Cuffing Her: A Small Town Cop Romance

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Cuffing Her: A Small Town Cop Romance Page 12

by Emily Bishop


  “This might give you a better angle,” he says. He then plunges his tongue deep into my pussy. I want to arch my head back and close my eyes, but I want to watch more. I will my body to stay in place as I watch his tongue delve in and out of my cunt.

  He takes his middle finger and flicks my clit with it, holding his hand to the side so I can see better, and I appreciate him for it. Watching him fuck me with his mouth is the hottest thing I’ve seen in my life, and that’s saying a lot—at least since I met Ben.

  My orgasm builds, and I keep watch as his finger and tongue work their magic.

  Then he looks up at me.

  We lock eyes while he licks and curls his tongue all over my pussy, and I moan even as I maintain eye contact.

  There is a challenge in his eyes. He’s wondering if I’m going to succumb to his pleasuring. He’s wondering how much longer I can make it last. My eyes narrow as I stare at him, and he slides a finger inside me even as he continues to use his tongue there.

  That does it.

  I cry out as my body pulses with an orgasm, but he doesn’t stop. He drinks up all of my juices, his tongue still working its magic in my pussy as I come back to Earth. When he flicks my sensitive clit, I jump, and he grins up at me.

  “Now why don’t you go for a ride that you can’t see?” he asks, and I’m confused as to what we’re about to do next.

  He lays down on the bed, his erection at full mast, poking up into the air. Just seeing it makes me wet again. He pulls me up and maneuvers me to sit on his lap, facing away from him.

  “Ride,” he says, and I lift my bottom and guide his hard dick to my opening. It slides in easily, and I sit all the way down, filling myself to the brim with his cock.

  “Mmm, yeah, just like that. Now, do as I said. Ride.”

  I shift my hips up and down, sliding along the length of him. Every time I slide down, he fills me, and my g-spot tingles. He grips my hips and holds me down, then he moves me from side to side as his dick shifts inside me, never scooting out even an inch. I ride him deep as I enjoy the sensation of full penetration. I can’t see anything that’s going on down there, but I like it all the same. I am simply feeling, riding him from side to side.

  “Now up and down,” he says, and I obey, lifting and dropping my ass as I fuck him. He grabs my hips and helps with the work, sliding me up and down as my pussy opens to him in a continuous pumping motion. Another orgasm builds, but I might be the last one to come.

  “Fuck,” he breathes, and he increases his pace as he lifts me then brings me back down, fucking me hard. I release my own animalistic moan as I bounce on his dick, and I grab my breasts and pinch my nipples, the sensation bringing me even closer to climax.

  “Just like that. Just. Like. That,” he says. His hands have a hard grip on my hips as he lifts and drops me, my pussy dripping wet as another orgasm beckons.

  “I’m going to come,” I breathe, then cry out in pleasure.

  “Good,” he says.

  My window’s closing here, so I reach down and rub my thumb along my clit. The second I do, my entire body pulses with a powerful second orgasm.

  I cry out into my bedroom.

  “Fuck!” Ben yells.

  His dick pulses inside me. He’s reached his own happy ending. He stops his rhythm, though he keeps his hands on my ass as my heartbeat pounds in my ears. I sit with him inside me for a moment longer before I slide off and lay beside him. The two of us lay side by side as our breathing slows and our bodies cool.

  No matter what Ben may believe about me, one thing is for sure. When it comes to our bodies, they trust one another fully. As mad as I’ve been at him since our last altercation, I can’t help but feel glad that he’s here with me. I’m safe and protected in my room, and then I think about the window outside.

  Ah, there’s reality.

  Ben turns and looks at me, his expression curious. He’s observant. He can tell that I’ve tensed. When his eyes search mine, I shrug.

  “Just thinking about the window,” I say.

  “That’s not what you should be thinking about after something like this.”

  “Well, it happens to be a pressing issue when I’m not otherwise distracted.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Here.”

