the right signal, depending on how you look at it.”

  Lu looks over her shoulders. “No worries. I’ll take one for the team.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ll double team them. Let you off the hook so you can go out with Jack.”

  I give a nervous laugh. “Uh, thank you. I think.”

  “You’re quite welcome,” she teases with a wink.

  I reapply my lipstick, and the two guys at the bar walk up to us, fresh daiquiris in their hands. The blond guy looks at my freshly painted lips as he slides me drink in front of me.

  “I bet I can kiss you without messing up your lipstick.”

  Okay, now there’s a pick up line I’ve never heard before. I should ignore him, I want to, but Lu is watching with heated interest and I can’t help it, I really want to hear the punch line.

  “Really, how?” I challenge, and fold my arms across my chest.

  He leans down, and catching me by surpri
ses presses his lips to mine. He pulls back and his lips are cherry red.

  I jerk back in my chair. “What the—”

  “I lied,” he said, and wipes his finger over his lips.

  I’m about to kick him in the shins when the sound of the door banging open startles me. My heart leaps as I spin, and the entire bar seems to go quiet as Jack enters, his gaze latches on me, then slides to the jerk who just kissed me without my permission. I almost want to pinch myself, to make sure I’m not seeing things.

  Bad boy written all over him, Jack stalks across the room—rugged, dangerous, sexy—his boots thudding with each determined step, and my entire body awakens at the sight of him. He’s even more intense, more beautiful that I remember him. Longing and need race through me, and in a heartbeat I know waiting for him was the best decision I’ve ever made in my life.

  Deep in my soul I know we’re meant to be together and Lu was right. It’s time I show him that I’m all grown up, and I’m his. I always have been.

  I take in the hard lines of his profile as he scans the establishment, his eyes a cold calculating blue as he zeroes in the jerk beside me as the guy searches for a chair, completely oblivious to the fact that Jack is about to pound him into the ground.

  The guy and his friend sit, and shimmy close. Lu’s eyes are wide, fully aware of the shitstorm that’s about to blow through the bar. Jack stops at our table and assesses the situation.

  His look is tormented when his gaze lands back on me, and sexual tension arcs between us, still so powerful that I’m sure everyone in the room can feel it.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  My heart pounds as I stare at him, watch his fingers clench and unclench again. God, he is so perfect, everything I’ve ever wanted. “I am now,” I say when I see the need in his eyes.

  He wants me today ever bit as much as he did all those years ago.

  “These guys bothering you?” he snarls like a rabid dog ready to take down its prey.

  I give a quick shake of my head. “No, they’re with Lu.”

  He stares at me a second longer, then turns to Lu for confirmation. She nods, but the guy who kissed me opens his mouth to counter—at least I think that’s what he’s about to do. I drive my high heel into his foot to stop him, and he shuts up. I really don’t want any trouble tonight. He might have given me an unwanted kiss, but none of that matters now. No, all that matters is that Jack is looking at me the same way he did all those years ago.

  I stand, and Jack hovers close. “You’re not in any kind of trouble?” he asks, his brows pulled tight with worry.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “The text.”

  “Lu sent it.”

  He exhales, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “So you cried wolf, then?”

  I poke him. “The only wolf in this place is you, Jack.”

  He stares at me, a bevy of emotions tearing through his hard gaze. He grips my elbow and pulls me against him. My shoes make me tall and our groins clash. I move against him, feel what it does to him. A low growl rumbles in his throat as warm familiarity arcs between us.

  “If you weren’t in trouble, then why did you text your safe word?” He envelops me in his strong arms, and I breathe in his familiar scent. Leather, clean soap, and Jack. Need and want swirl around me, until my knees almost give way. Bombarded with desire a million times more powerful then when I was a teen, I put my hand on his chest and splay my fingers.

  “Why were you watching me, today?” I ask instead of answering, and my question does something to him. He curses under his breath, and breaks the connection. As I watch him retreat physically and emotionally, I want to cry, to take back my words.

  “Jack,” I say and reach for him. My hand connects with his and a need gathers in the pit of my stomach. It’s a need unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

  “Come on,” he says. “I’ll take you home.”

  I look at Lu and she gives me a nod and mouths the words, “Show him.”

  4

  Jack

  I steal a glimpse of the beautiful woman beside me as I drive her home, the traffic light this time on a Friday night. There is no denying that I want her. On top of me. Beneath me. Bent over a bed for me. Fuck, man, I want a lot of things. A lot of things I can’t have. As I approach her condo, she turns her head to see me. Her gaze moves over my face, her eyes questioning, and I give myself a quick consultation to get my head on right.

  “How do you know where I live?” she asks.

  I turn from her before she can see the want in my eyes. “I just do.”

  “Because you’ve been watching me?”

