by Karin Tabke
She wanted more.
“You,” he rasped, “have the right to an attorney.”
Olivia cried out when he slid his finger from her. The subtle sound of a zipper sliding open had her dripping with anticipation.
“If you cannot afford an attorney,” he thickly said, then pressed her flat against the hood of his car before spreading her thighs with his knee. “One will be,” he continued from behind her, pushing his thick shaft slowly into her, filling her with such fevered abandon she truly thought she would explode.
Olivia closed her eyes and smiled. Dear all that was holy and unholy but she had never been fucked like this before.
“Provided for you,” he finished. He filled her as full as physically possible. Olivia gasped, her fingers stretched out, wanting to dig her nails into something and trying hard to collect her breath and breathe.
“Do you,” he breathed, grasping her hips, “understand these rights, as I have explained them to you?”
Olivia nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Say it,” he roughly said, grinding his hips against her ass.
“Yes!” Olivia cried. “Yes!” God, yes!
“Good,” he crooned.
His hips began the slow sensuous movements as old as time. He pushed her closer to the edge of sanity with each deep, powerful thrust. His holstered gun swept along the side of her hip each time he plunged into her, then each time he slowly withdrew. The handcuffs bit into her delicate wrists. The pain, entwined with the scintillating sensations of his cock and her steamy pussy, was the perfect cocktail for complete devastation.
“When I’m done with you here, I’m going to call for backup and fuck you in front of my entire squad,” he said, swirling and grinding his hips into her.
In her present state, the idea of her naked and being taken in front of men just like him titillated her beyond any sexy dream she’d ever had. Because even in her wildest dreams, she had never dreamt of exhibition sex. She was a good girl, a kindergarten teacher! Not a porn star! She moaned, her subconscious unwilling to judge as all her years of training, behaving, and following the rules.
Her pelvic bone pressed against the bend of the fender, perfectly meeting her sensitive clit. Wild, wanton thoughts, coupled with the hot cock thrusting in and out of her, had her body straining at the seams. She was on the verge of complete and utter annihilation. The honeyed lining of her pussy wept, giving his thick length complete access to her. He grabbed her by a hank of hair. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her… unless she begged him to.
Her back arched, his hips thrusting with piston precision into her.
“Damn you, Olivia,” he cursed and pushed her over the brink.
She screamed. The orgasm ripped through her, tearing up her nerve endings, shattering what little control remained. He dug into her, throbbing, pulsing, punishing, pushing her orgasm to higher heights.
For a crazy moment, she couldn’t see. She could only feel.
“Oh, God,” she screamed as the next layer of her was peeled off.
His strong arm slid around her belly. He pulled her up and turned her around. She cried out, her orgasm hanging suspended in the air, unquenched. He lifted her onto the edge of the hood and pulled her onto his thick, glistening cock. She reached up with her handcuffed hands and wrapped her arms around his strong neck. She cried out as he filled her to full. With his right arm around her lower back and backside, he clasped her left thigh, holding her steady.
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. His lips sunk into her neck. She let out a long hissing breath. What he did to her was simple, primitive fucking. Nothing she had ever done had ever felt so right. His lips tore at her skin, traveled down her neck to the hard tips of her breasts. Then, capturing one nipple between his lips, he suckled hard. Her suspended orgasm dropped and shattered into thousands of pieces as he pumped into her and assaulted her breasts.
She grabbed his uniform collar and wrapped her long legs around his waist. His body quickened, his skin flushed, and then he lost it.
She clasped her muscles around his cock and began to milk him, slowly, madly, completely, reveling in his powerful thrusts, his ultimate claiming of her.
“Livia!” he cried out and jammed his body into hers. In that one precise moment, Olivia knew what it meant to connect. Theirs was a primal one, based on nothing more than lust. But it was so profound it shook her to her foundation. And terrified her.
“Stop,” she gasped, trying to push him out of her.
Dazed green eyes stared at her as if she had just asked him to cut his dick off. Olivia shook her head, fighting the hot onslaught of tears that welled.
