Hot Cop: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Natasha L. Black

  “Then we’ll find her, too. You know we’re none of us any good if we’re running on fumes. Eat, get some rest, we’ll crack this case wide open. First thing tomorrow.”

  I nodded, “Whatever you say, chief,” I said.

  I finished up some emails and grabbed my stuff. I crashed without even taking a shower. A few hours later, I woke up to a sound. It was something out of the ordinary, not a dog barking or wind in the trees. I sat bolt upright and scanned the dark room. I was alone. I got my gun, put in the clip and stepped into my shoes. I checked out the house, silent and alert. I didn’t want to wake my folks. My mom was asleep in bed and my dad was snoozing with his CPAP mask on in the recliner. I explored the kitchen, the hall, the living room. Nothing seemed amiss, but I knew I’d heard something.

  I slid along the wall, looked closely for any sign of trouble. At last, I turned to go back upstairs. I saw something out the front window. Movement. A light. I peered out the window from beside it so I wouldn’t be visible. My driver’s door was standing open. The light was on in my car. Sons of bitches, coming to my parents’ house and screwing around with my car. I flicked the outside lights on, flooding the driveway with illumination. I flung the door open and stalked outside. There was nobody around, but when I shut my car door, I saw it had words carved into the paint.

  YOU’RE NEXT BITCH

  I’d be lying if I said it didn’t freak me out a little, but mainly I was pissed. How dare they? Come to my home, vandalize a car I was still making payments on, and threaten me. I’d been threatened by better men, I was sure of that. But my knees were shaky, so I dialed my brother.

  “Damon, we’re all okay, but somebody came to the house and vandalized my car. I’m not crazy about Mom and Dad staying here under the circumstances. Can you, I don’t know, come get them?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Let me just get dressed. I’ll be over. Get Dad’s meds together, and the chart, okay?”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  It occurred to me after we hung up that I didn’t tell him to keep it quiet. So, by the time I had gotten my dad’s medications and chart and calendar and my mom’s new book club book into a bag, I saw headlights swing into the driveway. It was not my brother’s little half-ton pickup either. Shit.

  I made it to the door before Brody could bang on it and swung it open.

  “What are you doing here?” I whisper-hissed.

  “Some dickhead keyed ‘you’re next bitch’ on your car and you think I’m not gonna come over? I should have been your first goddamn call Laura. Did you see anybody? Get off a shot at them?”

  “First of all, no I didn’t see the person or people. Secondly, I don’t randomly fire my gun into the front yard. It could have been neighborhood kids—do I wanna blow some ten-year-old’s head off?” I asked hotly.

  “Get inside, you’re not even wearing pants, Jesus Christ,” he said, backing me up into the living room.

  “Sorry if I wasn’t dressed for company at two in the morning,” I shot back. “Damon is on his way to get my parents. I’ve got to go wake them and convince them to leave without scaring the crap out of them. You stay down here and open the door for my snitch of a brother,” I said.

  I went up and roused my mom as gently as I could and told her that Damon was coming to pick them up. She got upset and started rushing around for clothes to pack.

  “Mom, we’re not burning down the house with all your belongings in it. Grab a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. You’re just going to Damon’s. I’ll bring you whatever you need. I’m gonna go grab Dad’s CPAP and mask and the compression socks and stuff, toss it in a duffle bag, okay? You okay here?”

  I hugged her, feeling suddenly teary. Somebody could’ve gotten in here and hurt my parents. She squeezed me back tight—my mom gave the best hugs in the world. It made me feel a little better.

  “You take care, baby. And you might wanna put down the gun before you wake your father.”

  “Oh, sorry,” I said. “I have the safety on, if that helps.” I took the clip out of the gun and set both on the nightstand.

  I got my dad up and to the bathroom before I heard Damon arrive. “Thanks for coming, you fuckin’ tattletale,” I said wryly, hurrying down the steps to hug him. He hugged me and laughed.

  “What? You work for him. It’s evidence in a case.”

  “Go help Dad get dressed. I’m gonna get their breakfast stuff together. I know the king of Pop-Tarts doesn’t have low sodium stuff for Dad to eat.”

