Hot Cop: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Natasha L. Black

  “Why would anyone freak out? That has to be the main thing that’s happened in your life to shape who you are. First your dad, then your wife.”

  “It is. And you see that and you act like it’s obvious and it’s okay to mention it. You have no idea—that’s like oxygen. To someone with a loss, knowing you won’t get all weepy and say ‘oh I can’t imagine’ or ‘things happen for a reason.’” He said, “So don’t ever apologize for who you are. I can handle some raunchy jokes from time to time if it means being with you.”

  I gaped at him.

  “Not being with you like that,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face “Jesus, why can’t I think straight around you?”

  “We’re both tired. It’s fine. Let’s just talk about something else. Besides dead relatives, terminal illnesses—"

  “Well, if we’re not talking about those things, then what topics are left for conversation?”

  “The frozen food section at the new dollar store, of course,” I said. “What’s good?”

  “Not the fish,” he said.

  “Okay, there’s gotta be a story there.”

  “Just take my word for it. Not the fish. They have good store brand iced coffee, if you’re, you know, a basic bitch who likes that kind of thing.”

  I rolled my eyes at his pointed comment, “What else?”

  “Good deals on frozen chicken breasts and vegetables.”

  “Okay. That’s exciting. Mrs. Rook was telling me about the wonders of her slow cooker. We should all get together and trade recipes.”

  “What’s your specialty?”

  “Scrambled eggs,” I said. “A little dill, some sour cream and it’s like the fanciest breakfast in the world.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “What do you eat for breakfast? Wheaties?”

  “Green smoothie with flaxseed. It’s healthy and good for muscle recovery. I usually go to the gym before work.”

  “I never joined a gym. I work out at home. All I need are resistance bands and some hand weights.”

  “You should come to the gym sometime. It’ll change how you train. There’s a lot of specialized equipment to isolate muscle groups.”

  “Dude, I know what a gym is. I just haven’t joined one.”

  “I was just offering to show you the ropes.”

  “I don’t pretend I don’t know how to use a pool cue or a baseball bat to let a man teach me, remember?”

  “So you’re saying you know all about how to use all the equipment in the place?”

  “Probably.”

  “Ten bucks says I can teach you something you didn’t know,” he said.

  “What, now?”

  “Yes, now.”

  “We just ate. You’re supposed to wait an hour.”

  “That’s if you go swimming. And it’s total bullshit,” he said. “Are you afraid you don’t know it all?”

  “No. I know that I know it all.”

  “You got workout stuff in your locker?”

  “In my car,” I said.

  “Meet me out front in ten minutes, Vance. I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

  I threw out my trash and went to get my workout clothes. I was trembling, shaking with anticipation. I kept getting flashes of him sweaty, shirtless, demonstrating how to use a weight machine while I tried desperately not to straddle him and ride him right there. This was a shitty idea. We were both competitive. This would lead to—fireworks. I knew better. I had to back out of it. Even if it meant looking like a chicken shit. I turned around and went back in the station and walked into his office.

  “Listen, chief, I was thinking and I—”

  I stopped talking.

  I might never talk again. Until I went to confession. And I wasn’t not even Catholic. But I definitely needed to go to confession for my impure thoughts.

  Because Brody Peters was standing beside his desk, naked to the waist and packing a hard-on as long as my forearm in his black boxer briefs. He finished turning a tee right side out and pulled it over his head, covering up the stacks of muscles cut into his torso by hours and hours of workouts. He was strong and cut but not in the beefy idiot way that guys were who had thick necks and no brain. He looked like he’d honed his body into a weapon, like he ate clean and exercised until he was in peak physical condition. Just as a law enforcement officer should. And the fact that I had the sudden, mouth-watering urge to sink my teeth into his big bicep had nothing to do with anything. It was a stupid fleeting thought, much like the fleeting thought that I’d seen the outline of what he was packing and it made me want to faint. I needed to lie down. Except I couldn’t stay there for another minute. My integrity depended on it.

  “Sorry I barged in like that,” I said faintly. “Here.” I held out ten dollars, “I need to get home and check on my dad. Thanks for dinner. You win the bet by default.”

  “No. I’ll take a rain check,” he said. “I won’t even give you hell about being too chicken to face off in the gym.”

  “I appreciate that. Even if it’s totally insincere,” I said. My heart pounded. My pulse seemed to shoot through me, making my whole body shake. “Thanks for dinner,” I said.

  “Not a problem. See you tomorrow.”

  I could not stop my eyes from flicking down to his hard-on again. I did an awkward wave and left.

  12

  Brody

  I flipped my pillow and punched it, trying to get comfortable. I had the air conditioning cranked up so high the window unit rattled with the force of the fan. But even that annoying sound didn’t distract me. I couldn’t sleep. Not because it was hot even at night, which it was. Not because I was obsessing about the missing persons case, which I was. Because of Laura.

  I couldn’t sleep because of her.

  She’d been an asset to the department so far. All indications pointed to her being a good hire here for the long haul. She was nice to Mrs. Rook, and she joked around with the other cops. In fact, she fit right in like she’d always been there. Like she was where she belonged. It felt that way, which was part of the problem.

