Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart jumps when I hear someone pounding on the front door. I can’t imagine who it could be at this time of night. Chris has his own keys and said he would call when he was on his way home from work, with more instructions for the role-play game he wants to play tonight.
After leaving the alley the other night, Chris and I went home and talked for hours, curled up on the couch under a blanket, our arms and legs twined together. We shared our hopes and dreams for the future, our longings, secret desires, and fantasies. Somewhere between the time we got home and the crack of dawn, we laid bare all the fear and anger that had driven us apart until there was nothing left but the connection forged one morning at a bus stop when the 401 drove away, leaving me in the arms of the man I was born to love.
A man with a delicious dominant side and a love of role play.
Tonight is Chris’s night. He wants to show me the side of himself that had been stifled by his mother’s expectations and his own fear of failure. He wants to play a game.
I race down the stairs and through the living room to the front door, tightening the belt of my silk robe around me. Chris instructed me to put on something sexy and seductive and wait for further instructions in bed. I wasn’t expecting visitors.
A quick check through the peephole reveals a police uniform and my heart leaps in my chest. Did something happen to Chris on his way home? Have I lost him after only finding him again?
“Is everything okay?” My words catch in my throat when I see Chris on the front step, his face cold and hard like it was every night over the last year. But instead of his work vest and coveralls, he’s wearing a police uniform: dark blue shirt with gold buttons, a shiny gold police badge, and a domed blue hat. He has a utility belt strapped around his waist containing everything from a stick to handcuffs and from radios to . . . a gun?
“Ms. Lily Meyers?” His gaze travels down my body and then up again, his eyes widening with undisguised interest when I pull the robe tight over my breasts.
“Yes.” I take a deep breath and then another, settling back into my maiden name. I’ve got this. He’s the cop and I’m . . . not sure who he wants me to be, but I have a feeling he wants me to be bad because no one puts a good girl in cuffs.
“Officer Taylor with the Revival police. We’ve had a report of a theft. The complainant, Chris Anderson, says he was waiting for the bus, and you seduced him, lured him into a back alley for sex, and then stole his wallet when he was . . . incapacitated.”
My mouth opens and closes again. Anderson is Chris’s middle name and he’s describing our first date, except it didn’t happen quite that way. The day I finally returned to the bus stop, he gave me the flowers and made me promise to meet him for dinner at a local tapas bar. We had an instant connection. One thing led to another, and we wound up having sex in the back alley behind the bar where we’d danced all night. Unfortunately, we weren’t very discreet, and Chris lost his wallet when we had to make a quick getaway. Lucky for him, a good Samaritan turned in it in the next day.
“I’m afraid you’ve heard wrong. I don’t follow men. They follow me.” I figure I’ll give him some attitude, play the high-society entitled woman his mother always wanted him to marry. I move to close the door, and he grabs it with a heavy hand and pulls it wide open.
“Then you won’t mind me coming inside to check for the missing wallet.” He shoulders his way in, slams and locks the door behind him. Although this is the man I’ve known for the last fifteen years, he seems much bigger in the small vestibule, and very imposing in his police uniform. His biceps bulge from beneath the sleeves and the shirt stretches tight over his broad chest. The handcuffs clank slowly as he walks, and a thrill of excitement shoots through me as I contemplate what he might do with them if I don’t comply with his demands.
“Don’t you need a warrant?” I put a hand on my hip, lift my chin so he knows this won’t be easy.
He leans against the door and folds his arms across his chest and studies me intently, his gaze now dark and dangerous, as if everything changed the moment he closed the door.
“I’ve got a warrant for you.” Without taking his eyes off me, he cups his groin and gives it a lewd tug. “Right here.”
My heart thuds wildly in my chest, as if a bad cop really had invaded my home with malicious intent. I spin around and run through the living room to the kitchen, where I have the best chance of finding a weapon.
Chris laughs, a cruel mocking sound, and his boots thud across the carpet. “Where are you running to, sweet thing?” He stops in the doorway of the kitchen, blocking my only exit. “The way I see it, you have two choices. One, I take you down to the station and charge you with theft and public indecency. I strip off those pretty clothes, put you in a jumpsuit, and toss you in jail with the dregs of Indianapolis. Or two, you get down off your high horse and convince me it was all a big misunderstanding.”
My God. He is really into this, and totally and utterly convincing in his role as a badass cop. How can you know someone for fifteen years and not really know him at all?
“I have a knife.” I pull a blade from the knife block and an amused smile plays over his lips.
“You want to trade all those misdemeanours in for a felony? Be my guest. I would be more than happy to throw you in my cruiser and take you for a ride, although I can’t promise we’d make it to the station without a detour along a dark gravel road in the middle of nowhere.” He tugs open his belt. “Or you can get on your knees in your cozy little kitchen and show me how sorry you are for breaking the law.”
