Indecent Exposure_The Academy
Page 26
“Yes, sir.”
Christ, on top of being sex-starved for an off-limits girl, I’m now a hypocrite. Didn’t I choose Danika for the demonstration because I hated watching her flirt with someone else? Because I wouldn’t mind pinning her, to put it mildly. Yes. Hell yes. And that moment of weakness is going to cost me big-time because in a few minutes, her curves are going to be pressed to mine. I’m going to have her beneath me. She’s the only one inside these four walls that could shake my professionalism with something as routine as a takedown—and I’ve damned myself with my jealousy.
“Was I somehow unclear?” Self-disgust makes my voice hard as I pivot to face Silva again. “To the front.”
The way she jerks on a gasp stabs me in the gut. For a split second, right before I shouted at her, there was wonder, maybe even appreciation, in the way she looked at me. Because I stood up for her? The possibility makes me wish I’d suspended the recruit who made the comment. Or sent him on a walk to Montauk. How would she have looked at me then?
Doesn’t matter now, because I ruined it.
Just like I’m about to ruin myself.
Following in Silva’s wake to the front of the room, I can’t help but suck in the fresh grapefruit scent that follows her. I don’t know for sure, but I think it comes from her shampoo. Perfect, now I’m trying not to think of her in the shower, soaping all those black, wavy curls she keeps up in her ponytail. Trying not to think of steam clinging to her full, sarcastic lips and taut skin. Good thoughts to be having when I’m about to wrestle her in front of a crowd.
There is total silence, apart from the lights buzzing overhead and the occasional cough. In my head, though, there’s a riot taking place. Will I ever be satisfied with five seconds of eye contact ever again once I’ve had her beneath me? Of course not. Hell, I’m not satisfied now.
“As you know, an officer never wants to end up on the ground. Your weapon becomes accessible to someone other than yourself. There’s a lack of mobility and a potential to be assaulted by a perp. In other words, this is a worst-case scenario.”
I’m about halfway through the beginning of my speech when it dawns on me that a guard escape is probably the most intimate move I could have chosen. It’s not something I did intentionally after selecting Silva as my volunteer, it was on the morning agenda—and now it’s too late to change course.
Silva is beside me, trying to look fresh out of fucks, but I can see the pulse going wild in her neck, the eagerness to learn in her brown eyes. It starts my own pulse hammering, that determination in her. That bravery. Just some of the reasons I can’t seem to make it through an hour of the day without thinking about her.
“The goal of a guard escape is to gain back control of the situation and get your perp cuffed, as fast as possible, before you can be subdued or worse. Understood?” I wait for the chorus of yes sirs before lying on my back. They’ve seen me down here countless times, demonstrating moves—it’s a vital part of their training—and I try and fail to focus on the familiarity of teaching. How can I when Silva is staring down at me, her mouth in a little O. “Feign an attack, Silva.”
“On . . . you?” she whispers.
“Yes.” She’s nervous. Before I can make a conscious decision, the need to reassure her takes over. “This is it. Your chance has finally arrived.”
Laughter ripples through the recruits and it seems to ground her. But I’m the furthest thing from grounded when Silva drops down on her knees between my bent legs. Her tits are still jiggling when she wets her lips, and I’m the furthest thing from fucked. My balls are suddenly five pounds each, pressing in around the base of my dick. Christ. This is already torture, but I have no choice but to get even closer. Any other time, I would continue my lecture from the ground, but I can’t. I have to get this over with as fast as possible.
Her cheeks are fire-engine red as she leans over me, her dukes up, punching at the air. And with a final hard swallow, I lock my legs around her waist, bringing her head down safely into the crook of my neck to stop the supposed attack. Then I drop a foot to the outside of her planted knee and use the ground as leverage to flip her over.
It’s the sound that comes out of her mouth that well and truly screws me.
That—and the way her eyes roll back, swollen lips popping open to let it out.
It’s a moan. It’s pleasure and excitement and need, all rolled into one little, choked noise that will probably haunt my every waking moment going forward.
Does she like being pinned down?
For a few seconds, all I can do is stare down at her flushed face, her body trapped between my thighs and wish we were alone so I could—
So I could what?
I don’t get involved with women. For very good reasons. It’s a rule that has served me well. All the rules serve me well, and I’m breaking them right now by keeping my hips planted on top of Danika’s stomach far longer than necessary.
“Find a partner and practice,” I call to the room, still unable to stop staring down at Silva. “I’ll come around and—inevitably—correct you.”
The room breaks into motion, and so does Silva, sliding backwards up the mat and rolling to her feet. I stand, too, facing her. My pulse is pounding in my ears as she hesitates, words poised on her lips, fingers twisting in her T-shirt. But she doesn’t say anything, turning instead and jogging away to partner up with one of the girls. It’s a good thing my brother approaches, nudging me with his elbow. Otherwise, I might have gone after her and apologized. Or asked to pin her down again. Jesus, what is it about this girl?
Her moan goes off in my head, gritting my teeth as I turn to Charlie. “What?”
Nothing can knock the humor off Charlie’s face. Not even me. “Nothing. Just . . . you really decided to make your move in a literal sense.” Before I can respond, he holds up his hands. “Forget I said that. Nothing was said. I’m just here to issue an invitation.”
He might as well have handed me a bouquet of flowers. “A what now?”
“You’re making this so easy.” Charlie scratches the back of his neck. “Ever is baking sample cakes tonight and we’re taste testing.” I say nothing. “Ever is my girlfriend . . . she’s the chef who’s catering our graduation . . .”
My sigh cuts him off. “I know who she is and what she does.”
“Considering this invite was her idea, she’ll be thrilled.”
That gives me pause. And an irritating tug in the region of my chest. “Tonight. Where is it and who is going?”
“Brooklyn. I can text you the address. It’s me, Jack, Danika . . .”
I don’t hear the rest of the names. I’m out. It’s hard enough to be around Silva at the academy. Seeing her outside of these walls in regular clothes, without the visible, concrete reminder of my position as her instructor to keep me away? Bad idea.
But even as Charlie walks off to go join the other recruits, I’m looking for every excuse to drive over the bridge later.
About the Author
TESSA BAILEY is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans, and laptop, and drove cross-country to New York City in under four days. Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at KDees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend, and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention. She now lives in Long Island, New York, with her husband and daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.
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By Tessa Bailey
Th
e Academy Series
Disorderly Conduct
Indecent Exposure
Coming soon:
Disturbing His Peace
Romancing the Clarksons
Too Hot to Handle
Too Wild to Tame
Too Hard to Forget
Made in Jersey Series
Crashed Out
Rough Rhythm
Thrown Down
Worked Up
Wound Tight
Broke and Beautiful Series
Chase Me
Need Me
Make Me
Crossing the Line Series
Risking it All
Up in Smoke
Boiling Point
Raw Redemption
Line of Duty Series
Protecting What’s His
Protecting What’s Theirs (novella)
His Risk to Take
Officer Off Limits
Asking for Trouble
Staking His Claim
Serve Series
Owned by Fate
Exposed by Fate
Driven by Fate
Standalone Books
Unfixable
Baiting the Maid of Honor
Off Base
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from Disturbing His Peace copyright © 2018 by Tessa Bailey.
indecent exposure. Copyright © 2018 by Tessa Bailey. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
Digital Edition JANUARY 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-246711-9
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-246710-2
Cover design by Nadine Badalaty
Cover photographs: © Michael Frost Photography (man); © rabbit75_ist / Getty Images (background); © Shutterstock (kisses)
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