Length: Short Story
Word Count: 00,000
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Available formats: : PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)
© Cover Art by Jenny Dixon, December 2012
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
“I beg your pardon.” Detective Lola Martin gave the Viking a blast of ice from her black eyes. Even the meanest felons usually thought twice at that point, but blond, built Dean Winters simply folded big arms across an even bigger chest. He had the temerity to grin.
“Strip,” he repeated. “I’ve been a cop. I wanna see what you’ve got under your shirt.”
“No wire. You can take my word for it.” Lola brushed past him and looked around curiously at the interior of the old stone warehouse conversion. Funky.
“You got a warrant?”
Lola shook her head. “Nup. Don’t need one.” Yet.
The blond hulk lifted an eyebrow. “That’s good to know. So I’m under no obligation to assist in your enquiries. Right?”
“Only the fundamental obligation of any law-abiding citizen.”
“Where’s your partner?” she asked. “I need to speak with both of you.”
Winters shut the door with a sharp click and shot the bolt. Lola opened her mouth to complain but thought better of it. She didn’t want this meeting interrupted any more than they did. After all, with twenty-five years on the force between them, Dean Winters and Rafael Ramirez had about five times her policing experience. Not to mention the reputation they had established since setting up their private investigation business, No Stone. If they jerked her around—and they probably would—she didn’t want any witnesses to her humiliation.
“Ramirez is in back.” Winters led her down a narrow corridor and into a large airy office space. “Where’s your partner? Or are they sending you guys out solo these days.”
“We’re pretty stretched. Hey!” Lola reacted instantly as Winters turned and wrenched open her shirt, sending buttons flying. A second later, he blocked her flying fist and had her wrists manacled behind her back in one big hand.
“So you were telling the truth. No wire.”
“But very pretty breasts.” A tall, elegantly dressed man rose from behind a computer screen. He was as dark as Winters was blond. “Nice to meet you…?” He quirked a brow at his partner.
“Lola,” Winters supplied. “Meet Raf.”
“Get your hands off me!” Lola panted, twisting and turning to no avail.
“Lola, I can tell you now you might as well relax and enjoy the next few minutes,” Ramirez said. He let her struggle against Winters’s iron grip a moment more. “Or is that the way you like it? Against your will.”
“What?” she yelled. “Are you both insane? I’m a serving police officer.”
“Dean, if you take Lola’s bra off it might help her cool down. And then perhaps the handcuffs are in order.”
Lola froze. Had she heard him right? Were they seriously intending…?
“Look,” she said with a nervous smile. “This is a joke, right?”
Ramirez smiled and slowly shook his head.
“Okay,” she said in desperation. “A misunderstanding, then. Just let me go and we can talk about this. No harm done.”
Her words fell on deaf ears. Within a couple of seconds her jacket and ripped shirt had been tugged off. Lola felt the snap of her bra give, and the scrap of lace fell to the ground. Cool air peaked her nipples as cold steel clamped her wrists. She felt a frisson of heat between her legs.
Winters came to stand in front of her next to Ramirez. Both stood there assessing her breasts as if they were at a slave auction
“A little on the small side,” Winters commented.
“Shapely, though. And high,” Ramirez commented. “I bet the Lieutenant likes to play with them.”
“What?” Lola said stupidly.
“Your boss, Lieutenant Sharman. You are working under him, aren’t you Lola?” Ramirez asked.
Shell-shocked, it was a moment before Lola found her voice.
“How do you know about that?” she whispered. She and Ben had taken extraordinary steps to keep their relationship quiet. Charges of fraternization could have him demoted or even dismissed and her career would never recover. Shit!
“Cops talk. And we stay in touch,” Winters said.
“He could lose his job.”
“Not necessarily.” Winters’s smile managed to be both sinister and sensual at the same time. Lola felt another clutch between her thighs. She shivered.
“I’m sure the Detective’s panties are just as pretty as her bra,” Ramirez commented. He clearly hadn’t missed her unwilling response to his partner’s implied threat. “I can tell you’re the kind of woman who prefers matching underwear.”
When Winters started tugging her jeans down, she tried to dart out of the way and nearly fell. Only his beefy arm kept her upright.
“That was stupid,” he said as her jeans slid down her slim legs. “Take your shoes off.”
With a sob of resignation, Lola kicked off her flats. Winters put a hand on her rump to support her as he pulled her pants free of her feet. His hand didn’t move from her rear, and she could feel his warm breath on her neck.
Lola averted her eyes, not wanting to see their response to her barely-there underwear—or what lay beneath.
“Right again,” murmured Ramirez. He came so close she was virtually sandwiched between the men. “But as pretty as the wrapping is, I really want to play with the gift.”
“Please,” she whispered.
