Hot Cop (Too Hot To Handle Book 1)

Home > Contemporary > Hot Cop (Too Hot To Handle Book 1) > Page 4
Hot Cop (Too Hot To Handle Book 1) Page 4

by Aubree Valentine


  Zoey reaches over and tugs on my arm. Reluctantly, I follow them.

  We take our silly group photo in front of the event banner like we always do and then line up for the official author photo. As soon as we’re finished, I excuse myself to go use the restroom before things kick off.

  When I exit the restroom, I manage to run directly into a solid mass of muscle, belonging to none other than Mr. Hot Cop himself.

  “Motherfucker. Are you following me now?” I gasp as his arms curl around me, preventing me from stumbling on my ass. “Suddenly you recognize me? Thursday I was nothing but a stranger.”

  “You know better, KJ,” he warns. “We need to talk about a few misconceptions between us.”

  I close my eyes and draw a deep breath. “Not here Rhys. Please. Not here. Not today. Please don’t ruin this for me okay?” The last thing I want to do is fall apart minutes before the signing begins. And I certainly don’t want to fall apart over him. Again. Once was more than enough for me. “We have nothing to clear up.”

  “Really? Because your satire story says otherwise,” he snips out as I try to wiggle away from him.

  My eyes flash to his face, and for a moment my mask slips and I feel exposed. I quickly compose myself and give him a hard stare.

  “Get over yourself, Rhys. That book had nothing to do with you. I was merely giving the readers what they wanted.”

  I manage to free myself from his embrace and storm off, confident that I look completely childish as I do. But there’s not a damn thing I can do about that. He brings out the best in me, I suppose.

  Doors are opening, and readers are trickling in when I step back inside the room. I quickly rush to my table and take my place beside Nora – who has learned to read me well. She passes me a questioning glance as I smooth out my shirt and force a fake smile. She nods at me and gently squeezes my hand as an act of reassurance.

  I had no idea that a year ago when I met Nora for the first time, she would become one of my very best friends. Much less that I’d be privileged enough to hire her on as my personal assistant. Or that I’d even need one. But I need Nora as much as I need my next breath. The woman keeps me sane. Most days.

  And now? I’m counting on her to keep my mind off the model sitting at the table beside me for the remainder of the day.

  Staying in the moment during the signing was no small feat.

  There was plenty of interaction and smiling. Up and down for pictures. I’m pretty sure an eager reader, or four, may have grabbed my ass too. But, every free second, I found myself looking over at KJ – who did all she could to ignore me.

  Between not recognizing her immediately and the words from her book, that are still rolling through my mind, I feel like the world’s biggest asshole.

  Her dismissal of me earlier today has only made me that much more determined to set things right with her. Lucky for me, I have it on good authority that she’ll be attending the after party tonight.

  I would have done this last night during the Friday evening dinner event, if not for my “date” and trying to remain professional. Not to mention that the very few chances I had to approach her, she would bolt before I could. She can only avoid me for so long. I will have a chance to set the record straight before she leaves town again.

  And…I know exactly how I’m going to make it happen too. I’ve come prepared.

  I straighten my tie, check my hair one last time, and tuck my wallet into one back pocket. I swipe the pair of cuffs from the dresser and tuck them into my other pocket. I could probably leave them in the room, but I’m taking no chances.

  With the room key tucked safely in my front pocket, I’m making my way down to the lobby where I’m supposed to meet Annabelle later.

  KJ’s the first thing I see as I walk off the elevator, and she looks fucking amazing.

  The after party is more a cocktail party type – hence my tie. KJ is dressed in a yellow flower dress with rhinestones on it. It almost looks like one of those retro bathing suits from the 50’s. And covers just about as much. She’s filled it out well. Her light brown hair is down and curled in waves over her shoulders. And she’s wearing silver fuck me heels to match.

  Shit. My cock is rock hard beneath my slacks. I can already imagine her legs wrapped around me. Her heels digging into my ass as I pound into her tight little…

  “Rhys!” Annabelle calls out to me.

