Bleed Blue 69: Twenty-Five Authors…One Sexy Police Station

by Anthology

  “You’re big.”

  I chuckled. That was always nice to hear at a time like this. “You think you can handle it?”

  Stretching and relaxing around me, she shifted her hips, preparing. “Bring it on,” she said, some of the bad ass in her coming out and egging me on.

  Gripping the bed frame and wrapping my other hand in Jaks’ silky hair. I started to move in her—our bodies moved in seamless synchronization, building a rhythm to move as one. But it wasn’t enough for me—stamping harder, I went faster.

  “Oh. Yes," Jaks squealed in gratitude.

  "Like that?”

  Every little noise from her urged me on to going faster then harder then faster again, building pressure after pressure I could barely contain. Her hands clutched my arms as her slick body bounced. I watched her breasts spring up and down in a seductive dance as I thrashed into her essence with complete abandonment—with as much force as I could muster.

  Jaks threw her head back, screams tearing from her throat—good screams. Shuddering and stiffening and shuddering again, she writhed beneath me, my name sputtering out of her like a beating drum, her cries demanding I, “Fuck her good,” all of this causing my dick about to explode. I reached around her gorgeous body to hug her closer to me as I slowed down my now determined thrusts to unload deep inside her. Ecstasy took over. Pulling Jaks over to let her head lay on my chest, I laid helpless for a minute or two—completely satisfied.

  “Why did we wait so long to do this?” She murmured, as she snuggled close.

  “Forget about it. It’s a new year.” Not many more words passed between us, but I knew this wouldn’t be a one night affair when she fell asleep in my arms. I wouldn’t let it be. I’d transfer if need be. Little did I know how important this day would become.

  Murphy’s Law

  By Josie Bordeaux

  Kyle

  “Nah, once she sees how great it is to live here, she’ll move. I’ll make it so she can’t resist. I’ve got the whole week planned out for her.” And I did. New York City will be like a dream place to live by the time Lana gets through Kyle’s Love NYC tour.

  Lana and I may have started hot and heavy, but a long distance relationship was wearing thin on both of us. She had a ton of excuses for not wanting to visit the city I grew up in, but I finally got her to concede. Now my mission was to have her fall in love with being here and convince her to move in with me so we could finally be together. And that’s all I really wanted.

  “Asher, are you sure about this?” Foster hit my back before going on. “I hope you’re not trying to fool yourself. It gets pretty freaking cold in New York. Especially, compared to Hot-lanta. It’s a whole different world up here than what she’s used to.” I turned to the detective who started around the same time as I had. At six foot with brown hair, Luc Foster and I had very similar looks. Only he had green eyes compared to my brown ones.

  “She’ll move,” I tried to say with conviction. I knew I was taking a huge gamble. Lana had just moved back to Atlanta, but she wasn’t completely settled there yet. But moving here? I had to make this week so irresistible she wouldn’t refuse.

  “Asher,” Hernandez spoke up. “Seriously, this girl has no idea what she’s getting into living with a cop. If anything, make sure she doesn’t talk to one of the wives. They’ll scare the shit out of her. She’ll tuck her tail and run.”

  I chuckled, but that was another deep fear I had. “No shit, right? I’ll make sure not to go near Tess and Blitzken, that’s for damn sure.” Although I wasn’t in the K-9 Unit, I’d heard enough to know how tough it was for Tess to adjust to moving in with Jake and his canine partner, Amadeus.

  “Heh.” Renner’s voice made my jaw tighten. He was always sticking his nose into everyone else’s business. “Not to mention if one of the wives finds out what Lana used to do…” About five guys joined in his laughter as my chest tightened and I tried my best to walk away. Dickwad couldn’t leave it at that though. His next comment set me off. “Lana Murphy with a sweet southern accent, blonde hair, blue eyes—she’s every man’s fantasy.”

  Fuck no. My blood fucking boiled. Clenching my hands into fists, red flashed before my eyes, as I turned ready to punch the asshole. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that referring to my girl. My arm was caught just as I cocked it back. Russell grabbed me by my arm, shoving me toward the door.

