Today literally kicked my ass. Ever since I pulled KJ over for speeding – I’ve been distracted.
I don’t know why I didn’t recognize her immediately. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that her hair was a few shades darker and longer, the large sunglasses on her face– or that the body I’d memorized a year ago had matured even more if that was possible. KJ now rocked gorgeous curves – which I wanted the chance to explore. The minute I had her body pressed against mine, I knew exactly who she was.
I didn’t need Smitty to mention her name. It all clicked.
In typical Rhys fashion, I had to go and make things worse by writing her a ticket. I could have let her go, but I felt like she deserved some type of punishment for walking out of that hotel without a trace. At least now, I had her information at my disposal.
Her friends were pissed when KJ walked away from me, but they rewarded me for being a Grade A asshole by handing me some sort of gift bag from the back of the car before they shut the trunk and climbed back inside.
Tossing my glasses on my desk, I run my hands over my face.
I swapped my contacts for the specs around what should have been dinner time. I couldn’t take anymore, and they’d started to dry out on me.
Fucking paperwork.
My vision blurred as I stared down at the report in front of me, combing over every detail. Making sure everything was documented and wracking my brain, praying that I didn’t forget something. Even the tiniest of facts could make or break an entire situation. I didn’t want to fuck it up and leave anything out.
The last thing I wanted to do today after my run in with my past was get tangled up in a SWAT situation, but it happened, and now I need to make sure my details were in order.
“Mitchell,” my captain’s voice calls out from behind me.
Spinning in my chair, I turn to face him. “Yes, Sir.”
“Go home. You’ve been at it long enough. Sleep. Start fresh Monday.”
“Sir,” I hesitate.
“I wasn’t asking. Go home. Eat. Sleep. Have fun over your three-day weekend and we’ll see you on Monday. We all want the same thing here, but you’re no good to us if you fall asleep at your desk.”
Blowing out a breath, I relent. “Alright, Cap. I’ll see ya later, I guess.”
He gives me a nod and steps back into his office.
I put my glasses back on and grab my wallet and service weapon from my desk drawer and lock up. Once my computer shuts down–I’m ready to go. Suddenly sleep doesn’t sound so bad.
Food sounds pretty amazing right now too. Tonight, I’ll be grabbing something to eat on the way home. The fatigue has hit me out of nowhere, and if I don’t pick something up to eat, I’ll end up crashing as soon as I walk through my front door.
At least, I hoped that would be the case, but the bag sitting on my passenger seat taunts me as soon as I climb inside my cruiser.
Like I hadn’t already dealt with enough shit today, I had to run into the one person that haunted my dreams.
Shaking my head, I pulled out my cell phone and called in an order at Applebee’s before pulling out of my parking spot. A burger and fries sounds perfect. And they’ll even bring it out to the car for me.
It’s less than ten minutes from the station to the restaurant. No sooner than when I slip the car in park, my favorite waitress comes out to greet me.
Piper grins as she hands me my order. “Hey, Rhys. $13.74 is your total.”
“Thanks, Piper,” I say with a smile. “How you doing?” It’s a heartfelt question. With her older brother and my good friend, Peyton, on army duty in Germany, it’s my responsibility to check up on her. That’s what friends did for each other. She probably wouldn’t be so kind to me if she knew that Payton had asked me to keep an eye out for her and that I’d ran off a few of the not so honest boys she was interested in, from time to time.
She’s a good kid and happens to work most nights at one of my favorite restaurants. I know I’ll always get first class service when she’s working. In return, I like to tip her well; which always turns into a protest from her. Doesn’t matter though, I know she’s saving up for college and busting her ass in school. If I can throw a larger than normal tip her way, I will. Every single time.
I pull a fifty-dollar bill from my wallet and hand it to her.
“Rhys,” she grumbles right off the bat.
See, I told you she’d protest. “Piper.” I raise my brow and dare her to challenge me.
“You look tired. Exhausted, really. I’m going on the record and saying that’s the only reason I’m not fighting you on this right now.”
“Good girl, Piper. I’ll try to stop in next week, and we can catch up. Right now, I’m in a hurry, and I want to go home, eat and crash.”
“Shower first, Mitchell, you smell like stinky feet.”
I snicker. “Ooo, good one, Piper. I’ll catch you later kiddo.”
“I’m not a kid!” She calls out over her shoulder, as I put the car in reverse and start backing out.
“You’ll always be Peyton’s kid sister, Piper!”
She tries to discretely flip me the finger before walking back inside the restaurant.
