SEIZED Part 4: A Steamy New Adult Romantic Suspense Thriller (Seize Me Romance Fiction Series)

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SEIZED Part 4: A Steamy New Adult Romantic Suspense Thriller (Seize Me Romance Fiction Series) Page 6

by Coulton, JC


  The shower water hums and steams as I hold her against the warm tiles and slowly pull down the shoulder straps of her flimsy dress, first one then the other falls, allowing me access to her neck and shoulders. The silky material slides further down, dropping below her breasts. I inch it down even further, so she’s naked from the waist upwards. Her thighs shake as her breathing intensifies.

  Carrie leans back against the wall, pressing her erect nipples out at me as her hips and pelvis undulate in waves under my strokes. I make the hair on her arms stand up, and send goosebumps in waves across them.

  Her mouth drops open with desire. I bite her lower lip softly before moving down and kissing her nipples, alternating as I start to lick and suck one and then the other in my mouth.

  I blow on them and then use my palms and the pads of my thumbs to tweak them into even harder peaks of pleasure, reveling in the way she starts to toss her head backwards, mumbling in pleasure. She’s going wild under my touch. She moans, breathing hard and whimpering as the tips of my fingers begin to breach the lace panties she’s wearing.

  The material is soaking wet with desire. I slide them slowly down her thighs with the rest of her dress. My fingers stroke and touch the sensitive skin down her legs. The steam swirls around us, and she beckons me onto the tiles under the rushing water.

  It rains down on her body in rivulets. I want to worship so I sink to my knees in front of her. I tell her to part her legs, and she does so without protest. The hot water streams down the inside of her thighs, sending a flush to the surface of her soft skin.

  I gently part her outer lips and start to lick at her folds, sipping at her sweet nectar as she begins to get wet under my tongue, the hot water diluting her desire. I feel her thighs open further under my touch as she relaxes and accepts me into her body.

  Her fingers snake into my hair, massaging my scalp in time with the plunges of my tongue on her clit. I slip my tongue under hood, alternating between swirling circles and her favorite flat-tongued caress. I reach around and grab her beautiful ass, squeezing and kneading it, pulling her into my mouth as she begins to wriggle and beg me to fuck her.

  My cock is huge now, as thick as it gets and throbbing with desire for the moist passage my fingers have been exploring. She’s gasping for me. I stand up and her mouth is open, panting as our lips meet in another passionate kiss. I take her mouth, holding her cheeks as I kiss her deeply while my cock nudges at her pussy. The water’s still hot as she wraps her legs around me. Pulling my hardness into her slick cleft. She rubs me fluidly between the lips of her pussy, her whole body moving in a rhythm that beckons me to slide the tip of my engorged head inside so I can feel her clench around it.

  I grab her hips and pick her up, whispering in her ear as I slide my cock deep inside of her. Her back is against the smooth wall of the shower. Our hips are locked together, and I begin to thrust with long, smooth strokes. I feel her body jerk at the peak of each entry. Her breasts press into me. As she starts to get closer to coming, her breathing quickens, and a red flush spreads up her neck.

  The sound of the water rushes in my ears, the emotion on her face is obvious as she claws at my back begging me to go faster, to fuck her harder. I feel my balls clench and tighten as I near my own peak. I force myself to hold off, waiting for her to reach her own high.

  She’s so close, I can tell. Her eyes lock on to mine, and I see her pupils dilate as her insides tighten and suck at my cock, pulling me further and closer to orgasm as she explodes around me. She screams my name, her head tipped back, baring her throat to me as the water streams down. I come hard, exploding deeply into her warm folds, holding her close, falling into her, disappearing into peace and darkness.

  I’m not sure what time it is when I wake up from that incredible dream. The sound of Brenda coming in the door with sleeping George in her arms pulls me from the light, morning snooze. The dream is a memory now, fuzzy and bittersweet with the realization it may not ever happen. Carrie has shut me out and it affects me more than I’d like to admit. The safety I was starting to feel about her presence is now gone; it’s replaced by confusion, regret and anger.

