Men In Uniform Anthology

by Delilah Devlin

  He flexed his cock—or tried. “I think you’re too late for that.”

  “Maybe.” She rained kisses on his temple, forehead, eyebrows, and chin. “What now?”

  “Putting you down might be wise.” She wasn’t heavy, but his legs wobbled from his climax.

  Once on her feet, she adjusted her skirt. “Want to take a nap before we leave? I’ll guard the door. Hey, give me your gun and I’ll shoot anyone who tries to come inside.”

  He laughed so hard, he lost what scant breath he had. “We’re not leaving.” He tapped her nose. “And I’m not sleeping.”

  If it killed him, he’d stay awake as long as she did. Doing so the other night had been murder, but he’d survived. He elbowed the button for the penthouse suite.

  She bounced on her heels. “Is it finished?”

  “Don’t know. Let’s find out.”

  They used his remaining condoms to fuck on the sofas, a chair, and the fluffy rug in front of the fireplace until he couldn’t perform any longer.

  The final hours for his vacation had come to an end.

  Tomorrow, he’d have to return to work. And reality.

  Chapter Seven

  Upon Jake’s return to duty, dread hounded him. Longing, too.

  Never had a vacation left him this strung out and wanting more. Refusing to explore either emotion, he didn’t know what to do. Even though Krista rarely left his thoughts, he couldn’t keep seeing her and expect to hide what they were doing from his fellow officers, especially Patrick. If she dropped by the department to say hi while her brother was there…

  His stomach churned at what Patrick could do to his career if he and Krista parted badly…him wanting to keep dating others, her needing something permanent. For that colossal fuckup, he’d get the crappiest assignments and would work nights until he reached retirement age. He could kiss all promotions goodbye.

  Yet he missed her already, eager to hear her voice again, experience her playful teasing, laugh at something she said or did until he was breathless.

  I’m going nuts.

  Or possibly worrying for nothing.

  Krista wasn’t the type to cling—she was merely into having a good time, as he was. She wasn’t stupid, either, and wouldn’t flaunt their relationship to Patrick. Having grown up with him, she must know what a dick he could be when he didn’t like someone.

  Jake wasn’t certain how deeply her feelings ran for him, or his for her. His longing could be nothing more than lust. Hers, too. If so, their dating would simply run its course and everything would return to normal. Or not.

  He wanted to run but stoically entered the squad room hoping his confusion, guilt, and desire weren’t obvious.

  Manny and the other guys stopped talking. The two female officers glanced his way.

  Brian Trent wiggled his eyebrows. “Yo, Brennan. How’d your leak turn out?”

  Jake’s heart leaped, but he played dumb. “My what?”

  Everyone snickered, including the women.

  Brian rocked on his heels. “Hope you’re ready to be a daddy.”

  “You poor bastard.” Ernie Zalvado clucked his tongue. “That’s what you get for not being careful.”

  Another officer called out, “Who’s the unlucky lady? Wait, let me guess. Brandy?”

  Ernie shook his head. “He dumped her for Francine.”

  “I thought that was Gina.”

  “Nope, she came before…”

  Jake couldn’t listen any longer. Until now, he hadn’t realized what a dog he’d been.

  They laughed, and then the lot, except for Manny, sang the moldy oldie “Having My Baby.”

  Manny joined Jake. “I kept trying to explain your plumbing was the real problem. That you weren’t using it as an excuse for your rubber leaking.” He shook his head. “You don’t want to know what they said about that.” After finishing his doughnut, he brushed crumbs from his uniform shirt. “How’d it go? You get your pipe fixed?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “That bad, huh? I tell you, Sarge swears by the place. You should let him know it’s not that good.”

  “It was great, all right? I didn’t need the expense. Let’s drop it.”

  Manny’s thick eyebrows shot up. “Fine.”

  Patrick strode into the room, features glum, eyes murderous, his balding head reflecting the overhead lights. At thirty-eight, he looked closer to fifty and lacked Krista’s great personality and beauty.