Stifling a yawn, I try hard to ignore my growling stomach, the smell of the warm food filling the cruiser, and the fact that I really want to know what was in the other bag.
It takes me another fifteen minutes until I pull into the driveway at my place. Stepping in the door, I toss my keys on the table in the entryway, lock up behind me.
I drop my food and the gift bag on the coffee table before I wander into my bedroom. Pulling my service weapon from the holster I slip it into the safe inside the drawer on my nightstand, hang my utility belt in the closet and strip out of my uniform. I contemplate for less than a minute about showering now or later. My stomach grumbling makes the decision for me. I slip on a pair of basketball shorts then head back into the living room to crash on the couch and stuff my face.
Before opening the food container, I grab the remote flipping on the TV. As I stuff a fry in my face, I dump the bag from KJ’s friends out on the table in front of me.
The first thing I pick up is a bookmark. K.J. Pierce – New York Times Bestselling Author.
Turning it over in my hand, I shake my head. Like this weekend isn’t going to be awkward enough as it is.
I’ll be back at the same signing where I bumped into KJ for the second time, and we ended up hooking up. This time, I’ll be there as a model, not event security. I’ve got dinner with a reader tomorrow night, a sweet lady who won a contest to ‘date’ the hot cop. One author who put me on a cover invited me to attend a signing with her on Saturday. And Cooper set up a custom shoot for me too with Zoey Daniels the day after the signing.
I didn’t place her name then, but I vaguely recall her face now because she was with KJ.
Fucking hell.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and groan. If I put all the clues together – it’s for this ménage cover Smitty was rattling about earlier.
Hard no.
I like Smitty, he’s a decent friend and partner. Dude has always had my back.
Don’t have anything against ménages, polyamory, or same-sex relationships, either. It’s just not for me. For one thing, I do not share. Never have, never will.
I gotta wonder if Cooper knew about this and didn’t tell me or if he’s going to be just as blindsided by it as I am. He’s been an amazing mentor and friend in this process. I’d like to think the guy would be upfront with me about the details. I can’t continue to think on it though because the bookmark in my hand taunts me, distracting me from my thoughts again.
K.J. Pierce.
The same girl who got under my skin last March.
Fuck.
I still get hard every time I think about her.
Having her for the weekend wasn’t enough – but she vanished the next day, even after I’d asked her to wait. I hoped like hell, for months, that our paths would cross again. But they never did. Looking at her license today explained why. She was from Mobile, Alabama. A four-hour drive, on a good day.
A bookmark, a book, one of those goddamn squishy dicks that fell out of her box of dicks the first time we met, and a mini vibrator, are now laying proudly before me, thanks to KJ’s girlfriends.
I’m gonna guess that she writes some kind of romance. Maybe erotica based on her choice of favors. Either way, it’s not something I’d considered reading, not in a million years.
Except…the couple on the cover looks oddly familiar, and the title has my attention.
Did she really write a book called ‘Hot Cop – Or not’?
I flip the book over and read the synopsis.
‘Away on a girl’s weekend, Leah finds herself in a compromising position with Boomer – a respected police officer on the Leon County police force.’
What the fuck? I nearly choke on the bite of my burger. Swallowing hard, I keep reading.
‘Boomer Jones has only one thing on his mind. Fucking the feisty blonde that he rescued on the side of the road when her car had a flat. When fate has their paths crossing again later the same day, Boomer takes full advantage – making promises about nights of endless pleasure in his bed. But when she wakes the next morning and Boomer’s gone, Leah’s left feeling used and brokenhearted. Swearing off men and relationships for good.
Who says cops are hot? Some of them…are not.
Shit. I don’t know what the hell this nonsense is, but something tells me the little minx has a few tricks up her sleeve.
Flipping the book back over, I open the front cover and flip through the first few pages. When I come to the dedication – I feel like I’ve been sucker punched right in the chest.
’To Tallahassee’s finest officer, who has held the world’s smallest dicks in his hands. You’ve provided me hours of inspiration with your haunting brown eyes and perfectly spiked hair. Thank you.’
If the synopsis wasn’t enough to convince me that this story is in some way related to me–the dedication seals the deal. This woman wrote a book about me.
“All right, Miss KJ, let’s see just how kinky you are.” I take another bite of my dinner and turn the page to start reading the first chapter.
‘Flashing lights behind me, startle me from my internal tantrum. When I turn around, I see that a cop has pulled over behind me. Suddenly, I’m nervous. I look around quickly, trying not to panic. Busy highway, broad daylight...I should be ok. And I should really stop watching scary movies about crazy people stealing police cruisers and murdering stranded motorists.