  Brenda settles her son into bed and creeps back out to the lounge, tossing me a rug to ward off the chill that’s starting to creep into the air. She takes a seat on the end of the couch, pushing my feet out of her way while she lunges at my plate of peanut butter crackers, scoring a couple before I can stop her.

  “How you doing, sis?”

  She looks quizzically at me and says, “I’m good, but more importantly, how are you doing?”

  She knows something is up from the look on my face. I love her fiercely in that moment.

  “We’re doing pretty well, Blake. You and I.”

  “Yah, we are…” I say and I mean it too.

  “It wasn’t too long ago that these were all we had to eat, remember?” She gestures at the plate of crackers on the table.

  “Whatever it is, it’ll work out.”

  “It’s really good to hear that. Now, brother of mine, I think it’s time you get your butt into bed and get enough sleep to devise a plan on how you’re going to find your girl.”

  I smile. It’s funny, after that dark soul of a night, I think she may have just offered me the closest thing to an answer I can hope for.

  “Roger that,” I say and make my way to the comfort of my pillow.

  Chapter Ten

  Blake

  Whatever it is she said comforted me enough that I’m able to sleep soundly. Either that or my body is too exhausted, wrung out from carrying the weight of the case. I work out most mornings, but when the alarm goes off today, I pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep.

  Both Brenda and I learned how to self-soothe from a young age. It’s one of the paradoxically cruel symptoms of an abusive childhood. You learn how to make yourself feel better. This is sad when you’re a kid and feeling alone. As an adult, it’s one of my most valuable traits. I don’t even use alcohol to shift the way I feel anymore. It means I can operate with self-sufficiency. It means I can rely on myself even when other people let me down.

  I do this for a while, coming to every now and then as the apartment comes alive underneath me. I can hear George having breakfast, chatting away over his muesli when my phone rings. It’s my boss.

  “Anderson?”

  “Good morning Lieutenant, what can I do for you?”

  “It’s not looking like a good morning from my perspective, Detective.”

  My gut starts to sink. “What’s happened now?”

  “That’s a question I’m interested in asking you, son. The way it stands now you’re going to need to take some time off work pending an investigation on your involvement in the Lee case.”

  I know why, it’s obvious and I also know there are rules for her to follow in these situations. I make it easy for her this time.

  “Sure Lieutenant. I understand. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “You’re going to need to come down to the precinct today for an interview. What time can I expect you?”

  We agree on four in the afternoon, and although the writing’s been on the wall for some time, I still feel a little sick.

  “Don’t forget your gun and badge, Detective. And see staffing admin on your way out. They will need your work cell phone and all access keys until this is resolved.”

  I agree and she hangs up. It’s strange to have an unexpected day off. It’s even stranger to consider what life will be like without being on the force. She didn’t say it directly, but I know that my involvement with Carrie was frowned upon from the start.

  The brass must have finally had enough. There’s only so much a cop can do before being called out as insubordinate. I’ve been walking that line too closely. I feel ill. I don’t want to lose this job. I love being a cop. I love Carrie too, and the thought of what she’ll say about this makes me feel worse.

  It’s not like I can let her know too much or even ask her for advice o
n how to play it. I have no idea what she’d say. What she really thinks about me or what Cooper has told her either. When it comes to Carrie James right now, I’m flailing around in the dark.

  I need to pull myself out of this place. In a few hours, I’ll find out what’s happening with work. Until then, there’s nothing I can do, except try and make the most of an unexpected day off. I wonder what George is up to, other than filling up with cereal and chatting to Brenda so loudly, I can hear him through the ceiling and the floor below my bed.

  I squashing the anxiety about what’s going to happen later, and head downstairs for coffee.

  “Morning dude,” I greet him.

  “Morning, Uncle Blake…” He chants up at me.

  “What’re you up to later, buddy?”