“No,” she said lifting her hands from around his neck.
“Livia,” he said, confusion contorting his features.
“Take these off of me,” she demanded, nearly hysterical.
He quickly unlocked the handcuffs. They fell to the ground. She turned to move past him. He reached out. She whirled, putting her hands up in the stop position. “Don’t.” She adjusted her blouse, smoothed her skirt, and stumbled toward her car.
He didn’t stop her. He stood stoically, watching silently as she turned the car and drove past him, their gazes meeting, locking, then separating as she sped past.
Emotion she couldn’t identify slammed through her.
As she approached the light she’d run, her cell phone lit up, then rang to the tune of George Thorogood’s Bad to the Bone. “Hello,” she said, closing her eyes.
“Did I hurt you, Livia?” his deep voice tenderly asked.
Warmth washed through her. The tenderness in his voice nearly did her in. Vaden was not touchy feely. Not that way anyway. His question and tone shook her. She looked in the rearview mirror, expecting to see his squad car. But, thankfully, he was giving her space.
“No, Sergeant.”
“Knock that off, Liv. Fantasy fuck is over. This is me you’re talking to.”
Ah, there he was, bad to the bone Vaden Holbrook. Him she could deal with. “I’m fine. I’m going home.”
“Good call.” He hung up.
But that didn’t mean he was gone. She knew he’d hang back and make sure she arrived home safe and sound. She couldn’t help a smile as she caught a glimpse of his patrol car prowling by just as her garage door began to close. A different kind of warmth filled her. She closed her eyes and could still feel his hot skin against hers. The dominance of his touch. His commanding presence. The scent of their sex wafted to her nose. She wanted him again. And with her want, her fear of what he was beginning to mean to her caught fire.
Chapter Two
Olivia stood at the garage door to her house for a long time. It hadn’t gotten easier—coming home to an empty house. The last year still seemed surreal to her. Tommy’s presence lingered, even though she had finally, just two months ago, cleaned out his closet and drawers. She’d sold his truck, given his golf clubs to her brother, and the balance of his personal belongings to his siblings. The only reminder of him, of the life that they had shared, was his wedding ring she kept in her jewelry box, a few pictures, and the folded flag from his casket.
She let out a long breath. It was as if the last ten years did not exist. And she felt guilty about that, but she knew, for her, cleaning out their house to make it hers had been the right thing to do.
She needed to get on with her life and she had thought just existing as if Tommy would walk through the front door any minute was the way to do it. Instead, Vaden showed her there was life after Tommy. And she felt more than a little guilt because of it.
She unlocked the door and walked into her house. She locked it behind her, turned on the hall light, dropped her purse and keys on the small table there, and made her way into the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat down at the small table.
Vaden.
Her body thrummed just thinking of him. He was—what was he? He was everything Tommy had been afraid to be. Vaden broke the rules; Tommy
had lived by them to the letter. Vaden spoke his mind, not caring who he pissed off. He backed his squad. It was why he was still a sergeant after fifteen years. Tommy had made Captain in ten by kissing ass and being PC. Her ire rose. He never took a chance or went out on a limb. Tommy had been a “yes” man, and she— Olivia let out a long bitter sigh, she was a “yes” woman. They’d been bookends. But it had worked for them. For ten years.
And now? She stood and tossed the empty bottle into the trash. Now, she wanted more, but she was conditioned to accept less. To be good, safe, and predictable.
Except tonight.
Her entire body shuddered and a flash of heat swept through her as she remembered the way Vaden had thrown her across the hood of his squad car. Dear Lord, she hoped he had turned that camera off before he pulled her over. But a secret part of her was titillated by the thought that he hadn’t. Was she a closet porn queen? Shame engulfed her. Tommy would roll over in his grave if he knew what she had done tonight.
