by Ava Meyers
Cop Appeal
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COP APPEAL
BY
AVA MEYERS
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Cop Appeal
Copyright © 2010 by Ava Meyers
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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
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Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Tina Folsom, Susan H. and Cyndi F. for their friendship, fabulous critiques, and continuing encouragement with my “Cop” series! A shout out to Grace, who I’d be bugging except I want so much for her to finish Hugh’s story—I can’t wait!
EXCERPT FROM THIS BOOK, COP APPEAL
First comes love then comes pleasure…
Since Sarah hadn’t been expecting Luke’s visit and had gotten into the habit of eating cereal morning, noon, and night, he insisted on walking her to the deli around the corner and treating her to a gourmet sub. When she teasingly said she wanted to keep feasting on her very own sub for a while longer, he laughed and told her the special of the day was far larger than six-inches. That spurred a rather intense make-out session that started in the living room, traversed into the kitchen, and ended on the dining room table. But somehow he still got her into the shower and out to eat afterwards.
She wondered briefly at his insistence that they leave the house, but got distracted when he offered to give her a ride on his motorcycle. He didn’t have a helmet, so he wouldn’t take her farther than the deli, but even that short ride was exhilarating.
Pressed tight against him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him tight and loving the feel of his muscular butt jammed between her thighs. She closed her eyes, swaying with him when he turned the bike, their movements smooth. In sync. Natural. The cool night air was a wonderful contrast to the heat still pulsing through her, and when they got to the deli, she had to force herself not to beg him to keep going. To take her someplace far away. Someplace where they could be alone, with no ex-husband to worry about, no responsibility to interrupt them, and no insecurities to plague her.
They were plaguing her.
They taunted her with old fears that while the sex was spectacular, sooner or later he’d realize he could do far better than Sure-Thing-Sarah.
But this time, she refused to let her fears control her. Get over it, she mentally snapped. Maybe he’d get tired of her. Maybe he wouldn’t.
You finally stood up to Richard. Fight for what you want, damn it.
She wanted Luke.
Resolved to enjoy her time with him, she forced herself to take some risks. When they got off the motorcycle, she reached out and took his hand, basking in his smile. At the deli, he plied her with wine and dessert in addition to the sandwich, and she used the opportunity to feed him. When they returned to her place, she was feeling mellow and lazy, and she wanted nothing more than to explore his body from head to toe at her leisure. To show him how much she loved him, even if she wasn’t ready to say it.
She made her request.
“Sounds good to me,” he said.
CHAPTER ONE
Sarah Larson ended her day the same way she always did—with Luke Anderson inside her. First he entered her mouth. Then her pussy. Then finally her ass. Then he started all over again.
She took his thick length in every possible way imaginable, savoring every hot inch.
She gloried in the way he made not just her body feel full, but her soul, too.
As if she’d never hunger, never despair, never want for anything again.
As if she’d never feel more replete or complete than when she was in his arms.
“Luke,” she whispered, then released a prolonged moan as she gyrated her hips, moving his shaft in and out of her so it dragged against the sensitive, clenching walls of her core. Her lube made his thrust and retreat silky smooth, but even so, the pleasure was intense enough that it carried a bite of pain.
She matched the sensation by pinching one nipple, then she dragged her nail across it. Her clit, plumped with blood and demanding attention, throbbed as she rubbed the tip of his dick against it, then throbbed some more when he abandoned the sweet spot to shove himself fully inside her again.
“Yes, yes,” she chanted. “Fuck me, Luke. Fuck me hard.”
Enflamed by her frenzied commands, he powered in and out of her. His flesh slapped against hers in a steady rhythm, harmonizing with the squishy sounds of moist arousal and her jagged gasps of mounting pleasure.
Time and again, he rubbed against the area of her body that made her fling back her head and throw out her hands to clench at the sheets beneath her. The pressure inside her grew and grew and grew…
She yearned for satisfaction. She reached for it. She strained to find the release that would drain her of all worry and thought, even if it would only be temporary.
But this time, just as it had for weeks now, satisfaction eluded her.
Dragging her eyes open, Sarah blinked rapidly until the drab décor of her cheap motel room came into focus. Of course, Luke was nowhere to be seen. She was alone—alone except for her useless vibrator.
Her fantasies of Luke, the ones that had always brought her pleasure and a semblance of comfort in the past, were now tainted.
Because of him.
Not Luke—whom she’d lived without for four long years only to learn he’d recently returned home—but him. The one who’d been watching her. Threatening her. Stalking her.
The one who’d gotten too close. Because she’d let him get close.
