Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set

by Lani Lynn Vale

  Not that she was very good at it.

  Once we entered the house, she walked straight to the bedroom where she let Molder out, and I immediately let him outside to pee.

  Then I fed him, locked the doors, and made my way back to our bedroom.

  I stripped off my shirt and started to sit down to take off my prosthesis when my eyes caught Blake in the mirror.

  Half turning to see if what I was seeing was real, I gasped in horror.

  “Please, for the love of all that’s holy, tell me you’re not using my razor,” I said to her stiffly.

  She looked up from where she was shaving her pussy and smiled. “It is. Yours works way better than mine.”

  I blinked in surprise, astounded that she’d answered me truthfully.

  “You know it’s my razor… and yet you willingly continue using it,” I clarified.

  She nodded. “Yep.”

  No remorse in the woman whatsoever.

  “You do realize,” I said, standing up on my one leg to get into the shower. “That that razor touches my face, correct?”

  “Mmmm hmm,” she agreed, going back to shaving.

  “Have you ever used it before?” I asked slowly.

  She nodded. “Every time I shave.”

  My mouth fell open in shock. Absolute shock that this woman…this crazy, exasperating woman, used my razor. The thing that shaved my face every single morning when I trimmed up for work.

  “And you realize that that thing touches my face… right?” I said for a second time.

  She nodded again, not bothering to answer that time.

  I leaned back and flushed the toilet, eliciting an ear-piercing scream out of her.

  “What was that for?” she sputtered as the ice cold water of the shower poured down onto her.

  Her nipples hardened, and yet again, as always, my eyes zeroed in on those perky little buds.

  “Stay away from me, you horny toad,” she hissed as she saw where my gaze had fastened on to.

  “And if I don’t?” I taunted, staying seated with my prosthesis on the counter beside me.

  She got out, leaving the shower running, and wrapped the towel around her chest, covering all that I loved to taste in one fluid motion.

  “Oh,” she teased, walking out. “I’m sure I’ll find some way to get away from you.”

  Warily, I looked around, trying to find what she’d do to me this time, yet couldn’t find anything wrong.

  Shrugging it off, I stood, then realized that my crutch, as well as my cane, were no longer standing where I’d left them the previous night.

  “Hey babe,” I called behind her. “Have you seen my crutch?”

  She laughed.

  The bitch laughed.

  “Oh, you mean these?” she asked, poking her head around the corner.

  Then she lifted up her hands, showing me the crutch and cane that were in her hand, as well as my prosthesis.

  I glared at her. “Give them to me, you wench.”

  She giggled. “And what do I get if I obey, oh lord and master?”

  I started to hop to her, causing her to back away and start giggling once again.

  I made it to the door to see her collapsed onto the bed wiping her tears.

  “What are you laughing at, you little stealer?” I asked, hopping some more.

  The moment I touched the bed, she started to rise, but I caught her ankle and pulled her back.

  “Eeeek!” She squeaked. “Let me go.”

  Pinning her down, I said, “No. Now tell me what has you laughing.”

  She had to get out a few more giggles before she finally replied with, “Your dick.”

  I ground my erection into her hip, letting her feel the rock hardness of it.

  Something that was a constant bone of contention between me and my dick.

  All the woman had to do sometimes was walk into a room, and it was rearing to go for her.

  “My dick makes you laugh?” I confirmed.

  She nodded. “Yes, you jumped in here and all I could focus on was the way your dick swung with each upward movement.”

  I pinched her ass and rolled her over onto her belly.

  Then I pressed the tip of my cock against her entrance and started to slide inside.

  “So… who’s laughing now?”

  She sobered. “Not me. Absolutely, one hundred percent, not me,” she said, pressing her ass back so I slipped farther inside.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  Epilogue

  Have fun. Be safe. Come home.

  -Key chain

  Blake

  Six months later

  “Let’s go, I don’t have all day,” Grandpa grumbled, doing his best not to smile.

  I fluffed out my skirt one more time, turned in a circle, and grimaced.

  I looked like a beached whale.

  At five months pregnant, there wasn’t much a girl could do to hide the fact.

  I wasn’t blessed with one of those small bellies, either.

  I was blessed with a large one. One that didn’t hide a single damn thing.

  “You’re pregnant. Yes. You don’t have to keep staring at it.” Grandpa put in his unwanted two cents.

  I stuck my tongue out at him and finally stepped up to the door that led to the chapel.

  “Ready, Freddy,” I teased.

  He narrowed his eyes at me, stopping me before I would’ve opened the door.

  “You know your daddy was always real proud of you, right?” he asked, touching the tips of his fingertips to my face.

  I smiled, cupping his hand with my own.

  “Yeah, Grandpa. I do,” I whispered, a lone tear threatening to spill over.

  He leaned forward and kissed my nose before turning back toward the door and thrusting it open.

  The door banged against the side of the wall, effectively announcing our entrance just as well as the music that was now playing throughout the church.