“Begging usually comes later,” he murmured, his mouth against her ear. His teeth nipped at the lobe, while Winters’s fingers curled into the edge of her panties and drew them down. In a second, they were on the floor alongside the rest of the clothes.
They stood back a little to see what they’d uncovered. Lola felt a blush spread from her face down to her feet. Blood pounded between her legs, and she felt suddenly wet.
It didn’t escape Ramirez’s notice. His nose twitched and she knew he’d smelled her arousal. She was mortified. Until she felt his fingers push between her thighs. Then she just felt hot. A long digit channeled inside her, and she let out a squeak.
“So moist already, and we’ve barely touched you. Tight, though, considering Sharman’s fucking you regular.”
“He…we…” she bit her lip. Winters’s hands curved over her ass and between her legs from behind, forcing them apart.
“What? Don’t tell me you haven’t done it yet. Sharman’s not a guy who’s into self-denial.” Ramirez paused.
“It’s not like that,” she panted. “It’s just… it’s none of your business.”
There was nothing to be gained by explaining that their only night together had been underwhelming for them both, thanks to Ben’s gentlemanly consideration and her inability to ask for the hard fucking she wanted. Both of them had fallen asleep unsatisfied and when she’d woken early next morning, hoping for a second, more intense session, Ben had already been showered, dressed, and checking his emails on her laptop.
After that lukewarm episode, she didn’t even know if he still wanted to see her. They were supposed to have dinner tonight to celebrate his birthday, but when he’d ordered her to come here to interview Winters and Ramirez, he had been curt, distant and clearly hung-over after a boozy night out with the guys the night before.
Ramirez’s thumb brushed her clit and she let out a cry, while Winters’s fingers stroked up and down her spine to her ass. Lola’s legs felt like overcooked spaghetti.
“You ever had two men at once?” Winters asked.
Lola shook her head, her unwilling arousal making it impossible to talk.
“But you want to,” Ramirez said knowingly. “In fact, you wonder what it would be like to be fucked by the entire department. Only you’re a good little girl cop and good girl cops don’t do that.”
Lola stiffened. No one knew that, not even her closest girlfriend. The only place she’d shared that particular fantasy was with the diary on her computer. Her laptop! They must have hacked into it. Or had she left her laptop open somewhere…no! The chances of these guys, experts as they were at electronic surveillance, stumbling across her diary were minuscule. And, in any case, what did they have to gain?
“It’s just a fantasy,” she stuttered.
“Just a fantasy,” Ramirez murmured. The tip of his tongue traced the whorl of her ear as a second long finger penetrated her, wringing a cry from her. “Now I don’t think that’s true?”
“No!” She meant it to be a firm refusal, but instead it came out as a keening sigh as Ramirez pressed a third finger inside her vagina.
Lola squirmed, more turned on than she had been in her life, even as her last shreds of sanity tried to resist the temptations of the flesh. She was a well-respected cop with a good, solid career ahead of her. She didn’t do this kind of thing!
Except that just this once she wanted to not be a good girl. She yearned to give her fantasies free rein at the hands of this darkly sensual rogue and hulking blond Viking.
Even as her body yielded fully to the probing ministrations of their devilish fingers, they abruptly withdrew. Raf Ramirez stepped back to lean against his desk, hands that just a moment ago had been invading her flesh pushed casually into the pockets of his dress pants.
Winters snapped open the cuffs and went across the room where he pressed a switch on a machine. Then he turned, massive arms folded across his chest, impassive except for the throbbing erection that pushed against his jeans.
Lola froze, confused. The opened cuffs clunked to the floor. “I don’t understand.”
“Get dressed,” Ramirez said, his voice steady but hoarse.
Lola’s overheated body cooled in a rush and she grabbed at her clothes, tugging them on with embarrassed haste. She felt like the biggest fool alive. Whatever had just happened and why, she just wanted to get out of here.
Pulling the shreds of her tattered dignity about her, she walked out the room and down the hallway. She drew the bolt, wrenched open the front door, and stood on the step breathing deeply.
Her car was still parked on the street, people passed by on the sidewalk on their way to the market or the office. It was all so normal—just as if this bizarre episode had never happened. If it wasn’t for the unsatisfied burn between her legs, she might even be tempted to think she’d imagined it all.
“Wait!” Winters called from behind her. “We have something for Ben.”
Lola turned and he pressed a DVD into her hands. He was grinning.
“I trust you have handcuffs of your own,” Ramirez added with a smirk of his own.
“Handcuffs…” she murmured. She stared at them open-mouthed as the penny began to drop.
Cops talk—clearly even by-the-book Lieutenant Ben Sharman when he went out drinking with the guys. He was the only person who had had access to her laptop and the diary…oh God!
The door shut and Lola looked down at the scrawled message on the sticky note attached to the front of the DVD.
Happy fucking birthday, buddy.