And will my dad give his best friend his blessing when my possessive cop decides it’s time to get down on his knee and ask to possess me forever?
*Possessive Policeman is an insta-everything standalone romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
Chapter One
Julian
“Hit the lights,” I say. “Now dammit!”
Gooch, my beat partner shoots me a ‘WTF calm down buddy’ look.
“How many cups of coffee did you have this morning, Sarge?”
I reach across him and hit the switch myself. I grab the microphone.
“Pull over,” I say from the passenger seat.
“Are you okay, man?”
“I got this one,” I say as my door flies open.
“You know we never make a stop—“
“Alone!” I say and shoot him a look that lets him know he can keep his ass in the seat.
“License and registration,” I say in a voice that would send shivers up the spine of even the most hardened of criminals.
The girl in the driver’s seat fumbles with her keys and reaches for the glove box. She pulls it open and god knows what all spills out onto the other girl in the passenger seats knees before falling to the floor mat.
“Just one second, officer,” she says. “I’m really sorry.”
The girl in the passenger seat looks up. I point to the floor letting her know she can get to work anytime helping her friend pick through the mess of papers on the floor and give me the documents I asked for.
“Let’s go, girls,” I say. My patience is wearing thin.
The driver finds the documents and hands them to me.
“Mr. Armstrong?” she asks.
“Officer Armstrong. What are you doing out this late Ms. Adams?”
Her mouth hangs open in awe. “It’s…Um…I mean it’s…9:17. It’s not late.”
“It’s over half an hour after sunset. You need to be in your apartment studying.”
“It’s summer. Classes don’t start until tomorrow.”
“You already bought your books for the summer semester?”
“Um…yeah.”
“Go home right now and put your nose in them.”
I hand her her registration and license back and straighten my back.
“Now,” I say.
She turns the key and the engine fires up. “Oh my god!” she says in frustration as she pulls away with the window still down.
“Oh my god is right!” the girl in the passenger says before they’re out of earshot.
I walk back to the car and sit down in the passenger seat.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man? You can get written up for that. You know the damn dashboard camera is running all the time.”
“Drive!” I say.
“Holy shit, dude,” Gooch says and does what I say.
If only he knew the reason behind my aggression.
Her.
Chapter Two
Abigail
I push open the front door and listen as I hear the knob hit the drywall hard.
“You said you were going to put that doorstop up, Jeff!” I yell at Katie’s boyfriend.
“I’m working on it. Chill,” he says as he stuffs another Cheeto in his mouth and watches SportsCenter reruns for at least the third time today.
“Uhhh!” I say.
I take off up the stairs and hear Katie’s steps right behind me.
She’s following me so closely I don’t even have a chance to slam the door behind me when I enter my room.
“You know him?” she asks.
“I thought I did. What an asshole.”
“Asshole is right. If you don’t want him then introduce him to me!”
“You’ve got a boyfriend.”
“Jeff? Yeah, boyfriend is right…as in will never be the amount of man that cop had in his little finger.” She pauses. “Is it just me or do you need to change your panties too?”
“Gross!” I say. But she’s right. As much as that was totally out of line and out of character for Mr. Armstrong I can’t deny there was something very, very hot about it.
And I’m not sure if I should be even more upset or more turned on.
I’m totally confused. No one has ever talked to me that way in my entire life, nor have they needed to. I’m a good girl. I do my schoolwork. I don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs. Why in the hell did he go off on me like that?
I pick up my phone and hit the number one which I have set to speed dial for my parent’s house.
“Hey sweetheart,” my dad says.
“Dad! What did you say to Mr. Armstrong?”
“Well, hello to you too.” He pauses. “What’s wrong?”
Now I’m stuck. I got upset without think and my emotions got the best of me. Now I have to backpedal. “Nothing.”
“It sure doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“I just…saw him today. That’s all.” Oh did I ever see him. How could you miss his height, muscles, and complete sexiness?
“Did he see you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, didn’t he say hello.”
“Um yeah. Sure. Sorry, dad. I gotta go. Love you and mom. Bye.”
I toss my phone on my bed and then decide to join it there with a faceplate onto the comforter.
“Who is he? Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”
“I need to be by myself. Out!” I say.
Without raising my head from the comforter I raise my arm and point to the door.
“I’m getting the details later.”
“You’re not getting anything. And there are no details,” I mumble through the fabric.
My head shoots up from the bed. “Out!”
Katie walks out my door and I can feel the rage pumping through my veins.
I’m not like this. Never like this. But Katie better chill.
Mr. Armstrong is my fantasy, not hers.