  I wince inwardly and take a deep breath while counting and trying to think about anything that might make this hard on go away. “Annabelle, you look nice.” She does. Annabelle is pretty enough, but not my type. She’s also married and has two kids, something that I got the impression that not many people know. Either way, she’s off limits and not who I’m interested in anyway. Still, I have manners and ladies appreciate compliments.

  “You’re back early. Let’s grab a drink at the bar,” Annabelle wraps her arm around mine and nearly drags me away.

  I steal one final glance over my shoulder and notice KJ is watching me. She looks disappointed and her best friend, well, she looks pretty pissed off. Great, that plan I have…it’s probably going to take even more leg work to dig myself out.

  “What are you drinking?” Annabelle slides up onto the barstool and waves to the bartender.

  “Just water for me.”

  “Oh, come on, you’ve worked hard all day. What’s your poison? Want a beer? Whiskey?”

  “Nah, really. I’m ok. I don’t drink.”

  She looks shocked. “You don’t drink. Like, at all?”

  “Rarely,” I confess.

  “Well, we should celebrate. Your cover, your first signing. One drink won’t hurt.” Her hand squeezes my bicep, and she winks at me.

  I laugh nervously, “No, thanks. I appreciate it though.” Shit, this is getting uncomfortable, quickly.

  “Suit yourself.” Her attention turns to the bartender. “Bottle of water and a Jack and coke.”

  While Annabelle enjoys her drink, and orders another, I sip from the bottle of water and watch the room. I know she’s talking to me, and I swear I’m not trying to be rude, but when I got back here early – I had hoped that maybe KJ would arrive first and I could use that extra time to work on her. I was not planning on killing time in the lobby bar while we wait for the after party to begin.

  By the time we make it upstairs to the Level 8 Lounge, Annabelle is feeling no pain and has gotten quite comfortable with nearly every man in the place. While she wanders off to mingle with another model, I make small talk with Cooper as he fills me in on details about the photo shoot that is supposed to happen tomorrow.

  My watchful gaze doesn’t leave KJ for long. I’m aware of her location the entire evening. Not surprisingly, she’s continuing to avoid me. It’s still hard for me to believe that a year ago I was just another face in the crowd. I got the girl then and plan to get her now too.

  “How long you been doing this?” The guy next to me gives me a nudge–I’m pretty sure he said his name was Trevor. Cooper introduced us a few minutes ago.

  “Less than a year man,” I look at him briefly, then back to the KJ and Zoey.

  “Oh cool. How’d you become a model?”

  “Uh, well, I uh – long story. Cooper and I are friends, I guess you could say. A photo of me and some buddies went viral, and Cooper begged me to shoot with him. The rest is history.”

  “No shit, what do you do full time – bartender? Maintenance at the hotel?”

  I chuckle and shake my head; this guy can’t be for real. “No. Cop. I was here for event security last year.”

  “Oh, damn, well shit. My bad man. No wonder you’re all cut and shit.”

  I’m not sure how he made that observation, considering I’m fully clothed, and my dress shirt is not that tight that it would give anything away, but whatever. “Yeah, thanks.” I offer him my hand. “It was great talking with you. Maybe, I’ll see you around.” It’s time for me to make a break for it. KJ and Zoey are moving towards the exit.
<
br />   Trevor gives me a firm shake, “Hey man, one piece of advice, don’t ever fuck another model or author. It always ends badly. Trust me.”

  Too late man. “Yeah, thanks for that, I’m good.” I nod and quickly take off after the girls who’ve just headed into the hall.

  They’re almost to the elevators when KJ trips and nearly tumbles to the floor. She’s damn lucky that I’m quick on my feet because I manage to catch her before she falls on her ass.

  “You!” she protests.

  Zoey giggles beside her. “You two need to fuck this out already.”

  The elevator dings and Zoey bounces inside, leaning against the wall.

  KJ tries to move and nearly topples over again. Not thinking, I pick her up and toss her over my shoulders, making sure my hand covers her backside that I’m praying is not on full display.

  “We already fucked! Then he left!” KJ yells as she pounds against my back.