Ironically, she’d met Richard because of Luke; they’d been cops in the same precinct together. He’d seemed nice; attractive and charming and far less overwhelming than Luke. Blue-collar background. Just less…complicated overall. Less to live up to.
Soon after their honeymoon, Richard had shown his true colors. He had a violent temper. A filthy mouth. A cruel streak. She’d rightfully been wary of him. On edge. Waiting for him to blow and show her that Jekyll and Hyde personality of his again. However, after the divorce, as if he hadn’t been psycho enough, he’d clearly lost a few more screws. He’d proven himself to be a serious threat two weeks ago when he’d pushed her down in the parking lot of the supermarket. Of course, he’d made sure there weren’t any witnesses, and he’d been upping the ante ever since.
Richard had lost it.
A few days ago, Sarah had gotten so scared that she’d actually fled her home for the sterility of this hotel room in a strange city, hopeful that Richard would never find her. She’d left everything behind but the basics, her memories, and the toy buried between her legs. And for what? The fear hadn’t subsided. Plus, she’d heard second-hand that Luke was back in Palm Springs and, if
his failure to mention her was anything to go by, obviously over her.
With a frustrated cry, Sarah withdrew her “Luke substitute,” a thick, blue latex dildo, from her body and flung it across the room. “Damn you,” she shouted. “Damn you both!”
Curling into a ball, she hugged her knees to her chest and struggled to catch a breath. “Damn me,” she murmured.
She shouldn’t have run. She should have reported Richard to the police. Should have stood her ground. At the very least, she should have confided in her friend Meredith about Richard’s freaky behavior, but she’d been too embarrassed to reveal exactly how foolish she’d been to marry him.
She’d just have to suck it up. In the morning, she’d drive home, and her first stop would be the police department.
Her decision had nothing to do with Luke’s return, she assured herself. She didn’t even know how long he’d be in town, after all. Plus, it wasn’t like he’d joined the Palm Springs PD. Most importantly, the man was just as likely to throw her to the wolves than protect her. Far more likely to do so, actually.
But maybe, just maybe, she’d catch a brief glimpse of the only man she’d ever loved. After all the heartache she’d been through, she felt she deserved that much.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and pictured Luke as he’d been the last time they’d really made love—he’d been twenty-six to her twenty-eight, with slightly long sandy brown hair, pale blue eyes fringed with the thickest lashes she’d ever seen on a man, his starched navy patrol officer’s uniform parting to reveal rippling abs and bulging muscles. She’d spent months loving her “younger” man, so she tried to muster some indignation that he hadn’t even asked about her when he’d run into her best friend, Meredith. Of course, Meredith had volunteered a whole lot of information about Sarah anyway, mainly about her modified marital status. Not that it had seemed to matter.
Her efforts at distraction—to feel pleasure rather than fear—were useless.
With her body still thrumming with unsatisfied arousal, she recalled the note she’d found underneath her front door mat three days ago, its hand-scrawled message ricocheting through her mind along with the music of a B-grade horror movie: I’m coming for you, Sarah. Soon. Nothing you say or do, and no one you ask for help, can stop me. In fact, they’ll just suffer for it. You’re mine, ‘til death do we part.
Nothing, not her favorite toy, not even her memories of Luke, could help her forget the danger she was in or how big a fool she truly was.
CHAPTER TWO
Several days later…
Luke hadn’t been back to Palm Springs in four years. Not since Sarah Larson had broken his heart. Not since he’d begun volunteering for every dangerous undercover op he could. Not since he’d decided life wasn’t worth playing it safe.
Now?
He’d heard Sarah had been divorced for almost a year, and hadn’t had a man in her bed since.
That was about to change.
The look in her eyes told him she knew it. So did the way she tried to shut her door in his face.
His hand shot out, slamming against the wood to stop it from closing. Through the opening, her gaze flickered over his shoulder, no doubt taking in the black leather seat and gleaming curves of his favorite motorcycle. It was a far cry from the shiny Mustang he used to drive before he’d left. Less show and more muscle. Not exactly something the sole heir to his father’s flourishing textile business was expected to be driving. That just made him like it more.
Luke had returned to Palm Springs despite Sarah, not because of her. He’d been fresh off a lengthy undercover assignment with the Demon Guardians, a notorious biker gang that had been terrorizing Northern California, when his socialite mother had called him, begging him to visit his father before it was too late. She’d made it sound like his father’s health had deteriorated in the six months since they’d all met in London. As it turned out, his father had never been better. Luke hadn’t confronted his mother about her deception but he hadn’t been planning on sticking around either. Then he’d run into Meredith Pierce. After an earful from her on Sarah’s single status, he’d promptly gone home and given his aristocratic, proper mother a hug that had lifted her off her feet. It was thanks to her, after all, that he was paying Sarah a visit today.
