Police (The Police Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Police

  The Police Trilogy #1

  Kindle Edition

  © 2014 Alexis Shore

  The right of Alexis Shore to be indentified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval systems, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the author. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  One

  His prick stiffened against her hand, growing harder beneath his pants as she massaged it with her palm. Her finger tickled at his balls for a moment, and then she rolled them around, before grabbing his whole package and giving it a firm squeeze that made him sigh out loud.

  Eve Knight knew it was wrong, but it felt so good to be here again, doing this, getting just what she needed from him.

  It was a shame this was going to have to be a quickie though.

  Time was ticking, the clock had started, and she had to be elsewhere even before she got here.

  But she desperately wanted this, and so she was putting everything at risk.

  She felt the heat of his breath against her face, looked deep into his wide eyes, and pushed her mouth to his at last, feeling his tongue penetrate and explore with an aroused passion that just made her clit scream for some attention.

  Cyrus knew how to press her buttons.

  Older men always did.

  His arms snaked around her waist, clutching her body closer to him, pressing her tits into his chest. His big, warm hand found her ass cheek and massaged it firmly through her skirt. And then he let go and gave her buttock a stinging spank that made her gasp into the kiss.

  Her hips began to rock, pressing her groin into his, feeling his shape and girth against her, just as he sucked her tongue hard into his mouth and roughly pushed a hand onto her left tit, finding her nipple with his finger and thumb and pinching it hard. She knew how big it was for him, and loved how big he was for her.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Slipping from his embrace, she dropped to her knees and gleefully tugged open his pants, letting them drop to his ankles. His prick was trapped in his shorts, its shape clearly defined against the tight cotton. His balls were so big, his shaft so firm and solid, his tip so engorged.

  Eve opened her mouth and pushed it over that tip, teasing at it with her tongue through the material, feeling his hands in her hair, urging her onwards. She ducked lower, finding one his trapped balls and sucking at it, before she laced her fingers into those shorts and tugged them down. The waistband took his cock with them, until it sprang free and bobbed right in front of her face.

  She wanted it badly.

  It felt so hot in her little fist, and she gave it a few vigorous pumps, before aiming the tip into her mouth and sliding her way down its length. She moaned as he filled her up, coating him with a generous sheen of her saliva, and then let him grip her head firmly and start to slowly fuck her mouth with deep, long strokes.

  She moaned again, this time deeper with more vibrato, and it made him fuck her face harder.

  She didn’t have time for this, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to end it.

  As he continued to stroke in and out of her mouth, she fumbled open her blouse and yanked her tits free from their cups, finding each nipple with a finger and thumb, rolling them in a tight pinch, pulling them out and squeezing hard.

  Eve opened her eyes and looked up his body, seeing him looking down at her with glee, feeling him start to fuck her mouth with even more vigour now.

  He was close.

  But she wanted him inside her first.

  And so she wriggled from his grasp and let him free from her mouth. A rope of her saliva grew from her lips to his prick as she stood up and kissed him hard, lifting her leg to his hip. His big hand grabbed her thigh and snaked her skirt higher, his giant fingers expertly finding her clit through her panties and rubbing it roughly.

  She gasped, and he pushed her hard into the wall, tearing her panties violently from her hips, making her swear with wonder. She felt the cool air on the heat of her creamy pussy, and all she wanted right then was his massive prick deep inside her cunt.

  Cyrus knew it too, and didn’t make her wait.

  His whole prick penetrated her with ease, and she gasped, throwing her head back into the wall as he ducked his head to feast hungrily on her exposed nipples. His hips began to work with power, and soon he was fucking her hard and fast, getting her so close to an orgasm it was unbearable.

  But he too was close.

  Too close.

  He grunted, animalistic, and tensed, and she felt his prick swell and twitch.

  When he pulled out, she shivered with delight, but pouted with disappointment. He rarely left her on the verge like this, but already he was buttoning his fly and skulking backwards.

  He knew it was wrong, always did it, and always regretted it.

  And now he was leaving her high and dry, so close, yet so far.

  Prick.

  Fuck it, she was late anyway.

  Eve sniffed and pulled her skirt back down. She was already out of the door, adjusting her bra and buttoning her blouse, not looking back, not expecting him to call after her, and not wanting him to.

  It was a mistake.

  One she knew she would make again.

  But a mistake nonetheless.

  She reached her car and yanked open the door, sinking into the driver’s seat and resting her head on the headrest. There was no way she could just drive off the way she felt right now.

  So she opened her legs, dragged up her hemline, and pushed her fingers to her clit, frigging at it furiously, listening to her wetness, loving the sensations as the noise of her soft moans filled the cabin of the car. She got herself off twice, then sucked her fingers clean.