  “Yes,” is all I say and that makes her go quiet again.

  She stares out the window and I try to breathe in through my mouth as her sweet scent saturates the cab of my truck. Warm honey and rich vanilla. Christ, I’ve never been able to get the scent of her skin out of my head.

  I pull into her driveway and kill the ignition. She doesn’t move. Neither do I. Instead I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, and summon ever ounce of control I can muster. I plan to walk her to her door, but I have to stop myself from going in. Layla in a house with a bed nearby, well, I might as well put a bullet in my head right now. Not being able to toss her on it and have my way with her will surely kill me.

  “Jack,” she begins, and I pull the keys from the ignition and open my door before does or says something I can’t say no to.

  “I’ll walk you to your door,” I say as I climb out.

  I circle the cab, and cup her elbow when she slides from her seat. Crickets chirp and a horn sounds in the distance as I walk her up the three steps leading to her door. She fishes her keys from her pocket and I take them from her and slide the right one into the lock.

  I push open her door, and she stands there for a moment. “Would you like to come in?”

  Fuck yeah.

  “No,” I say, and make a move to leave. But before I do, she puts her hand on my chest, a familiar habit, and swipes her tongue over her bottom lip.

  Kill me, fucking now.

  “Layla—”

  “I’m sorry for crying wolf,” she says. “I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything important.”

  I shake my head. I’m not about to tell her I was tending to her drunk mother—again. She knows all too well what that’s like and doesn’t need that kind of shit in her life.

  “No, I was just hanging out with the guys.”

  Her hand goes to the top button on her blouse—a silent invitation—and my dick throbs.

  Walk away, dude.

  I dip my head, and once again her sweet vanilla scent overwhelms me. “It was kind of naughty of me to cry wolf like that,” she says softly, her voice wrapping around my cock and tugging urgently.

  “Yeah,” I say. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Maybe if I had been disciplined when I was younger I wouldn’t do naughty things.”

  My mind instantly races back to the night she’d taken the coolers. She’d asked me if I’d like to put her over my knee that night and discipline her. I spent years playing that sexy scenario out in my mind’s eye.

  “Maybe.” Fuck, is that my voice?

  She turns around, and leans over the metal railing, her sweet ass in the air, daring me…taunting me to the point of no return. Complicating my fucking mission to stay away.

  “Layla,” I growl and as my blood runs south, the one working brain cell warning me to walk away from this. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were going to discipline me,” she says innocently as she glances at me over her shoulder “If you don’t want to…”

  Walk away, Jack. End this right now.

  “I never said that,” I growl, struggling to ignore the heat arcing between us.

  She grins and wets her bottom lip again, like she’s won this battle, and gives a little shake to her ass as she repositions herself, wai
ting for the smacks to come.

  I step into her, close but not touching, wanting noting more than to grind my hard cock against her lush ass. A rush of sexual energy hits like a the butt of a gun to the head, and the air around us charges. I steal a glance around her neighborhood. All is quiet, and with heavy clouds hanging low in the sky—threatening to burst open—it’s too dark for anyone to see us. I could slide my cock into her hot pussy right here and no one would be the wiser.

  Stop it!

  She grips the hem of her skirt, and slowly slides it upward, until it passes the curvy swell of her ass. I can barely see straight as she tortures me, knowing just how to push all my buttons. I work to bank my desires but my cock refuses to cooperate.

  “Fuck,” I whisper under my breath when I find her in a thong. It slides into the sweet crevice of her ass, and steals the breath from my lungs. “You really are going to be the death of me.”

  She writhes, and I dip my head, tantalized by the sight and wanting a better glimpse of her pink sweetness.

  What are you doing, dude? This is Layla!

  I need to end this. Now.

  I reach out to pull her skirt back down, but when I do, my hand touches her soft flesh. A groan I have no control over crawls out of my throat. Fire licks over my thighs and my cock grows another inch—until it’s a goddamn missile ready for takeoff.

  Fuck me.

  “Layla…” I whisper, my control melting like a Popsicle on a hot summer’s day. I touch her, and the heat from her flesh zings though my body, making me so goddamn needy, I’m sure it would take at least fifteen men from the precinct to pull me off—and then some.

  I want her. I want her so fucking bad. Have for so many years now.

  “Take me,” she whispers. “I’m all yours, Jack. I’ve always been yours.” Her words zap that last working brain cell and I cup both of her cheeks and massage gently. “Yes,” she murmurs and tips her ass up even more, offering every bit of herself to me.

  How can I fucking say no to that?

  As rational though shuts down, I grip her hips for leverage, and push my dick against her ass, grinding hard, and denying myself nothing. Want, need and lust—far too many years in the making—rule my actions. My vision fades, nothing existing but this woman and what I want to do to her.