DOMINIC

When the Commissioner advised me that I’d have someone tagging along for two damn days with me, in office and out on patrol, I won’t deny it—I wasn’t fucking thrilled, and I let my distaste be known.

So, imagine my surprise when Ms. Kent—someone I expect to be twenty years older and a hell of a lot less enticing—shows up at my door, camera bag slung over her leather jacket, paired with a purple above-knee pencil skirt and a shade of red lipstick that practically begs me to kiss her pouty lips.

I’d had to shift my position to ease the ache I felt between my legs when she said, “I’m ready when you are.”

I’ll bet you are. It’d been on the tip of my tongue.

I would have to be careful. She’s beautiful, fantasy inducing, and intriguing enough to turn me into a Human Resources nightmare.

Then, I’d watched as her jaw went slack as she took in my appearance. I wasn’t offended; almost everyone who entered my office looking for Chief Kerr did a double-take when they saw me. At twenty-eight, I’m the youngest police chief the New York Police Department has ever had, and I’m also the least likely to ever be deemed typical. Between the tattoos and the single earrings I wear in both ears, I’m more likely to be mistaken for a criminal than the cop that’s running the precinct.

About the only thing that is typical when it comes to the fact that I’m a cop is my love of coffee. The stronger, the better. And as I pull up to the drive-thru window, I cast a glance over to the passenger seat. “Ms. Kent? You want anything?”

She hesitates, and at first I think she’s going to tell me she doesn’t drink the stuff. Well, shit, maybe she’s not perfect after all.

“Extra-large, two milk, one sugar,” she states. “Please.”

That’s my girl.

We get our coffees and proceed on with our day. Every now and then, she slides her paper cup into the cup holder of the door and picks up her camera with it’s big-ass lens. Whether I’m calling in to dispatch, scanning the graffitied sidewalks for anything suspicious, or flipping the sirens on and chasing down a speeding vehicle, the faint click of her camera is heard beside me.

She takes it all in, but never says a word.

I’ve never minded silence, and some silences don’t need to be filled. But there’s something different evoked from the silence that comes from the words she doesn’t speak. Something that I want to know more about. Something she possibly doesn’t want me to know.

It’s my job to pick up on these kinds of things, and right now, my inner radar is going off loudly in my head. “So, you from around here?”

“Nope.”

Okay, so it’s a dead-end question. My bad. I try again. “Where are you from, then?”

“Nowhere you’ve heard of, Chief Kerr.” She holds up her camera and snaps a picture of the dashboard gadgets before checking the digital display to see how it turned out.

I knew damn well she was doing it just so she didn’t have to concentrate on me.

“Not much of a talker, are you, Ms. Kent?”

She huffs a sigh, lowering her camera into her lap. “Call me Addison, please. This Ms. Kent crap makes me sound like some kind of fifty-something librarian.”

What I wouldn’t give to see her as a sexy little librarian.

“So, you can talk…Addison.” Even her name is sexy, and it feels luxurious and seductive on my tongue. I shift in my seat again. Fuck, if she lives up to half the thoughts I’m having about her right now…

“I’m just trying to do my job, Chief K—”

“Dominic.”

She stares at me as though I’m speaking a foreign language.

“If you’re going to insist I call you by your first name, then I’ll have to insist on the same. It’s Dominic. Or Dom. Whichever you prefer.” Hardly anyone ever calls me Dominic, so I know which choice I’d prefer, but I’m interested to see which variation she chooses.

“Fine. But, like I said, Dominic, I’m just here to do my job.”

I have to stop the satisfied moan I can feel threatening to erupt from my mouth. If saying her name is sexy as hell to me, then hearing her utter mine is going to be my undoing.

“And that’s quite all right, but you don’t have to avoid small talk all together in order to do your job, do you? I’ve got a feeling you’re a smart girl and can handle multitasking with the best of ‘em,” I tease, casting a quick sideways glance in her direction.

“Does being a jerk come naturally to you?” Addison’s eyes narrow.

“Why are you pretending to be the evil stepsister, Cinderella?” I can’t deny it. I’m goading her, and purely for fun. Just to see what makes her tick.

“Who says I’m pretending?”

I pull the cruiser up to a red light, and stop. Using the moment to focus squarely on her, I turn to face her and lean in closely. My lips are dangerously close to her ear, close enough that she’ll definitely feel the heat of my breath against her skin, but not close enough to actually touch her. “Prince Charming always knows the difference between Cinderella and the evil stepsister, Addison.”

I pull away, not even trying to hide my grin now.

“Asshole,” she mutters again, before turning away to stare out the passenger side window.

But I can see the heat flaming in her cheeks, and the wave of satisfaction that rolls through me is probably bigger than it should be.

“Twice in the first few hours of meeting,” I say jovially. “That might be a new record.”