  “I’m building a volcano,” he says proudly. “It’s for my school science project, and it’s actually going to explode!”

  His excitement is contagious. I remember doing something similar myself. I don’t want to muscle in on his project, so I offer to help if he needs me too.

  “Yeah, come on!” He grabs my hand in his. It warms my heart. I decide there’s nothing better I’d rather be doing on a forced day off. I dedicate myself to the impromptu lesson he’s teaching. The little guy is super proud of himself. He can’t wait to show me what he knows about chemical reactions. It’s the cutest thing, watching him push out his proud little chest.

  We set up the eruption station as Brenda makes jam. With summer ending, she’s decided to go all traditional. The house fills with the smell of berries. She’s cooking in a massive saucepan, stirring every now and then.

  “That looks like a witch’s cauldron, you know,” George points out.

  “Ha ha. Very funny, you won’t be talking about witches when I’m hoarding the best jam for myself, will you?”

  My sister has an infamous sweet tooth. We both do, but she’s more disciplined than I am in keeping it in check.

  This jam-making mission is part service for the school fair and part personal supply. She likes to contribute to George’s school community in any way she can. I just like the jam. I always sneak a couple of jars for my desk drawer at work. It’s the perfect late night pick me up when I’m on shift. Not that I’ll be on shift for much longer. It seemed pretty clear that I’m being suspended. Why else would she have told me to bring in my gun and badge? The thought of surrendering makes me itch with discomfort. Being a cop is my passion; it’s a huge part of who I am now. I don’t think I can bear it if Jacob takes that away.

  Jacob is a hard boss. Her standards are often impossible to adhere to. It means she gets the best out of her officers. Sadly, it also means there are few second chances. I’ve already been extended one of those. I’m aware that my status as an alcoholic works against me, in her eyes. I’m also aware that the media debacle that Neon caused a while back could and probably should have been the last straw for me. In fact, it seems every time I have something to do with Neon, it ends badly. I should take it as a sign to stay away for good. The day goes by slowly. I’m nervous about the meeting with Jacob. There’s nothing I can do, but wait for it to play out.

  George is a sweetheart. Brenda cleans up around the house. Despite my angst about the axe that’s about to drop, I enjoy myself. Being with family is the best thing I can do to take my mind off it all, but I still wonder what Carrie’s doing. She’s constantly on my mind.

  Finally, it’s time to leave the apartment and find out my fate. When I pull into the parking lot, the good spots are all taken. I do my best to maneuver into another, tighter spot near the fence, and I’m already grinding my teeth. It’s not a good sign, but I can’t afford to complain.

  I make my way up the ramp, through the front doors and past processing. There are a few tattooed thugs and city boys waiting to be interviewed. I don’t spare them a second glance.

  The desk sergeant greets me with a mock salute. He’s on the phone. I don’t stop and chat. I know Lieutenant Jacob is waiting for me and if I don’t want my ass in a sling, I’d better get in there. I pass the cage and the mock jeers of my fellow detectives. Now is not the time for joking around. They obviously don’t know what today is about. I just want this over with.

  I knock on her door and wait. She signals to me that she needs another five minutes. I feel like a schoolboy outside the principal’s office. It’s not unusual for me to be in trouble, but I can already tell from the look she gives me through the glass. This is going to be worse than ever. If my friendship with Neon or my romance with Carrie has been outed, I’ll have no excuses.

  Jacob invites me in finally. I take a seat in front of her without being asked. Hell, what more can she do? Discipline me for sitting without permission? I look across her desk and meet her eyes. I have nothing to be ashamed of, but I have disappointed her.

  “Detective Anderson, I received a call last night from the FBI. They say you intervened during a critical surveillance operation. Would you like to explain to me what the hell you were doing in New Jersey, and why you were associating with known criminals?”

  “Honestly, I thought Neon Lips might have some ideas about April. I went to check it out. She owes me one. That’s all it was.”