  He rises and grabs my clothing. He tosses it to me on the bed, and I have no shame watching him dress as I do. His body is perfect. I still haven’t gotten my chance to tongue him like I want to, but that simply means there’s more promise for the future.

  If we can ever learn to fucking trust one another.

  Once we’re both dressed, Ben unlocks the door and steps back out into the living room. He assesses the damage, then turns to me.

  “We can’t call anyone to come fix it tonight, but a little plastic wrap and some duct tape should serve you until you can. Based on this, it looks like the intention was to scare more than anything. I don’t think they’ll be back, but just in case, you should lock your bedroom door as well as the front.”

  Just like that, conversation resumes as normal. Still, I find my anger toward him has melted quite a bit, and I nod. I’m grateful that he doesn’t want to stay and play Big Protector.

  Right? I’m definitely glad that’s the case. Ben doesn’t stay after sex. That’s for the best, for both of us.

  Maybe it’s another trust issue. That’s kind of our thing.

  I locate the supplies and together we patch up the window and clean up the glass. It’s not the most attractive thing in the world, but it will work until I can get it fixed.

  I turn to face Ben. “Thank you.”

  I wait for a snarky comment about how he came to save the day and a thank you is all he deserves or some such nonsense. Instead, he grins and leans in to kiss me on the cheek. My skin tingles where his lips touch.

  “You’re welcome. Call me if you need anything, even someone to be here.”

  “I will.”

  I consider asking him to stay, but I decide against it. I walk him to the door and unlock it. When I open it for him, he’s quick to step outside.

  What is this relationship we have going on, anyway?

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” I say, and he nods.

  “Have a good night, Naomi. And hey,” he says. I stare at him and wait for him to go on. “We’re going to get through this, OK? All of it.”

  It’s a vague statement, but I nod my head. No matter what, it’s an encouraging one, especially since he used the word “we.” Makes me think he might consider me more of a partner than a criminal now.

  “We sure will. Goodnight, Ben.”

  “Goodnight.”

  When I close the door, I have renewed hope. Maybe things will work out for us in the end after all.

  Maybe.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ben

  I take a sip from a steaming cup of coffee and walk into the station. It’s too hot, and I resist the urge to spit it out. Instead, I swallow it, and the liquid burns all the way down my throat.

  Maybe this is a lesson in patience.

  I don’t have much of it left. We’re several days into this yacht theft investigation, and I still have almost nothing to go on.

  “You look like you’re in a great mood this morning.”

  I glance over at James, who stares up at me from behind his desk. I scowl and shrug. I’m allowed to scowl when I’m the one responsible for crime becoming a regular part of this town. “I’m not. We need to take some action today. We need to dig deeper for clues.”

  “On the yacht case or the break-in?”

  James isn’t up-to-date on Naomi’s situation, so I tell him about the events of the previous night.

  Obviously, I leave a few little details out. Like how amazing Naomi’s pussy is when it’s sliding up and down my dick.

  James frowns as I give him the details. “So, Naomi is involved in this again. Are you still blind to the fact that she’s behind this?”

  That statement puts a stick in my craw, but I
let it slide. We need to work together, and we can’t do that if I keep letting James’s rough edges piss me off. Besides, he’s trying to see things from all angles. I can’t fault him for that.

  “I know she’s involved, but I don’t think she’s guilty of the crime. There’s something she isn’t telling me, but after last night, I have no reason to suspect that she is a member of the crime ring responsible.”

  “And you know this why?”

  “Because who gets attacked by their own gang?”

  He mulls that over, and I can tell I’ve finally made a point in Naomi’s favor that he has to consider. “Still,” he says, “It could be a set-up. Something to get you off her scent.”

  I consider that, but I dismiss the thought. I know Naomi. I don’t know her that well, because she won’t let me in, but if I’m completely honest with myself, I’m not letting her in either.

  What a pair of fools we make.