  Time to go to work.

  She looked at the clock on the dash and swore.

  Way past time to go to work.

  She pushed the key into the ignition and started the engine. Before she put it in drive, she leaned over and tore open the glove box, grabbing her gun and her badge, which she tossed on the passenger seat. They landed next to her phone, and she saw the little light blinking, letting her know there were messages and missed calls. She knew what they all said.

  Where are you?

  The rear wheels screeched in the underground parking lot, echoing around the empty structure, and she pulled away, bumping the exhaust on the ground as she hit the ramp too fast. She ascended up and out onto the night lit street, suddenly needing to adjust to the orange dazzle of streetlights.

  A smattering of rain hit the windshield, not enough o warrant the wipers, and she sped off down the empty boulevard towards her destination.

  The light ahead changed to red.

  Eve checked both ways, and without slowing down, she ploughed through the red light and across the intersection.

  Halfway along the block, she felt the wash of lights, and a single parp of the siren. Looking in the mirror, she saw the black and white falling into line behind her.

  “Fuck it,” she barked, and pulled the car to the kerb side.

  She drummed her fingers on the wheel impatiently, as she waited for the uniform to clamber from his cabin, dust the doughnut sugar from his shirt, and waddle towards her door.

  The window descended with a metallic whine, and she felt a few drops of rain land on the side o
f her face. Eve looked up to see the cop, complete with jowls and five o’clock shadow.

  “Licence and registration please.”

  She sighed, and reached for her badge, which she handed to him.

  “Rat hunter eh?” he asked, folding the wallet shut and handing it back.

  “Internal Affairs, yeah.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Huh?”

  She was getting really impatient now.

  “Do I tell you head on out, or do I do it by the book and write you up?”

  “Do what ever the fuck you like.”

  Five minutes later, she crumpled up the ticket and pulled back onto the road, gunning it even faster now, and passing through three more lights. All the while, the black and white followed her, until it turned off into a side street and parked up near a burrito stand.

  Eve shook her head, and felt she could push it even harder now.

  The engine roared and her neck snapped back as the car accelerated hard and fast. She nearly missed her turn, and the tires wailed their annoyance as she took the corner too quickly. The street here was more narrow, so she slowed down, and as she grew closer to her destination, she turned off the headlights and cut the engine, rolling to a silent halt.

  She got out, closed the door quietly, and trotted down the street, keeping her head down, and avoiding the pools of light beneath each street lamp.

  Up ahead, the blue van looked so fucking conspicuous it was ridiculous. But it’d been parked there for two days now and no one had shown any signs of suspicion.

  Eve rapped her knuckles gently on the back door.

  She heard movement, watched the van bounce on its springs for a moment, then stepped back as the door was pushed open. The noise it created made her wince, and she clambered up into the back.

  Shut in now, she took a seat and watched Barry sink back into his.

  “While you were out getting fucked,” he said, wheezing against his own weight. “We missed him.”

  “What?”

  She nearly barked it, but kept control of her volume.

  “He’s been and gone.”

  “Did you get it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nada.”

  “Fuck.”

  “If you’d been here, I coulda …”

  “I know,” she snapped, cutting him off before he could make the accusation.

  “Two month op.”

  “I know.” She ran her hands through her hair and stared at the grubby floor of the van. “Shit.”

  “I gotta report this,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

  “I know,” she said softly.

  “Hope you came.”

  She shook her head, then lashed out with her foot, kicking a bag of chips halfway across the van. They burst and threw their content all over the place.

  “I was saving those.”

  Eve said nothing, and instead clambered out of the van. The cool air was numb against the heat of her face, and she paced in tight circles, silently berating herself for the fuck up. She lashed out at a stone with her foot, sending it careening across the sidewalk and into the side of the van. It rang like a bell.

  Before she realised it, she had crossed the street and was standing in the spot where the exchange was meant to go down.

  This is where she would have got her man.

  This is where a month long undercover sting would have born fruit.

  This is where she would have put another bent cop behind bars.

  But not anymore.

  Now this patch of ground was just a monument to another fuck up on her part.

  Eve knew what was coming.

  The fallout was going to be immense.

  And she wasn’t ready for it.

  Two

  It felt odd to Brandon not to be wearing his uniform.

  Not that he ever left the house wearing it, but as he was getting dressed, he was aware that these clothes would be the ones he’d be wearing all day. There’d be no need to change in the locker room, and he’d be in these boots throughout the shift.

  He pulled his battered leather jacket from the hook and slipped his arms down the familiar, comforting sleeves. It fit him like a glove, and he immediately relaxed.

  The first day on a new job, he might as well be comfortable in his clothes.

  A quick look in the mirror, a smoothing of the lapels, and he craned in to pick some sleep from the corner of his eye.