  Avoiding eye contact, Jake took his seat. Sweat poured down his back and chest. He hoped to hell he didn’t look as unglued as he felt.

  The other guys hadn’t noticed Patrick’s arrival. Some still sang, others laughed.

  Patrick slapped his papers against the desk. “Quiet.”

  Everyone shut up and dropped into their chairs.

  Krista’s face and nudity filled Jake’s mind, refusing to leave. He gritted his teeth and focused on Patrick’s mouth, set in its usual ominous line.

  He spoke.

  Jake forced himself to listen. The briefing seemed to take forever, Patrick droning on about teens drag racing through town at night. The elderly jaywalking and nearly getting splattered by careless motorists who texted instead of paying attention. Alerts came next, particularly those for scam artists who preyed on local businesses.

  On and on he went while Jake could barely keep still, his pulse galloping. If he had to endure this tension each day, it might kill him. No woman was worth this. He’d had fun, but that was it. He couldn’t see Krista again.

  Except he wanted to.

  “Brennan.”

  His heart slammed into his throat at Patrick saying his name. Playing dumb, Jake finally met the man’s gaze and pretended nothing was wrong. “Yeah, Sarge?”

  “In my office. Now.” He left the room.

  The guys stared at him. Manny looked worried.

  Oddly enough, irritation, not fear, coursed through Jake. Patrick wasn’t his big brother or his daddy. He sure as hell didn’t have the right to tell him how to live or whom he could date. He was a fucking adult. Patrick couldn’t fire him, either. The union wouldn’t allow it.

  He’d simply make working here unbearable, like the jerks Krista had to deal with.

  Jake wanted to pulverize those creeps for giving her a hard time. Reining in his outrage, he followed Patrick into his office.

  “Close the door.”

  Jesus fuck, he knows everything. How, Jake wasn’t certain. It wasn’t like Krista to have told him. Maybe someone from here had seen them at the erotic museum, him fondling her ass, her groping his.

  He shut the door and faced the desk, wanting to get this over with. He’d deal with the fallout then.

  Patrick shuffled papers, his mouth pursed.

  Come on, dammit, don’t make me wait.

  He looked up, eyes narrowed. “You’re taking over the annual picnic.”

  The words didn’t register. “What?”

  “You and Peterson will handle the arrangements. That’s all.”

  Jake didn’t budge. His apprehension turned to confusion. “I don’t know anything about organizing a picnic or any event. I suck at that stuff.”

  “You’ll learn.” Patrick tented his hands. “Peterson will help.”

  He can’t be serious. “Peterson’s as clueless as I am about stuff like this, since he’s also a guy.”

  Patrick tapped his forefingers against each other. “Are you suggesting I ask the women officers to do it?”

  Jake wasn’t nuts. He lifted his hands. “I wasn’t even thinking it.”

  “That’s good. If I’d told them to plan the event, they’d accuse me of being sexist. The lieutenant would chew off my balls. She’s like that. Then I’d have to crush yours. So just do it, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” He pivoted to leave.

  “And Brennan?”

  He looked over. “Yeah?”

  “I don’t want any female coming in here to complain about you because o
f what you do on your own time. Everyone here knows you like to play around, but keep it zipped when you should and use your other head for a change.”

  Patrick had figured out the guys were serenading Jake with the baby song, the real reason he wanted a private meet in here, his door closed. “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s all.”

  Jake stopped at the water fountain and gulped several mouthfuls. Didn’t do zip to cool him.

  Manny sauntered up. “Everything okay?”

  Not even close. Although he was relieved Patrick had simply wanted to talk about the picnic and what a player Jake was, he couldn’t calm down. “Peterson and I get to plan this year’s picnic.”

  “No shit. That sucks.”

  “Tell me about it. Let’s go.” He led the way to their patrol car.

  As Jake drove, Manny filled him in on what had happened in his absence.

  Not listening, Jake nodded at what he hoped were appropriate moments.

