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Men of S.W.A.T.: Tactical Pleasure

Page 3

by J. C. Wilder


  Damn, what was wrong with him? He wasn’t a man prone to going crazy with lust. And he certainly wasn’t foolish enough to make love outside, in broad daylight, in uniform, in the middle of a shift on his lunch hour.

  He walked into her front yard to find two cruisers parked about twenty yards from his. Jaybird and Picasso were approaching Randa’s house, each with their guns drawn and held alongside their thigh. When they saw him, they looked at each other and grinned.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jay asked. “Your emergency banner went off and no one could raise you on the radio.”

  “I had a little accident.” John stomped past, making sure to fling water on him as he did so.

  Picasso stood on the curb, his face impassive though John thought he could see amusement lurking in the depths of his dark eyes. He cast a speculative glance at Randa’s house then back to John.

  “Don’t even think of asking.” John stalked past his friend and headed for his house across the street. He needed a quick, cold shower, change of uniform and a good explanation for his sergeant as to how his radio and pager had been ruined.

  Chapter Three

  With every minute that passed, the sweatier her palms became.

  Randa glanced at the clock for what had to be the tenth time in five minutes. Eleven-fifteen. Forcing her gaze back the book in her lap, she reread the same line she’d been stumbling over for the past hour. Muttering under her breath, she slammed the book shut and tossed it on the coffee table.

  She wasn’t going to accomplish any reading tonight because Johnny was due to arrive at any minute.

  Her stomach twisted and she forced herself off the couch. She had to do something. She had to move. She snatched the water glass off the table and stalked into the kitchen.

  “What’s the big deal, Randa?” she muttered. “He kissed you. People get kissed all the time.”

  You’ve never been kissed like that.

  While it was true she wouldn’t consider herself ”experienced” when it came to the opposite sex, she wasn’t completely inexperienced either. During her dating years, she’d had two serious boyfriends and, while she’d enjoyed sex with both of them, she’d also often wondered if there was something missing in those relationships.

  She’d heard her girlfriends discuss their sexual affairs and she’d never experienced any of the things they’d talked about. The perfect example was how she’d failed to have an orgasm while in bed with a man, though she’d mastered them on her own.

  She’d learned through experience that liberated women had to take responsibility for their own orgasms. Still, she longed to feel something during sex other than the mild satisfaction of being physically close to another human being. Johnny was the only man who’d turned her on with one kiss. A single touch and she’d felt ready to burst into flames. What would happen if he put his hands on her breasts?

  She shivered at the thought.

  But was she crazy to entertain the idea of going out with him? He was a known womanizer who’d left a string of broken hearts behind him. The guys on the Tri-County Tactical Unit called him ”Shark” for his ruthless sniper ability and his way with women. Behind his back, Jay called John the “panty-charmer” for his knack of charming women out of their panties in record time.

  Randa groaned. Even knowing this, she still wanted him.

  When he looked at her with those dark blue eyes of his, she felt hot and cold at the same time. Just once she wanted to experience uncontrolled sexuality, to become wild with passion from the moment a man put his hands on her body. Johnny was the only man to bring out those feelings in her and to make her think he could fulfill those fantasies.

  The doorbell sounded and her heart leapt into her throat. Randa set the glass on the counter and ran a shaky hand through her hair. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was afraid he’d be able to hear it.

  She walked to the front door and peered through the screen into the darkness. The porch light was out and she silently cursed. It had burned out last week and she’d never found time to replace it.

  At the top of the step on the edge of the porch was a dark shadow in the shape of a man. Even with the screen door separating them, she knew who it was and opened the door. “Hi, Johnny.”

  He stood there for a second, his dark gaze focused on her. “You should turn on your light before you open the door.” His tone was gruff.

  “It’s burned out.” She shrugged. “Besides, I knew it was you.”

  “And you should keep your door locked.”