“I didn’t break any laws.” Desire pools between my thighs, pounds through my veins at the thought of kneeling at the feet of this seemingly cold, callous man who holds so much power over me. “You can search the house. You won’t find anything.”
Smirking, he points to the dining room table. How did I not notice his wallet sitting in the center of the table?
“I don’t know how it got here.” My bottom lip trembles. “I didn’t take it.”
“Of course you didn’t,” he says, tugging open his fly. “But there it is, sitting on your table, and you’re the only one here. Now get that smart little mouth over here and we can start crossing all those misdemeanours off the list.”
I sniff, as if I find the whole thing disdainful and make my way toward him. “What you’re doing is illegal.”
“I’m not doing anything.” He points to the floor. “You’re the one who’ll be doing all the work.”
“Fine.” I sigh, although my heart is pounding. “I’m telling the truth, but if this is what it takes to get you out of here, I can spare five minutes.”
I kneel on the cold floor in front of him and look up, shuddering at the intensity of his gaze, his cool detachment.
“Take it out.”
I feel those three words as a throb between my legs. We have only begun and already I am so wet I can feel the trickle of my arousal on my inner thigh. My breasts feel swollen beneath the red lace bra I bought to match the gartered panty-and-stocking set I had to have when I walked into Revival’s only lingerie shop.
His cock, thick and hard, bounces gently in my direction when I pull his pants and boxers down to remove it from its restraint. He makes no move to help me, just watches as if I were something between a mild irritation and a fleeting amusement.
“Tell me you’re sorry.”
I swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”
“Show me. Make it good.”
I lick his entire length from balls to tip and he doesn’t even flinch. Irritated by his self-restraint when I’m so close to coming all it would take is a single flick of his tongue, I wrap one hand around the base of his cock and pump, squeezing so hard I’m almost afraid I’ll hurt him.
Chris hisses in a breath and fists my hair, angling my head back. “Take me in. All the way.” He pushes his cock into my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat, and I gag. We’ve never played so rough before; he’s never been so deep.
“Breathe.” He retreats enough for me to recover and thrusts in again. This time I’m ready and I wrap my lips around him and work his length with my hand and mouth moving in counterpoint.
Need ratchets through me with every forceful thrust and I slide my hand between my legs to pleasure myself. After a lifetime of trying to prove to an absent father that I was worth keeping, I lost sight of what I wanted and what I needed to make myself happy. I wanted a husband who followed his heart. It didn’t matter if he came home with calluses instead of ink stains and coveralls instead of a suit. But I never told that to Chris. I let him take a job I knew he would hate. And I let him sit at home and spiral into depression after he lost it.
Now I know what I want. I know how to get it. And I am brave enough to take that step. For both of us.
Chris stiffens, his shaft turning rock hard in my mouth. I increase the pressure and he comes down my throat with a guttural groan.
“That get you off?” he says after he withdraws. His cock is still semi-erect and I have a feeling we are nowhere near done.
“No. Of course not.” I stand and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, tasting his cum on my tongue. “But you’ve got what you wanted, so now it’s time for you to go.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.” He points to the floor. “Lie back and spread your legs. Show me how much you liked sucking my cock.”
Even deep in the game, I balk at lying on the kitchen floor under the bright halogen lights and exposing myself so completely. With the barest lift of an exasperated eyebrow, I turn and bolt away.
Big mistake. I make it only as far as the dining room before a thick arm slides around my waist and I am hauled back into a rock-hard body.
“Resisting arrest.” He laughs softly. “You’re making this night even more enjoyable.” With one hand around my throat, holding me still, he strips off my dressing gown and shoves his hand between my legs. “Unfortunately, sweet thing, there is no resisting me.” Pushing my panties aside, he presses a thick, callused finger inside me.
I almost come right then.
“So wet. No wonder you were so quick to drop to your knees,” he murmurs in my ear as he adds a second finger.
Desire shivers through me and my knees buckle. If not for his strong arm around my waist, I’d be on my knees again.
“Shhhh.” He pumps his fingers deep inside me, teasing my clit with the palm of his hand. But it’s the pressure against my throat that makes me tremble, the control he has that makes me hot inside.
“Don’t fight it. You’re not going anywhere. We’ll let this punishment fit the crime. I’m going to make it so you can’t resist anymore.”
“Please . . .” I don’t know if I want him to stop or not to stop, but it isn’t up to me. When he adds a third finger, stretching me as he thrusts deep and hard, dragging his fingertips over my G-spot, and pressing hard against my clit, I am lost. Soaring on a current of pleasure so intense it arcs through my body from my head to my toes.
Chris holds me tight as I come down, sighing his disapproval. “Naughty girl. You made my hand all wet.”
“You made my lips all wet. Now we’re even.”
“Nice try.” I hear the clink of a chain and then cold steel snaps around my wrist. “But we’re just getting started.”