  “You’re not even on this case anymore, Blake!” Her tone is sharp. She must have taken some heat from above to be so worried.

  “Agent Cooper also tells me you have history with Neon Lips. You may have forgotten I started this assignment after some issue you had that made it to the papers. Is all of this true?”

  “Well, not all of it, but yes. I’ve known her since she was fifteen…”

  “Save me the history lesson. What I want to know is if she’s already caused you such public grief, why are you still in contact?”

  “The last time we spoke it was before the media got hold of the Senator story. Someone did me in to the press. I’m sure it was Neon, but I had nothing to do with any of her business dealings. I got hold of her last night because of the information she might have on April Lee.”

  “Detective Anderson, I need you to confirm that you are not in a romantic relationship with Neon Lips before we go any further.”

  “No. I am not in a relationship with her anymore. It ended years ago. After that, we were friends. That’s all.”

  “Detective, you know I’m on your side. I’ve always had a soft spot for you, but there’s nothing I can do this time. The decision has been made. Effective immediately, you are officially suspended from your role as a NYPD Detective. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  I nod. “I know I should have said something earlier. I took a chance on Neon and I understand that you’ve got no choice.”

  “I’m sure you’re aware there’ll be a full investigation into your conduct on this and other cases that may or may not have involved Neon.”

  “I’m prepared for that, Lieutenant. I have nothing to hide. I know I was doing a good job. I was onto something.”

  “Regardless of that, Anderson, I need you to surrender your gun and your badge to me now.”

  I hand over the symbols that have come to mean so much to me.

  “I’m sorry to be the one to do this, Anderson. Your union rep will be in touch to advise you of recourse. Internal Affairs may also contact you for an in-person interview. Make sure they can reach you.”

  I leave her office without another word. I feel numb. I’ve been suspended. I don’t stop at my desk. I don’t say goodbye to anyone. I just keep walking. I get outside, jump into my car and start driving home. All I can do is wait for the outcome. I feel more powerless than ever before. I’m not angry. It’s strange, everything feels surreal. Even the busy traffic appears further away then ever. I’m in a bubble of isolation, driving towards a future I don’t understand.

  The only person I want to see now is Carrie James. She hasn’t taken my calls today, so to me, she’s further away than ever before. I’ve lost the woman I love, and I’m facing the end of my career. Jesus, how did this go so wrong?<
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  Chapter Eleven

  Blake

  Now what? The phrase runs over and over through my mind. This is the worst I could have imagined. I’m suspended. There are so many things I wanted to say to Jacob back there. So many moments where I wanted to lose my shit and tell her she was wrong.

  Thank God I didn’t. There was no way I could have kept a cool head. I would have walked out fired instead, I’m sure. She’s doing what she has to do, but I thought she would have backed me up with the Feds. I respect her; well, I respect the work she’s been doing, anyway. She’s got a name for being fierce and unyielding. I admire her commitment, but this feels like the opposite. Jacob is bailing out because the going got tough, or the brass snapped their fingers. Fuck!

  I decide to call Ryan. He’ll have the inside word after being stuck on desk duty with that wrist injury. Our precinct is too small for gossip not to get around. There has to something more to this than Neon. Who cares if she’s my ex? It’s not even relevant. That’s what doesn’t make sense.

  I suspect the real reason for a suspension is because I’ve been getting too close to Jessup. I need to find out who’s pulled the plug. It’s not like I’ll be gunning to take them down. I just want to know. It’s wise to find out who’s batting for which team around here. If there are a bunch of cops protecting Jessup, I’m going to have serious issues getting any further in this trafficking case.

  “Ryan, brother. It’s me.”

  “Blake, I heard. How are you?” His serious tone tells me he’s aware of the gravity of what’s happened.

  “Buddy, I’m floored too, man. It was the last thing I expected.”

  “What did Jacob say? Why?”

  “She said it has to do with knowing Neon. We have some history.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Honestly bro, that’s all she said.”

 

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