  Randa’s shoulders stiffened. Less than four hours ago, he’d been kissing her silly, now he was lecturing her on home safety?

  “You don’t keep your doors locked.”

  He made a noncommittal sound and continued to stare at her, his gaze moving over her from head to toe. Her nails dug into her palm and she fought the urge to fidget under his intense scrutiny. Was there something wrong with her dress? Did she have a smudge on her nose? She was pretty sure her face was clean as she’d checked at least five times in the past hour.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  “Oh, okay.” That wasn’t quite what she’d thought he would say. “We can go to the diner and get something if you like. Or I can make you a sandwich here.” She gave him a self-conscious grin and waved toward the kitchen. “I don’t keep much because I usually eat at work.”

  “I’ve got it covered.” His skin was warm as he took her hand and she shivered when his thumb moved across her knuckles.

  “I don’t have my shoes on.” She protested as he led her down the step to the front walk.

  He looked down at her bare feet and Randa was secretly glad she’d bothered to give herself a pedicure. While he probably couldn’t see the pale rose polish, it helped her feel more feminine, pretty. It was hard to feel attractive when clad in shiny polyester and sturdy shoes most of the day.

  He released her hand and went back to shut the front door.

  “I still need my shoes—”

  He walked toward her. “You won’t need shoes where we’re going.”

  Randa gave a startled squeal as John swept her into his arms. She clutched at his shoulders and her nails dug as he carried her to his truck. Had any man ever picked her up and carried her like this? Her grip tightened. Judging from his fresh, masculine scent, he’d showered before leaving the station.

  “You’re going to hurt yourself.” Her voice was faint.

  He snorted. “Hardly.”

  He hoisted her higher to open the driver’s side door before he sat her on the edge of the seat. His gaze impaled hers as he moved his hands down her thighs, positioning her to ensure she didn’t slide out. Her breath caught as his hands reached her knees and his thumb slid under the edge of her dress to caress the inside of her thigh.

  Her cheeks warmed and she felt as if each nerve was being licked by fire. His cop’s mask was in place, cool and detached, yet in the dark depth of his eyes she caught a glimpse of heat, desire. She swallowed hard then scooted across the bench seat toward the passenger side, her heart lodged in her throat.

  She averted her gaze and smoothed her skirt over her thighs. She’d lost count of the times she’d been in his truck but she’d never been as aware of him before. The once-spacious cab felt tiny when he climbed in beside her. Her nerves sang and her breasts felt heavy, achy. She crossed her arms over her chest when he started the engine.

  “Where are we going?” She stuck her feet out. “I can’t go into the restaurant without shoes.”

  “Someplace quiet where we can talk.” He backed out of her drive and headed away from the cul-de-sac.

  The traffic was light when he turned onto Main Street and headed south. With her stomach tied in knots, Randa knew she wouldn’t be able to eat no matter where they went. The silence in the cab was stifling and she knew she had to break the ice. “So how’s the family?”

  “Okay.”

  She wanted to grind her teeth in
frustration. What happened to the easy camaraderie they’d shared? Had she made a colossal mistake and lost her friend over one measly kiss?

  There was nothing measly about that kiss.

  She twisted in the seat, lifting her knee as she braced her ankle under her other knee so she could face him. As they drove, the light from the overhead lampposts cast intermittent pools of brightness into the cab of the truck.

  Johnny drove with a careless grace that proclaimed many hours behind the wheel. He’d changed into jeans and a plain white T-shirt and his ever-present fanny pack was strapped to his slim waist. She’d never seen him look better, or bigger. She knew he and some of the guys had started a new fitness routine in the spring and he’d added at least an inch to an already impressive chest. Her gaze moved over his broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms.

  His gaze never wavered from the road until he negotiated a turn onto Route 3 and she caught him sneaking a glance at her legs.

  So he was interested in her legs, was he?

  Randa faked a yawn and lifted them onto the seat to stretch out. The soles of her feet came to rest against his thigh and his muscles clenched when she touched him.