She hurried down the hall to her bedroom. As if she could run away from herself, and the cravings she couldn’t suppress. She stripped and, as she shimmied out of her skirt, sex scents permeated the air around her. Vaden was virile, his scent as dominant as he was. The smoky smell of him had her melting again. She couldn’t help it. Her nipples tightened. She looked over her shoulder toward the doorway to her bedroom, wishing she were a Genie and could wish him here. She was hot for him again. And that was the problem.
Vaden Holbrook was a player. Thirty-eight, never been married, and no steady girlfriend that she knew of in the past eight years she’d known him. He was the cop all the other cops wished they had the balls to be.
She’d be a liar if she said she hadn’t admired him from afar on the few occasions they bumped into each other. She knew more about him from the wild stories the guys gossiped about than actual encounters.
It was kind of ironic. He’d pulled her over for running a red light two months ago to the day. When he’d realized who she was, after he ran her plate, he handed her his card, said he was sorry about Tommy, and to her surprise, told her to slow down and to call him if she needed anything.
That’s when her restlessness began. She hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind. A week later, after a few glasses of liquid courage, she’d dared herself to respond to his open invite to “anything.” She called him. He was Johnny On The Spot, and well... she’d closed her eyes and dove in head first with him, thinking it would be a simple fling. Her restlessness didn’t go away. It blew up. And things got complicated. She’d realized that tonight. She had feelings for him, strong feelings, and quite simply, she didn’t want to get hurt.
His record was spotless. Vaden Holbrook didn’t do relationships, and she wasn’t going to be one of his conquests that got all possessive and whiny, wanting more from him then he was willing to give.
And she wanted more than his dick.
Olivia opened her nightstand drawer, dug under her panties, and pulled out a Vaden-sized dildo. She sat down on the edge of her lonely bed and stroked it. Just as she had Vaden. When she realized what she was doing, she hissed and tossed it away from her.
Her need for him embarrassed her.
Was she lonely or just horny? Or both?
Liv flung herself back onto her bed, frustrated with her agitation. Her fingers caught the head of the vibrator. It was cold. Lifeless. Inanimate.
She wanted warm flesh and bones. Alive. Vaden.
And she couldn’t have him. Not all of him. He wouldn’t give it.
She traced her fingers down the shaft then lower to the base and pushed the warming button. Artificial warmth. She closed her eyes and ran a fingertip around the wide rubber head. Pretend flesh and blood. She flicked the device on. It hummed softly in her hand. Not Vaden. But it would have to suffice.
Her body warmed in anticipation. She’d ordered the dildo the day after her first encounter with Vaden. She left the hotel room they’d spent four hours furiously fucking in, and despite her multiple orgasms, she’d known as she drove home, she would want more.
It was a poor substitute for the real thing, but at least it offered some temporary succor.
Olivia slipped off her shirt, but left on her heels, stockings and bra. She felt sexy and naughty and… desperate.
She pushed the negative feelings aside and told herself it was okay. She was allowed to want this. Allowed to feel sexy and wanton. She laughed, the sound bitter. It might be the only sex she’d get for a while.
She slid a pillow under her hips, laid back, and closed her eyes. She bent her legs and parted her thighs, and turned the leviathan up a notch. Its soft hum always embarrassed her, until she slid it slowly down her belly, and her imagination took over. She plucked a taut nipple with her free hand and moaned, arching as the vibrating phallus skimmed slowly along her skin to the soft rise of her smooth pussy. She allowed it to hum just above her clit, the vibrations reaching out in intense waves, stimulating it to hard.
She gasped as the sensation racked through her. Yes, that was it. The tension built rapidly. Just as she was about to come, she slid it down along her slick folds.
Her hips rose. Slowly, she worked it back and forth along her sensitive labia, circling it around her clit, working herself into a hot, creamy frenzy.
Sensation concentrated in her clitoris. She could come in a second with the device, but she wanted something deeper. Penetration. She turned the dildo up and slid it into her slick opening. She arched, digging her heels into the comforter, wanting full penetration. Her body strained against the vibrating phallus as it hummed and slid in and out of her. God, she thought, if only—
Big hands clasped her thighs and warm lips pressed against her hard clit. Olivia screamed, terrified. Deep green eyes stared at her from between her thighs. He slid a big hand up to her belly and splayed his fingers, pressing her back into the mattress.