  “They’re just eggin’ you on. Don’t let them get to you.” He led me out of the room; the fucking pricks were still high fivin’ each other and carrying on.

  Fuck. I knew I should be used to it. Just about the whole fucking precinct had jacked off to the videos Lana made years ago. She told me she’d been eighteen, stupid, and just needed the money when she made them. The night she told me that she was in those videos was one I’ll never forget. We almost broke up. How do you handle it when the angel you just fell for tells you she was in porn? Low budget home videos she tried to say, but…come on—porn is porn.

  The moment we hit the door Russell changed the subject, congratulating me on a case I just closed. Actually, it was one of the most important cases in my career. I was one of those kids who always knew what they wanted to be when they grew up and I’d worked my whole life to be a detective. This particular case was one of the most important ones I’d have in my career. It was one of the reasons my heart was so into this job. A young college student went missing after what was thought to be a one-night stand. She was the second woman in two weeks who vanished around the same area. The gut wrenching details of how I found her will live with me forever.

  “She’s home now.” I gave a faint smile, still relieved to have found her. I really couldn’t stomach to say any more and focused on being thankful. The other missing girl wasn’t so lucky and that definitely didn’t sit well with me.

  Russell patted my back. “Good job finding her. I saw the notes on the case and thought for sure she might wind up on Frosty’s desk.” Detective Snow or “Frosty,” as we liked to call him, dealt with homicides and I was damn glad I didn’t have to discuss another case with him.

  Thankfully, Russell changed the subject back to who I was looking forward to seeing. My Angel. “So, what time does her flight get in?” he asked.

  I looked at my watch and my heart jumped, knowing I didn’t have much time to get over to JFK. “Her flight was delayed, but I need to get over there before it lands. I need to hustle so I don’t hit traffic on the Verrazano Bridge.”

  “Good luck, Asher. Remember…make it an offer she can’t refuse,” he joked.

  I nodded as my stomach churned with nerves. Lana definitely deserved the best. I just hoped what I had to offer her was more than enough.

  Lana

  Days Later

  Leaning over the sink, I applied another coat of mascara to my lashes. The bathroom was too cramped for Kyle and me to be in at the same time. I kicked him out so I could put on my makeup and change. I wanted tonight to be the special night he seemed to be planning—especially since this whole visit had been nothing but one horrible event after another.

  Tonight he wanted to take me out to meet another couple at a really fancy restaurant. He was insisting he wanted to make up for the, as he put it, “interesting” visit we’ve had.

  Interesting wasn’t even the word I’d use to describe it. From the moment this trip began I was convinced it wouldn’t be what either of us hoped for. With each horrible incident that occurred, it seemed like an omen, telling me I never should have stepped foot in New York City.

  My sweet Kyle had no idea I’d been here before and found nothing but disappointment. The last thing I needed him to hear about was an ex-boyfriend who lived here. A married one no less. I found that out the hard way.

  Despite my apprehension to visiting this city again, I held firm that Kyle and I were meant to be together. Yet with each horrible thing that happened, my faith in our destiny wavered. Through it all, I was determined not to cry.

  This week me
ant something to Kyle; I could tell by the excitement in his voice that he wanted this to be a memorable trip for me. Because of that, I forced a smile and held back all the tears that threatened to spill.

  My New York City tour had started out with a very turbulent flight. We encountered a storm that caused so much turbulence that the oxygen masks had dropped. That had been bad enough, but I was also stuck in between two of the largest men I’d ever seen. One spilled his soda on me and the other enjoyed having me climb over him to get out to change. I wound up tripping and landing flat on my ass in the aisle. My short skirt flashed everyone my goods, including helpless kids.

  Then when we landed, the plane couldn’t pull up to the gate. We had to exit using portable stairs, getting pelted with cold wind and flurries before getting stuffed into a crowded bus headed for the terminal.

