Detective's Orders (Curvy Girls Club Book 4)

Home > Other > Detective's Orders (Curvy Girls Club Book 4) > Page 1
Detective's Orders (Curvy Girls Club Book 4) Page 1

by Alexa Blue




  DETECTIVE’S ORDERS

  A Steamy Older Alpha and Younger BBW Romance

  Curvy Girls Club Book 4

  Alexa Blue

  Copyright © 2019 Alexa Blue

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, websites, and names are the product of the author’s imagination. Nothing in the text reference any real people, places, or entities. All similarities are purely coincidental.

  Book and Cover design by Alexa Blue

  First Edition: 2019

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  EPILOGUE

  EPILOGUE

  MORE FROM ALEXA

  AFTERWORD

  Chapter One

  Emily

  An empty feeling hits the core of my stomach as I approach my apartment.

  Something’s wrong. I can feel it, and I know something’s up judging from the front door left slightly ajar. When I left this morning, I know for a fact that I locked up my apartment. I even double check each morning to make sure.

  The grocery bag slips under my sweaty palms, and I tighten my clutch on Dax’s hand. Despite only being two weeks short of three, my boy can also sense there’s a problem.

  Carefully, I creep up towards my door, and push it open. With everything going on in my life, a break-in is the last thing I need.

  God, I feel sick.

  Please tell me this is all just a nightmare.

  “Who…Who’s here?” I ask. My voice is all shaky. I hear the shuffling inside my apartment draw to an end at the sound of my voice, and I back up. After wiping my sweaty palms on my pants, I reach out for my phone and dial 911 as I run down the passage, trying to get as far away from my apartment as possible.

  Hairs on the back of my neck stand up at the sounds of glass breaking and Dax begins to choke up.

  “Nine, one, one, what’s your emergency?”

  “Help, someone has broken into my apartment, and I think they’re still here.”

  While the dispatcher takes down my details, I run out of my apartment block, dart towards my car and wait for the police to arrive. I bounce Dax on my leg to try and calm him down.

  I turn on the radio for distraction, and Aqua’s Barbie Girl comes on. For some odd reason, it brings a smile to Dax’s face, and his sobs draw to an end. I turn up the dial.

  I have no fucking idea what I’m doing when it comes to parenting half the time, so when I see Dax smiling, I take full advantage of the situation. God only knows how my mother managed all those years as a single parent.

  Blaring sirens draw close, and three police cars pull up. At this point, I can’t tell what has me more unnerved; the break-in, or the blinding blue and red lights flashing around me. Several police officers step out of the police cars, but it’s the man dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans that catches my attention. Judging from the way he’s dressed and how he carries himself, he’s probably the guy in charge—the man I need to speak to.

  “Nate,” he says with his hand extended.

  “I’m Emily. Follow me.” I don’t accept his hand but nod politely before leading him to my apartment.

  I expected my apartment to look as if a tornado had gone off inside here, but everything seems to be in its place. Nate glances down at the muddy footprints on the carpet which was left by the burglar, and my stomach begins to tremble. That is a huge foot, probably a size 12. The only man I know with such large feet is my ex, Daniel.

  It isn’t until I walk into my gaming room that it feels as though my chest is about to cave in. I’m not sure how the hell I’m supposed to take my therapist’s advice and use ‘breathing exercises’ to calm me down when the air feels so heavy. The only thing touched is my computer. The monitor and the body of my computer remain— the only thing missing is my hard-drive.

  The shattering sound of broken glass must have been when the burglar jumped out of the window. Since we live on the first floor, it’s not all that difficult to break the window and run out the back of the building.

  Dax and I wait outside while the police continue their investigation.

  It must be Daniel. He broke into my house and stole the one thing he knew I treasured most, next to Daxton, my fucking hard-drive.

  Daniel is my dick of an ex that wanted nothing to do with me after I told him I was pregnant. He refuses to pay for child support, and I’m done begging. I will work my ass off to raise my boy, even if it means killing myself with two jobs in the process.

  We last spoke three weeks ago, when he asked to see his son, and I said ‘no.’ Moments before that, I declined his request for yet another loan to support his drug habit.

  Daniel knows that the computer game I have worked my ass off to develop is on that hard-drive. He wouldn’t take my hard-drive to sell it for money; this is pure spite.

  The door opens, and Nate, the police detective, steps out. I gulp.

  I notice him smiling at Dax as he approaches us, and I tighten my hold on my little boy.

  “I know who did this,” I say. The words spit out my mouth, infuriated at the thought of all the time wasted on that jackass excuse of a man.

  Nate

  I lean down, leveling up with the young woman in front of me. She holds a small child in her arms, probably around the age of three, and I instantly imagine raising him as my own.

  Judging from the insides of her apartment, she’s a single mother.

