Cop a Feel Page 8

  He was on my front stoop—sitting there and watching my mini-freak with a huge grin on his face. God, he was pretty. I really should go. I did need some groceries and the store wasn’t crowded at this time of night . . . If I got out and talked to him, there was a fine chance I’d strip him and tackle him. That could be embarrassing and illegal if I did it on my front lawn. Choice made—I had to leave.

  Wait.

  This was my house and I was a grown-up. He was trespassing and I’d simply get out of my car and tell him to take a hike. Although he always smelled really good and kissed like a rock star . . . Maybe I’d make out with him just a little bit and then tell him to get lost.

  Stepping out of my car, I stopped. For the first time in what seemed like years, I took a moment to notice my surroundings. Dusk had settled in and there was a slight nip in the air. It smelled like fall, like a high school football game . . . like promise. That stomach tingling feeling that had eluded me in my own high school years rushed at me and made me breathless—the silly wonderful feeling that possibilities were endless. Stars were beginning to twinkle and I bit back the urge to giggle. There was a beautiful boy on the front porch of my quaint little Craftsman house and he wanted me. His motives might be suspect, but his desire was real and so was mine.

  It was time to get gray and messy.

  “Hi,” I said in a voice that sounded far more carefree than mine.

  “I’m sorry, I . . .” Luke started.

  “No.” I put my fingers to his lips and shook my head. “Don’t ruin my buzz.” He laughed and I continued. “I like you. I have no idea why since I hardly know you, but I do. I felt nauseous after I crunched my Go-Phone under my boot when I hung up on you and . . .”

  “You crunched your phone?” he asked, delighted by my violent nature. God that was a turn-on.

  “I did, but that’s not really the point,” I told him, trying to suppress my smile. “The point is, even though I don’t trust you, I want you. So I’ve decided that I’m going to have you. Now.” I expelled a huge breath and waited.

  “Like now now?” he asked. “On your front steps?”

  “Well, I considered it,” I said, moving into his personal space, “but that could be a little uncomfortable and slightly illegal.”

  His breath hitched and everything south of my belly button clenched.

  “Would you like to come in?” I breathed in his clean sexy scent and felt positively giddy.

  “Is the pope Catholic?”

  “As far as I know, but I’m Lutheran.” I giggled and shoved my key into the lock.

  We flew into the house all hands and lips and gasps. For a brief second I wondered if the place was clean and promptly forgot my worry when Luke found the spot on my neck that made me weak.

  “Bedroom?” he asked in a rough voice.

  “Um, I think it’s . . .” Where in the hell did it go? I was lucky I still knew my name. “To the right,” I hissed as his hands made their way under my shirt.

  Without missing a beat, he tossed me over his shoulder and secured me with his hands up my skirt and planted firmly on my ass. I squealed and yanked his T-shirt out of his jeans.

  “Five times,” he groaned as he found my bedroom and slid me down his body. All of my soft molded to all of his hard.

  “Five times what?” I asked as I tore at the buttons on his jeans.

  “I’m gonna make you come five times and then fuck you so hard you won’t be able to see straight.”

  He grabbed me as my knees buckled. No one had ever talked to me like that. Ever . . . and I loved it—so much so that I almost passed out in anticipation.

  “We have to slow down,” he muttered as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a six-pack that rivaled the hottest underwear model in the world. I ran my hands over his beautiful chest. It was covered in a light sprinkling of crisp blond hair that veed down to the opening of his jeans. I knew what was in those jeans and I wanted it bad.

  “Strip,” he demanded in a low voice that soaked my panties. “Slowly.”

  He backed away and watched me under hooded eyes. I slowly unzipped my skirt and shimmied it down my legs. My hands shook as I went to remove the Glock strapped to my inner thigh.

  “Leave it.”

  “Really?” I asked, glancing down at my deadly weapon.

  “God, yes. That’s fucking hot.” Oh. My. God. He was turned on by everything I thought was wrong with me. I was about to have orgasm number one without his even touching me.

