Cop (The Police Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  Now they were just four guys, heavily armed, gathered on a street corner somewhere in the ass end of town.

  Brandon tried to hunt for a recognisable landmark, something on the horizon he could use to get his bearings, but he found nothing.

  It only added to his sense of foreboding, and he gripped the butt of his shotgun tighter, ready to aim it at any of the team who moved funny.

  Conrad looked from one of his men to the other, and then at Brandon, and without a word being spoken, they all began to run across the street to a house surrounded by overgrown hedgerows.

  They streamed through the gap where the gate should be, and fanned out. Brandon went with Conrad to the front porch, while Hemp and Kane took either side of the house to head round back.

  Brandon had no idea what they were doing here, and felt so unprepared for anything. His heart was pounding harder in his chest now, and he was having trouble filling his lungs what with the tight vest.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped Eve had tailed them here, but he knew she probably hadn’t. This covert op was off the books, and there was no way she could procure the man power for that.

  His feet clunked on the rotting porch decking, and he looked down to see the planks bending under his weight. He wasn’t sure it was going to hold, and he looked up to see Conrad ignoring it, pushing his back to the wall and peeking through a window.

  Brandon had the sense that his world was about to fall out from underneath him.

  Conrad gave the signal to take a position on the other side of the door, and Brandon did as he was bid. He watched the other man gently twist the door handle, making a face as it made a noise and clicked open.

  A few more hand signals, and Brandon had his orders.

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  Go.

  Conrad swept through the door, gun in front him, aiming it quickly into rooms either side of the hallway.

  Brandon followed, moving along with each harshly whispered clear, and before he knew it, they were climbing the stairs, with Hemp and Kane falling into line behind them.

  Almost as one, they burst through a bedroom door.

  Brandon saw the woman’s naked ass first, sticking in the air as her head worked up and down the man’s rock solid penis. It smelt of sex in here, and the woman yelped as she jumped to her feet and grabbed a bed sheet for dignity.

  “Holy fuck man,” the guy barked, and clambered backwards on the bed, trying to cover his cock with both hands.

  Kane grabbed the woman and span her out of the room. She tripped on the bed sheet, leaving it under her feet, and it pulled away to reveal pendulous tits with swollen nipples. Brandon tried hard not to look, but it was difficult. Eventually Hemp scooped up the sheet and tossed it back to the woman, and Kane led her away to another room, her swearing and consternation loud and obvious.

  Meanwhile, the guy on the bed had found a pillow, which he now pressed to his lap and looked up to Conrad who was hovering over him.

  “Every time I see you Mickey, you got your dick in some chica’s face.”

  “You need to learn some manners man,” Mickey spat back, but flinched when Conrad made to smack him with his shotgun. The movement was enough to discourage any further dissent.

  “You been avoiding me?” Conrad asked with menace.

  “Nuh uh.”

  “Then how come I ain’t seen you?”

  “Been busy man.”

  “Getting blown?”

  “Something like that.”

  Conrad flicked a look to Brandon, a little sparkle in his eye. He was enjoying making this Mickey guy nervous.

  “Where’s the stuff?”

  “What stuff?”

  “Don’t make me ask it again Mickey.”

  “There is no stuff.”

  Conrad gestured with his head, and Hemp left. Within seconds, Brandon could hear another room being tossed.

  A loud bang made them all jump a little.

  “Sounded like your TV,” Conrad said.

  Mickey swore under his breath.

  “Say that again, and Goodheart here will cock you in the balls with his shotgun.”

  Brandon shifted on his feet. There was no way he was going to do that to a prone, unarmed man.

  “He don’t look like he could,” Mickey said.

  “Prove him wrong,” Conrad said with a big shit-eating grin.

  “Where’s the stuff?” Brandon asked, stepping closer and raising the butt of his gun.

  Mickey retreated further into the headboard.

  This was another fucking test.

  Brandon had to show Conrad something now.

  But there was no way he was gonna beat this guy.

  And he was aware that Conrad was hovering at his side, expectant of something.

  Brandon raised the butt of the gun higher, still sure he wasn’t going to pop Mickey.

  “Found it,” Hemp called from the other room, and quickly arrived in the doorway holding a sports holdall.

  Conrad flashed Brandon a look that made him drop the gun. It was one of disappointment, and again his eyes danced to Brandon’s chest right where the microphone was strapped.

  They were nearly out of the room when Conrad pivoted, and smacked the butt of his own gun hard into Mickey’s pillow. Mickey bent double with a pained yelp, and rolled over on the bed clutching himself and sobbing.

  Halfway down the stairs, Brandon tried to shake the fear from his head and asked, “What’s in the bag?”

  No one answered him.

  Three

  Eve sat staring at the clock in the bottom right hand corner of her computer screen, then looked around the office. Most people had left for the night, but there were a few stragglers, most of whom were slowly putting on coats and gossiping. She wanted to yell at them to hurry up and get the hell out of there.