  For a moment I get lost in her beautiful hazel eyes, forgetting that I’m still on the job. It’s hard to focus on detective work when I have an angel sitting in front of me. Except, she’s no angel; Emily is real. She is so god-damn sexy with curves in all the right places, and I cannot help but crave to wrap my arms around her thick body.

  The puffiness around her eyes tell me she’s been crying, and I want nothing more than to pull her into me, to say to her I will make sure that no harm falls on her and her little one.

  “I know who did this,” she says. Her words snap me out of my daze.

  “Who?”

  She adjusts her spectacles, and her lips curl into a snarl. “My… ex. He took the hard-drive from my gaming room,” she says, as though she’s trying to refrain from swearing in front of her son.

  The words explode out her mouth, drawing my attention to her pink, plump lips. Fuck, what I would give for just a moment on those lips.

  Black hair flows onto her shoulders in luscious waves.

  “Did you see him inside your apartment?”

  She scratches uncomfortably on the side of her head. “Well, no. But I know it’s him.”

  If she has to know even half the thoughts running through my mind, I doubt she’d look at me the same. I wonder if she’d be as turned on as I am right now?

  As pissed as I am that something would make a girl as innocent as Emily cry, I’m slightly relieved to hear her say the word ‘ex.’

  “Have you checked for fingerprints?” She asks, breaking my dirty train of thought.

  Amused, I respond. “No, I didn’t think of that.”

  She rolls her eyes, and I see her nostrils flare-u
p. “Great. I’m sure there’s a criminal out there who appreciates your lack of initiative.”

  Feisty. I think I’m falling in love.

  “I’m messing with you. We have checked for fingerprints and we can confirm if they are a match to your ex once it comes back from the lab.”

  I smile at her, but she’s not amused.

  I stand to my feet when my eyes drop down to the little cleavage she has exposed. God, my dick hardens at the sight. Saying she has generously sized breasts would be an understatement, and I can’t help but imagine riding my dick buried between her tits.

  Walking back into the apartment, I bid my team and the police officers farewell and adjust my hardened cock before inviting her back into her apartment.

  As she stands to her feet, I get a proper view of her every curve. Fuck, I crave for her to remove her clothes. I’d ravish her on the spot, but first I need to put her son to bed.

  Her son amuses himself with a toy truck on the couch, and Emily heads back into her gaming room. I use the time to take another look around her apartment, and I already know I must do everything in my power to protect this woman and her son.

  A piece of paper stuck to her fridge held up with magnets catch my attention. When I close in to get a better look, I see it’s a ‘List of things to look forward to.’

  Ship Cruise

  Daxton’s first words

  Submit Game proposal

  Read twenty books on parenting

  Complete World of War app development

  Submit to iOS and Android for approval

  Visit the theme park

  “Ahem,” she clears her throat. “Are you here to help me get my hard-drive back or do you just plan on staring at my fridge all day?”

  “Honestly? A bit of both.”

  I change the subject before giving her a chance to retaliate. “Do you have any idea why your ex would break into your house and only take your hard-drive?”

  “Yeah,” she snaps, “because he’s a dickhead. He knows all my hard work is on that hard-drive and taking that would hurt me most.”

  For a moment, I contemplate asking her why she did not back up any of her data but decide against it.

  I hate talking about her ex. Just thinking of another man’s hands on her has me edgy. I’m amped to find this man, not only for him to return her hard-drive, but to tell him that Emily is now mine and he better steer clear from her, if he knows what’s good for him.

  Whether she knows it or not, Emily belongs to Detective Nate Warden.

  Emily hands me a picture, and as I grab hold of the photo, my fingers brush against hers. Her beautiful hazel eyes grow large, and I know she felt it—that wave of electricity that coursed through our fingers.

  I scan the image for a few moments. “This him?”

  “Yeah, that’s my ex. He’s a piece of work,” she affirms.

  I lower the picture and meet her gaze. Staring intensely into her eyes, before I speak again. “If he let someone as beautiful as you out of his grasp, then he sure is an idiot.”

  Hot cum oozes out my dick at the sight of her reddening cheeks.

  She takes a few moments to observe the tattoos on my arms that show through the whiteness of my shirt. Shaking her head, she straightens up her shoulders. “Okay… um… detective Nate, I guess I’ll hear from you soon?”

  I stand to my feet, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that she sees the excitement building inside my pants.

  “I’m going to clear up as much time as I can, but I’ll be back tomorrow,” I assure the curvy woman in front of me.

  “There won’t be a need for that. I’m pretty sure I can take care of myself if he decides to come back.”

  Just thinking of her alone with this Daniel character makes me want to break something. “No,” I assert, “There’s no way I’m leaving you and Dax by yourselves. I’ll arrange for a security guard to stand outside your apartment in case he dares to try and come back.”

  She swallows hard, “Yes, sir.”

  Whether she knows it or not, I look after my belongings. And this curvy Goddess in front of me is mine.