  “Oookay.” I giggled and eased my nude thong over my bottom and my gun. “Wait,” I gasped as a horrific flashback invaded my brain. “We can’t do this.”

  “Have sex?” he asked, totally confused.

  “We’re totally having sex,” I shouted. “Just not with my gun anywhere near my ass.” I fumbled with the straps. Shit, it was stuck.

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” Luke laughed as he watched my slow strip morph into a freaked out interpretive dance.

  “I shot myself in the ass,” I snapped, finally loosening the strap. Luke’s stifled bark of laughter annoyed the hell out of me. “It was a new model and it was defective. I stuck it in my back pocket, resulting in my ass getting an extra hole,” I huffed.

  “Sweet.”

  I stopped and realized the story was actually kind of funny now that it was in my past . . . and I grinned. “I suppose you could describe it that way,” I cooed and ran my hands over my bare bottom, transforming the laughter in his eyes to lust. “But quite honestly, I’m looking out for you.”

  “How’s that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall.

  “It’d be a damned shame if that gun went off, missed my ass, and took your man jewels off.”

  “Point,” said a suddenly pale Luke. “Remove the Glock.”

  “I’m on it, big boy.”

  Dammit, now I had a dilemma. How to finish my striptease without revealing the huge jagged red scar on my stomach . . . Turning out the lights would defeat the whole purpose and seem awfully suspicious. Maybe if I turned my back to him and pulled off my shirt and dove onto the bed I could hide it. No . . . but if I turned out the lights after I hit the bed—how in the hell would I do that? I’d have to get up to . . .

  “Candy, face me and take off your shirt.”

  “I can’t,” I whispered. He was so into my tough girl persona and the way I looked, I was terrified for him to see me. My insides were so imperfect, I didn’t want him to know the outside was too.

  “You can and you will,” he said gently. “Do it.”

  I turned and faced him. Why did it bother me so much? Had I not dealt with my wound yet? Was I worried he’d be turned off or was I more concerned that he’d know I wasn’t as good as I pretended to be? Fuck it.

  I removed my boots, shirt, and bra and stood completely naked in front of him. The burning lust in his eyes scared me a little, but it also gave me the confirmation I needed that my scarred body was still beautiful. He moved toward me and dropped to his knees. He reverently ran his fingers over my scar. I closed my eyes and my chest constricted. My breath came in short gasps.

  “This is bad,” he said softly, “but it could have been so much worse.”

  “You should have seen the other guy,” I joked lamely, trying to catch my breath.

  “I did,” he replied. I tried to pull away. He held me fast and feathered his lips over my imperfection. It felt odd. The skin around my scar was still numb, but his lips caused a delightful little tickle sensation that made me shiver.

  “Wait, what do you mean you saw him?” I pulled away when his statement registered in my lust-addled brain.

  “After. All explanations after.”

  I took a deep breath in through my nose and blew it out of my mouth. He was playing by the rules I’d made. I looked down at his dark blond head lying gently on my stomach. His hands crept up and cupped my ass, pulling me closer to his worshipping lips. I wanted to demand he exp
lain himself, but more than that, I wanted to be with him. Completely.

  Explanations could wait.

  “You’re a little overdressed.” I ran my hands through his hair and pushed all my worry and doubt to the far recesses of my mind. I wanted to be here right now in this moment with this man who was on his knees in front of me wanting me for exactly who I was.

  “I do believe you have a good point.” He stood and removed his boots and jeans. He looked like a freakin’ Greek god clad only in gray boxer briefs. How in the hell was he not attached to someone? A man like him would have to beat the women off. He most likely had a different gal pal every night of the week. An ugly green burst of jealousy swept through me and I got mad at him.

  “Stop thinking.” His half smirk made me giggle and I wrinkled my nose at him. “What in the hell were you thinking?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Men think about nothing. Women do not think about nothing.” His large body loomed over mine as he backed me up to my unmade bed. “Spill it, pretty girl.”

  “Fine,” I snapped, grabbing his shoulders so I didn’t fall back on the bed. “I was thinking you probably have a ton of girlfriends or lovers or hookers and you have to beat women off of you and then I got mad at you for being a man whore.”