  I put some of their meal-plan stuff in a cooler and the fruit for Dad. If he didn’t have the right snacks available, he’d pound a box of crackers in no time. So I made sure his snack stuff was in there and the lotion for his legs and feet. The iPad for him, the noise-canceling headphones for my mom. It gave me something to focus on, making sure they had what they needed. I tossed in a can of emergency Pringles in case my dad drove her nuts.

  By the time Damon had Dad ready to roll, with our dad grumbling all the way about being driven from his own home in the middle of the night, Mom was waiting at the door with her purse and bag. I helped load them up, thanked my brother for the snitch and found myself alone with Brody in my parents’ house. It seemed oddly quiet and shadowy, bigger than it ever had now that they weren’t here. It gave me the shivers because I had a flash of how it would be someday, having to clean out their things with my brother after they were gone. How empty and hollow and sad that would be. I shook myself and turned to Brody.

  “Thanks for coming, but I’m fine here. My folks will be fine at Damon’s for a few days, and I’ll lock up as soon as you leave,” I said with forced brightness.

  “I’m not crazy about you staying here by yourself,” he said.

  “I’m a grown woman and a cop, not some little kid,” I protested.

  18

  Brody

  Some of the other officers showed up, and we had all the lights going. Every house up and down that street had the porch lights on and people coming out to see what was happening. We checked out her door and looked around for evidence. No footprints, tire skid marks, nothing. They didn’t have a security system or cameras because, hell, it was Rockford Falls. It was not the kind of town where shit like this happens. It was a safe, wholesome place to raise a family. No gang activity, no drug trafficking, mostly just shoplifting, domestic disputes and the occasional joyrider who boosts his parents’ car without asking.

  What if she’d been in her car? What if she’d been just coming home when they came out of the shadows at her? I shut my eyes at the thought, of her being dragged away, a hand clamped over her mouth. They’d rape her—wasn’t that what assholes always did to women to shut them up? Maybe beat her up, dump her naked on the side of the road someplace miles from home. Scared and hurt and no way to reach anybody to help her. My chest hurt like I was dying just to think of it. To think of anyone hurting Laura. I couldn’t stand it.

  I was seething inside. How dare this asshole punk threaten her? Go to her parents’ house in the middle of the night and mess up her car and leave a message that she’s next? I’d fucking show them who was next. I’d leave my badge at home and make that motherfucker pay. I left it to Carl to wrap up the investigation of the scene and helped Damon get his folks in his little pickup. It was a tight fit with all their stuff. I followed Laura back in the house.

  She tried to brush me off, tell me she was fine and she’d lock up.

  “I’m not crazy about you being here by yourself,” I said.

  “I’m a grown woman and a cop, not some little kid,” she said, acting tough but with worry in her eyes.

  “Pack your bag.”

  “No way. At the risk of sounding like Dad, I’m not being driven out of my house by this asshole. I can handle this.

  “I don’t care. You can go to your brother’s or you can come to my place. But you’re not staying here.”

  “No,” she said, gearing up to argue with me some more.

  “I’m supposed to be looking out fo
r you, remember,” I said.

  “I don’t need anybody looking out for me,” she shot back, squaring her shoulders for a fight.

  “Maybe I want to look out for you,” I said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m Damon’s baby sister and you need to protect me? Or I’m the new cop you don’t trust? Either way, I won’t like the answer, so just go on. Go home and get some sleep. I’m fine here on my own.”

  I couldn’t come up with a decent response. Nothing made sense. Nothing but the ache in my body, the need to touch her, make sure she was whole and alive and okay. That they hadn’t gotten to her. That it was a warning. And we could find them and stop them before they could do anything worse. I was trying to reassure myself and try not to think about the sick horror that had ripped through my body the second Damon had called to tell me what was going on. Nothing could happen to her. It damn near brought me to my knees.

  So how could I answer her? I couldn’t tell her what I meant about looking out for her because there was a lot to unpack there, nothing I could name, nothing I even had words for. My whole body was shaking like a rattlesnake got loose in my ribcage. So, I did the only thing I could do. I reached for her.