  His cell phone rang.

  He stopped at a red light and pulled out the device. An unknown number, not Krista calling.

  Disappointment filled him. He turned off his phone then switched it back on.

  “We should take this.”

  He looked at Manny. “Take what?”

  “The call.” He gestured to their radio. “We’re the nearest to the incident.” He told the dispatcher they were on their way to the fender bender.

  Jake couldn’t have cared less about it or their other calls.

  Throughout the day, he had difficulty paying attention and had to push himself to stay in the moment rather than waiting for Krista to phone.

  When his shift ended, he drove home and collapsed on his sofa, too bummed and lonely to move.

  His phone rang. He glanced at the display.

  Krista.

  He longed to answer but recalled his panic this morning. Their relationship, or whatever it was, couldn’t end well. He didn’t want to ignore her or be a louse, and he would chew off his balls before doing so. But he was too afraid to talk to her right now or continue with what they had. Best to keep his distance until he could think clearly again. If that ever happened.

  He threw his phone on the chair, grabbed a beer, and paced. Tension burned his shoulders. Exhaustion weighted his limbs. He fell on his bed and into a tortured sleep.

  …

  By daybreak, Jake wanted to crawl out of his skin. He ignored his phone for several minutes then caved and checked it. Krista had left a message and a text.

  Everything go OK at work? You all right?

  He hoped she didn’t think he’d gotten shot. For him to ignore her concern would make him the ultimate prick. Plus, she deserved better from a guy. He texted back.

  Fine. Busy with the usual shit.

  Her answer came immediately. I’m glad. She sent a smiley face.

  His throat constricted. He wanted to talk to and touch her. He pushed his feelings aside and texted.

  Gotta go. Have a good day.

  Not waiting for her response, he turned off his phone.

  …

  The day ended up being as shitty as the previous one for Jake. He struggled to concentrate but did manage to perform. For several hours, he actually got into his work, barking an order at a mouthy teen, ordering a middle-aged man to get his rear light fixed, handing out speeding tickets like they were candy.

  Manny gave him an odd look. “You’re being a real hard-ass today. That kid was barely over the limit.”

  “He’ll thank me for it later.”

  “Or slice your tires. Uh-uh.” He stopped Jake at the car door. “My turn to drive.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since you’re going so damn slow. People are passing us, not even caring that we’re cops.”

  “Fine. Drive.” He stared out his window. Here 4 U emerged in the distance. Jake craned his neck, hoping to see Krista in the lot.

  “What’s wrong?” Manny looked in the same direction. “Should I pull over?”

  “No. False alarm.”

  Throughout their patrol, Jake repeatedly thought he spotted Krista but hadn’t. Each time, he had to tell Manny nothing was amiss.

  The moment their shift ended, Jake trudged to his car, started it, but didn’t pull away. He didn’t want to go home alone or stay that way throughout the night. Fuck, he wasn’t a monk or serious about anyone, not even Krista.

  Brandy might be up for a good time. Or Jill. Yeah. He hadn’t seen her in a while, and she was always ready to hook up no matter how late he called.

  He pulled out his cell, scrolled through his stored numbers, and reached hers but phoned Krista instead.

  She answered immediately. “Hey. What’s up?”

  His spirits and his cock. The stupid thing pressed against his fly, missing her as much as he did. “You still at work?”

  “No. My shift ended at two. I’m not on again until late tomorrow afternoon. You want to come by?”

  Yes. No. I shouldn’t. Shit. “Do you mind?” He should break things off in person. It was the decent thing to do.

  “Not at all. Are you coming from the station?”

  “Yeah. I just finished.”

  “Don’t change, please.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to see you in uniform—no, I have to.”

  He grinned at her enthusiasm and how effortlessly she made him feel a zillion feet tall. She shouldn’t. He was an SOB for having taken her out even once. And now… He’d rather face a bullet to his head than hurt her.

  Unless she didn’t want him as much as he thought she did.

