The Hot Sergeant (Second Chance Military Romance) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #2)

by Alexa Davis

  As I pulled up in front of the police station, my good mood fucking vanished and a soul-crushing weight pressed down on my shoulders. The memories of killing those drug dealers haunted me, and I couldn't help but think that my dream of starting a business and a life with Olivia was fucking pointless if I was going to end up in prison for the next twenty years for murder. Even if I could prove that it was an act of defense and I had feared for the life of my wife and myself, I could still be convicted of manslaughter; and since the media was reporting four men had died that fateful night instead of just two, I could be facing four sentences. Still, I had never been one to shirk from what I feared. So, I took a deep breath for courage and charged my way inside.

  "Mr. Porter, I didn't expect you to come walking into my office," Commissioner Harris called out to me from behind his desk, hanging up the phone on whoever he had been talking to.

  His secretary came rushing in behind me, flushing furiously. "I'm sorry, Commissioner. I told him to wait, but he just burst right in."

  "Don't worry about it, Melissa. Close the door on your way out and hold all my calls. Have a seat, Mr. Porter." He extended his hand in welcome over the pile of files that littered his desk and I sat down in one of the uncomfortable vinyl chairs across from him. "I figured that if I wanted to talk to you I'd have to get my entire police force to haul you in. That was, of course, if you hadn't disappeared to some non-extradition country far away where you would live the rest of your days in hiding with your millions of dollars."

  "That's billions of dollars, actually," I quipped. No way was I going to let this overweight bureaucrat demote me like that.

  "So what brings you here?" Commissioner Harris decided to drop the bullshit, and I did, too.

  "There weren't four dead bodies on that night; there were only two. I killed them with my own bare fucking hands, but it was an act of self defense and not murder. Anyone in my position would have fought those bastards to protect the lives of their wife and themselves. It was just bad fucking luck that they died. So, my question to you is this: are you going to press charges against me for murder?"

  "I appreciate you coming in here to face me like man. That takes balls," Commissioner Harris said. "Most people make the fatal mistake of running or going into hiding, and that ends up getting them into more trouble than if they just manned up and confessed like you just did."

  "I didn't come here to confess. I came here for answers. Now tell me, are you going to press charges against me?"

  Long seconds passed, and I could hear my heart beating in my fucking chest and my pulse rushing through my head. Finally, the Commissioner pressed his hands together in front of his face and spoke. "No. This matter was already investigated years ago. It was determined by the officers on scene and supported by evidence found by the coroner that the victims must have killed each other in a drug-related brawl. Interviews by your wife in the hospital confirmed this and no further statements were needed. The case was closed and we have no cause to reopen it."

  I exhaled the breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding and slumped in my chair with relief. "That fucking article in the Sunday paper said I was implicated."

  "Yeah, but not by us. The police department is not charging you with any crime and the case is not being reopened. All the allegations against you were made by the newspaper. It sounds to me like you have solid grounds to press charges against them for libel and slander. Would you like to file a complaint? I'll get an officer in here immediately to file it."

  "No, thank you. I'll deal with the newspaper and the reporter another way. Right now, I have someplace important I need to be."

  "More important than protecting your reputation?"

  "More important than anything."

  Chapter Three: Olivia

  The apartment felt strangely quiet with both Suzanne and Clara gone for the night. I was happy they both had boyfriends again, but it made me more aware than ever that I was alone. I wanted to be able to say that Tristan was my boyfriend and in my heart he was, but the logical side of my brain reminded me that he wasn't. He was just a guy who paid me for sex, no matter what emotions I thought I saw in his eyes. Why else would he have left that pile on money on the dresser and called our time together an appointment. I was alone, living in Los Angeles, and working as a prostitute. My dreams of being a model and finding love were crushed, and to make matters worse, my parents were arriving in the morning to tell me just how much of a failure I was. How was I supposed to convince them that it was a good idea for me to stay when all evidence pointed to the contrary?