  I had hoped that was the end of my horrible travels—but it wasn’t. My heel caught in a grate right before I entered the door to the airport. As I fell forward to the wet ground, my bag sailed through the air landing on a passing luggage cart. The airline swore they’d get it to me—after all it couldn’t have gone too far, could it? I guess it did because they still had no idea where it was. My bag was probably somewhere nice and warm. Unlike me in this cold and dirty city.

  Kyle had been late. My phone had died, so I had no way of contacting him. After sitting and freezing for the longest time, I finally decided to hit up the gift store so I could at least change my wet shirt.

  Kyle found me coming out of the store, carrying a new long-sleeved Otter’s t-shirt, my hair a mess, hobbling and still wet.

  That was his first glimpse of me in the city he’d been dying for me to finally see.

  And that was the start of our visit together. Kyle wanted to show me the entire city and each iconic place we visited turned out to be just as much of a disaster as the one before it. Nothing went right.

  I’m not a religious person, although my Granny tried to make me one, but I’m also not one to ignore signs. Since the start of our relationship, things hadn’t gone too well. I mean, how could they when he was falling over drunk when I first met him?

  Brushing out my hair one final time, I reminisced about how I first laid eyes on him. It had been my last weekend living in Vegas before moving back to Atlanta. My girlfriends wanted a final send off at one of the big hotels. They were still out partying when I was on my way back up to the room to be alone and stare out at the lights—my personal goodbye to the city I had thought would bring me new luck. It hadn’t but I knew I was still going to miss it.

  “Kyle?”

  “Yeah, Angel?” He called through the door and I smiled at the name he’d given me when we met in the elevator.

  “Do you still think it was fate that brought us together in Vegas?” I asked staring at my reflection, fluffing my short blonde hair.

  “It was fate. I’ve told you that.” He paused for a moment and I swear I could tell he was smiling, even though I couldn’t see him through the door. “We’re meant to be together, Angel.” My whole body strummed every time he called me that.

  Kyle had been left for dead—dead drunk that is—in the elevator by some of his so-called friends. I helped him up, he had called me his “Angel” and once he was sober, he pretty much chastised me for bringing a strange man to my room. I couldn’t argue with him. He was right. But there was something about his caring, deep brown eyes in the elevator that was completely endearing. He was like a sweet boy you knew in high school who would one day be a hero. And I fell hard for him. Which, if you knew my track record with men, really wasn’t the smartest thing.

  “Are you almost ready?” Kyle’s voice asked through the door. I swore I could hear slight impatience in his voice.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry. Just another minute,” I called out.

  Deep down I knew he was trying so hard to make this city look so appealing that I’d want to move here. Heck, each time he came to visit me in Atlanta, I’d try to do the same.

  But this city…it had been cold and although the flurries were beautiful, the next day the streets would turn the gorgeous white blanket to a nasty gray sludge. It was depressing. But I took one for the team and visited him this time, since Kyle always flew down to see me in Atlanta.

  I stood back and checked my makeup; still thankful I had enough sense to put my little makeup bag in my purse instead of that duffle bag. From the time I woke this morning, I had a feeling Kyle wanted to have a “talk.” It was either the “it’s not you, it’s me” or “I can’t live another day without you, please move in with me” speech.

  While I wanted the second one, I had no desire to move to this city. At all. But would he break up with me if I said no? My stomach churned and tears pricked my eyes at the thought. I loved Kyle so much. However, being in love long distance was one of the most difficult things I’d had to do. Not being able to slump into his arms after a long day but instead cradling a phone up to my ear was miserable. One of us had to give in or we might not last.

  Shaking off the thought, I straightened myself and tugged on the bathroom door knob.

  My stomach dropped when I looked down at my fingers now wrapped around that same door knob. It was no longer attached to the door. I now held the only way out of this tiny bathroom wrapped up in my fist. I inhaled deep and repeated the same thing I’d had to tell myself this whole trip—I will not cry.