  Chapter Two

  Emily

  “Hi Emily,” Maureen, the receptionist, gives me a warm smile as she captures my details into her system, “I’m always so grateful for my early clients. Dr. Jansen’s finishing off with another client. She’ll see you in the next fifteen minutes or so.”

  I stand aimlessly behind the reception counter when Maureen speaks again. “What’s up with this weather lately?”

  “Um… Yeah, very strange,” I say and walk over to the waiting area. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s to get as far and as quickly away from Maureen as possible. While she’s a sweetheart, she strikes me as the type of person that would book the flight with the most connecting flights. That way, she would get to talk to as many people as possible.

  I’ve seen Dr. Jansen for the last two years. She claims to see a lot of progress, but I wonder if she’s just saying that to make me feel like these sessions aren’t a complete waste of money. I tried two therapists before finding Dr. Jansen. The first was too nosy for my liking, and I fired the second after she called the game I’ve been working on a ‘part-time hobby.’

  I flip through the same Cosmopolitan magazine that I’ve probably read front to back four times over in the past few months, and make a mental note to donate a few more recent magazines. I’m flipping through the pages, but my mind is elsewhere—all I think about is the detective from yesterday. Not only is he nice to look at, but the man is also a smooth talker, which makes him that much more dangerous.

  He arranged for a security guard to stand outside my door, which is so frigging weird. He stands outside my apartment, like one of the Queen’s guards. As I walked past him this morning, I wondered if he was specifically instructed to stand like a motionless statue, or if that’s just one of the perks of his job.

  Dr. Jansen walks out of her room and bids the previous client farewell, and I step into her office.

  She flips through her notebook, probably searching for the notes she wrote down during our last session. “How are things going?”

  Sinking into the sofa, I let out an annoyed sigh. “I had my apartment broken into, people at work still look at me like some alien out on a mission to make their lives miserable, and I’m convinced my dickhead ex is the burglar that stole my hard-drive… I suppose I’ve had better days.”

  She looks like she doesn’t know where to begin writing.

  “Fuck, Emily. Talk about having a shit week, right?” That’s one of the reasons why I love Dr. Jansen. She swears like a trooper, so I don’t feel uncomfortable being myself around her.

  “Why do you think Daniel stole your hard-drive? For drug money?”

  My fists tighten just hearing his name out loud. “I suspect he stole it because I refused to let him see his son. He’s a useless father. I’m not even sure why he pretends to give a fuck, you know?”

  I knew Daniel had an addiction problem from the moment he asked me out, but I believed I would be the girl that would save him. That my love would be enough for him to realize he doesn’t need the meth or the copious amounts of alcohol he consumes. For a while, it seemed like I was helping him overcome his addictions until I told him I was pregnant.

  When Daniel told me that he wanted nothing to do with me or his child, it hurt like a bitch. He even suggested that there’s no way the child could be his—like I was sleeping around while dating the prick.

  But now, I want nothing to do with men. Dr. Jansen believes I’m ready to go out and start dating again, but I’m honestly not sure if I can handle a man in my life right now. I can barely look after Dax and me.

  “I know I haven’t brought this up in three months, but I think you’re making a lot of progress and the meds have also helped with your depression.” Dr. Jansen says hesitantly. “I think it’s time we disc—”

  “No,” I cut her off. The mere thought of her comp
leting that sentence has me shrieking with discomfort. “I don’t want to talk about that. Not yet, at least.”

  “That’s fine. I won’t pressure you. When the time is right, you’ll know,” she assures me with a warm smile.

  I’ve discussed everything about my life with my therapist, but there is one part I’m not ready to talk about. I’m scared that my tear ducts will open and I won’t be able to stop crying if I have to say it out loud. As much as I love my shrink, I have never cried in front of her.

  I leave Dr. Jansen’s room and head off to pick up Dax from kindergarten.

  On our drive home, we play the Barney theme track. By now, I know the lyrics to just about every nursery rhyme.

  “Mommy, Stacy said she is my Valemtime,” Dax says, dancing excitedly in his car seat.

  “It’s Valentine, my angel. And who is Stacy? Is she your… giiirlfriend?” I tease.

  Redness spreads across his little cheeks. “No. I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says shyly. “She is just my Valemtime.”

  Even my son that can hardly string a few words together to form a complete sentence has more romance in his life than me.

  “Okay, so if Stacy is your Valentine, you must do something special for her. I say we get Stacy a nice red rose and a chocolate.”

  “Yaaay,” he cheers excitedly.

  “But, you have to give the chocolate to Stacy. You cannot eat it, okay?”

  His face sinks. “Awwww.”

  “Mommy will get you your own chocolate for your birthday, okay?”

  “Thank you, Mommy.”

  Grabbing hold of Dax’s hand, we walk towards my apartment. The security guard is no longer there.

 

‹ Prev