Her pale green eyes, which never failed to take his breath away, narrowed. “What do you want, Luke?”
“Want?” All kinds of visions popped in his head. Sarah on her knees with his dick in her mouth. Sarah splayed under him, her legs ratcheted up and wide by his arms, her neatly trimmed, golden pubic curls glistening with her pussy juice as he worked his thick length inside her. The lush, pale globes of her ass jiggling as he thrust into her from behind—one hand in her hair and tugging her head back while he sprinkled kisses along her spine. She’d had several lovers by the time they’d met, but she’d still been amazingly inexperienced in carnal matters. He’d put an end to that really fast, and she’d been an eager pupil. The memories of all their lessons caused his voice to deepen to a growl when he spoke again. “What makes you think I want something?”
Her eyes widened slightly, probably because she registered the arousal edging his words. Just as he suspected she would, she ignored it. For all her eagerness in the beginning, Sarah had turned out to be a bit of a coward when it came to truly pushing boundaries. Too bad for her he was back and intended to push them harder than ever.
She snorted and glowered at him. “I know Meredith told you about the divorce.”
He smiled wickedly. “Then you know why I’m here.” He tsked. “A year’s a long time to renege on a promise, Sarah. You should have called me.”
“So you could show up gloating that much sooner? Tell me, did the boys at the country club find it amusing that Sure-Thing-Sarah Larson couldn’t even keep her own husband satisfied?”
Any trace of amusement fled his body.
She knew he hated it when she called herself that, not because he gave a rat’s ass how many guys she’d fucked when she was younger but because she used the moniker to push him away. “From what I heard, it was Richard who couldn’t satisfy you. The fact he screwed around so publicly was a patently obvious cover.”
She gave him an unreadable look, keeping a firm hand on the door.
“Is that what you think I’ve been doing, Sarah? Discussing our personal business at the country club?” As if he’d actually hang out at his parent’s club while he was in town. He’d rather eat his mother’s favorite pâté, which he detested, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
“Haven’t you?” she grumbled.
“No,” he said, then tilted his head inquisitively. “But it sure makes me wonder why you’d think that. Was that why you ended things between us? Why you married Richard Walters? Because he was adequately middle class? Or because you thought I talked trash about you with the Palm Springs elite?” Either thought pissed him off. Even if they’d only gone out a few months before she’d met Richard, she knew him better than that.
Didn’t she?
He might have been born with the proverbial spoon in his mouth, but he’d never felt entitled because of it. In fact, he’d spent most of his time living his background down. He’d never used his money or connections to hurt others. Hell, he despised anyone who would. He’d fought his father tooth and nail to stay out of the family business. To make his own way in the world.
His father had even disowned him when he’d become a cop. They’d eventually reconciled, but it hadn’t been because Luke had gone crawling back to him. He made his own decisions and formed his own opinions. Screw what anyone else thought. That had been just as true when he’d gotten involved with Sarah despite what his peers had said about her. Apparently, however, their differing backgrounds had been a bigger deal for her than he’d known.
When he’d been sucking her nipples and going down on her and thrusting himself into her warm, wet body, some part of her had doubted him. That knowledge made him want to kill someone, starting with
whoever had made her believe the shit people said about her.
Her glance momentarily flickered away before she tilted her chin up. “I don’t need you coming over telling me you ‘told me so.’ I’ve gotten enough of that as it is.”
She tried shutting the door again. Luke stopped it, this time pressing inward until she was forced to step back.
He’d let her push him away once before. He hadn’t fought for her. Hadn’t told her just how very important to him she’d become. Maybe it had been male pride. Or maybe he’d just believed she’d come around. But he’d been miserable ever since and he wasn’t about to let that happen again.
Entering her apartment, he silently closed the door. With her flushed cheeks, glittering eyes, and disheveled hair, she looked mad. And turned on.
Which described how he felt to a tee.
But she also looked the slightest bit scared.
Of him? Of his changed exterior—his hair, cropped short and the tips bleached but now growing out, his pierced ear and his dragon tattoo on the side of his neck, all accoutrements of his undercover life?
Or of what he made her feel?
He sure as hell hoped it was the latter because if she really feared him—if she really thought he could harm her—then there was no hope for them.
He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the door, doing his best to look harmless. “I’ll admit, I’m glad you divorced the prick.” He hadn’t known Richard well, but he’d gone to school with him. Money aside, the guy had always acted as if he was entitled to more than the average human. “But I’m not gloating. I am, however, looking forward to what comes next.”