  “So how was work?” She poked him with her big toe.

  “Fine.” His tone was clipped and the muscles in his thigh bunched again, then relaxed.

  She rubbed her toe along the seam of his jeans. “Nothing exciting happened?”

  “Not a thing.”

  A muscle in his jaw clenched and he turned the truck onto a bumpy dirt road just beyond the city limits. Randa had to put her hand on the dash to keep from being bounced off the seat as the truck moved up a low hill.

  The darkness was thick and the trees crouched close to the trail, which made for an eerie ride. She winced when she heard the sound of branches scraping the roof.

  The trees parted and they pulled into a broad grassy meadow and on the right was a small pond. Bright with moonlight, the water was as still as a dark mirror in the windless night. He pulled near the edge of the meadow and her breath caught at the town spread below them. Streetlights twinkled in the darkness, making it look like the perfect all-American town.

  “It’s beautiful,” she admitted.

  “The kids come up here to park from time to time.” He turned the truck so that the bed faced the scene below before putting it in park. The only light in the cab was tinted green from the console lights.

  “I never knew this was here,” she said.

  “You never went parking as a kid?”

  “No, I never had time. I had to take care of Ro when Mom got sick. Then she died and we moved in with Fitzy and the rest is history.” She prodded him with her foot. “What about you? How many girls lost their panties to you while you were parking?”

  He laughed and shook his head before he turned off the lights. “Not that many. We didn’t move here until I was a senior in high school. I played football and basketball and that didn’t leave much time for backseat gymnastics.”

  His fingers curled around her foot and she jumped as his thumb caressed the ball of her foot. She muffled a groan as he began kneading, starting with her sensitive instep.

  “So you’re making up for lost time?” Her voice sounded faint even to her own ears.

  “I don’t know, am I?”

  She averted her gaze, then groaned as his thumb hit a particularly sensitive spot. “That feels really good.”

  “Babe, you have no idea how good I can make you feel.” He lifted her foot and leaned over to bite her instep. Her breath left her in a rush when he raised his head and his heated gaze moved down the length of exposed leg.

  “Let’s get out here and we can…” His gaze drifted over her breasts and Randa was painfully aware of her erect nipples pressing against the bodice of her dress. “Talk.”

  He released her and turned off the engine. When he opened his door, she scrambled into action. Swinging her legs off the seat, she opened her door and slid out onto the thick, damp grass. She slammed her door, then walked around to the bed of the truck.

  “We can sit here.” Johnny lowered the gate and retrieved a blanket from the locked box behind the cab. After arranging it in the truck bed, he pulled out a plastic grocery sack.

  “What did you bring?” Randa climbed onto the tailgate and reached for the bag.

  “Nothing special, just sandwiches. For some reason, I missed lunch.” He gave her a pointed look as he removed his fanny pack.

  “Yeah, well, whose fault was that?” Her cheeks warmed as she pulled out two foil-wrapped lumps.

  “Yours.” He stowed the pack behind the seat in the cab of the truck before climbing onto the gate next to her. He plucked the larger sandwich from her hand. “Those bikini bottoms should be outlawed.”

  Randa snickered. “Hardly. There are many women in this town that can fill out a bikini far better than I can.” She unwrapped her sandwich, pleased to see he’d stopped at the diner. He’d picked her favorite, a turkey club.

  “Why do women always doubt they’re beautiful?”

  She shrugged. “I guess because we’re inundated with mixed messages from the media. One minute we’re supposed to look like anorexic sticks and the next we’re told to put on ten pounds.”

  “Men receive the same messages.”

  She shook her head. “Not nearly as much as women do. When was the last time you saw a large-sized woman as the romantic lead in a movie? Or in an ad for something other than diet pills?”

  “You have a point.” He reached into the bag and pulled out two bottled sodas, offering her one. “What about that Greek movie? The woman in that wasn’t a stick.”