  I turned on the television for some noise, hoping the mindless chatter of the afternoon talk show host would drive the negative thoughts from my head. When I wasn't thinking about what a disaster my own life was, I was worrying about Tristan. I loved him, and even if he didn't feel the same way about me, I didn't want anything bad to happen to him. The thought of him being investigated for murder tore me up inside, and the idea that he could possibly be convicted for it and put in prison made me tremble. I needed to distract myself from all these terrible thoughts and turned my attention to cleaning the apartment.

  I started by taking all the bottles of tequila and vodka out of the fridge and pouring them down the sink. Suzanne would be pissed off, but I had a feeling I could convince her that she'd drank them already and just forgot. Luckily, we were all models on diets, so there weren't any dirty dishes in the sink, but trash and laundry littered the apartment. I reached under the kitchen counter for a plastic garbage bag, and started filling it by grabbing the mousetraps under the sink and placing them in the bottom of the sack, followed by the empty liquor bottles.

  I walked around the living room, tossing empty diet food containers, old make-up bottles, and worn out magazines into the trash, barely listening to the television rambling in the background, but taking comfort in the sound of voices it provided. Next, it was time to gather up the laundry. I grabbed a basket and went around the room plucking up pink padded bras, printed tee-shirts, black stockings, denim shorts, and countless hair scrunchies. It was amazing how different the apartment looked without all that clutter and suddenly, I was feeling a little better about having my parents over in the morning.

  I pulled the vacuum cleaner out of the closet and was just about to turn it on when a sudden news bulletin caught my attention. Police Commissioner Harris was giving a press conference concerning the allegations against Tristan Porter. Holding my breath, I sat on the couch directly across from the television and listened with rapt attention.

  The Commissioner stood on a podium surrounded by reporters and said, "Our office has been flooded with calls asking about the murders that took place at the home of Tristan Porter years ago and inquiries pertaining to whether or not any charges will be made against him. In the interest of clearing speculation and ending this barrage of calls that have been hindering my officers’ ability to do their jobs, I would like to make the following statement..."

  I wrung my hands as he explained that the case was closed years ago when it was determined that the assailants killed each other and that both Tristan Porter and his wife were victims in the case and free of any suspicion. The case was closed and no further investigation was required. Because the assailants were deceased, no charges would be brought to bear.

  I sighed with relief on Tristan's behalf and was startled to discover tears of joy were running down my cheeks. Thank God he was going to be all right. As I reached for a tissue to dab my eyes, I was startled by a knock on my door. Wondering who it could possibly be, I opened it to find Tristan standing there grinning at me.

  Without even thinking, I flung myself into his arms and hugged him tight. "I just saw the news. I'm so happy for you and so relieved. I love you so much. I can't tell you how worried I was about you."

  Tears were running freely down my cheeks again as I hugged him and sobbed. He held me tight, hugging me to his chest, when suddenly he pulled back and stared into my eyes. "What was that? W
hat did you say?"

  "I was worried about you. I know you can take care of yourself, but I don't know what I would have done if you'd been convicted."

  "No. The other thing," Tristan said with wide eyes. His skin had gone pale and I realized what he meant.

  Swallowing hard, I said, "I love you."

  "You love me?" he parroted and the color started slowly returning to his face, even as his eyes grew wider and his hands began to tremble. "When? I mean, how long?"

  I'd never seen him speechless before and it unnerved me. He was always so confident and strong. Had I scared him off with my declaration of affection? I should have kept quiet about it, but it had come out of my mouth without my realizing it, and now it was too late. I decided I might as well go for it now and just pour out all my feelings to him.

  "I don't know. I never intended to fall in love with you. It was just supposed to be a job. I'd make you happy at the club and you'd pay me for it, but somewhere in the middle, I fell in love with you. The way you made my body feel such incredible pleasure – I never knew sex could be like that. It wasn't just sex, though, it was a lot of other things. The way you protected and cared for me, the way you were always concerned for my wellbeing, the way you opened up to me about the stories from your past and shared with me your dreams for the future. I felt an intimacy between us far beyond sex or friendship or employee/employer status. I fell in love with you."