Chapter Three
Julian
I drill the bag with an overhead cross before giving it a good kick or ten and then finish it off with a spinning kick that’s so hard the chain holding it to the ceiling breaks and it falls to the floor.
“Daaaaamn, son!” Gonzalez says.
“I got your son right here, Gonzo,” I say grabbing my junk and pushing my way past him and to the lot.
I throw my duffel on the passenger seat and hit the gas so hard my Ford Mustang that it fishtails as I leave a trail of rubber behind me and a lineup of confused faces in the rearview.
They think I don’t see them standing there?
They think I didn’t hear the whispers?
“What’s gotten into him?”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Did Armstrong snap?”
“No Armstrong didn’t snap,” I say over the rock music that’s blasting from the speakers in my car. “But I damn near lost it.”
The first time my best friend asked me to keep an eye on his daughter while she was away at college I wanted to ask him if he’d been paying at all. As in paying attention to me.
I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off her ever since her eighteenth birthday party.
And I was beyond obvious at her graduation party.
That party was complete hell for me. Torture beyond what any man should ever have to experience.
As she marched around, practically skipping, in that little white dress that hit mid-thigh and didn’t cover her shoulders at all.
And don’t even get me started about the plunging neckline. I wanted to plunge my head right inside it right upstairs in her room, but I just couldn’t out of respect for her dad and all the years we’ve been friends.
And today?
I had to wear freaking Ray-Ban aviators after dark so she wouldn’t see me looking down her top from the angle I get as a police officer making a routine traffic stop.
But this was anything but routine. Anything but.
This is the girl I can’t stop thinki
ng about. Can’t stop obsessing about. The one I’m so damn close to handing in my badge over and pursuing.
And I won’t have to hand in my badge if I pull another stunt like I did today.
They’ll take it and there won’t be a damn thing I can do.
I’m lucky Gooch didn’t report me.
There’s just something that gets inside me, possesses me, every time I see her.
Something that possesses me that makes me need to possess her.
Make her mine.
I know she’s a good girl. No way she’s been touched. No freaking way.
And I’m gonna be the first.
Anybody tries to lay a hand on her they’ll have to deal with my wrath and at six foot five and well over two hundred and twenty pounds of pure muscle there’s a lot of wrath to be had. More than any man could withstand.
Bring a buddy to take me on? I’ll take him down too.
How messed up would that be? A cop ending up in prison because some guy tried to so much as touch her. And being a cop in prison is a death sentence.
I don’t give a damn.
It would be worth it for her. Anything would be. I’d give anything to be with her.
And I will be with her.
But first I need to protect her. Show her I’m here for her. Let her know I’m not just Mr. Armstrong her dad’s best friend anymore.
I’m a hell of a lot more than that.
And that started today. Mr. Armstrong is dead to her now. He died the day she moved out of her parents house and went away to become an adult at college.
Mr. Armstrong ain’t ever coming back. She’s an adult now. She can call me Julian, my first name. That’s what adults do.
And as someone who enforces the law I know eighteen is an adult in this country. I’m twice her damn age. Twice!
But the only number I notice is one.
She’s one in a lifetime. The only girl I’ve ever met who makes me feel this way. Who makes me feel so damn alive.
Who makes me know I’d throw my entire career away just when I’m getting close to hitting retirement age.
I don’t care about money. I care about her.
And I care about justice and there’s no justice in this world if I don’t make her mine.
Chapter Four
Abigail
Gender Roles in Modern Society, Professor Tracy Magnusson writes on the board and then underlines it like Zorro for good measure.
“What does it mean?” she says.
It’s the first minute of the first day of my first college course in my first year. I needed an elective so I signed up for Women’s Studies. Mrs. Magnusson is well known and I was really looking forward to this class.
I stared at the blackboard and one thought came to mind immediately.
After what I saw yesterday, and what I see now there is an absolutely clear difference.
Mr. Armstrong was a throwback. A take no prisoners nor any b.s. kind of guy who takes his coffee black and his steaks rare.
And the more time goes by the more rare a man like him becomes.
My eyes scan the room and I see unkempt boys that resemble nothing like Mr. Anderson.
They’re unshaven, totally out of shape in most cases, and their choice of dress this morning more closely resembles mine than the authoritative police uniform Mr. Anderson had on yesterday.
And from the snickers that sounded a lot like gossip and complaining that I heard before class these boys are displaying a kind of behavior that is anything but “alpha”…a word they love to use.
The boy in front of me is wearing non-prescription “fashion” glasses and an oversized T-shirt that is so long it should more accurately be labeled a dress.
I’m all for doing whatever floats your boat, but there’s no way any of these guys have what it takes to put the motion in my ocean.
But I’m still angry at Mr. Armstrong.