  “Unless you want the whole hotel to know, hush,” I warn her with a swat her on the ass.

  “Damn. That was hot. I wish Smitty handled me like that.”

  I gag. Fuck, I don’t need to think about Smitty with anyone. Shit. “Zoey, do me a favor? You hush too.”

  “Will you spank me?”

  Oh no, she did not just shake her ass at me. “No. Hard no, Zoey.”

  “Girl code,” KJ pipes in. “I fucked him first. Hands off.”

  Zoey giggles and shrugs. “She’s still harboring feelings for you.”

  “I’m right here.” She pinches the small of my back. “And you can let me down you fucking caveman. I’m mad at you. Put. Me. Down.”

  “You barely made it through the lobby. I’m not putting you down.”

  When the elevator stops on what I’m assuming is their floor, Zoey exits, and I follow behind her.

  “Here Hulk, you’re going to need this.” She slips a room key into my shirt pocket and pats my chest before giving KJ a smack. “That one was from me.” She giggles. “She’s in room 403. Have a goodnight.” Zoey waves and turns around.

  “Zoey Daniels!”

  “Night, boo!” Zoey blows a kiss over her shoulder which elicits another grunt from her friend who is still dangling over my shoulder. “Try doing that talking thing that you struggle with, K!”

  With KJ still protesting, I look around and head in the direction of her room. I manage to pull the key from my pocket, the door unlocked and opened, without dropping KJ in the process. Once we’re in her room, I put her down on the bed and quickly try to assess how I’m going to carry out my grand plan.

  KJ doesn’t sit still for long. She’s on her feet, her shoes are off, and she’s waving them at me as if she’s about to attack.

  “What the fuck was that about, Rhys? I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own two feet!”

  “Didn’t look that way to me. How much did you have to drink?” She lets out a huff and tosses one of her heels at me, I dodge it but knock my shoulder on the wall in the process. “Fuck.”

  “You’re an asshole. I haven’t had anything to drink, aside from a few bottles of water and a soda or two. I refuse to make that same mistake, again.”

  Leaning against the offending wall, I cross my hands over my chest and narrow my gaze on her. “And what mistake would that be KJ?”

  “You! You’re the mistake, Rhys Mitchell.”

  My words set Rhys into motion. In three short steps, he’s against me, backing my legs into the bed and stopping me from escaping. His hands wrap around my neck, caressing me and his thumbs ease my face up to him. His grip may be gentle, but his kiss is not. When his lips meet mine, I’m defenseless. I melt into him and every ounce of resolve I had left, melts away.

  He eases me back onto the bed, his lips never leaving mine as his hands roam my body, tenderly, as if he’s reacquainting himself with me. My skin feels like it’s on fire. For a brief moment, I forget that Rhys walked out on me a year ago. And then a distinct clicking sound registers. I can feel the cool metal against my skin, and I know exactly what’s happened. For good measure, I try to move my hands, but they’re bound. To the headboard, by Rhys’ cuffs.

  “Now that I have your attention,” he kisses me gently one more time before slipping off the bed and propping himself against the dresser, his arms crossed over his chest again.

  “Rhys Mitchell, uncuff me now. Or I’m going to start screaming and cause a scene. Is that really what you want, Officer?” I hope that my reference to his career is enough to convince him to let me go.

  “No. You and I are going to have a little talk first. Then, when I’m done, I’m going to fuck you like I’ve wanted to do since you disappeared.”

  “I don’t want to fuck you, Rhys, I want to fucking kill you.” I can feel the tears threatening to fall. “You fucking left you asshole.” I move my legs and attempt to kick at him, but he’s just out of my reach.

  “I didn’t leave. At least not the way you think I did.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “You can believe whatever you want. For a year you’ve hated my guts. Enough that you wrote a fucking story about it. You shared your hatred for me with the entire world. All based on a misconception at that.” His words are so harsh that I can feel his anger behind them.

  I shake my head over and over, “No, you left. I was in the shower, you said you’d be right in. I waited. When I came out, you were gone.”

