Hot Cop

by Laurelin Paige

  Chase arches an eyebrow. “Are you asking how you might bribe a police officer out of getting a ticket?”

  I cozy up to him, tugging on his shirt. “Not just any police officer. I’m asking how the women try to bribe you.” I wink, and it is a game, but also I really want to know. I want to know what he comes face to face with everyday. What women offer him. What his temptations are.

  But the minute I touch him, Chase is on the defensive. “Stand back, ma’am.”

  I don’t have to move since he’s already stepped away. “Now turn please and place your palms on the vehicle.”

  “Are you...arresting me?” A tremor of excitement runs through me. This game suddenly got fun. “On what grounds?” I turn around and put my palms on the car like he’s asked, pretending I’m put out.

  “Attempting to bribe an officer of the law.” He comes up behind me, so close I can feel the heat of his body and smell the familiar musk of his scent.

  “But I hadn’t even gotten to the bribing part yet!”

  “It counts.” He pats me down, and I’m pretty sure it’s nothing like how officers really pat people down, or there would be a lot more people talking about it on The View. His hands feel along the sides and under my breasts but then he cups them and squeezes them together before moving lower down my body. When he kicks my legs apart, his hands explore up the entire length of my thighs and his fingers rub along the crotch of my panties.

  “I have nothing to hide,” I say breathlessly as he swipes inside my panties this time. “I promise.”

  He stands back up and twists my arms so my hands are gathered at my lower back. “I beg to differ,” he says low at my ear. “It seems you have quite a prize down there. I bet a lot of people would want that very much if you didn’t keep it hidden.”

  He punctuates his statement with the click of his cold metal handcuffs as he slips them on my wrists. “You have the right to remain sexy,” he says. “Anything you say can and will be used to get you in my bed.”

  I bite back a giggle at his twist on the Miranda rights, but Chase’s delivery is completely solemn, which makes my breath ragged and goose bumps rise on my skin.

  “You have the right to use my body to give yourself a delirious, life-changing orgasm.” He bends in close to my ear and whispers. “If you have trouble...don't worry, I'm a bit of an expert in that department.”

  Yes. Yes, he is.

  He straightens and resumes his regular tone. “And trust me, I know how to put these handcuffs to good use.”

  And now I’m so wet I’m dripping.

  I’ve never been so lucky to be pulled over in all my life.

  Chase opens the door to the back seat of the police car but suddenly he pauses. “Are you expected anywhere right now?”

  “Uh. No.” I try to guess exactly what he’s getting at. “If you’re asking if I’m still okay with playing Get Arrested by the Neighborhood Hot Cop, I’m cool. This is completely consensual.”

  I must have guessed correctly because he nods slightly then says, “You can argue about it more at the station,” and pushes my head down with one hand so I don’t bump it as he puts me inside.

  He closes the door and then gets in the front seat and starts the car.

  I’m grinning as he drives us off the street into a dimly lit corner of the Corinth parking lot, which thanks to our lack of infrastructure updates is really dimly lit. Next, he picks up his radio. “Dispatch, this is 898 going on e-call,” he says.

  I want to ask him what he just did and what e-call means, but I already know he won’t tell me. Not right now, anyway. I make a note to ask him later.

  He hangs up his radio and shifts to face me. “Now. What are we going to do with you?”

  He’s so good at the role playing—well, yes, maybe because he actually is a cop—

  but he’s so good at pretending that all of this is real, that I’m really just a stranger who he’s caught breaking the law, that he’s really arresting me.

  He’s so good, I decide he deserves for me to try to give him my best character in return. I try to imagine what I’d really be feeling if I’d just been arrested and were afraid for my reputation, but it only takes me three seconds to realize that real-life emotions are not appropriate in this situation. In real life, if I were cuffed in the back of a police car, I’d probably be guilty of something big, and not daydreaming about how I was about to bang the arresting officer. In real life, if the arresting officer was touching me the way Chase was—the way I hope Chase will later too—it would be sexual assault.