  Because when I looked at her, when I made her laugh, all I thought was Where have you been? I’d been looking for her in a thousand different faces for years, it felt like. She’d finally arrived. She had come back home where she belonged, and instantly, I had felt that click of recognition, of something sliding into place so that all the pieces fit.

  It was madness. I’d been watching too much TV or something. There was no such thing as my missing puzzle piece or a soul mate or any of that crap that companies used to sell flowers and diamonds and greeting cards. It was nonsense, all of it. So I had to quit letting my thoughts go in that direction.

  I’d known her a long time, or not really known her well, but I’d been around her when she was growing up. She was so much younger that I hadn’t had that much to do with her. She was Damon’s baby sister, so of course I teased her and gave her crap the same way I did with him. Except I wouldn’t call it the same at all. Not when I was torturing myself over her body and her laugh and her eyes.

  She’d gotten quick results on the cell phone using her network of contacts from Charleston. Usually if I needed tech analyzed, I had to wait around till the state police got their thumbs out of their ass and decided to check it out. Small town precincts were low on the list, so it could be weeks. But Laura had managed to pull it off in mere days. She was so smart and resourceful and hilarious. Her irreverence made the job easier to take. Just being around her made everything feel easier. Talking to her was natural, and the banter, the kidding around made me feel energized, excited to see her again, hear what she had to say. She was always surprising me, and it made me want to get up in the morning. I never knew what was gonna come out of her mouth—it could be brilliant or disgusting or incredibly compassionate. No matter what it was, I couldn’t wait.

  When she’d said sometimes the anticipation was the best part, that went straight to my cock. I wasn’t proud of i
t, or of the fact that I was half hard the whole time we were eating and talking. But my body that had been going through the motions, dormant for ages, was flaring to life thanks to her. She was so damn beautiful, and that was just the beginning. She was fiery and outspoken and brave. There was nothing about her that didn’t turn me on.

  I tried to calm down my brain and my body. I even tried to remember and recite the names of the cast of the Golden Girls to get my mind off of her. I got stuck after Bea Arthur and Betty White and gave up. It was like every cell in my body was focused on Laura, on how much I wanted her. No matter how much I knew it was wrong, my body betrayed me.

  Giving in, just this once, I wrapped my hand around my still-hard cock and surrendered.

  Laura comes into my office without knocking. I’m changing to go to the gym, just like earlier, only instead of saying she has to leave, she takes down her hair and says, “Why don’t we just work out right here? We’ve got everything we need.” I see all that auburn hair spilling over her shoulders and can’t resist. I go around the desk to her and start sifting my fingers through her silky, loose strands.

  “Mmm,” she says, “that feels good.”

  I take the hint and my hands move higher, to the roots of her hair, and I rub her scalp, massaging her sensuously until she’s moaning. I see her breath coming fast with the way her breasts are straining against her blue uniform button-down. With two fingers, I reach down and flick that button open, the one that was pushed beyond its limits by the heaving of her chest. She gasps, her eyes flipping open to meet mine in astonishment. I waste no time working the other buttons until her shirt hangs open, revealing a black lacy bra that makes my jeans feel too tight all at once. I shut my eyes to get a breath, but that image is burned on my eyelids of Laura gasping because my fingers grazed her chest. I reach in the unbuttoned shirt and find her nipple, fingering it through the scratchy lace. I watch her white teeth dig into the fleshy lower lip and I groan at the sight of it. I pinch her nipple, bead hard and turned on, and lean down. I capture her bottom lip between my own and suck on it. Her arms wind around me, and she opens her mouth to suck my tongue. I’m groaning out loud just from making out with her. I’m only to second base—barely—and I could go off any second.

  “Please,” I say, though I’ve never begged for something from a woman before, she was definitely introducing me to many firsts in my life, “I need you, Laura.”

  “Yes,” she says at once, her hands trailing down my chest to the button of my jeans. I hiss as she unfastens them, freeing the big erection that was straining, strangled inside of my pants. She takes it in her hand, heavy and long, and she grins like I’m about to give her a Christmas present. “Yes,” she says again.

  With that, I cover her mouth with mine again, licking and sucking, fondling her breast through the bra again and hauling her tight in my arms. I crush her to my chest, angry with the laws of nature that keep me from pulling her into my body completely. She meets my kiss with equal passion, her fingers in my hair. I curse the fact that I have no couch in my tiny office, not even an armchair. It would have to be the desk. I reach for her belt and unfasten it, unzip her pants and let them fall.

  Then I turn her around to face the desk, and she plants her hands on it. I kiss the back of her neck as I stroke down her spine to the curve of her ass. “Open your legs for me, baby,” I say roughly, as I strip off her lace panties. She’s panting. I can hear her, can smell her arousal in the air, and the heat and sweat between us. I palm her between her legs, feel how soaking wet she is for me. I make a sound of approval, of desperation. Then I step between her legs and let the head of my cock bob against her slit. I’m coated with her juices instantly, and it feels insanely good. I rock forward, give her a slow, deep thrust to see if she can take it. She pushes back against me, taking me in, but her knees buckle, and I catch her around the waist.