  Now he was ready.

  On his way out, he stroked the photo of his sister, then got in his beat up sedan and nursed it across town to the station house. After he’d retrieved his gun from the glove box, he climbed out and headed towards his new place of work.

  “You’re with me.”

  Brandon stopped mid-stride, and turned to see someone stood between two pool cars, chewing on a toothpick, and staring back at him with a wide grin on his face.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah you.”

  Brandon felt the gormless look on his face.

  “I’m Lieutenant Duff. Conrad.”

  Brandon smiled, finally understanding, and strode over the shake the guy by the hand.

  “Brandon. Brandon Goodheart.”

  “Goodheart? Are you shitting me?”

  “My Pop gave it me.” It was Brandon’s stock response to the query, and it usually got a weak smile, but not this time.

  “Your Pop’s an asshole.”

  Brandon stared at Duff, examining his face, trying to decode the tone. Then Conrad flashed a huge smile.

  “I’m shitting you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Let’s roll.”

  Conrad yanked open the door and was about to climb into the driver’s seat.

  “Shouldn’t we check in at the office first?”

  “Fuck that shit. Detective work is done on the streets, not sat at some computer.”

  Brandon stood for a moment, then shrugged. He was sitting in the car within moments, and Conrad pulled away so hard it made Brandon’s neck ache.

  “I thought I’d be on grunt work for months,” he said, checking that his seat belt was securely buckled.

  “Today’s your chance to prove you can be on my squad. Think you can handle it?”

  “Yes. Wait. What squad?”

  “Strike team. Anti-gang baby.”

  “Well, sir, I’ll do you proud.”

  “My pride ain’t got nothing to do with it son.”

  “No, I just meant.”

  “You just meant?” Duff slammed on the brakes and skidded round a corner, making Brandon grip the door handle until his knuckles went white. He knew what was going on, Duff was trying to establish his command. “I am personally responsible for hundreds of arrests this year alone. I am a one man jail filling machine.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “You damn right yes sir.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Conrad burst into laughter, and let go of the wheel with one hand to clap Brandon hard on the shoulder.

  “I’m messing with you.”

  “Uh huh,” Brandon gulped and nearly screamed as they just avoided slamming into the side of a bus.

  “Now, you ready for the most critical lesson you’ll ever learn about detective work?”

  “Yes sir, I am.”

  Conrad slammed his foot on the brakes again, and they skidded to a halt outside a diner.

  “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

  “Right,” Brandon said at some length.

  “Am I wrong?”

  “No sir.”

  “Then let’s eat. You’re buying.”

  Later, Brandon was staring at the remnants of his pancakes, watching the syrup gather around the gnarled bacon rind and mix with the remains of the ketchup.

  Conrad hadn’t said a word since they ordered. He sat there and ate, his eyes on everything except the table and his plate. It was like he was staking out the joint, and Brandon w
as his cover.

  Brandon balled up his napkin and tossed it on his plate.

  For the first time. Conrad looked at him.

  “Something wrong?” he asked, with a slight menace.

  “The eggs were bad.”

  “Come on,” Conrad stuffed the last piece of sausage in his mouth and gestured with his other hand. “You got something to say. Say it.”

  “I dunno, you shanghai me …”

  “Shanghai? I’m giving you a calling.”

  “Either way, you talk it up and then we sit and have breakfast for an hour.”

  “You think this is breakfast?”

  “There’s eggs. There’s bacon.”

  “Let me tell you something about yourself son.”

  “Go ahead. Tell me everything.”

  Conrad smiled at the interjection, but it quickly died on his face.

  “You’re one of those idealists, I can tell. You got into this why? Because of a higher calling? Or some sense of justice?”

  “Didn’t we all?”

  “I got into this cos it’s in my bones boy. In my bones.”

  “So what? You’re better than me?”

  “Damn straight I’m better than you.”

  “You would think that.”

  “In the time it took you to scarf back your pancakes, I witnessed three drug drops. What stellar police work did you do, other than spill syrup on your shirt?”

  “What?” Brandon looked from the stain on his shirt and then around the diner, wondering where the drops had taken place. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No son, I ain’t kidding you.”

  Conrad pushed his plate away and sat back in the booth, his stomach out like he’d just finished a massive feast.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “And that’s the point, isn’t it?”

  The question hung in the air.

  “My sister,” Brandon said, suddenly, and without knowing why.

  “Your sister.”

  “Yeah,” he coughed away the crack in his voice. “She went missing a decade ago.”

  “And ever since you wanted to be po-lice?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Something like that.”

  Conrad smiled, then picked some meat from his teeth.

  “Then start acting like good police.”

  Conrad was on his feet and striding out of the diner.