And maybe even more angry at myself. Yeah, I am angrier at myself. Definitely.
Why did his jerkish behavior turn me on so much?
“As women graduate from college and enter the workplace in greater and greater numbers when compared to men there are more and more challenges to face head on and they start here, in college…the place where we first leave the safety of our cocoons that we know as home life only to be welcomed to a world of passing exams, relationships, peer pressure, drugs available at every turn, and the possibility of being raped.”
She’s definitely not holding back I see.
“And once we finish university what do we have to look forward to? Securing housing, employment, transportation…even utilities and our home Wi-Fi getting hacked. This is the world we live in. A world where life comes at us head on, and fast. A world where we constantly are faced with choices, some of which are literally a matter of life or death. Choices. Choices. More choices. And many are terrifying especially when faced for the first time. Which leads me to…”
She turns back to the chalkboard and writes “Old fashioned men.”
“What’s the appeal you ask? Why would one of these dinosaurs thrive in our modern society? Simple. Imagine the pterodactyl spreading his protective wings around you and all those decisions and bad things just bouncing away, never even reaching you. He takes responsibility for everything, even things you aren’t even aware of because he doesn’t tell you. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t use Instagram to say, ‘Hey everybody look at the good thing I did and give me some social rewards for doing it.’ No, he’s not that at all. To him, the reward is in the doing, not in the recognition. The recognition cheapens the doing.”
She pauses.
“Imagine that millennials.”
Holy cow.
No wonder she’s a well-respected and well known professor. High school was basically a series of memorization tests. This is waaaaay different. This is critical thinking.
And this is exactly what I was trying to understand, but didn’t even know it…let alone get my mind around the concept.
Professor Magnusson just laid out the concept and directed it in…I look at my watch…under three minutes.
That still doesn’t exactly explain what he did, nor does it offer an apology for it.
But it does tell me he won’t be explaining it either, nor will he be apologizing.
He’s an older man from a different time, which I always kind of knew but never on the scale of what happened yesterday.
Yesterday was…I’m still not quite sure.
But now I’m sure of one thing.
That secret crush on him I’ve had the last few years is very warranted.
He’s a real man who makes no excuses and pulls no punches. And if someone at college didn’t understand their gender role, as today’s lecture is titled, and tried to lay a hand on me? Well, I have no doubt he wouldn't hold back any punches then either.
And the idea of him spreading his arms around me and offering me that protective shield from all the ills and harms of society suddenly sounds even more appealing.
And not only does it help me understand him a little better.
It helps me understand myself…and why I’m so damn attracted to him.
Chapter Five
Julian
I hit the button and the passenger side window in my Mustang slides halfway down.
The first of the students in her class exit the building and I keep an eye out for her.
“And…there…she…is,” I say right when I see her exit the building.
My cock hardens instantly. Damn, she looks so incredibly good.
No dress today. Just hip hugging jeans that show off that bubble butt of hers and those athletic thighs. And that tight white top.
Are you kidding me?
Her face still looks so young and innocent, but that body is screaming the opposite.
Damn she grew up in a hurry. I remember helping her dad hang that tire swing in the backyard like it was just yesterday.
She’ll have to walk right th
is way to get to the sidewalk so I’ll catch her attention in just a second now.
Or more.
Seems something has caught her attention. Or someone.
Hell no.
I’m out of the car and on my way to her immediately. The door’s still open because I’m not going to be long.
Just get her and go. A quick extraction and get her the hell out of here.
I’d use the police car except I’m off duty and cops aren’t allowed on campus anyways.
The cop car would let these clowns know just how serious I am about this. And they are clowns.
“Hey!”
Her head turns ninety degrees to face me as does this new friend of hers. I make a mental note to check out this new girl. I need to know who’s she’s hanging out with at all times.
“What’s up grandpa’s ass?” I hear and realize the two boys near them were actually trying to talk to them. From my angle in the car it looked like they were having a separate conversation but they weren’t. They were trying to talk to them.
And trying is the right word because they’re not saying another word to her. Attempt failed boys. Thanks for playing. Now beat it.
“Let’s go,” I say, the depth of my voice causing both girls to jump and the boys to take a step back and center themselves.
Then I see the look in their eyes and I recognize who they are and that they’ll be more than happy to have found themselves a fight if I give them one.
And the only one happier than they are to throw blows right now is me.
Protect and serve, Julian.
Protect and serve…even the scum of society.
It’s the two star football players on campus and much more importantly the ones who got off on a sexual assault last year because their damn athletic talents are more important than their character…at least to the university.
Not me.
And not the parents of those two girls they forced themselves on.
A Man Who Knows What He Wants Box Set 5 Page 25