  “I’ve got you, baby,” I purr in her ear, kissing her neck. Then I start to buck, to really thrust into her. She pumps her hips back against me hard and steady, wanting to take all of me. I can’t hold back, can’t be as gentle as I want to be. I pound into her, those soft, sweet lips tight around me as I plunge my big, heavy cock between her folds, tunneling my way in and making her mine. I even say it, reaching around her and pulling her upright. I still spear her with my cock, still buck into her, but I wrap my arms around her, let her twist her head around to kiss my mouth, ragged and sloppy because of the way I’m pounding her.

  “You’re all mine,” I say, palming her breast, pulling her down by one hip to pump on my cock. I’m practically going blind from how good it feels. I’m hot and dizzy from the exertion, the heat and passion between us.

  “Your chair,” she gasps “Please.”

  I know she’s right. I have to withdraw from her for an instant. She cries out when I leave her body, and she comes after me as I sit down in my office chair. She straddles my lap, facing away from me still, and I feed my long cock back into her tight, hot pussy. God, it feels even better that way. She sits on me, rides me while I hold her hips, nip at her shoulders and back where I’d pulled her shirt away. She’s bouncing on my cock, moaning, and I reach around. I finger her clit, rub the outer lips where we’re joined, so sensitive, so tender until she’s screaming and coming so hard that I think she’ll strangle my cock inside her. She milks it out of me with her tight little core until I come like crazy, roaring, shooting my load deep inside her, biting her neck, rubbing her clit until I make her come all over again, soaking 9ous both.

  She lay back against me, my fingers fondling her nipples as she rests on my chest. Her arm reaches back around my neck, playing at my hairline and keeping me on edge. I’m going to have to pull out of her eventually but we both want to stay joined as long as possible. It’s been so wild, so delicious, and so much more than just fucking. I’ve made her mine body and soul.

  I came so hard in my hand that I thought I’d blackout. Just the idea of taking her from behind on my desk, pulling her down in my lap on my office chair, had made pure lightning seize my body, all filthy, unutterable pleasure. I cleaned myself up fell asleep almost immediately. When I woke to my alarm, I was energized but felt guilty. I worked out at the gym and made my way to the police station. When Laura came in, I could barely look at her.

  I busied myself combing through the statements from Becky’s parents and her friend she’d been studying with. There had to be some detail I was missing, I thought, there had to be something I could use to solve this case and save this kid. I paused to text Damon back about rescheduling practice because the forecast called for a ninety percent chance of rain that afternoon. Then my mind swung back immediately to the problem of Becky Simms, and the problem of rain driving people indoors. If she were still alive, eyewitnesses were crucial to the tip line we were hoping would pan out with a lead.

  Laura had been sharing photos of Becky Simms on social media, and Clint had posted printouts of her picture all over Rockford Falls. People knew what she looked like, what she was wearing, and they could spot her. But wet weather could keep a southerner indoors when scorching heat never did. Fewer people out and about meant fewer possible sightings of the missing girl.

  I rubbed my forehead and decided we should put up posters in the neighboring towns as well to cast a wider net. I started a list of places they should go up—the high schools, the fast-food places, the convenience stores—when I heard a knock. I knew it was Laura because I already knew the sound of her step and the difference of her knock from everyone else’s. My ears alert for her voice, her movements. I looked up as she entered.

  “Max called me,” she said.

  “Tech boy from Charleston?” I asked.

  “Yeah. He traced the burner phone. Which is damn near impossible from what he tells me. It was sold at the gas station on the west side of Overton at 2:28 pm last Tuesday.”

  “Let’s go,” I said, grabbing my keys.

  Laura shared the contact info with me, and I dialed up the store
and asked for a manager. “Pull the video footage from last Tuesday afternoon. The department needs it and I’ll bring a warrant.”

  I hung up.

  “Who’s gonna swear out a search warrant on such short notice?” she asked. I shook my head.

  “The store has nothing to hide. It was a perfectly legal transaction. I offered to get a warrant, and the manager said it wouldn’t be a problem. Local businesses like to cooperate with law enforcement.”

  “So you were bluffing?”

  “I could get one. It’d take about three hours if I was lucky though.”

  “All right. You’re the chief. I’ll take your word for it,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here and work on getting her picture out? One of the other guys could—”

  “You ride with me,” I said. ”We started working this case together and we’ll finish it that way.”

  “Thanks, chief,” she said.

  “You’re welcome, Vance,” I said, holding the door for her.

  13

  Laura

  Brody’s office had seemed small until I saw what passed for the manager’s office at a convenience store. It was roughly the size of the fried chicken display and it smelled just as greasy. We were wedged behind what had to be a junior high-sized desk staring at a desktop computer monitor as the manager ran store surveillance video footage for us. It was tedious. Since we weren’t looking for anything dramatic—not a robbery or a hostage grab or even shoplifting-we didn’t have a visual on a suspect unless it was her ex-boyfriend. We just watched a lot of really dull video of people staring at the soda and chips and beer, sidling over to the counter and choosing scratch-off lottery tickets and vape refills. My head started to throb with the beginning of a low-level headache.