  So instead, I abandon reality and play the scene I think would be fun.

  “Please don’t do this, officer,” I beg. “Do you really have to take me into the station? I can’t have an arrest on my record. I just can’t!” I sound pretty authentic, if I do say so myself. My voice cracks and my lip trembles. I can’t fake tears, but I wrinkle my face so it looks like I’m on the edge of crying.

  His rubs his scruff as his stare turns greedy. “It sounds pretty important to you to avoid this arrest.”

  “Oh, it is. It is. I’ll do anything.”

  That’s all it takes to get him in the back seat with me.

  I scoot away from him, intent on acting shy despite my offer.

  Chase won’t let me forget. “You’ll do anything?” he asks, scooting after me until I’m backed into the corner. He slides his hand up my bare leg not stopping when it meets the hem of my skirt.

  “Anything, Officer Kelly.” I lick my lips and widen my eyes. “My hands though... Maybe you could undo the cuffs?”

  He laughs with a hint of fake meanness in his tone. “I think I like the way you look wearing my cuffs. And I’m pretty sure that anything you could do to get yourself out of this could be done just as easily without your hands.”

  “Oh,” I gasp as though I’m way too innocent for what he’s suggesting. “But if that’s the only thing that will get me out of this situation, then I guess…”

  “It’s the only thing, sweetheart.” He’s already opening his pants for me. Already stroking the length of his hard cock. “Unless you’d rather I take you on down to the station.”

  “No, no! Please. I’ll do it.” This sure as hell better not be a game he plays with other women, because this is our game, dammit. I’ve decided.

  I watch him as his hand pumps up and down his erection once more, and I wonder for a minute how difficult it’s been for him to keep his hands off himself. I’ve made myself available to him every time he’s asked, but still. He’s had to be tempted.

  It’s an extra turn on to me right now, knowing that he’s saved himself. Knowing that everything inside his cock has been waiting for me. It’s got me hot and wet and eager. Though my character’s pretending that this is terrible, real life Livia Ward has never been so eager to put a cock in her mouth.

  I pull my knees up underneath me on the back seat, then I bend and suck him off.

  He doesn’t take control this time, and I don’t wait for him to, either. I know what he likes. I know the way he wants my tongue and how deep he wants me to take him in. I give it to him exactly like I know he loves, until his thighs are tensing and his breathing has grown shallow.

  He lays a hand on my head then, petting the loose tendrils of my hair. “Would you swallow for me?” he asks above me, and I’m not sure if he’s asking as arresting Officer Kelly or as the guy who’s saving all his sperm for me. “Would you take all my cum down your throat if I asked you to?”

  I’m still trying to decide how to answer, or if I even need to. My mouth is otherwise occupied, after all, and speaking isn’t at the top of my priority list. But if those weren’t factors, and if this weren’t a game?

  I’d told him we had to do this right. That we had to save all his sperm for babymaking alone, and I meant it. Right now though, I wish I didn’t mean it. I wish that there was a Chase and Livia that existed somewhere else, in another dimension, where the goal wasn’t a baby and our time together didn
’t have obligations attached to it. Because then I would. I’d do whatever he wanted me to. I’d drink his cum. I’d wear it all over my body. I’d beg for pearl necklaces and wrist icicles and maybe sometimes I’d be with him without thinking about his cum at all.

  Maybe.

  But there isn’t another dimension.

  And I don’t have to answer for real because he cups his hand around my neck and gently pulls me off his cock and presses his face up near mine, as though he means to terrorize me.

  “Wasn’t it good enough?” I ask, forcing my voice to tremble. “I can do better! I can swallow!”

  “Good girl.” He nips at my ear, and it tickles and makes my toes curl. I’m helpless because my hands are bound, and that makes this even hotter. “I knew you’d swallow. But I don’t want you to. I want my cum inside your cunt.”

  I gasp dramatically. “Does it really have to be that, Officer? Can’t it be something else?”