  Instead she picked up her phone and re-read the text message for the tenth time in as many minutes.

  “Heavy day. Speak soon.”

  She didn’t know what it meant, and could only hope that it was good news.

  When she looked back up, the last two people in the office were about to step into the elevator. As soon as the doors slid closed, she was on her feet, bolting around, making sure she was alone. When she was satisfied, she picked up her phone and sent a text.

  “Ready.”

  The wait was interminable, the second hand of the clock on the wall sweeping by in never ending circles. It was a full five minutes before there was a ping behind her and the elevator doors opened.

  She span on her chair and watched Brandon emerg, lit heavily on one side with the orange glow of the setting sun through the blinds. He thrust his hands in his pockets and flashed her a weak smile, slowly wandering her way.

  Eve didn’t know what to make of his body language.

  When he arrived at her side, he perched himself on the edge of her desk, and reached into his pocket to retrieve the digital recorder, which he handed her with a look of apology.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Duff beat on some guy.”

  “Great.”

  “Not great. I listened. My bullet proof vest muffled the whole thing. It’s unusable.”

  “Shit,” she slumped back in her chair and stared at the recorder in her hand. “Nothing else all day?”

  “No, they were careful.”

  “Like they knew?”

  “Can’t be sure,” he shrugged. “But I don’t think so. They’re just super careful. Wouldn’t tell me what was in the holdall.”

  “What holdall?” she looked up, suddenly intrigued.

  “It’s what we raided the guy’s house for. Tossed the place looking for it. And then they didn’t refer to again.”

  A moment of silence, as each was lost in their own private thoughts.

  “It was pretty brutal,” he said softly.

  “What was?”

  “The way he wailed on the guy.”

  “Saw his true colours.”

  “Guess so,” he lamented. “This ain’t what I got into it for.”

  The question hung in the air too long, and Eve felt stupid asking it.

  “Why did you?”

  Brandon sighed and looked up at the ceiling, his hands deep in his pockets. She sensed a schism within him, at once wanting to unload on her, and to keep it bottled up, like it somehow fuelled his actions, spurred him on. Having read his file, Eve could guess what it was, but for some reason she needed to hear it from him; even though she had no intention of pushing it right now.

  “My sister,” he said at some length, then looked down at his feet, smothering his own words. “She went missing when she was twelve. We haven’t seen her since.”

  That was all that he wanted to say, and it was all he needed to say really.

  Eve stared at her desk for a moment, and felt the tension in the air dissipate slightly. As bonding moments go, this one was pretty understated. But it had done the job; she had earned his trust already. And that was the main thing with a UI.

  “Right,” she said suddenly. “Let’s get that mic off of you.”

  She stood up and watched him slowly remove his jacket and pull his vest up and off over his head. His chest rippled with the movement, and his six pack tensed as he stretched.

  Eve reached for the tape on his chest and looked him in the eye.

  “This might hurt,” she said.

  He didn’t answer, just gave her another weak smile.

  Her fingers touched his chest and gripped the corner of the tape, yanking it away in one swift motion that made him hiss with pain ever so slightly. It left a red welt where it had been, and she had to physically stop herself from leaning down to kiss it better.

  Instead, she let her eyes drop lower, and she saw the distinct and obvious outline of his erect prick, trapped in his jeans. It was so hard, so could see the shape of his tip even through the thick denim, and she desperately wanted it.

  She looked back up to see him looking at her, a slight smirk on his face, and with a trembling hand that surprised her, she reached for his trapped cock. Her palm pressed into the stiffness, feeling the heat against her skin, and she moved her fingers to his balls, massaging them firmly with all four digits.

  Eve didn’t dare look back up, knowing she would see his eyes wide with desire, see his luscious lips pouting and so kissable. So she kept looking down at her hand as it massaged him, finding the shape of his shaft and squeezing, feeling him push back against the touch, feeling it stiffen and grow in her fingers.

  She licked her lips, and moved to unbutton his fly, popping the buttons open with trembling fingers and thumb, parting the thick cotton to reveal the bright white cotton of his tight shorts, his prick concealed within.

  Eve looked up, against her better judgment, and he immediately moved his mouth to hers. She pulled back, not letting him touch her.

  “No,” she whimpered, even if she didn’t know why. Instead, his mouth nuzzled into her neck, and she felt the rasps of air from his nostrils, just as he bit into her flesh. It made her fingers snake into the waistband of his shorts, and she quickly plunged deeper to find his balls, rolling them in her fingers, feeling his rock hard flesh pressing urgently into her wrist.

  Brandon stood up, urging his solid chest into her tits, biting harder into her shoulder, and working his jeans and shorts away from his hips. She laced her fingers around the base of his prick and gripped it firmly, loving how hard he was for her, loving the heat of his desire burning into her skin.

  And as she started to pump his length, she felt his hand slip inside her own pants, pushing her panties to one side and finding her clit. The moment he touched her there, she hissed with delight, gripping him harder and pumping him faster.