  “What the fuck?” He laughed and pulled my naked body flush against his almost naked body. “You are mad at me for the fictitious bullshit you created in your mind?”

  “Yes,” I muttered, and buried my face in his ridiculously perfect chest.

  “Look at me.”

  “No,” I replied, somewhat muffled due to the fact I had face-planted myself on his chest.

  He reached under my chin and raised my eyes to his. “The talk takes place after the fun, but I want to be clear. I have no girlfriend, no wife, and no hookers. You?”

  “Nope, no hookers.” I giggled and rolled my eyes.

  “Good to know,” he whispered as his teeth found their way to the religious area on my neck. “Hell, baby, I don’t even exist.”

  “You feel pretty corporeal to me,” I moaned, and ran my hands over a butt so fine it almost brought tears to my eyes.

  “For you, I’d pretty much be anything,” he murmured in a husky voice that made my tummy flip.

  The time for talking had ended. The time for action had begun. The first four orgasms made me scream and beg and call him all sorts of religious deities. He accepted the compliments with no humility whatsoever.

  “I’m one away from fucking you till you can’t walk,” he said gruffly, grabbing his cuffs from the pocket of his jeans.

  “I can’t walk now,” I gasped. I was a noodle. My legs and arms were worthless. “Have to stop. Your turn,” I begged as I saw him coming for me with cuffs in his hands and the most evil sexy smirk on his face.

  “No, baby, I said five for you and then I get mine. This time I’m gonna go slow.”

  Trying to get my bearings was difficult. My voice was hoarse from screaming after the almost violent out of body experiences he’d just provided for me. All lips, teeth, fingers, and orgasms . . . my orgasms. I’d never come so many times in such a short period in my life and it was very likely going to kill me dead.

  “Look at me,” Luke demanded as he cuffed me to my headboard. “See me. Watch me. Make me real,” he whispered as his lips lowered to mine.

  What did he mean? Real? My brain was cluttered and exploding with endorphins. He teased the seam of my lips with his tongue till I opened for him. In that moment, I realized I couldn’t deny him anything. Ever. After a thorough and mind-altering exploration of my mouth, he dragged his lips from mine and visited my neck for a moment, then decided to hang out with my rock hard aching nipples for a while.

  “God, your tits are fucking perfect.” He licked, sucked, and nipped until I saw stars. I thought I was done after four, but clearly I was wrong. The strong pulls from his mouth on my breasts shot straight to my core and my body began to writhe in anticipation.

  “Luke, I want to touch you,” I cried out as he bit down on the soft underside of my breast, making me shudder uncontrollably.

  “Nope,” he said. “I want you helpless to anything and everything I want to do to you.”

  Holy hell, this man had my number so bad it scared me to death. The sex felt different this time. Was I more invested? Yes . . . No. If I were truthful with myself, I’d have to admit I’d been invested from the very first time we’d made love. I had no clue if that’s what he considered it, but I had. It just took me a while to cop to it.

  A buzzing knocked me out of my dream world. “I thought a little extra stimulation would destroy you,” Luke said, brandishing my vibrator.

  “You’re trying to destroy me?” I tried to sit up, but his cuffs held me fast.

  “Only for other men.” He laughed. “Only for other men, baby.” With a grin that melted me, he pressed my vibrator to my over sensitive clit and I detonated. Behind my closed eyelids colors swirled. My hips jerked and my body felt like one big pulsing heartbeat. Despite the roaring in my ears, I heard him swear and heard the foil wrapper of a condom being torn.

  “Spread your legs,” Luke ground out through clenched teeth.

  “It’s my turn now.”

  I opened my legs and eyes and saw a beautiful man almost out of control with lust lowering himself over my trembling body. I was still in the aftershocks of my orgasm as he lifted my ass in his big hands and pushed his body into mine. He was large but I was so primed for him, he buried himself to the hilt with one strong thrust. The sexy sounds he made as he owned my body prolonged my orgasm to the point of pain. My spasms gripped him like a vise, and I felt every gorgeous inch of the wild man inside me.