  “No. It has to be this. You said you’d do anything and this is what I want.” He pushes my thighs apart and kneads at my clit through my panties. “You’re soaked. You want it too, baby. See?” He sticks his finger inside my crotch and scoops up some of my wetness to show me.

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” I protest.

  “It does. It means you want me. Taste how much you want me.” He puts the tip of his finger to my mouth and pushes until I open up and suck my wetness off his finger. “Good, right? That’s how much you want my cock inside you.”

  God, I really do. I’m antsy with how much my pussy aches for him.

  “But.” I give him a final objection. “I’m not on birth control, and I could get pregnant.”

  He laughs. “Sounds like a personal problem.”

  I have to bite my cheek so that I don’t laugh too, though, for some reason it doesn’t really seem as funny as it once might have.

  I don’t have time to ponder on that because Chase is moving on with our scene. After pushing me back against the door, he pulls my legs out from underneath me. “You’re going to sit back and be a good girl while I take off your panties,” he says. “Next you’re going to get on my lap, and you’re going to ride me until I come. Then, and only then, if I come good and I come hard, then I’ll take those cuffs off your pretty little wrists, and I’ll forget I ever saw you crossing that street tonight. Got it, sweet thing?”

  I press my lips into a pout and nod. I pretend to struggle as he pulls my panties down my legs and pockets them, and he pretends to reprimand me, telling me the harder I make this for him, the worse trouble I’ll be in when this is over.

  Finally, I’m bare and my skirt is hitched up to my waist. Chase sits back and pulls me onto his lap where I sink down easily onto his cock. I’m so used to him now—his size, his fit—I adjust quickly, but I whimper as though the invasion is painful. As though it’s the worst thing in the world to be sitting on him, my breasts bouncing even in my bra as he helps lift me up and down over him.

  And in a way, it is the worst thing in the world. Because in this moment, while we’re sweating and moaning and he’s hitting that one spot and my cunt is tightening around him, I realize how alive I feel. How young. How far from thirty and death and the graveyard. Not only do I feel it right now while I’m playing this naughty game with Chase, but I felt it at the wet lab and in his bedroom and the hotel room the first night we were together. I felt it in the restaurant on our first date and in the library when he helped me shelve books. I feel it whenever I’m with him. Not just when we’re naked and fucking, but when we’re teasing and talking and just being together.

  And that is the worst thing in the world to realize.

  Because we’re temporary, he and I. And this isn’t going to last.

  I’m still thinking about that when I climax and the pleasure that pulses through me has an edge of sadness. He follows quickly with his own orgasm. I slump on his shoulder, panting, trying hard to blink away the tears that are gathering in my eyes.

  When Chase has recovered, he lifts me off of him and tucks himself away before pulling out his key and unlocking the cuffs. Taking one hand, he rubs my wrist where it’s gone red from the metal.

  “That. Was. Fun.” He grins widely at me. “See? You’re fun.”

  I start to deliver the same old protest I always deliver when it occurs to me—

  maybe all of this youth and aliveness isn’t just because of Chase. Maybe I’m those things all on my own. He might have brought it out in me, but it doesn’t mean I can’t hold onto it. Even Ryan sees it in me. I’m young. I’m fun. I don’t have to be afraid of turning thirty. If I were really at death’s door, would I be fucking sexy policemen in the back of their cars or having a baby on my own?

  No. I wouldn’t.

  So I genuinely grin back at him. “You’re right. I am fun. And guess what else. I’m not dying.”

  “Uh. That’s great?”

  “Yeah. It’s pretty great.” Then, because I’m fun and young and alive I lean forward and kiss him. Kiss him really good. Like I mean it. Like I mean other things too. Things that aren’t actually possible between us—like how nice it would be to visit that other dimension and thank him for showing me this other side of me. Things that are maybe too nice to say to just a guy who I’ve contracted to impregnate me, but it’s okay to say it like this. As long as I only say it like this, in a kiss.