Deep breath. I’m gonna be fine, I try telling myself.
I watch cautiously as the driver’s side door opens and the officer unfolds his body from the car. My mouth goes dry, and my insides begin to flutter for a totally different reason. I’m no longer nervous that he’s a serial killer, about to murder me. Nope. Instead, I’m thinking I need to stop watching so much porn because now I’m wondering if he’s going to bend me over the trunk of my car and fuck me senseless. On the side of the road. In broad daylight. Because that shit happens in real life, allllll the time.
You can judge me all you want but, I can’t help it. One, I’m a sucker for a man in uniform.
Aren’t we all?
But, two, this guy...he is sex on a stick. He’s got to be at least 6’4”, long, lean, holy fuck, his navy blue uniform shirt is begging for mercy from those killer biceps. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a few days’ worth of stubble on his chiseled face. And he’s totally got the swagger down too.
This cop is HOT.
I’m talking – makes your mouth go dry, feeling the Sahara Desert up in here, HOT.’
Okay, so she thought I was hot then. I can live with that.
I turn the page and keep reading.
‘I’m so distracted by this guy that I barely register when his partner emerges from the passenger side of the cruiser until he’s firmly in my peripheral vision. Then my gaze darts between the two of them.
Oh, fuck me, he’s hot too. Christ. Two hot cops. They must really know how to grow them down here.
My mind is in total overdrive imagining their hands on my body...no. Wait. Stop this. I need to get laid.’
Now, wait just a minute – she thought Smitty was hot too? No. I don’t share what’s mine. And I’m not cool with her crushing on my partner. Fuck.
‘I open the trunk and start moving things around, after admitting I needed help changing the flat. I don’t know why I wasted time putting everything back inside, to begin with. Fuck - I’d have to find a place to put the shredded tire too, without ruining all my stuff for the book signing. I let out a sigh and hoist the box with all my swag in it, out of the back.
And just because today can’t possibly be any worse - I see it all happening in slow motion, the box slips from my grasp and tumbles to the ground before I have a chance to react. Wouldn’t you know it, it falls just right too, the lid comes open, and all my tiny squishy dick stress relievers and the mini vibrators come falling out onto the concrete.
“Nice. A beautiful lady like you couldn’t possibly need things like this to give you pleasure. And if you do, well then you’ve been hanging out with the wrong kind of men.”
I never said that. In fact, I’m damn sure that I demanded she picks them up off the ground before I wrote her a citation for littering. Not my finest moment but it got her attention, not that she actually listened.
Part of me wants to quit reading and toss this book in the trash, but the rest of me wants to know how it ends. So, I flip the page continuing on with the story.
By the time I reach the part where we had sex, I’m ready to kill her. Or fuck her. Perhaps both.
Either way, I want to teach her a lesson and give her a reminder of just how good things were together.
She can’t possibly be serious with this bullshit.
Word by word, I read on as she retells our story.
‘The hotel room door slams shut behind us and Boomer wastes no time stripping our clothes off. He slips inside my waiting heat, and in two minutes it’s all over. Apparently, Officer Boomer knows nothing about self-control.’
Did she really say that our first time together was over before it began? We obviously have two different memories of that night.
I had her body humming and was fully in tune with her every need. I pulled several orgasms from her before finally giving in and finding my own release. Not bragging – that’s a fact. We went all night long. And I would have even fucked her again the next morning had my phone not rang right before I joined her in the shower.
Shit, my cock is rock hard right now, recalling how her body responded to mine.
It wasn’t my fault that things went to hell in a handbasket and duty called.
I keep reading page after page, it’s like a train wreck that I can’t look away from.
KJ’s words are doing nothing for my raging hard-on. I’m absolutely turned on as she describes Leah riding Boomer’s dick, her tits bouncing with each movement. Much how KJ’s tits bounced as I thrust into her from below, while she rode me.
Giving my cock a hard squeeze through my shorts, I let out a moan. No way am I about to jerk off while reading a book. No matter how good the imagery is. No. Just. No.
When the scene ends, I’m tempted to put down the book and, erm, clear my head. But I keep reading to see what happens next.
Her words are nothing like I expected. The underlying hurt that I unintentionally caused her shines through the story. Leah’s character takes a heartbreaking vow of celibacy and shuts herself off before Boomer can redeem himself. I can’t help but wonder if I did that to her or if KJ’s inflated that part too.
She must have thought I would never read this. Or she wrote it hoping I would.
This weekend just got a lot more interesting with this knowledge in my back pocket.