  “So good, so fucking good, Candy,” he moaned, and pumped harder and faster.

  “Oh God,” I gasped as a tightening started low in my abdomen. My exhausted body came to life and I met every violent thrust with an out of control abandon. I needed to fuck him as hard as he was fucking me.

  “That’s it, baby,” he hissed in my ear, and bit down. “Fuck me. Make me come.”

  That was it. I was done. His dirty talk sent me straight to Jesus and all the angels and Saints and the Super Bowl with the Minnesota Vikings winning combined. I convulsed and flew into my sixth orgasm, taking him with me. He gripped my ass with such pressure, I knew I would have bruises, but I wanted even more. As the tingling ripped through my body, I screamed with what little voice I had left and felt his orgasm pulse into me with a strength that sucked all the breath I had left right out of me. I was fairly sure I was dead, or at the very least suffering a heart attack.

  “Holy hell,” Luke muttered, collapsing on top of me. His weight was a welcome blanket, but the cuffs were no longer my friend.

  “Luke, my wrists hurt.”

  “On it.” He jumped up and released my wrists and gently massaged them. “I think I almost passed out.”

  “I think I almost died,” I countered, laughing.

  “You are perfect,” he murmured as he ran his magic fingers along my collarbone.

  “Far from it.” I paused and wondered if it was time to talk. “So what do we do now?”

  “Well, I was thinking I’d like to hold you and fall asleep.” He hopped up and disposed of the condom and flicked out the lights. Moonlight shone through the window and I was struck by how truly beautiful he was.

  “You want to stay?” I asked. Did I want him to stay? I wasn’t sure. This was majorly unchartered territory for me. What I did know was that I didn’t want him to go.

  “Does that work for you, pretty girl?”

  “Um . . . yes. Yes, it does, but aren’t we going to talk?”

  “In the morning.” He curled up next to me and held me. I felt the beating of his heart and the warmth of his body in the silence of my room—and I didn’t need to fill it.

  I didn’t need to fill it because it was already full.

  Chapter 9

  I awoke as sore as I’ve ever been in
my life, wrapped up in a warm human blanket that was very happy to see me. Unsure if he was awake or asleep, I stayed still and enjoyed being held. Dangerous, but I couldn’t help myself. I dreaded the talk and selfishly wanted to be close to him until reality set in and made it impossible.

  “Good morning, Sunshine,” he murmured into my hair, pressing his very happy camper against my bottom.

  “Morning.” I couldn’t hide the smile in my voice or the lightness in my heart.

  “As hot and sexy as we both know that I am, morning breath is not working for me. Can I use your toothbrush?” Luke asked as his hands found their way to my breasts.

  “Ewwww, that’s gross,” I said, removing his hands, which he promptly re-placed.

  “You’re kidding me. I had my tongue down your throat all night and you’re telling me it’s gross to use your toothbrush?”

  “I suppose when you put it that way, I have no ground to stand on.” I laughed and arched my back so my backside could say a proper hello to his front side.

  “Jesus,” he groaned. “Get on your hands and knees.”

  “Get a condom,” I demanded. “And hurry.” My exhausted, sore body had woken up with a vengeance, and I was beyond ready; no foreplay needed.

  “Shit, I only had one.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I yelled. “You only brought one condom?”

  “Oh my God,” Luke barked with laughter. “I was sure you would knee my nuts and kick me off your property last night.”

  I flopped over to my back and glared at him in frustration. “I guess you were never a boy scout.”

  “What in the hell does that mean?”

  “It means,” I said as I rolled off my bed, “that you’re not prepared. I, on the other hand, am.”

  Luke grabbed my arm and stopped me from going to my drawer for protection. “Are you on the pill?”

  “Yes,” I answered slowly, knowing where this was going and unsure if it was a good idea.

  “I have a clean bill of health and haven’t been with anyone else since we started sleeping together a year ago,” he said, watching me closely for my reaction.