  My heart was pounding in my chest as I stared up into his face. His gray eyes were unreadable as they swirled like a stormy sea. His face contorted and then suddenly he grabbed mine and pulled me towards him.

  "I love you, too, Olivia," he breathed and then kissed me on the lips with all the passion and love he felt for me in his heart. It forced my lips apart and our tongues danced around each other as he slammed me back against the wall with the power of his love. When we finally broke apart, gasping for air, he caressed my cheek and I saw that tears of emotion were glistening in his eyes. "I've loved you for a long time, but I didn't know how to say it. I couldn't imagine how someone as fantastic and sweet as you could ever love an asshole like me. Then you left the money on the dresser and I began to hope for the first time that maybe it was because you loved me."

  "It was," I said and we kissed again with fiery passion, unhindered, wild, and free. His hands slid up my shirt and fondled my breasts in just the way he knew I liked best. His thumb brushed across my right nipple and it puckered beneath his touch. I grabbed my shirt and yanked it off over my head, giving him better access. Obligingly, Tristan took my nipples and rolled them between his thumb and forefingers, pinching and tugging at them playfully while I moaned and arched my back, wanting more. I grabbed his shirt and tore if off his body so I could run my hands over his muscular chest while he buried his face in my neck and kissed me there, making me gasp and claw at his back.

  Then he stripped off my jeans, grabbing them by the waist and pulling them down to my ankles. As I stepped out of them, he stayed kneeling on the ground at me feet and began to gently kiss the outside of my panties. My pussy tingled and instantly grew wet at the feel of his lips touching me through the thin fabric of soft cotton. I started to remove them, but he stopped me with the gentle touch of his hand.

  "No, let me," he said in a voice that was thick with lust. "Tonight, I want to be the one to service you with pleasure. Tonight, I want to make love to you."

  He lifted me into his strong arms and carried me into my bedroom and for once, I was grateful that my roommates would be gone all night. He laid me down in the center of my twin-sized bed and began kissing my bare feet. Slowly, he worked his way up my calves, over my ticklish knees, and kissed his way up my thighs. Then, he peeled away my cotton panties and tossed them onto the floor. I spread my thighs wide, inviting him in, and arched by back, moaning and panting as he made love to me with his mouth, lips, and tongue. I gripped the headboard of my bed, gasping and screaming out his name as he brought me to climax, and the waves of an incredible orgasm washed through me.

  "Now it's my turn," I said when at last I had regained my senses. Tristan lay down on the bed, causing the springs to squeak nosily under his weight. I kissed my way all over his body, starting with his neck and working my way down his chest, where I nipped at his pectorals muscles and bit his nipples playfully. Then I traced my tongue down his strong stomach until I came to my favorite organ. I enjoyed making him groan and squirm with pleasure as I sucked his cock passionately, but before I could make him come, he stopped me and guided me to climb on top of him.

  I straddled his waist and enveloped his rigid cock slowly with the rippling folds of my tight cunt. He groaned with pleasure and clutched at the cheap mattress as I began to thrust on top of him. I lowered my torso towards his face so my breasts were inches from his lips and invited him to suck my nipples while I fucked him. The feeling was incredible, and I felt myself climax again.

  "Come for me. You're so beautiful when you come; I love to watch you do it. I love you, Olivia," Tristan breathed between groans of pleasure as I jerked and spasmed on top of him, clutching at his chest, as wave after wave of powerful orgasm flooded through me.

  When at last I regained my senses, Tristan pulled me down to lay beside him on the mattress. With a few adjustments to how I positioned my legs, he fit himself inside me from behind while lying beside me. His wrapped arms around me to clutch my breasts and waist as he began to thrust mightily. As I gasped and moaned and bucked back against him, his hand at my waist traveled down to my clitoris and massaged me there while he kept fucking me from behind and his other hand pinched my nipples. The triple stimulation was too much, and I orgasmed again, only this time, I couldn't stop. The orgasm just kept coming as I bucked and screamed and thrashed on the bed, until I could no longer scream out his name.