  She is beyond frustrating though. She challenges me at every turn, which isn’t something I’m used to. In the Special Forces, we worked as a team. We trusted each other with our lives. Her insubordination, her refusal to confide in me, leads me in circles that could be avoided, and I hate that.

  I can’t bring myself to hate her for it. She is quickly becoming every thought in my head, which is a dangerous road. I’m veering off even now thinking about her, and I force myself back into the present.

  “It could. We won’t rule that out.”

  “Coast Guard bought in a boat last night, while you were busy at Naomi’s place,” James says, and I’m not a fan of the way he words ‘busy.’ “Abandoned.”

  My heart skips a beat. “Are you kidding? There a reason you didn’t tell me that?”

  “It was early hours of the morning. Look, it’s tethered up at the docks. We’ve got it in evidence. Let’s check it out now.”

  Fuck, it grates on me that he’s made that decision. My desperation to solve this case, to make this town safe again, wins out. “Let’s go,” I say.

  James nods and stands. He slides his arms into a jacket and meets me on the other side of the desk. With my coffee still in hand, I don’t bother settling in. I want answers, and I want them now. Together we load into a cruiser and head down to the docks.

  We grab a pair of gloves each from the box on the dash, snap them on and get out, ready for our task.

  I check to make sure my uncle’s boat is intact as we walk by. A sense of relief washes over—it’s as old and dingy and untouched as ever. It’s one of the few things I have of my uncle, and I want to keep it safe for as long as I can. It may be a crusty old boat, but it’s a family heirloom.

  A few boats down, the white yacht bobs along, tied to the dock with a teal rope. It’s in the space specially reserved for captures, the portion of the dock locked behind a chain link fence. I open up and walk through.

  Finally, we reach the yacht, and I grip the handle of the entrance and jump aboard, followed by James. The deck is made of a fine wood that I smudge with the dirt under my boots.

  I’ll have the boat cleaned later. Right now, what we need is evidence.

  “I’ll do a scan below deck to see if there’s anything down there,” I say.

  James nods and starts lifting cushions and drawers on deck. I walk to the back of the boat where I find a staircase leading down. I take each step with precaution and hold onto the railing until I reach the bottom. A light switch is on the wall to my right, and I flick it upward, illumining the space.

  This is clearly a party boat. The room is deceptively spacious because of the number of mirrors along every wall. Large, plush sofas take up most of the space in the center of the room, and a wet bar holds court toward the back of the space.

  I start my search. I check the floors to see if anything was dropped. I pull off all of the couch cushions, I open every drawer. There has to be something down here that can lead us in a direction—any direction. Until Naomi is ready to talk, and obviously I can’t force the issue, I have to work to find clues on my own.

  When I reach the bar, it’s still fully stocked. What kind of person leaves this much expensive liquor unlocked and unchecked? I get that people think this town is safe, but that’s still no reason to be this careless. I think back to my conversation with the woman whose yacht was stolen—this has got to be hers, and it’ll be a relief to have it returned after we’ve scoured it.

  I have to be the one to reinstate that safety, that trust. It is up to me to figure this out and bring peace back to Stoneport. I cannot fail the people of this town.

  I cannot fail Naomi.

  I glance at the mirrors all around me. Naomi would love this room. We could fuck from every angle, and she could see it all. I love how much she enjoys watching me fuck her. It turns me on to no end when her gaze is fixed on our joined bodies.

  “Ben! You’ll want to see this!”

  James’s voice echoes from the stairwell, and I leave the liquor shelf behind as I stride back toward the staircase. I turn off the light on my way up, this time taking the stairs two at a time in my rush to get back up and see what James has found. He’s not at the top of the stairs, so I walk around the side. When I find him, his back is to me, but he’s clearly looking at something.

  “What is it?” I ask

  I’m not allowed to get excited. I can’t help the tingle in my belly at the thought of a clue, though. Please tell me that it’s something that can guide us in the right direction. James turns and holds out his hands. In them is a long, sharp hunting knife.