  Rhys runs his hands through his hair, causing his neatly spiked locks to spiral into chaos. “KJ, I told you I had a call and needed to run. You answered me. You said ‘okay,’ I assumed you heard me.”

  “No,” the first tear falls, and I curse inwardly. I don’t want this man to know how he’s wrecked me. “You never said you were leaving. Besides, where could you have possibly had to run off to at eight in the morning that couldn’t wait five more minutes for a proper goodbye?”

  “Work K – work. I’m on the SWAT team and they needed me, there was a situation. I needed to go. I had every intention of trying to call you. Shit, I did try, but you were gone. I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t walk off and leave you that day. I told you I was coming back, that I’d call the hotel and get in touch with you. You left before I could.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh.”

  Rhys walks over and sits beside me on the bed. When he reaches out and wipes a rogue tear from my face, the damn breaks. “This is so stupid! You were supposed to just be a one-night stand. A way for me to get over my sleezball ex-boyfriend. But no, you had to stick around for a day or two. You wanted to get to know me. I thought it was more than sex, and I wanted to believe, in the back of my stupid little mind, that maybe we could be something. Even if I don’t live in the same state. I’m so fucking stupid. Tell me something, Rhys, would you care – if I had never written the book?”

  He shrugs, “I’ve spent a year trying to forget you.”

  “I noticed,” I snap sarcastically. “You didn’t recognize me when you pulled us over, you ass face. Mission accomplished, you forgot all about me.”

  “Alright, no. I didn’t recognize you when I pulled you over. But not because I’d forgotten about you. I said I tried, but I failed. You cross my mind more than I care to admit. When I did realize it was you, I remembered how pissed I was at you for leaving me. I thought you ran off without a word. So, I can’t say I was all that thrilled to see you again either, especially since I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about you to save my life. It had been a long day. Your hair was pulled back, it’s darker than it was then and you, I don’t know…you looked different. When it clicked, I was in flight or fight mode – I wanted to save face and get the hell out of there. Christ, in reality, I’d been looking forward to this weekend, hoping you really would show up and I could work things out with you.”

  “You were only supposed to be a weekend fling,” I mumble through the tears.

  “But it was more than that, KJ. I know it, and you know it. I’m not the type of guy who
has a string of one-night stands or casual sex partners. I’m usually looking for someone I connect with, to form some kind of emotional intimacy with before things get physical. The minute I laid eyes on you, I felt it. Whatever I’d been searching for, as stupid as this sounds – I felt like I found it when I saw you.”

  I know exactly what he’s talking about. For an entire weekend, aside from the few hours I’d spent at the signing, Rhys and I were together. He doted on me and worshiped me. In more ways than one. We never left each other’s side. “This whole time, I thought that you felt whatever it was, and it scared you – so you bolted.” It’s the entire reason why I didn’t try to contact him after.

  “It did scare me. Not like you think though. I was more worried about you kissing me goodbye after you got your tire fixed and not looking back.”

  “And what about all the other women Rhys? You claim you were so hung up on me, but what about all the women you’ve paraded around with? I’ve seen your Facebook, I’ve seen the nights you’ve spent out on the town and the photos you’ve been tagged in with all these other women.” I shouldn’t give a damn, especially not when I’m sitting here, holding back the truth. But watching all the fun he’s having on social media while I’m being the responsible one? It’s made me a lot more angsty than I realized.

  “I never said I was a saint. For a while, it was about trying to get you off my mind. Do me a favor though, don’t assume that just because I was having fun – that I slept with a bunch of women. There were a few, yes. I’m not a man whore though.”

  “And if I don’t believe you?”

  Rhys shifts, settling in beside me, cradling me - with a soft kiss on my cheek. “I’ll have to make you change your mind.” He smirks.

  “Now, will you uncuff me? This isn’t exactly comfortable,” I plea. I can’t do this anymore. I need to get away and breathe before the walls close in around me.

  He nods and pulls the key from his pocket, unlocking the cuffs and freeing me. I try to move quickly, but before I can retreat, he has my wrists in his hands as he brushes his thumbs over them – massaging the feeling back into my hands.

 

‹ Prev