by Madison Faye
I was so wrapped up in watching, in fact, that I never even heard the car pull up behind me, never heard the two doors opening and quietly closing, or the footsteps walking towards my side of the car.
"Well, well, twice in one day, miss?”
I about jumped out of my skin as I yanked my hand from my pussy and jerked my head around to my side window.
It was both of them, the blond and the dark-haired cops.
And they looked pissed.
"Out of the car, miss. Now."
7
Dustin
"Officer! I—”
“I said OUT. Now,” I growled, reaching out, unlatching her door, and swinging it open.
I froze.
When we’d spotted Samantha’s car — well Maria’s car, I guess — parked out front of the house we were surveilling, the plan was—
Well, in truth, there was no plan, we’d just acted like a single mind when we’d seen her. I wasn’t sure what we’d been thinking we’d do, but I know I spoke on impulse when I’d stepped up to the car to see her peering through binoculars at the house. It was the same “gruff bad cop” voice I’d used before when we pulled her over.
Maybe I was expecting that wide-eyed blush again, or maybe a smile. Maybe I wanted to see if she remembered us, or if her eyes would light up again like when I’d had her bent over the front of her car.
What neither of us were expecting was that when we stepped up to that car, we’d see Samantha Caraway with her hand buried between her thighs and a low moan on her lips.
Yeah, not expecting that by a fucking mile.
And so, when I yanked her door open, we both froze, our bodies going rigid as we stared at her staring up at us, those big blue eyes like deer in headlights and that guilty blush across her face.
"Well, well, well…” I whistled lowly, my pulse jumping inside of my chest, my cock thickening to steel in my pants as Samantha quickly jerked her hand away from her panties. I dragged my fingers across my stubble, my eyes hungrily drinking it all in.
Shit.
I’d already crossed one line with her, when I’d done that ridiculously unnecessary pat down on the side of the road. And now? Seeing her like this?
Well fuck, now I knew I was going to be stepping over that line again, in a very big way.
"Having a nice time out here by yourself tonight?”
She blushed furiously at Blake’s words, her eyes darting down. Quickly, she smoothed her skirt down over her thighs, hand clasping together as her eyes darted to the binoculars sitting on the seat next to her.
And then, as if on cue, the soft lilting giggle of a woman’s voice came tinkling through the dusky twilight from the Santiago house, followed by some pathetic-sounding male grunts.
Blake and I glanced at each other; suddenly what was going on here sunk in. Blake’s brow twitched in that way it did when he was fighting back his demons — in the way that I knew meant my friend was wrestling with his own control.
Fuck, I was too, with Samantha sitting there in that tiny skirt, that white bikini top, and that very guilty blush on her face. I also felt bad for her, though. I mean, shit, a girl like Samantha did not deserve the shit Tim was putting her through, or would put her through when he went to trial.
Her eyes darted back to us, and this time, they lingered. This time, she bit her bottom lip in her teeth, and that same fiercely hungry look we’d seen before came flashing back to her face.
She was embarrassed, for sure, but there was something else there, something wild, and something begging for more. She swallowed thickly, her eyes dipping down over us, and I swear to God, they lingered on the probably-obviously bulges at the front of both our uniforms.
And she licked her fucking lips.
Fuck.
I felt my hands clench into fists, my pulse racing faster and faster. We’d pushed things too far when we’d pulled her over, and when I put my hands on her. But hell, we’d pushed things too far when they’d put us two on surveillance duty on her. Because for a month now, my friend and I had been slowly obsessing over this girl. For a month now, we’d been watching her, and seeing how fucking incredible she was, and learning how damn perfect she was.
For a month now, we’d been falling for the girl it was our job to watch.
We’d never said it out loud, even to each other. But I knew we’d both been feeling it, and what’s more, we both knew the other was feeling it. I remembered a few weeks before, when we’d gone out to hit the bars together — something Blake still did, even sober. It was sort of his whole “face your demons head on and tell them to get fucked” approach to sobriety. We’d just come off a thirty-six-hour shift of watching Sam, and it may have been the first day when two things clicked for both of us.
One, that she was becoming more than an obsession — more than just a hot girl we got to watch. In fact, she was becoming WAY more than that.
The second thing that clicked for us that night was that she was and never ever possibly could be ours. Not ever, and that stung.
We’d gone out cruising that night, our blood pumping hot from Samantha, our desires focused on one fucking thing. We’d chatted plenty of girls up that night — I mean, without being vain, two guys who looked like us didn’t exactly have a hard time chatting women up in bars. We were also pretty quick to make our, I guess you could say “team intentions” pretty clear to the girls we got talking to. Some looked scandalized, of course, but the ones whose interest got piqued?
Oh, they stayed.
Blake and I had shared plenty of women over the years — actually, it sort of became our thing, I guess. We’d even tried dating the same girls, usually to disastrous results — usually from the girl freaking out or not being able to handle it. That night though, we’d gone out hungry for something immediate and temporary.
Except we had a problem: none of the girls we’d chatted up, or grinned charming smiles at, or whose hands trailed up our arms, or whose knowing bedroom eyes batted at us were her.