  His fingers worked wonders on her button, making her gasp and swear, making her work his prick in her hand with more furious desire now. She stopped suddenly, and let go, grabbing and pulling at his swollen balls, rolling them in her fingers, squeezing them, just as his two fingers stroked between her wet lips and eased inside her pussy. She stepped her legs apart to take them all the way, gasping and swearing when he started to fuck her with them. She could hear her wetness against those fingers, and grabbed his prick harder now, wanking it fast enough to feel his balls bouncing against her hand, pressing her tits into his firm chest, and rocking her hips against his deep, probing touch.

  It surprised her when she came first, so hard and so out of nowhere. She had to wrap an arm around him to stop her legs falling out beneath her, and he grabbed her ass with one masculine hand to support her weight. She bit his chest and tensed against the wave of pleasure, as his fingers curled and found a spot that made her eyes roll back in her head.

  All the while, she worked his cock in her fist, feeling it getting bigger and harder, feeling it swell and engorge. He was so close now, and his fingers were about to make her come again.

  When his teeth sank into the base of her neck, she let go, even louder and with more abandon now, just as his cock twitched in her fist, jerking hot ropes of his spunk over her hand and wrist.

  She fell back onto her chair, her chest heaving, gasping for air, coming down from an intense orgasm that was leaving her light headed. She looked to see him steadying himself against the desk, his own chest rasping for oxygen, his red swollen prick with its tip glistening with come.

  Eve looked at his cream on her hand, and bought it to her mouth, licking at eagerly, tasting him on her skin.

  “Wow,” he gasped, and she had to agree with him.

  They gathered themselves for many a minute, and finally looked one another in the eye. She wanted him again so badly, wanted to get to her feet and jump into his arms, wanted to push her pussy down his length and fuck him there and then; but she knew she couldn’t.

  “We can’t do this,” she said, so softly she wasn’t sure she had spoken.

  “I know,” he said, with as much regret in his voice as she herself felt.

  He pulled his pants back on and did them up, scooping up is vest and jacket in one hand, before looking her deep in the eye.

  “Same time tomorrow?” he asked with a lust in his voice that made her clit quiver.

  “Yep,” was all she could manage to say, and she listened to him leave.

  The moment the elevator doors pinged shut, she tossed her head back against the chair.

  “Fuck me,” she gasped out loud.

  She knew it was going to be impossible to keep her hands off of him tomorrow, or any other day for that matter.

  Not good.

  Not good at all.

  Four

  Brandon stared at the plate of food in front of him, his fork hovering in his hand, even though he had no desire to eat any of it. The eggs looked good, the bacon smelled good, and the sausages were tempting. But his mind was elsewhere.

  The cacophony of the diner sounded like a faded hum in his ears, and the presence of three well-built detectives each too big for his seat in the booth was but a shadow in his mind.

  Instead, he was still back in the IA offices, lost in the memory of the early morning start, flashing back to the sultry liaison the night before. He could still feel her hand on his prick, still smell her scent on his skin, and still taste her on his lips. He couldn’t shake the feeling of his fingers pushing inside of her, the way her pussy took him, the heat and wetness of her, all for him, in that intense moment of sexual need.

  And this morning was even more intense; so much sexual tension as she helped him tape on the microphone. The way her finger brushed his skin, an electric touch that made his nipples hard and his cock even harder. The way she kept looking from his eyes to his lips to his crotch, the way her nipples poked so violently through her silk blouse, the way he knew she was so wet for him.

  He remembered fondly the moment the back of his hand had brushed across her left breast, how big and swollen her nipple had felt, and the moment when he had touched her ass with his hip, how taut it was against him. His cock had been hard throughout, and it was hard again now, under the table in the diner, as he remembered the moment when her hand had ‘accidentally’ touched his dick again.

  He knew they were moments away from fucking, and that only the imminent arrival of her colleagues had stopped them from tearing one another’s clothes off and getting sucked into a hurricane of sexual frenzy.

  Brandon wanted her so badly, and yet knew he couldn’t have her.

  Maybe that’s why he wanted her as much as he did, but he didn’t think so. There was something about her that really pushed his buttons, a look in her eye that understood him, and at the same time aroused him so much.

  He poked the tines of his fork into the egg yolk and watched it burst, oozing bright yellow rivers onto the plate. He wondered what her pussy would taste like against his tongue, wondered how she would squirm and hold his head as he went down on her.

  A thump on the table made him look up. It was Conrad, emphasising a point, and getting some laughs in the process, even as the crockery continued to rattle from the force of it. The sound of the diner flooded back into Brandon’s ears and he knew the daydream was lost now.

  So he started to eat.

  Everything just tasted better this morning, even the cooling coffee. The sun was bright and beaming too, bathing them in a gentle warmth through the window, casting diamonds of light on the holdall sitting at the end of the table, leaning against the window.

  Brandon still had no idea what was inside, nor why they were carrying it around, nor why it was on such prominent display right now.