  His eyes are shining when I pull away, and he can’t seem to stop looking at me.

  “Where’s your bike, anyway?” I ask, trying to get the attention off of me.

  “In for maintenance.” He hasn’t let go of my hand. I notice that now.

  “And what’s e-call mean?”

  “I was signing out for emergency only calls. Basically I was taking a dinner break.” He’s still staring at me, still studying me like he doesn’t want to stop.

  I push a strand a hair behind my ear, suddenly nervous from this strange new tension between us. “Is that what you call this? Dinner?”

  He shakes his head slowly, as though not quite sure of himself. “I don’t know what to call this. I’ve never done this before.”

  My heart speeds up for no apparent reason. “Which part?”

  “Never had sex in a patrol car. Never fucked someone I was pretending to arrest while on duty. Never fucked anyone at all while on duty.” His lip curls guiltily. “Now I have used handcuffs. I can’t deny that.”

  I giggle. “How could you not have used them? They’re your main prop.”

  “Exactly.” The humor dissipates and the air between us feels stretched and thin. It’s not uncomfortable. Just fragile.

  Then Chase says, “But I’ve never done anything quite like this. There’s never been anyone like you, Liv. There will never be anyone like you.”

  And now I can’t breathe. Because those are words that Other Dimension Chase might say to Other Dimension Liv and they might be beautiful and they might mean everything.

  But in this dimension, Livia Ward knows that beautiful words never mean everything. They’re only a prelude to a packed suitcase and a lonely bed.

  And whatever I’m thinking is crazysauce. We’ve been roleplaying all night, and my head’s a mess. That’s all. He didn’t mean it how it sounds.

  I clarify to be sure. “Of course there’s no one like me. Because I’m the only woman you’ve ever been contracted to impregnate. Right?” I throw in a laugh to make sure the mood is light, like it’s supposed to be.

  “Right,” he says smiling in return. “Because you’re the only woman I’ve ever been contracted to impregnate. Of course.”

  It’s dark, though, and it might mean nothing, but I’d swear his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

  14

  Chase

  “Are you touching yourself?”

  There’s a breath, a pause, and another breath. “Yes,” Liv finally whispers. “I am.”

  We’re on the phone—she’s at her house and I’m in my car on my way from the station. The past four da
ys have been a mess—I got called in for a fatal car accident that’s needed a lot of follow-up and Liv’s been working a few extra shifts while one of her coworkers is away and I had double babysitting duty this week—and so it’s been the better part of a week since I’ve been inside her. Since I’ve come at all. And I am about to explode. This morning I got hard pouring a cup of coffee because it reminded me of the long silken tresses of Liv’s hair. Yesterday it was from eating a scone, remembering the quick pink dart of Liv’s tongue as she licked scone crumbs off her lips.

  And don’t even get me started on the backseat of my car—every time I see it, I’m hit with the full fucking force of what we did there two weeks ago. She’s my first policy violation, the first time I’ve ever broken the rules as a cop, and I should feel guilty, but goddamn. Every fucking second of that night was worth any of the trouble it could rain down on my head.

  And now my already-hard arousal is painfully hard, just remembering her moving over me with her hands cuffed behind her back. The rub of my jeans against my dick as I shift gears in the Audi is almost too much. I have to unload inside her before my body revolts and I come in my pants like a teenager.

  “Keep touching yourself,” I tell her over the phone. “I need you ready when I walk through that door, baby, because I’m not going to be able to wait.”

  “Okay,” she says, in that breathless, absentminded way that lets me know she’s starting to touch herself in earnest now. I thump an impatient hand against the steering wheel. Fuck. I want to be there now, want to see the glide of her fingers over her slick pussy. Except in this state I’d be too impatient to watch for long; I’d push her fingers out of the way and make her use my cock to masturbate with instead.

  The drive is only a few minutes, but I’m a wild man by the time I get to her place. I’m still listening to her whimper and pant over the phone as I pound on the door, my cock thick and hard in my jeans, my balls full and aching.