None of them were Samantha.
We’d even found one that sort of looked like her — similar hair, and similar body, but it just wasn’t there. She’d flat out asked us to come out to her car with her, telling us she “couldn’t wait” to know what it felt like to have two guys filling her up “everywhere.”
We’d smiled, bought her one more drink, and walked away.
That’s what Samantha Caraway did to us.
And now here she was, looking at us with those fierce, hungry eyes, like I’d actually dreamed about.
We’d both dreamed about seeing that look in her eyes directed at us, and right then, I could feel both of our willpowers shattering.
“Wait here,” I growled at her, before snagging Blake’s arm and yanking him away with me.
“You’re slipping,” I hissed at him, our backs to Samantha. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“Oh, fuck you, you’re slipping too,” he shot back, his biceps flexing as he swallowed down the heat from his face.
“You know what she was doing when we—”
“Yeah, I know, man.”
We glanced at each other.
“What’s the move here,” I growled.
“The move is to get the fuck out of here,” Blake groaned back. “The move is to leave this be and forget we ever talked to her today.”
“Fuck,” I swore, my mind reeling, as if being this close to her was having some sort of drugging effect on me. “Okay, let’s just—”
“Officers? Can I just expl—”
Blake and I both whirled at the sound of her voice from right behind us. But then, we hadn’t expected her to be right behind us.
Samantha gasped, tumbling backwards as the force of both of us turning right into her started to knock her back. Both of us exploded into action on impulse, lurching out to catch her and yank her close.
And time froze.
Because suddenly, we were standing in the southern California twilight, with Samantha fucki
ng Caraway in our arms.
The skin of her bare back pulsed hot under my fingers, her small hand gripping my rippling forearm tightly. She was doing the same to Blake, and her eyes went wide as they darted between us.
We were all so close — so close we could feel the heat from her body, and hear the way her breath gasped as it caught in her throat.
And right there, I knew we’d been wrong.
Yeah, we weren’t going to “get the fuck out of here” or “forget we’d ever talked to her.”
We weren’t going anywhere, with that angel in our arms.
I glanced at Blake, and he glanced at me. Our eyes narrowed, our jaws tightened, and I watched as both of our willpowers concerning Samantha Caraway finally crumbled to dust.
We’d denied ourselves for too long.
And we were done holding back.
8
Samantha
“What did I say about finding you in this car again?"
I gasped, my pulse jumping in my breast at the sudden growling nature of the blond cop’s voice. His hand tightened on my much smaller body, and I gasped a second time as he suddenly spun me around and pushed me hard up against the side of the convertible. Both of them pressed me against the hot metal and held me there tightly as they leaned in close.
“Playing with your naughty little pussy while spying on some nice couple on their own private property, hmm?" The blond-haired guy’s coarse words caught me totally off-guard, and yet sparked something wild in me as he growled into my ear.
Suddenly, he sniffed, and his face went dark.
“Do I smell wine on your breath?”
I felt the floor drop out from under me. Oh my God, this was about to go from bad to worse.
"Drinking, while in a stolen car, and we also get to throw lewd and indecent public exposure into the mix, huh?”
I felt my blood run cold, and my body trembled as I realized that it didn’t quite matter what I said right then, the circumstantial evidence was enough to get me in a lot of trouble.
“Officer, I—”
The dark-haired guy grinned darkly at me as they spun me around against the side of the convertible, bending me across the hood. I gasped as I suddenly felt metal going around my wrists.
“Whoa! You can’t just—”
"We can't just what, miss? Arrest you? Yeah, actually we can." The dark-haired cop growled at me. “The boys down at the station are going to love you.”
A cold feeling washed over me — jail!?
"Wait! Wait! Hang on!" My hands were firmly cuffed behind my back as I leaned into the car, and I knew they could see my thong pulled tight up against my pussy peeking out from under my short skirt.
And fuck was I wet.
I was almost horrified to admit it to myself, but I was also wildly turned on by the two big, muscled, hunky cops cuffing my wrists and bending me over like that. Just like before, when the dark-haired one had patted me down, I felt my pulse hammering in my ears and my body responded to the filthy-wrong hotness of the situation.
“Officers! Please! It’s—” I swallowed heavily as they spun me around, my ass against the car and my chest heaving. “That’s my fiancé in there with…with her. Well, ex-fiancé,” I spat out.
The two of them stopped for a second, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see the dark-haired guy glance at his partner and smirk. “Sounds like we might have a case of jealous, scorned lover here, Blake.”
The blond guy — Blake, apparently — sighed and shook his head. “Definitely. We should probably check her for possible weapons, Dustin.”
His hands grabbed my hips without warning, and I gasped as I felt myself spun back around and bent over the back of the car. Blake suddenly dropped down to his knees behind me, and I felt a shiver run through me as I felt his hands on the backs of my bare thighs. Slowly, he started to feel my smooth, creamy legs, starting at my calves and slowly working his way up.
Oh my God, were they seriously patting me down again?