  Finally, the epic orgasm ebbed to a stop and I collapsed against the sweaty mattress, utterly exhausted and satisfied. Never before I had been so fulfilled and happy. Every nerve cell in my body was tingling with pleasure and joy, and I knew it wasn't just because of the incredible sex – it was because Tristan and I loved each other.

  Tristan wrapped his arms around me and we just lay there, relaxing all snuggled up in each other's arms.

  "I can't believe it took me this long to say I love you," I giggled with a gentle sigh.

  "Me, too. I've never been afraid of anything in my fucking life, but the thought of losing you fucking terrified me. I was afraid that if I said I loved you, you wouldn't feel the same way and it would ruin what we had."

  "That's crazy. How could I not love you?" I lifted my cheek from his chest and kissed his lips.

  "No one else ever has, not really. Janice was just in it for the money. My own parents were always distant and not very affectionate. They mostly left me in the care of nannies. It's why I liked BDSM sex; I could pretend to be stoic and hard hearted and nobody complained. It's also why I relied on prostitutes. I thought I could keep emotion out of it and then I'd never get hurt. Only it didn't work with you. I developed feelings for you right from the start, and it wasn't long before I was hopelessly in love with you. I just wish I'd had the fucking balls to say it before now."

  "Oh, I don't know. I think things turned out pretty well between us," I teased, making us both laugh. Then I sat up and said, "I'm going to take a shower. Want to join me?"

  "Sure." Tristan grinned He followed me into the bathroom where I turned on the hot spray of water and climbed inside. I was impressed that he was able to get an erection so soon after climaxing, but he was. With the hot water washing over our naked bodies, he pressed my back against the cool tiles and lifted my hips so that I was able to wrap my legs around his waist. I moaned with pleasure at the feel of his hot cock plunging into my still slick cunt and scratched at his back as he pounded into me with powerful thrusts. We orgasmed together, mashing our lips together in a passionate kiss as we climaxed as one. It was fast and passionate, but definitely satisfying.

  Afterward, Tristan ri
nsed himself clean in the spray of hot water and exited the shower so I could have the space to shampoo my hair and wash myself clean in leisure.

  We chatted casually as he toweled himself dry and I told him how much I was dreading seeing my parents the next day.

  "It's not like I don't love them, because I do; and I know they love me, too. It's just that they drive me crazy trying to tell me how to run my life. I've never been able to please them, and nothing I ever do is right in their view. It's so stressful trying not to get into a fight with them about it, but if I don't stand up for myself then they just run over me, like what I want doesn't matter. So I either break their hearts and make them miserable, or I sacrifice my own hopes and dreams to make them happy and become miserable myself."

  "Yeah, but this time will be different because I'll be with you," Tristan comforted me. He hung the damp towel on the rack and stood naked in front of the sink, inspecting himself in the mirror. "I'll be the middle ground. I'll be able to appeal to your parents’ sense of practicality and let them see that you're a grown woman capable of making good decisions. If that doesn't work, then I am a billionaire – I'll just bribe them. How big of check do you think it would take?"

  Tristan was obviously joking and it was just the right trick to lighten my mood and ease my fears. I couldn't help but giggle, even as I tried to splash him with water from the shower nozzle. A noise in the distance perked my ears and drew my attention.

  "What was that?" I asked.

  “Someone's at your apartment door. Finish washing your hair; I'll get it." Tristan said and strode from the bathroom still fully naked.

  "Wait! At least put on a towel!" I called out, but it was too late and he was already gone from the room. I heard him open the door and great whoever was on the other side. Moving quickly, I turned off the water and wrapped a clean towel around myself and rushed to see who it was. My worst fears were realized as I stepped from the bathroom to see Tristan standing side by side with my parents.