  19

  Laura

  He kissed me. There was no beginning to it, no warning. I was all of a sudden in the middle of it, his lips hot and soft on mine, catching my lips between his, tugging them, tasting and licking until he was rubbing the back of my jaw near my ear and my mouth just dropped open for him. I sucked his tongue, all of a sudden on fire and unable to get enough.

  The icy fear that had gripped me burned away. My whole body was alight. His arm was an iron band around my waist, anchoring me to him. His mouth slanted over mine, dipping his tongue in, claiming me. I moaned. It was embarrassing, but it was the truth. His tongue stroking in my mouth felt so damn good that I moaned louder than I ever had for any man. My heart hammered, everything behind my eyes was flaming red. My breasts were heavy and aching for his touch. He pulled me back toward the door, locked it and then moved me the other way, toward the stairs. I tried to break the kiss and turn around, scramble up the stairs ahead of him. He was having none of it. Once I was in his grasp, apparently there was no escape. He just grabbed me under my ass and slid me up his body, my legs going around his hips and holding on hard. I held him around his neck, his mouth going to my jaw and throat. He stopped halfway up the stairs and backed me into the wall and kissed me deep and slow, like he couldn’t take another second of sloppy half-kisses and he had to plunder my mouth. I took his tongue, stroked it with mine, my hands in his hair. Every part of me strained for him, urgent, wanting him closer. Wanting all of him.

  His hand slammed into the wall, and he groaned in frustration. “Hold on,” he muttered. “Or I’m gonna take you right here.”

  I held on tight and he kicked open the door to my room. There he was, in the room where I’d grown up. My Twilight Eclipse poster and my Nick Jonas poster both still up on the wall. It was surreal, having Brody Peters groping me in my childhood room—surreal and fabulous.

  He had me up against a wall, his hand on my breast, fondling, pinching the nipple into a stiff peak. His other hand ran up my bare thigh. I remembered then that I was wearing a big t-shirt and panties, that I had rolled out of bed with my gun about an hour ago. There was not much between us, just the thin white fabric separating his hot hand from my needy flesh. I was moaning stupid stuff like, oh yeah just like that and oh God, Brody, yes. He jerked the V-neck off my shoulder and covered my bare flesh with his mouth, hot and wet, sucking hard on my neck and making me buck against the hand he fondled my breast with. Then the hand on my breast moved down, slid under the hem of my shirt and his fingers pushed right down the front of my panties.

  “Oh God!” I squealed. His thick, work-roughened fingers worked through my soft, slippery folds. I was so wet for him that he stroked me easily.

  “You do that to me,” I managed to gasp, “that’s why I’m so wet. I’m never this wet,” I babbled.

  “Baby, don’t tell me that. I gotta make this good for you, gotta make it last. You’ll make me go off if you keep talking that way,” he said, his voice rough. It made me feel so good that he was worked up, too.

  I gripped his shoulder, canted my hips into his probing hand. He petted me, stroked my pussy with his fingers, parting my folds and making me whimper. He leaned his forehead against mine.

  “I’m gonna make you feel better than anyone ever has.”

  “Yes,” I said simply, bumping my lips against his, getting a kiss in return.

  Then he unfurled his fingers, tucked one and then two inside me as I gasped and bore down against him. He worked them in and out and rubbed my clit with his thumb, relentlessly pressing and circling until I came so hard, screaming, biting his bottom lip as I tensed and pulsed around his thick fingers. I shuddered, so sensitive and shaken by the sudden climax.

  He lowered me to my feet and pulled me toward the bed. The twin bed where I’d slept all my life, with its yellow and white daisy comforter thrown back from where I leapt out of bed earlier. I sat beside him on the edge of the bed. He took my hand in his and laced our fingers together.

  “You’re not obligated—” he began.

  “Brody. Don’t be crazy. I’ve wanted you since I was sixteen years old, okay? Let’s just lay it all out there. Don’t act like we’re just coworkers. Do you want me to beg? Okay, fine. I want you, Brody. I want you tonight, please. Please stay with me, and I don’t mean just for safety.”

  “So what exactly do you mean?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at me, teasing shamelessly.

  “I want you to fuck me. Right here on this bed, or the floor, or against the wall, or on the dresser. Whatever your terms are—if you never want us to talk about it again, if it’s just one night. If we’re friends with benefits who do this again and again. If we’re more than that. I’ll say yes, Brody,” I told him. “So, are we clear?”