My head spun, but at the same time, the desire I couldn’t even begin to ignore spiked through me like a shot, making my toes curl and my core tighten. I could feel the pulsing heat between my legs, my heart pumping faster as one hunky cop slid his hands up my thighs while his partner held me firmly against the car.
And I was so wet.
Horribly, toe-curlingly, dripping wet.
Looking back, I’m not totally sure how it got to that, but sure enough, as Blake’s hands moved up my legs, his face close to the backs of my thighs, I could just feel my pussy start to get wetter and wetter. His hands pushed my skirt up high, almost all the way over my ass, and my face went bright red.
I knew he could see how fucking wet I was. Hell, he could probably smell how turned on the rough way they were treating me was getting me.
I felt him pause, his hands around my naked thighs, and then he chuckled. “Dustin, looks like she might be hiding something here.”
I heard the dark-haired guy — Dustin — growl darkly into my ear, sending a pulsing shock right down to my pussy. “Is that a fact, huh? I better take a look too then.”
I groaned as I felt him kneel beside the first guy, both of them staring right at my soaking wet panties clinging like a soft white second skin as they molded wetly against my lips.
A hand came swatting down on my almost bare ass, making me gasp and jerk against the side of the car.
“Spread those legs miss,” one of them growled.
I groaned again, my face going bright red as I felt their hands start to pull my legs wider. And I knew this was wrong — I knew there was no way this was okay for them to be doing. But at the same time, every part of me wanted them to keep going. Every part of me screamed for them to take me right there and do whatever they wanted with me.
I moaned at the thought, biting my lip as I felt their hands pull at my legs.
“Shit, you mean this?”
I gasped. Strong fingers slid against the soaking wet center of my panties, making my breath hitch and my body shiver. The fingers slipped up and down the wet groove there, pressing the soaking wet cotton against my dripping slit and making me arch against the side of the car.
I could hear the gruff voice of Dustin, the dark-haired cop. “Yeah, looks like she’s hiding something all right. Probably a concealed weapon of some kind.”
I groaned deeply as I felt him begin to push his fingers harder against my slit, pushing the soaking wet fabric of my panties in between my lips.
“I suppose we should show her what a real weapon looks like, shouldn’t we?” It was Blake’s voice, and I could hear him standing up behind me.
“Definitely.” His partner chuckled, standing as well.
I was panting heavily standing there against the convertible, and I could feel my pulse start to race faster and faster, my pussy getting wetter and wetter as I felt the two big men stand up behind me.
I could hear the jangle of holster belts and buckles behind me, and then the obvious sound of zippers being drawn down.
Holy fuck.
Part of me knew I could stop this. Part of me knew I could say something, and tell them this had gone too far, and I knew they’d stop.
It was the other part of me though that told the first part to keep its fucking mouth shut.
Because I didn’t want them to stop. This was insane, and nothing remotely close to anything I’d ever in a million years thought about doing. I mean I was handcuffed, and bent over a stolen car, with the two hottest men I’d ever even seen putting their hands on me, teasing my soaking wet pussy, and promising to do all sorts of wicked, filthy things to me.
And maybe the me from yesterday, the me that was still willing to bottle everything up and pretend all the wrong in her life could be ignored, would have stopped this. Maybe that version of me would have shook her head, told them flat out to get their hands off of me, and gone on with her boring existence with her scummy, cheating fiancé and her adventure-less life.
�
�Good thing I wasn’t that girl anymore, not after I’d seen that text.
Because now, I was a new me, and the new Samantha was going to live life to the fullest, say what was on her mind, and do what she wanted. And what I wanted right then was to let go. I wanted to let go of the old me, and part of me that was unsure about this. And what I wanted the most was for these two hot, gorgeous men to make me feel what I hadn’t felt in a long time — desired, sexy, and wanted.
And I wanted it right now.
“You going to arrest me or what, you pigs?”
They froze, and I felt my chest seize up.
Shit, had I just taken it way too far? My brow furrowed, and I chewed on my lip as I suddenly worried that I’d gone farther than I should have.
And then I heard them chuckle.
I started to grin, but I suddenly gasped as I felt a powerful hand smack down across my ass with a sharp crack, making me cry out.
“I think someone’s resisting,” Dustin’s voice growled in my ear.
“I think someone’s begging for some excessive force,” Blake’s equally gruff voice rumbled into my other ear, making me moan as the tingle teased through my body.
“Yes,” I whispered out, panting as I felt both cops gripping my ass firmly.
“You want it, you better ask nicely for it,” Dustin whispered darkly into my ear, and I moaned loudly as his fingers slid between my legs and over my soaked panties.
“Please,” I panted, arching my back and feeling the last of my reservation scatter to the wind.
Blake spanked me again, making me moan as I felt his partner’s fingers slide up and down the lips of my pussy.
“We’ve waited a long time for this, you know,” Blake growled into my ear, his palm sliding and smoothing over my tender ass. “And we won’t be denied anymore.”
I shivered.
“On your knees, miss,” he whispered into my ear. “Now.”