  “No, she was normal and the reviews referred to her as a larger-sized actress.” Randa snorted. “What’s that about? If the average American woman is a size sixteen, how was this woman large-sized?”

  “Okay, so the media is filled with fools who stuff women’s heads with nonsense about their bodies.” He balled the foil from his sandwich and she wondered how he’d managed to wolf it down that quickly. “Surely you know you’re beautiful.”

  She bit back her usual response of “I’m too fat”, stuffed a large bite of her sandwich into her mouth to avoid answering and opted to shake her head instead.

  “Randa—”

  The lump turned to lead when he put his hand on her knee. Praying she didn’t choke, she swallowed.

  “I think we need to lay some ground rules.” She rewrapped the rest of her sandwich and dropped it into the bag.

  “Such as?” His hand slid up her thigh.

  “The reason I never agreed to go out with you,” she put her hand over his to halt his progress, “was because I didn’t want to become another one of your conquests. I also consider you a friend and I don’t want to lose that.”

  He shook his head. “Won’t happen. I won’t let it. We’re friends and I don’t want to lose that either.” Their gazes met and she saw he was dead serious. “Tell me, what do you want to come of this, Randa? It’s obvious we have strong feelings for each other and we’re both in agreement that we don’t want to destroy our friendship.”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “This is all too new, too sudden to put any restrictions on it. The only thing I do know is that if we decide to explore our obvious attraction to each other, I don’t want the guys talking about me like I’m one of your ‘women’.” She shuddered. “I have to face them every day at work and it might make things…difficult.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “You mean like how the women talk about me?”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I wasn’t the one doing the talking but the gossips do have a field day with you.”

  “They need to get a life. We’re grown-ups and we don’t have to tell anyone anything until we agree to do so. How about that?”

  She nodded slowly. “I’m okay with that.”

  “I also promise you that if I hear any of the guys say anything about you other than discussing your fabulous,”
his gaze strayed to her breasts, “strawberry tarts, I’ll punch them.”

  Randa couldn’t help but laugh. “That might be a bit extreme.”

  He cocked his head and his eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’ll defend your honor. Isn’t that what a knight in shining armor does?”

  She snickered. “If you’re my knight, then you’re supposed to ride a white steed.”

  “Well, that isn’t going to happen.” Johnny moved backward and stretched out in the truck bed, propping his hands behind his head. “I’m allergic to horses.”

  This time she did laugh as she climbed further into the bed to stretch out beside him. “So much for that fantasy.” She laid her head on his arm.

  “If you want the steed fantasy, you’ll have to date one of the twins. Cowboy and Ranger have the horses though if you really want me to, I might be able to borrow a horse. I’d have to take an allergy shot first though.”

  She shook her head at the image of either of the handsome twins riding up on a magnificent white steed. “Somehow I can’t see that.” She wiggled into a comfortable position, her arm against his side and her fingers laced together across her stomach.

  “Speaking of fantasies,” Johnny said, “tell me what you dream at night, Randa. What keeps you awake as you lie in bed, longing to feel someone moving inside you?”

  Her skin flushed, her palms grew damp and she tried to ignore the way her pulse leapt at the erotic images his words evoked.

  How could she talk about sexual fantasies when she wasn’t terribly experienced to begin with? Could she admit she wanted a mind-blowing orgasm that she hadn’t administered herself?

  No, not yet.

  “What about some of your fantasies?” she countered.

  “I asked first.” He turned onto his side and forced her head off his arm. “Tell me, Randa. We’re steps from becoming about as intimate as a man and woman can get. Surely we can talk about what we want sexually?”

  Her teeth scraped her bottom lip then she blurted, “Multiple orgasms.”

  “That’s to the point.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the flash of his teeth as he grinned. “And it’s easy enough to accomplish if your partner is attentive to your needs.” He laid his hand over hers and his thumb stroked hers with a lazy movement. “What else? What turns you on?”

 

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