  Instead of waiting for the music to get to the right point, he started to yank me down the aisle as fast as his arthritic knees would allow.

  “You know, right, that you’ll have to spend the rest of your life with him?” Grandpa asked once we were halfway down the aisle.

  I giggled. “Yes, I do know that.”

  I passed Pauline and gave her a little wave before I, once again, got yanked for not keeping up.

  “Come on, slowpoke. Your man’s a-waitin’,” he urged.

  I looked up into Foster’s amused eyes, so freakin’ happy that I barely contained the urge to run down the aisle toward him.

  “Go on, you know you want to,” my grandpa said, giving me a slight shove.

  I stopped and pulled him to a stop next to me. Then gave him a loud smacking kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, grandpa.”

  He blushed. “Get on with it. If you don’t hurry you’ll be givin’ birth in front of the entire God forsaken town.”

  I laughed, then started to run toward the man who made my dreams come true.

  His overprotective self, of course, started to freak out that I was running when I should clearly be taking caution in anything I did.

  And running definitely wasn’t taking caution.

  But I enjoyed seeing the panic in his eyes as I launched myself at him.

  I had no doubt that he’d catch me.

  Something he did effortlessly.

  Even going so far as to cushion the impact by hunching his shoulders to allow more room for my belly.

  He spun me around once before turning with me in his arms to face the priest.

  A priest, who enjoyed the display of affection, just as much as the rest of the audience.

  “So… I can see that we’re all excited to be here,” he laughed.

  I nodded enthusiastically.

  “Alright,” he nodded his head. “I was told I had to read this before I began. So here it goes.”

 
My daughter and the man who holds her heart,

  I gave this note to your uncle on the off chance that something ever happened to me. He was to give it to the preacher on the day that you married. I only assume that he followed directions, because if you’re hearing this note read aloud, it means that I am no longer of this world. And Darren always was a shithead who refused to follow orders.

  The crowd laughed, my eyes, now watering, turned to Uncle Darren.

  He smiled at me fondly, nodding his head, encouraging me to listen.

  The day that you were born was the happiest day of my life. I never thought that I would ever have something so precious that was made by me. Of course, your mother had a hand in it, too. Yet, I knew, the moment you were born that you’d be my little girl. I’d teach you everything you needed to know to succeed in life. To mold you into the perfect person who’d make some man extremely happy one day.

  And I did. And I know that man standing beside you is extremely happy. In fact, if he has any brain in his head at all, he’s thanking the good God above that you were given to him.

  Foster’s arms tensed around me tightly. “He’s right. I’m fucking ecstatic that I have you. And always will be.”

  From this day forward, you will forever belong to this man. There’ll be days that you fight. Days that you can’t stand the sight of the other. Yet, you’ll forget about it, because you love each other. You will have a fight, and the next thing you know you’re cooking dinner together and neither one of you will remember what you were fighting about twenty minutes before.

  A word of advice to my son-in-law, she’ll bring up things that happened a year and a half ago in a fight about what you want for dinner. It’ll happen. Trust me. Blake is a shit when she’s in a bad mood. Stick with her, though. She’s worth it.

  I laughed, wiping the tears from my eyes, thankful that I’d worn waterproof mascara.

  To my Blake, I hope you realize just how much you meant to me. How much I regret not being there to walk you down the aisle. To give you away to the man who I know will take care of you for the rest of your life.

  You’re the beat to my heart, and I’m so proud of you.

  I love you with all my heart, and I will always be watching over you.

  Dad.

  I hiccupped a sob as I turned my face into Foster’s chest, grieving once again for the man that I missed with all my heart.

  “The priest said ‘shit,’” Foster said into my hair.

  I laughed into his chest before I leaned back and stared up at the man I was about to marry.

  I knew one thing for sure, and that was that I was one happy woman.

  I was marrying the man of my dreams. I was pregnant with his baby. We had a house that was beautiful, and we both had jobs that we loved.

  I couldn’t ask for a single thing more than I already had.

  ***

  Six months later

  Foster

  I walked into the room, tired as hell from a shift that went from eight hours to twelve.

  I’d just started heading to a call when the pager that I was forced to carry for any SWAT callouts went off.

  Now, after a four-hour-long hostage negotiation call was over, I was finally getting home to my family.

  I wasn’t sure if they’d be up or not. Beckham’s schedule was still pretty sporadic.

  At two months old, she still got up every three to four hours like clockwork to eat… and that was if she even went to sleep afterward.

  I found my two girls watching TV.

  Well… Beckham was in her swing, swinging away while she stared at the TV.

  Blake was on her back on the couch, arm thrown up over her head while she slept.

  She looked beautiful, even if she was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, and was sporting a giant white stain on her chest from what’d I assumed to be spit-up.

  Beckham cooed as I walked over to her.

  Turning the dial off to stop the swing, I picked her up and cradled her against my chest.

  She smelled like baby lotion. The one in the purple bottle that was supposed to help her sleep. Yet, here the girl was, at 1:35 A.M. Still wide awake while her mother sacked out on the couch.