  I stare at it.

  “Found this in the captain’s area, tucked beneath the steering wheel,” James says. He holds the knife out to me, and I take it. I turn it around in my hands and survey the weapon, and my mind works furiously.

  I know this. I’ve seen it somewhere before. I wrack my brain for when that was, and a memory surfaces. The first night I went to Naomi’s restaurant, I walked in on Skippy harassing Katie and Naomi. She was about to approach him, but I saw the knife in his belt and knew I had to do something.

  This is that knife.

  Photographic memory coupled with my training—yeah, I recognize it. I’m sure.

  “This is the weapon Skippy had on him that night at Naomi’s when we walked in. Remember?”

  I hand the knife back to James, using a handkerchief so as not to smudge any prints. I’m trying to include him more, make him feel more appreciated and useful. Clearly, I’ve been slacking at that, and I want him to feel like a valued member of the team. He turns it around in his hands much like I did, and his gaze combs over the blade, the hilt.

  Finally, he nods. “I remember it, too. It’s clear now that Skippy wasn’t telling the whole truth. We’ve got him.”

  “Let’s get back to the station and put out an APB on our new suspect.”

  “You got it.”

  We hop off the boat and stride down the dock in unison. I’m glad to have James feel more like a partner than a disgruntled employee. In this moment, I feel better than I’ve felt in a long time at my job. We have a solid lead, evidence, and I have a partner that I can trust to be resourceful by my side.

  “Great find, by the way,” I tell him. Appreciation is never a bad thing.

  He nods as he opens his car door. “Thanks. It was a lucky find. Let’s hope that it will get us the information we need. Skippy knows how to play this game, and he isn’t talking either.”

  The corner of my lip twitches, and I slide into the driver’s seat and turn on the ignition.

  “Oh, he’ll talk. He’s not going to have a choice.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Naomi

  Paul and I are shelling and deveining the shrimp as music plays. Today I’ve opted for something a little more relaxing—light jazz music. I’m still freaked out over the night before. When I woke up this morning, for a small moment I forgot that I’d had my house invaded by a brick. Then I saw my locked bedroom door, and it all came back.

  The least they c
ould have done was leave a note. At least then, I would have some idea what the purpose was behind such an act. Perhaps it was to scare me, to remind me that I’m being watched.

  To remind me that Jordan wants Ben out of my life, and he wants me back in his own sordid, messed-up world.

  I pull the legs from another shrimp and toss them into a bowl as the music plays, and my mind reels. I’m contemplating what message Jordan was trying to send when Paul clears his throat.

  “It’s almost time to open. I’m surprised Katie isn’t here.”

  I frown. Why isn’t Katie here? She always comes early to try the daily specials and prepare the dining room. I wipe my hands on a cloth and step out into the dining room to look out the front windows for her. Come to think of it, I got so distracted by Ben last night and my own general fear that I forgot to check that she got home OK.

  I am officially a terrible friend. My chest fills with worry as I look up and down the street for my friend, my only waitress. We can’t open without her. Beyond that, I need to know that she’s all right.

  I walk back to the kitchen and meet Paul’s curious glance.

  “I’m not sure where she is. I texted but she hasn’t answered.” I bite my lip. “I think I’m going to head down the street to her place and make sure everything is OK. Can you hold down the fort? We can’t open without a server, so we’ll keep things shut down until we both get back.

  Paul nods. “I can make a sign. Just send me a text when you know and I’ll hang it up.”

  Did I mention Paul is the best?

  “Thank you,” I breathe.

  I don’t waste time. I step out without my jacket, and I rub my arms to block out the cold sea breeze as I walk with purpose down the sidewalk. A blast of frigid air blows up my green cotton dress, and I shiver but press on. Katie’s apartment is situated in a quaint waterfront cottage. There are two apartments in the little building, one on the first floor and one on the second, with its own set of stairs. I approach the whitewashed building and hold my breath.

 

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