  He frowned then shook off his concern about her feelings for him. As Patrick said, he had to use his other head for once and make things right. “Sure. Is now okay?”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Chapter Eight

  Krista bolted into her bedroom, tore off her oversize tee, and chose an appropriate outfit for Jake’s arrival, right down to her high heels, then brushed her hair and put on lip gloss.

  She’d worried about him not returning her call and text yesterday, afraid he’d been ambushed by a psycho wielding an assault rifle. Asking Patrick if anything happened wasn’t wise, so she listened to the local news reports.

  Nothing bad had gone down.

  Yet Jake hadn’t responded as he had during his vacation.

  He’s busy now. Deal with it.

  She slathered lotion on her arms and legs, hating to consider him pulling back and wanting space. If he did, like most guys, she couldn’t change his mind. She’d never beg or try to make herself into something she wasn’t to keep anyone around. She was better than that.

  Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to prove it.

  Primped and eager, she straightened her condo.

  A knock sounded on her front door.

  She smiled hard enough to make her neck ache.

  The moment she opened the door, Jake’s mouth sagged open.

  She’d worn her bikini top and short shorts that were almost decent. “Hey.”

  “Ah…”

  She’d rendered him speechless. How great was that? “Gawd.” She grabbed his uniform shirt and pulled him inside. “Damn, you’re freaking hot.” She rounded him, taking in the stuff he wore on his belt and his weapon. “Did you bring cuffs?”

  His gaze snapped from her pussy to her eyes. “Huh?”

  “Cuffs? Did you bring yours?”

  “Yeah, I—”

  “Let’s play cop and bad-girl arrestee.” She stroked his fly, his already impressive erection blossoming even more beneath her touch. “That is, if you know how.”

  He let out a strangled laugh and swallowed hard. “I think I can figure it out.”

  “Yeah?” She cradled his balls.

  He shot to his toes.

  She liked that. “How about you push me against the wall, spread me wide, and frisk me. Then throw on the cuffs, tear off my clothes, bend me over your knee, and spank—”

  His kiss stopped
her. His growl sounded positively dangerous.

  She shivered.

  He used his size and strength to push her to the wall. There, he broke free and turned her to face it. “Not one sound, understand?”

  “Screw you. This is police harassment.”

  He smacked her ass hard, unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts, then shoved them down, and stilled.

  She hadn’t worn underwear.

  “Fucking bad girl.” He paddled her bare ass.

  The sting surprised and faded into dazzling warmth.

  She slumped against the wall.

  Noise from his solid swats filled her small living room.

  He spanked her for minutes then huffed out a breath. “You going to behave?”

  “No.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He pulled her shorts off and tossed them aside. “Spread ’em.”

  Her already drenched pussy grew wetter. She parted her legs.

  Breathing hard, he undid her top, threw it aside, and cupped her breasts.

  Her nipples hardened against his palms.

  “You’re hiding something, and I intend to find it.” He fondled her roughly, frisked her erotically, squeezed her ass, then slid two fingers into her cunt.

  She gasped and pushed to her toes.

  “Don’t you dare fucking move.” His bulk kept her imprisoned. He kissed her neck and finger-fucked her, using his foot to spread her wider, his Dom possessive and unrestrained.

  Yes!

  She reached climax too quickly, panting against the wall, everything spinning.

  Before she could recover, he took out his cuffs and slapped them on her wrists, her hands in front. Using them, he pulled her to the sofa and looked down at her. “Bend over, spread ’em wide, and lift your ass.”

  Yes, sir. She did as he wanted.

  He clamped his hand on her hip. “You’ve been bad. Trust me, it won’t happen again.”

  This spanking lasted longer than the last, his paddling more pronounced, thrilling not hurting.

  She gulped air.

  He shifted then tossed his wallet on the sofa. Tearing sounded.

  Him opening a condom.

  A zipping noise followed.

  She wanted to look over and watch him pulling his cock out then sheathing it but didn’t dare, liking his caveman act, pleased to submit.