Chapter One: Detective Daniel Dutton

Sometimes it was hard being an undercover cop.

Sometimes it was harder than others.

Like now, for instance.

It was hard as a rock.

“Jesus, you’re good at that,” I sighed, sucking the night air in quickly through my gritted teeth. My head clunked back against the dirty brick wall I was leaning against. I barely felt it because all the sensation in my body had pooled in my cock. The girl’s tongue was hot and wet, hotter than the sweltering night air. It slid over my salty flesh like warm butter.

I felt like I was melting, she was that good. My knees felt like they might dissolve, just puddle onto the ground, leaving my body to flounder in the cesspool of stink and rot and filth that filled this back alley.

The thumping bass of the music inside the dive bar matched the pounding of my heart as the girl—what was her name again?—sucked the head of my cock, teasing and tasting my sweaty flesh like a refreshing Popsicle. Even the sounds she made had me thinking of yummy summer treats.

Devouring slices of watermelon.

Sucking a straw full of thirst-quenching lemonade.

Licking at those snow cones I used to get as a kid.

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face, and as I wiped it away, she gulped my cock all the way down her throat. I lost all thought after that. I ignored the snickers from some partiers passing the alley. I forgot about the scrape of my head against the brick. I stopped caring about the mosquitos buzzing around my face. My cock was held in a warm vise, being massaged and caressed by the smooth column of her throat and tongue, drawing out drops of precum, which she eagerly swallowed.

That tiny movement made me grit my teeth. The sensation was too good to give up. I refused to come. My greedy cock wanted more.

Danny O’Shea, underworld bad boy, had a reputation to uphold in this shitty town. There was no way I was gonna blow my load this quick, not knowing that this dame would spread the news of our encounter like wildfire, either furthering my reputation of a bad boy with a big cock or as a shit head who couldn’t hold back his cum for more than five minutes.

I lived and died by my reputation, my legend, the other cops called it.

There was no way one amazing blowjob was going to ruin that.

I slid my fingers through her sweaty blonde hair and pulled her closer, ramming my cock even farther into the tight recesses of her mouth. She responded by clutching my ass and clinging tighter, trying to take every inch, and that did it.

My body tensed then shuddered and I couldn’t help but moan. I erupted like a kinked firehose that had been twisted free, shooting so much cum down her throat I couldn’t imagine how she swallowed it all. My cock jerked and lunged to the beat of the music coming through the open door, but that didn’t stop this girl. She kept on sucking and licking, her mouth a siphon, drawing out every drop I had in my body until I had nothing more to give.

She released my cock with a little pop from her lips. I glanced down to see some drops of cum glistening at the corner her mouth. Without hesitation, she wiped her lips with one finger and stuck it into her mouth with a smile.

I let go of her shoulders, then stepped back to run my hands through my hair, pushing the sweat back through the long locks, plastering it to my head. A cool shower was in order, but of course that wasn’t on my agenda tonight. At least not yet. For now, I had other plans.

“I think I owe you a drink,” I said as I glanced down at her. Her hand was still holding my now withering cock. She was caressing it lovingly.

“Just a drink?” she asked coyly, gazing up with luminous green eyes that practically glowed in the sputtering light above the door. Her fake eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. “Aren’t you gonna let me ride that big thing tonight, Danny?” She pulled my cock to its full flaccid length. It twitched in response.

I smiled and tugged a strand of her hair to get her attention. I loved blowjobs as much as the next guy, but I didn’t have time to sample all of this girl’s talents, at least not tonight.

“I’d love that, doll, but I’ve gotta see a guy about a job.”

“I just gave you a job,” she said.

“Sorry, not tonight.”

“Fine,” she said with a pouty smile. She planted one last kiss on the tip of my cock and let it go. I stuffed it back into my jeans before she opted to try again.

“Rain check then,” she said as she got off her knees. She tugged her tight red mini dress down to cover her ass. It was a nice ass, and she was probably a nice girl, but I never dated any girl who hung out in dive bars and gave blowjobs in a back alley. Not good for my wellbeing or survival. It wouldn’t pay for anyone to put together that Danny O’Shea, bad boy renegade and criminal opportunist, was actually Detective Daniel Dutton, Vice Division, Chicago P.D.

I zipped up my jeans then dug in my pocket for some money. I held out a twenty.

Another pout. Her cherry lipstick was smeared all over her mouth. Not a good look for her. She plucked the money from my fingers.

“I was hoping we could at least have a drink together,” she said softly as she caressed the money over her face.

“No can’t do, sweetheart. Not tonight.”

“Are you sure?” She took a step toward me, but I held up my hands. Man, this chick didn’t know when to quit. I wasn’t used to women not taking no for an answer. I gave her a firm look and shook my head.

“Maybe another night,” I said. “Like I said, I’ve gotta see a guy about a job.”

She shoved the money into her swollen cleavage. Nice tits to go with that tight ass. Still, a skank was a skank. I could never take her home to meet Pops, or my siblings—all seven of them in the tradition of good Irish folks—would have a field day with this girl, although my brother Paddy would have tapped that ass in a New York minute.

“I thought you really liked me, Danny,” she said, trying to sound hurt. Her voice had taken on an annoying, whining tone, and that did it. I needed her gone. No blowjob out there was worth putting up with a whining woman.

I dug in my pocket and yanked out another twenty. What difference did it make? I was going to expense it anyway. Her eyes brightened, and her lashes fluttered in her excitement as she held out her hand.

The crash inside the bar came right on cue, and a beer bottle came flying through the door to smash against the opposite wall of the alley. She flinched and ducked as she glanced toward the open door.

Inwardly, I smiled. Things were progressing right on cue.

Another bottle hurtled through the door, hitting the dumpster and shattering into glistening shards. A body spilled into the alley and rolled several feet to land in the glass.

The girl snatched the money from my hand, and stuffed it into her cleavage with the other bill. “Gotta go before the cops get here. See ya soon, Danny. My pussy will be hot and ready when you are.”

“Good to know,” I said. “Now, scram.”

She could run fast in those five-inch stilettos. I took a moment to watch her ass flex and shake as she rounded the corner onto the sidewalk, then rubbed my hands together and took a deep breath.

“It’s show time, folks,” I said.

I headed into the Rack ’Em Up Bar to begin tonight’s act two in the life as Dirty Danny O’Shea.