  Not that I blamed Blake.

  She did a great job taking care of Beckham.

  Even worse, she’d started back at her job this week and she was exhausted. Which was why I also overlooked the drool that was leaking out the corner of her mouth.

  Beckham and I went to her room where I changed her, read her a story, and then laid her down in her bed.

  She only ever went to her bed when I was there to put her in it.

  She was Daddy’s little girl for sure.

  Turning on her mobile that projected stars on the bedroom’s ceiling while it turned, I flipped off her light and closed the door quietly.

  Then I went back for my other girl, finding her in the exact same position.

  Smiling, I started stripping off my things, starting with my gun, badge, and Kevlar vest.

  My boots soon followed, followed by my pants and shirts.

  Everything was piled high on the floor, but I left it there to get later.

  My next step was to bend down and gather Blake into my arms.

  She was only slightly heavier than she’d been before she had the baby, but to me, she was still perfect.

  If anything, she was even sexier now with the added cushion on her ass and thighs.

  Her breasts were bigger, too.

  Exceptionally so.

  That was thanks to the breastfeeding. Something that was a serious turn on for me, yet I’d never admit to it.

  “Hey,” Blake said sleepily, turning her face into my chest to kiss it. “I missed you.”

  I smiled as I walked into the bedroom, sighing when I saw the bed was full of unfolded clothes.

  “I missed you, too. I put Beckham to bed,” I told her before she had a chance to ask the question I could see brewing in her eyes.

  Laying her on my side, I walked around to the opposite side and shoved all the clothes into a large pile, then scooped them up into my arms before depositing them on the dresser.

  Those we’d get to later, too.

  “How was work?” she asked softly as I sat on the bed and started removing my prosthesis.

  I looked over at her to see her turned toward me, eyes heavy with sleep.

  “Long. The man who was responsible for the call we ran held the woman hostage with a BB gun. We spent four hours there because there was no way in without putting the woman he was holding hostage in danger. Then to find out the gun that we’d been fearing all night was fake was a major blow. Needless to say, we were not happy. Nico missed his anniversary dinner,” I said, laying everything on the floor before I fell into bed beside her.

  Blake scooted over the moment I got into bed, curling into my body.

  “I’m glad it was a stupid call, if it had to be any at all. It’s the bad ones that make my heart scared,” she whispered, voice heavy with the beginning of sleep.

  “I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “I don’t mean to worry you.”

  She patted my belly lightly twice in answer before she fell asleep on me once more.

  And once again, I was left feeling so full I could hardly stand it. Full of love for my wife. For my child. For everything.

  There was not one single thing I’d change.

  Not one.

  ***

  Three years later

  Blake

  “Mom,” an insistent voice said urgently. “I have to pee!”

  I sighed, closing my eyes as I prayed that my daughter would forget that she ‘had to pee’ and just be still for another three minutes while we waited for Foster to get there.

  Today was Foster’s thirty-fourth birthday, and I had an incredible party planned out.

  Right this second, we were waiting for my uncle to bring Foster in from the car.r />
  My daughter, however, had different ideas.

  “I’m going to pee on Daddy’s rug, and you know how he doesn’t like that,” Beckham scolded me.

  Chuckles from the other men and women in the room surrounded me in the darkness, and I had to stifle the urge to laugh myself at the ridiculousness of it all.

  “Fine,” I said, standing up with Beckham’s hand in my own. “If you don’t go to the potty, though, I will spank your little hiney.”

  Snorts sounded out among the room, I’m sure finding it humorous that I would even say that. The irony of it all was staggering.

  Foster was the world’s worst person when it came to punishing, and usually it was me who did all of it… which didn’t happen all that often.

  I just hated when Beckham cried, and she had the softest, most sensitive heart in the world. It was hard for anyone to scold her, let alone spank her.

  “Mommy,” she said softly. “I can’t see.”

  I sighed and started searching for my phone, but Luke, who’d been sitting beside me, flipped his lighter open and turned it on.

  Which was followed by the rest of the men in the room, including my grandpa.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  “No problem, my dear,” Grandpa said.

  I smiled inwardly, pulling Beckham in my wake as I made my way to the potty where it was inevitable that we’d miss Foster’s entrance.

  “Alright, sweetheart. Hurry up so we don’t miss Daddy,” I said hurriedly.

  She gave me a look that clearly said ‘don’t rush me.’

  The same look her father used quite often.

  “Turn around,” she said.

  Sighing, knowing she’d never go if I didn’t turn around, I did so.

  Finally she went and was pulling her pants up when she decided that maybe she wasn’t through completely.

  My head hit the door with a soft thunk, and I knew we wouldn’t make it in time to surprise Foster.

  “I’m pooping!” she sang as she always did.

  My head hit the door again with another soft thunk.

  “Momma, you can’t tell you’re fat from the back.”

  Thunk.

  “And you have something sticking to your butt.”

  Thunk.

  “It’s still there.”

  Thunk.

  “Mom.”