Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I didn’t realize it was possible to laugh without any air in my lungs, but I did.

  “You’re such a shit,” I wheezed.

  He grinned and started sucking on my neck.

  I ceased all laughing, laying my head back and tilting it to the side to allow him easier access.

  He chuckled, going up to his elbows but leaving his lower half fully pushing into me.

  I skimmed my legs up until my toes were along the waistband of his boxers, then hooked them into the band and skimmed them down his legs.

  He chuckled against my neck, making me shiver again, and I gripped the biceps of his arms with a fierceness that betrayed my need for him.

  “Oh, God,” I groaned.

  He moved down to my t-shirt clad chest and bit the tip of one turgid nipple through the fabric.

  My sex clenched down hard, and I pushed downward with my legs involuntarily.

  And with that downward movement, so went his underwear.

  The long, thick, pulsing column of his cock felt white hot as it pressed into me, causing me to gasp.

  He gasped too.

  Shifting slightly to pull my shirt up, his dick moved from its lowered position to a new position. A position that had my pulse shooting up to heart attack levels.

  The head of his massive cock rested against my entrance, and we both froze.

  All he had to do was push in slightly, and my pseudo-virginity would be gone.

  I said pseudo because I’d been using a dildo for years. I mean seriously, a girl has needs! So it wasn’t like I haven’t ever had a cock in me… just not a real flesh and blood one.

  His eyes looked into mine, and at what he saw, he bent down to slowly take my breast in his mouth. At the same time, he sank his cock into me, one slow inch at a time.

  Condoms never even crossed our minds.

  Both of us were catholic.

  We knew that sex would mean something huge.

  I knew he probably wasn’t totally naïve, but he was a virgin just like I was.

  Sure, he’d done things. Things that I didn’t want to even think about. But he’d saved this for me. All for me.

  His cock had never been inside another woman’s body. And my vagina had never housed anything that wasn’t made of plastic.

  With one large pull of his mouth on my nipple, he sank in to the hilt.

  His heavy balls rested against my ass, and my channel was pulsating, trying in vain to adjust to the intrusion of his cock.

  It wouldn’t happen though. He was big. I mean, really big.

  And God, did he feel good.

  Like a fucking dream.

  He slowly started to push in and out of me, short, searching strokes as he went in and out, gauging my reaction.

  When he didn’t get the type of reaction he wanted, he started pushing harder, withdrawing further.

  I gasped, and his eyes smiled.

  His strokes stayed long and deep, pushing in and out as he switched from one breast to the other. He ran the tip of his tongue along the outside of my areola, and I bit my lip, bucking my hips as he teased me relentlessly.

  I raised my hips, legs going high around his hips as he started pumping into me forcefully.

  My hands went to his head, fingers tightening around his ears as he started pushing into me harder and harder.

  Soon there was no rhythm at all. Only a crazy, fucked-up need for release that took not just me, but Nico, over.

  He let go of my breast, gasping for breath as he went up on his knees, pulling my legs up and over his shoulders.

  Then he leaned back down and I saw stars.

  The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper inside of me. A secret place… the one I’d read about in novels.

  I was now a believer!

  My eyes flew open and my pussy clenched down hard on him, his cock probably being strangled, but I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

  My back arched, and my head flew back.

  I probably looked like he was exorcising a demon from me with how far my back was arched, but I seriously could do nothing else.

  I heard him growl loud, the sound filling the room, but I was too busy trying to find my breath.

  My orgasm felt divine. There was no way to explain the feeling.

  I’d had orgasms before, but having one that was stimulated by nothing else but Nico’s hard cock was in-fucking-sane.

  As it pulsed through me, taking me like a wrecking ball through a glass window, I felt hot pulses of Nico’s release starting to fill me.

  He grunted with each pulse, and it was long moments later when I finally joined the land of the living.

  I was now on top of Nico. My head on his shoulder and hair sprawled all around us.

  Our breathing was ragged, and I felt his hardness still filling me up, twitching every so often with the aftermath of his release.

  “I think I like having sex,” I told him.

  He squeezed my ass in answer.

  “That a yes?” I confirmed.

  He squeezed my ass again.

  “Good,” I teased.

  We fell asleep like that.

  And it wouldn’t be until morning that I realized I never asked him about his dream.

  I’d make up for it, though. In spades.

  Chapter 10

  SWAT- Fuck the negotiator

  -T-shirt

  Nico

  My head felt like a fucking balloon. My eyes hurt, and I felt the constant need to sneeze.

  I’d caught the cold Nikki had at the dinner with my family. Only mine had morphed into an upper respiratory infection. Thanks, Nik. Really appreciate it.

  Luckily, I had the type of insurance where all I had to do was call a number and describe my symptoms to a doctor, and they’d call me in a prescription if they felt it was needed. Therefore, I never had to go to the doctor, which was good since I was constantly on call.

  I was also on shift.

  Dressed in the standard uniform that KPD SWAT wore while on patrol, I was highly visible.

  The man behind the counter called next, and a very disgruntled man stalked his way up to the front.