  He rewarded me with a kiss, with his mouth on mine, lush and sexy.

  “Crystal. I would’ve had you in the back of the squad car on your first day. You were so clever and sexy and gorgeous, with that smart mouth. I wanted to take your breath away, leave you speechless.”

  With one hand, he pushed me back on the bed. He reached for my panties and trailed them down my legs. He kissed the inside of my thigh. His touch was as gentle and caressing as it had been frantic before. I shivered at even the softest brush of his finger on the inside of my thigh. He coerced me toward him, until I was stretched out full length on the mattress. He took one of my legs and draped it over his shoulder almost luxuriantly. Brody massaged my thigh and calf, and I savored his touch. He grinned up at me as though he enjoyed it, as though he wanted to do this very much.

  The rasp of his stubble stung the inside of my thighs and his lips worked softly, kissing my folds, tracing the outline of my clit with the tip of his flexible tongue, so light and infuriating and delectable all at once. I moaned when he sucked just right, just how I wanted it, and then I laughed when he teased me, driving me crazy enough that I tossed my head back and forth on the pillow and bit my lip.

  “You wanna say something? You wanna tell me to speed up? Talk to me. As dirty as you want. All I’ll ever do is give you what you want,” he said. My eyes stung. I was mad at myself for the burn of tears in my eyes, for the way it hit me in the heart for this strong, noble, incredible man to accept me the way I was and to tell me at such an intimate moment that he would never reject me for what I said or the ways I was never going to be a proper small-town girl. I sniffed once, tried to pretend I wasn’t a little weepy over it. But something emotional was stirring in my chest and my throat tightened.

  “Tell me anything you want, darlin’,” he said, his voice so true, so deep and gorgeous.

  “I love you,” I blurted out, then froze. “Oh God, I didn’t say that. I didn’t say it,” I covered my face with my hands, embarrassed.

  Brody slid my legs off hi
s shoulders and stood up, “Yeah, you said it. Right out loud.”

  I peered at him from between my fingers, so, so embarrassed that my heart was pounding. He had a big, stupid grin on his face.

  “Are you smiling?” I demanded, dropping my hands. My face was still hot from blushing, from knowing what I said.

  “Did you think I’d run for the hills?”

  “I didn’t think at all. It just came out.”

  “So you didn’t mean it,” he asked, eyebrows drawn together, his eyes so damn mischievous as he looked down at me.

  “No. Of course not. What kind of an idiot says that when her boss is going down on her?”

  “It’s okay if you love me,” he said, his mouth covering mine. “You know you’re not a one-night stand for me. Even if we have to keep it secret, you know there’s more to this than just scratching an itch. You know once I’ve had you, I’m not letting you go. And I mean to have you right now.”

  A moan escaped my lips as he closed his mouth over mine. I strained against his hands as he stroked his thumb under the curve of my breast, his hands sliding to my hips. I reached for him, fumbled with his worn Levis and unfastened them, tried to push them down. There it was. The biggest, thickest cock I’d ever laid eyes on. I felt my eyes glaze over. I wanted to beg him to put it in me. Even as he was taking his jeans off, stripping off his shirt to leave me ogling the muscles on him. He was a work of art, and I wanted to run my hands all over him and savor every sweet, hard inch of his cock. But I was shaking by now, wanting him so bad that my teeth nearly chattered. I came up on my knees without thinking. He caught me by the waist, kissed my lips, a slow, filthy slide of his tongue along mine that left me quivering in his hands.

  “I wasn’t finished with you,” he said, his big hand trailing down my stomach. Shivers ran through me, goosebumps breaking all over my skin. I could smell his sweat and his arousal, the musky salt scent driving me wild, like that exact smell was made to make me come all by itself. His fingers stole between my legs and he petted me. There was no other word for it. He started petting me tenderly, his fingers slick from my wetness and sliding through my sensitive folds. I was wriggling and whimpering, trying to get away from his hand because it was too intense. I couldn’t stand it. I had to escape and crawl away. But I was kneeling on my twin bed, his hand anchoring me in place even as my moans turned to a helpless whimper, broken and pleading.