  “Kyle?” I tried not to whine, but this might’ve been the last straw and I wasn’t sure if it had come out that way.

  “Yeah, Angel?”

  I swallowed fighting back the tickle in my throat. “Umm, the knob—it’s in my hand.”

  “What?”

  “I…the handle came off.”

  I heard him mutter an obscenity and then something else about how he should have called the Super before I came. I stared at the worn, round, silver handle unsure if I should bother trying to shove it back onto the lock itself.

  This was yet another omen.

  I was now convinced we shouldn’t be together. Or I shouldn’t be here in New York. Or…I couldn’t even think straight anymore, but no matter what, I was not going to cry.

  “Hang on, Angel. I’m getting a screwdriver and I’ll try to take the damn thing off.”

  Did he mean the door?

  I heard tools dropping on the other side. The sound of metal clashing furiously and so many cuss words all muffled through the worn wood door. I thought about trying to poke at the framed lock with my tweezers, but realized I didn’t have those. TSA had taken them. They were my good ones too.

  “I’m trying. Hang on,” he called through the door. One last obscenity and then I jumped when I heard a horrible thwack and the door shook. “One more,” he muttered.

  Thwack! I heard more mumbling and watched the head of the screwdriver slide through the opening in the lock, twisting around furiously. I could tell he lost patience a long time ago, but now he had just hammered the other door knob away and the thing still wasn’t budging.

  I heard one last inhale and knew my usually calm and contained Kyle was about to lose it. We’d only had one huge blowout fight when I told him one of my dark secrets, but that was the only time I’d seen him upset. Kyle was the most mild-mannered guy I’d ever met. And I loved him for it. This had to be his last straw and I wasn’t sure if that meant the last one for us too.

  The fact that we were both standing on opposite sides of the door and couldn’t get to each other was definitely a sign. One that I couldn’t ignore. My heart throbbed inside my chest scared to death of what it meant. Once that door was opened, I was convinced I’d get that breakup speech. Or maybe he’d wait until I was about to board the plane home—but it was coming. How could it not? Everything had gone wrong on this trip. Everything.

  “Angel, give me one more second. This time it’ll work. I know it, okay?”

  I nodded, fighting back with everything I had the tears that threatened to come. With every huge heavy swing he took at the doo
r, I stared at the wood. My entire body jumped at each loud bang the hammer took to the small metal contraption that was the only thing separating me from Kyle.

  One last huge thwack and the door swung open. Bam! Stars blurred my vision, and a horrible pain shot through my head immediately. The door hit me square in the middle of my forehead. “Ow!” I cried and cursed myself for not backing up and instead just staring at the damn wood.

  “Oh shit!” Kyle rushed to pull me off the floor and into his arms. Carrying me out of the tiny bathroom and onto his bed, he cradled me like a child. “Lana?” He asked. “Talk to me.”

  I held my hand over my forehead, knowing it was going to be a ginormous bump. Inhaling deep, my lips quivered but I held firm to my mantra. I was not going to cry—even for this.

  Kyle

  With Lana’s head in my lap, her body draped across my bed, I held an ice pack to her forehead. I grabbed my phone and shot a text off to Foster letting him know we wouldn’t be meeting him and Olivia for dinner. It was part of my plan for Lana to become great friends with at least one of the girlfriends or wives here, so they could show her around and she would feel more comfortable in this huge city. Now that wasn’t happening.

  “I guess this hasn’t really been the best trip, has it?” I asked as I checked her bump. The welt was already swelling and turning a horrible shade of crimson. The thing was smack in the middle of her forehead and the way her bangs swept off to the side, there’d be no hiding that for a while.

  “It’s been a little…off,” she said, trying to force a smile. During everything that had happened, she hadn’t cried once. She was a trooper and seeing her trying to still pretend she was having a good time, I had to give her a lot of credit. It also made me realize how strong she really was. Some of the guys were saying she wouldn’t be able to handle being a cop’s wife. After all that we’d been through and this past visit, I was pretty sure she could deal with it no problem.