  He had about the same symptoms as me, now that I looked at him. He was rail thin with blonde messy hair. And if I had to guess, he was tweaking.

  His head shifted left and right on his shoulders as he looked around nervously.

  I probably would’ve never noticed if he hadn’t started to raise his voice with the man behind the counter.

  “You jipped me four pills!” the man yelled.

  For some reason, I highly doubted they’d ‘jip’ him pills. I’m sure it did happen every once in a while, but never short four.

  “Um, sir,” the young man said. “I understand your frustration in the matter, but unfortunately there’s nothing...”

  “Don’t you dare say there’s nothing you can do. I want to speak to your boss,” the tweaker hissed.

  “Sir, I’m the manager. The pills are counted four times before they’re given to you. By three different people, including the pharmacist. You’ll need to make sure some didn’t spill or possibly recount the prescription. However, if you still feel that there is an error, there is a corporate number…”

  I saw it happening before the enraged customer even went for the small man.

  I stepped forward, two large, quick steps, just in time to catch the guy’s collar, halting his vault over the counter with quick efficiency.

  The guy choked, giving me enough time to wrap my cuffs around one hand, and then the other.

  The entire incident was over in seconds. Mostly before anyone even noticed something was wrong.

  The few who had noticed were staring at me in awe, which annoyed me. I wasn’t a superhero. I was a cop. It was my duty to protect them.

  I sighed and reached for my mic. “Dispatch, this is unit three. I have a 10-17 at the Walgreen’s on Stone Road.”


  “10-4, unit three. Do you need assistance?” the dispatcher asked.

  She was new. Most experience dispatchers would’ve just used another code. Honestly, though, it was refreshing to just speak English for once. Sometimes all the codes got caught up in my head. Especially when they changed them on us. The Navy’s codes had been even more different, and at times I wanted to revert to them. It took a conscious effort at times to keep myself from doing so.

  “Negative. Everything’s under control,” I reported, then turned my attention to the man behind the counter.

  “Nicolas Pena. 7-7-85,” I told him.

  His eyebrows rose, but he still typed my information in the computer, keeping a wary eye on the man still thrashing on the floor.

  I was drawing a crowd, but there was no way I was standing in line again. I felt like balls.

  “That’ll be f-fifteen-thirty…”

  “It’s free.” The pharmacist came up to the counter.

  He stapled the receipt on the paper bag and handed it over. “Have a good day, and happy birthday.”

  I blinked and took the bag, surprised. “Thank you.”

  He nodded toward the floor. “No, thank you. Thank you for everything you do. You have no idea what you just prevented by not letting him in here. It could’ve been disastrous.”

  I nodded. Yes, it could have.

  “Thanks,” I said, shoving the bag into my back pocket.

  Then I bent down and hauled the still spitting man up to his feet and led him out of Walgreens.

  I had to practically drag him, but in the end he saw the error of his ways when he fell not once, but four times. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with his shit. Or anyone’s shit.

  “Fucking cops.”

  I looked up at the scowling man who was narrowing his eyes at me. He was younger, probably no more than eighteen. Long blonde hair that came down to his collarbone, and he was dressed in grungy jeans and a polo shirt.

  I looked away, afraid my face would betray how disgusted I was by the fact that he was even alive right now.

  Like I said. Not in the fucking mood.

  “Help! He’s going to rape me!” the tweaker shrieked.

  “Hey, you didn’t read him his rights! That’s against the law!” One of the men who’d been following behind me yelled.

  I looked back at the young man, glaring.

  He froze, arm raised to haul another verbal jab at him.

  Cops didn’t have to read you your rights unless they were planning on questioning you, and as of right now, I wasn’t planning on questioning him. I was planning to throw him in the back of the car and let someone else question him.

  My mind wasn’t firing on all cylinders, and I was fairly sure I was running a fever.

  “I didn’t hear no rights being read either,” another patron whispered.

  I held back the scathing retort that threatening to vomit from my mouth by only the smallest of threads.

  Fucking ignorant people. It was truly sad that a cop who just saved Walgreen’s a pretty penny, if not from something much worse, got only ridicule.

  This was why some cops had bad attitudes. It was hard to put our lives on the line for ungrateful citizens. Oh, we’d do it no matter what. That didn’t mean we had to have good attitudes while we did it.

  I kept walking, making it out the front door before a bottle of coke was launched at my back.

  I froze and turned back, seeing the teenager looking away.

  “Dispatch, this is unit three. I need some backup,” I said into my mic.

  The kid’s eyes widened, and he looked around wildly.

  I was, however, blocking the only exit that was accessible at the moment.

  “Wrong move, young man,” I said to the little turd.

  ***

  “You’re lucky I’m taking you home instead of to the station,” I said to the little asshole. “I could’ve tried you as an adult, but since your birthday was only a week ago, I’m being lenient. There are some things you need to learn, and one of those is not to antagonize cops. They’re going to be your best friends if you need them. Not if you assault one of their officers, though.”

  I hadn’t realized who he was at first, only seeing the dirty jeans and the stupid shirt at first.

  I hadn’t even looked at the kid’s face for long, other than to determine he wasn’t a threat.