Embarrassment scalded her to her marrow. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Mortified, Olivia pushed away from him, wishing she could crawl into the wall.
“Relax,” he said. He wrapped his fingers around her hand holding the humming dildo. When she made to remove her hand, he tightened his around hers. Olivia fought the terrible urge to tell him to go, but then he slowly moved the dildo in and out of her while pressing his lips against her clitoris and licking the stiff head. Her muscles liquefied.
God, that felt good. She bit her bottom lip, stifling a moan of submission.
“Let go, Livia,” Vaden hotly whispered against her.
“I— can’t—”
“Yessss, you can,” his hot breath fanned across her molten pussy.
Olivia swallowed hard. His full lips slid sensually across her swollen flesh as his tongue laved her clitoris, and the dildo pulsed in and out of her in an achingly slow rhythm.
“Surrender,” he commanded.
And surrender she did. Her body’s hunger for carnal release overtook her mind’s inhibitions.
Vaden took his time. Painstakingly, he turned up her fire. One incremental degree at a time. Her cries for release went unheeded. Her wild undulations and desperate pleas did nothing to encourage him to give her what she so desperately wanted. As she hung on the precipice of utter insanity, he took her clit into his mouth and suckled her until she shuddered in a hard orgasm against him. Olivia screamed, the sensation so intense her body bucked and writhed, pulling away, then rushing back to him.
Vaden turned the vibrations down as she rode the waves, as one after another overlapped, the final one not as intense, but a slow warm wave of sensation that went on and on endlessly. Her crooning moans of pleasure sounded foreign to her, they were so deep and so self-satisfied.
When her body slowed to a long rolling wave, he withdrew the dildo and set it beside her.
Olivia licked her dry lips and slowly opened her eyes. Her damp body thrummed with the residual waves of her orgasm. She smiled and licked her lips again, feeling extremely naughty, and oddly
empowered. Laconically, she stretched like a sated kitten.
Vaden stood ramrod stiff at the foot of the bed, still in uniform and hot as hell. A soft sheen of sweat glazed his skin. His eyes blazed emerald. His nostrils flared predatorily.
He bent over her and placed something on her belly. “You left these behind.”
She looked down at her belly, and picked up her license and registration. He was gone when she looked up.
* * * * *
“Vaden!” Olivia called as he strode down the hallway. He stopped, setting his jaw, not wanting to turn around. Knowing what he wanted to do to her. And not sure if he could control himself.
Their tryst earlier on the dark country road had just about pushed him to his limit. She was so fucking sexy, he wanted to fuck her twenty-four seven.
“Vaden.”
He froze. He knew she was standing at the threshold of her room. And he knew what she looked like.
“Turn around.”
He did, slowly, bracing himself. His gut took a mule kick. She stood there in those fuck-me heels, sexy translucent hose, strappy garter belt, but it was that sweet shaved pussy with just a wisp of soft glistening golden curls that he couldn’t tear his gaze from. He didn’t know what he loved most about it, eating it or fucking it. He dragged his eyes from her sweet spot to her rounded hips, flat belly, tiny waist, then to her creamy tits in that sexy lace bra. Her lips were full, and her cheekbones high and defined. He’d lost himself more than once in her big china-doll blue eyes. His fingers itched to dig into her silky soft honey-colored hair. The first time he laid eyes on her at a PD banquet almost ten years ago, he knew Olivia Connor was a stunner who hid behind her stuffy clothes, tight bun and wire-rimmed glasses. Once he’d peeled off the layers, he’d discovered a smoldering tigress. And he couldn’t get enough of her.
“Why are you leaving?” she asked.
“I have to get back to the station.”
“You’re off tonight.”
He scowled. He needed to get out of here or he was going to— “I have paper to catch up on.”
