Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Her face is perfection.
Her body begs for my tongue.
From the birth date on her license, she’s also only eighteen years old. Goddamn. Almost half my age.
“You’re joking, right? I just got off work and am on my way to night class.” I may be working traffic, but I’m a detective, and I know when people are trying to pull one over on me. “I guess those frat boys partying ahead of me weren’t a problem?”
She’s got me there. Christ, she’s got me, and she knows it. She’s looking at me like she’s daring me to admit it. But that’s not happening.
I want to laugh. I want to put my hands on her face and laugh into her mouth as I envelop her plump lips with mine. Instead, I clench my jaw and look down at her license.
Her address places her from the other side of the tracks, which explains the sassy mouth on her. She knows the speed limit, and she knows she broke it. But she’s trying to talk her way out of the consequences.
Sorry, angel. Not this time.
Pain flares in my palm, and I realize I’ve been squeezing her license, causing the plastic to dig into my skin. I let go, straighten it out, and hand it back to her.
As she moves, the fabric of her shirt shifts, revealing the outline of her breasts. My mouth waters. I lick my lips.
What a tasty treat those would be.
I thought tonight would just be another slog through the black void that my life has become, but damn was I wrong.
Nothing could have prepared me for this.
“Your night class is going to have to wait.”
Her eyes flash as she looks up at me. Her face. What a fucking face. I can’t breathe.
I drag my eyes over her body, from the worn hem of her jeans to the stretched collar of her shirt. The way it drapes over her chest sends my imagination racing.
I will see her naked. And soon.
“Is a ticket really necessary?” she asks. “I wasn’t intentionally speeding, and there aren’t many cars on the road—”
Her voice cuts off as I pull open her door and snap my fingers. “I need you to step out of the car.”
I can’t be doing this. This is an abuse of power. But when Briar looks back at me, eyes narrow, questioning whether or not I’m crazy, I’m the one who’s powerless.
“Step out of the car? Why? So you can have your way with me?”
Her response shocks me. This little vixen has some spunk to her. I cock my head to the side in admiration. “Is that what you want, Briar?”
Her jaw drops. I tongue my cheek as my heart pumps faster.
“Yeah, that’s just what I want,” she replies mockingly. “Please, please, Officer. Take me now!”
If only she knew how close I am to doing just that.
“Don’t make this any harder, miss,” I reply, clenching my jaw. Am I talking to her or the erection expanding in my pants?
I’m already in trouble with the department, and what I’m doing now could ruin my career.
But I just can’t help myself.
“I get it.” She nods, stepping out of her car. “You’re another power-hungry policeman who thinks—"
A slight whiff of her scent drifts into my nostrils. Fresh flowers and citrus. I’m used to the smell of worn leather, bad coffee, gasoline, and gun powder. Her girlish fragrance sets my body humming and a pulse of blood straight to my cock.
Unable to hold back, I reach in and cuff her left wrist. Her skin is soft, like smooth, buttery silk, and my hand nearly bursts like it’s filled with fireworks. She gasps as I spin her around, press her against the car, and cuff her right wrist. Then I look down.
Damn. Goddamn.
From behind, the view of her ass is complete perfection. I’m growling as my eyes rake the perfect curves of her mouth-watering hips. Pure femininity.
No man has touched her. I can feel it. No man has had her, and no man ever will.
No man but me.
“Briar Beeman, you are under arrest for criminal speeding and resisting arrest.”
“Resisting arrest!?” she protests. “What? A girl can’t talk back to you, Mr. Big Man?”
Spunk. So much spunk.
I love it.
My pulse pounds as I lead her back to the cruiser. She squirms and twists against my grip in a way that would normally bring out my rough side. But I’m gentle as a lamb as I set her in the back seat.
My hands don’t want to let go. I nearly break as I pull back and close the door.
Breathing heavily, I get in the front seat and put the car in drive. Glancing back, I can see she’s watching me. Not afraid. It’s like she’s studying me. Trying to figure out who I am.
Good luck with that, angel.
I pull a hard U-turn and blast back to the station, the lights of her abandoned Honda glowing in the rearview.