  The moron stayed silent as I pulled up into his driveway and shut the SUV off.

  I stepped out and took a look around, happy to see the old place restored to its former glory.

  The area surrounding the barn was bustling.

  I saw who I thought was Banks, although I hadn’t seen them in eight years so I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, and I walked toward him.

  He spotted me immediately, stripping his gloves off and hopping down from his truck where he was tossing hay over the side.

  “What can I do for you… Nico!” The last was finished in an exclamation.

  His face transformed from concerned to happy as he started jogging forward, threw his arms around me, and practically squeezed me to death.

  “Oh, man. You’ve gotten fuckin’ huge,” I said, squeezing back just as tight.

  That’s when I knew it wasn’t Banks, but Callum.

  Callum was the middle. He’d been a scrawny fifteen-year-old the last time I’d seen him. Now, though, he looked exactly like Banks, who’d been the second oldest.

  Callum was also a hugger and always had been.

  I didn’t mind though. I missed the boy I’d come to know well when he was a kid. In his place, though, seemed to be a very sturdy young man.

  “Holy shit, Callum. You’ve gotten fucking big,” I said again, still not able to believe it.

  Callum grinned wolfishly at me. “I’m a fucking beast, huh?”

  I laughed. The boy had always had a sense of humor if nothing else.

  “Yeah, beast is a good word for it.” I shook my head, then sighed. “Where’s Ace? I have a wayward youth in the back of my truck, and I need to relinquish him,” I said.

  I didn’t really have to relinquish him, per se, but I needed to let him know the situation, and explain what would happen if the kid decided to assault another police officer. The person to do that was the eldest, and since Georgia was currently at work, Ace would have to do.

  Callum’s eyes narrowed, and he turned a glare on the young man in the car.

  “That little prick,” Callum growled, then yelled. “Ace!”

  Ace appeared out of the barn moments later, wiping his hands on a paper towel.

  Built like a bodybuilder, he looked like he could bench two of me. His blonde hair was covered by the usual cowboy hat that all of the Valentine boys wore from the moment I first saw them.

  He was the spitting image of his father, Ace Senior.

  Which I’m sure bugged the absolute shit out of him every day when he looked in the mirror.

  “What can I help you with?” he asked.

  Then his eyes narrowed, and a grin much the same as Callum’s split his face.

  “Nico! How ‘ya fuckin’ been, man?” he asked, offering his hand.

  I took it and shook it, giving the man a clap on the back.

  “I’m okay,” I said tiredly.

  He frowned. “You sound like shit. You looking for Georgia? She’s at work today.”

  I shook my head and sighed. “Nope. I have something for you.”

  I walked to my cruiser and opened the backdoor.

  When the youngest Valentine refused to come out, I sighed and hauled him out by the back of the shirt.

  As his head hung in defeat, I sighed. “Move, boy.”

  He did so, albeit reluctantly.

  Ace’s disappointed gaze stayed glued to his little brother.

  When we were close enough, he let out an exasperated sigh. “Darby Alexander Valentine, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

&nbs
p; I wanted to laugh at the way Darby wilted at his brother’s harsh reprimand.

  “But—” Darby tried.

  “Silence,” Ace snapped. “You’re eighteen fucking years old. Georgia doesn’t have to let you live here. You keep pulling this shit, and you’re gonna find yourself out on your ass. Then what’ll you do?”

  Harsh, but true. The farm was left to the eldest, Georgia. She’d deeded a fifth of the ranch to each boy as they reached their twenty-first birthday. Darby was the last one not to reach twenty-one. He still had three years to go, and if he kept it up, he wouldn’t be getting much from his sister.

  “I don’t like it here,” Darby said petulantly.

  Ace looked at his younger brother, concern morphing his angered face.

  “You’re not the only one it hurts, you know. We hurt just as much as you do,” Ace said softly.

  Darby hung his head.

  “I wish I could see them one more time. I want to wake up and realize it’s all a bad dream. Sometimes I think I can manage it, but then you brought me here. And here everything is worse. At least there I could pretend that they were all at home waiting on us to come back. Now I wake up and see that house gone… see their graves… and I can’t breathe,” Darby said roughly.

  “That doesn’t give you the right to break the law. I miss them just as much as you do. The same pain fills me day and night. What did you do?” He asked.

  Darby shook his head. “I… I threw a bottle of coke at his back.”

  Ace and Callum both hissed in a breath.

  Callum was the one to snap, “What the fuck, Darby?”

  He shrugged.

  I let Darby’s arm go when Ace stepped forward, getting into Darby’s face.

  “One more chance. That’s all you’ve got. One more chance. That’s why we moved here, asshole. Because you couldn’t handle yourself in Houston anymore. You and your fucking gang. Get the fuck over yourself. Either help us or get the fuck gone,” Ace growled, then he turned to me. “I’m sorry that he did that. It won’t be happening again, I guarantee it.”

  I nodded.

  I believed him.

  I didn’t plan on letting it happen again, either.

  Plan being the operative word. I’m sure he’d try to make it happen, but it sounded like Darby was a repeat offender, and it usually took an act of God to get them to see their wrongs.