Hot Cop by Laurelin Paige
“Good point. What do I care?” He rubs his palms on his thighs, his expression unreadable. After a beat, he shakes his head. “I’m crazy for even considering this.”
“But why is it crazy?” I ask, eager to push his consideration in the right direction. I run through rational reasons he might be against my plan. “You don’t have an STD or something, do you?”
“God, no!” He shudders as he scans the restaurant, as if he’s afraid someone might have heard me. “Would you keep it down?”
“Something else that would make it irresponsible for you to procreate?”
“Shhh.” He pats the air with both hands in a quieting motion. “No one else needs to hear us talking procreation,” he stage whispers. “Babies are actually not a very sexy concept.”
Uh, tell that to my exploded ovaries.
I don’t have to respond, though, because the waiter comes then with our dinner and Chase’s next beer, promising to bring him another when he finishes the first.
“You can cancel that,” he says, side-eyeing me. “This one will be enough.”
I chuckle, placing my napkin on my lap before cutting into my steak as the server has asked to test the center.
“Perfectly pink and tender,” Chase comments, looking at my plate. He makes even steak sound like porn, and I know my cheeks are equally pink when I say, “It looks good. Thank you.”
We eat for a few minutes in silence, the air between us just as charged as ever. But now it’s also thick and tense while I start to consider what I’ll do if he tells me no. Will I still sleep with him without the excuse? What excuse do I have not to?
He’s cleared half his plate when he wipes his mouth with his napkin. “You might not get pregnant right away. It could take a few months.”
He’s thinking the same things I am right now, I realize. Thinking less about the product and more about the production.
Thinking about a lot of production.
I clear my throat. “I know.” I haven’t been on birth control so I don’t have to worry about getting that out of my system. Still, statistics say that only twenty percent of women get pregnant in the first month. “And we should probably, um, do it several times over the course of the week that I ovulate each cycle for the best chance.”
He smirks when I say “do it” but he doesn’t push me on my choice of terms. “I mean, it’s not likely it will take long. I’m sure I have super sperm.”
I laugh and play along. “I’m sure you do. How could you not?”
His smile fades as he grows serious. “But, do you think you can handle that? It seems like quite a commitment for someone who’s sworn off men.”
“I’ve sworn off men because I don’t want emotional entanglements, not because I don’t like sex. I figured you wouldn’t have a problem with an arrangement that left out feelings.” The words are out before I really think about them. “Ouch.” I cringe. “That sounded less shitty in my head. Sorry.”
“I’m not at all offended.” He heads right to the part of what I said that interested him. “So you like sex then.”
I bite back another laugh and shrug, not wanting to give too much of myself away. “It’s not exactly terrible.”
“You do like sex. My little librarian’s a sex kitten. Admit it. You’re naughty.”
I can’t admit that I like sex because I’m not really sure if I do. I haven’t had a lot of good sex to know. I do, however, like orgasms. And I like fantasizing about good sex while I give myself good orgasms. If sex with Chase is even half as good as he makes it seem like it might be...
“I’m not admitting anything,” I say looking anywhere but at him as my body heats from the thoughts that have just entered my mind.
“You will,” he taunts. “I’ll show you just how naughty you are.”
My gaze crashes back into his, drawn there by the fascination of his filthy words. The way he looks at me makes me crazy. Turns me into someone I’ve never been. My belly tightens and my pussy clenches and the sudden ache I have for the fingers he’d had inside me so briefly is sharp and intense.
I have to have him.
I have to have this, too. This baby. This meaning for my life that will extend past this moment. Past this year. Past my death.
But, right now, I have to have him.
“Then you’ll do it?” I’m on pins and needles. I’m on the very edge of the edge.
“I might already have kids,” he says more to himself than to me. “What’s another one? That I know about.”
“That you have no contact with,” I say, reminding him of the terms, but I’m relieved because I know he’s agreeing.
“Right.”
I’m beaming now, almost unable to contain my giddiness. “You’re going to do it.”
“I’m going to do you, yes.” When I scowl, he shrugs, “It’s part of it. I stand by my words.”
I’m not going to correct him. Fuck yes, he’s going to do me. I’m elated. I’m over the goddamn moon.
With my appetite gone, I push away my half-eaten food as well as the centerpiece, making room on the table. Chase furrows his brow as I dig into my purse and pull out the papers I printed up earlier at the library.
I set them in the space between us, facing him and explain. “I used a legal forms database to pull together this contract. It’s a bunch of mumbo jumbo legalese but basically it states that you agree to participate in conceiving a child and will give up any parental rights. I’ve already signed. There’re two copies there. One for me, one for you.”
He scans his eyes over the contract and his mouth quirks in—is that amusement? Is he hiding a smile? But his eyes are kind when he looks back up to me, so I dismiss it.
I turn back to my purse for a pen. “I couldn’t add that you were doing this in exchange for sex—if that is why you are doing this—because that would make the whole thing null and void.” I did my homework. “Sex isn’t a legal means of trade,” I add a bit proudly. “Prostitution laws and all.”
I look up and realize he’s trying not to laugh. And failing.
“What? Did I do something—” Oh. Realization dawns on me. “You’re a cop. Of course you already know that. You don’t need to laugh at me.”
“No, I think I do.” He’s still very amused.
I don’t mind a bit of teasing, but this is serious. I worked hard on this contract. And this is a big deal to me.
I stare blankly until he’s pulled himself together.
“Sorry, sorry.” He holds his hand out. “Where’s the pen? I’ll sign.”
“Thank you.” My elation returns quickly as he signs his name in fine block letters. “Underneath the two copies is a printout of my most recent health check. STD free, as you can see.” He flips through the pages and glances at the one I’m talking about. “I’ll need one from you too, please. Before. You know.”
He hands my pen back. “Not a problem. I’ll get you my records.” He folds the top contract into perfectly even quarters and puts it in his back pocket before handing me the rest of the papers.
And it’s done.
He’s agreed.
Chase Kelly is officially going to bang me and put a baby inside me.
I’m nervous and excited all at once.
There’s just one last thing. “You can’t sleep with anyone else until I conceive,” I say as I tuck the newly signed contract into my purse.
“That’s cute.”
His face suddenly falls. “You’re serious.”
“I need to be sure your STD screening stays current.”
“I always use protection.”
I ignore the way my chest pinches at the idea of Chase sleeping with someone else and concentrate on the very real, very logical reason why I’m dying on this cross. “But we won’t be using protection, and I need to feel safe about this. It’s a non-negotiable.”
He taps his thumb on the table rapidly while he thinks, but for the life of me I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Is routine sex really t
My head says it’s ridiculous that he can’t keep it in his pants. But my body says there’s nothing ridiculous about it at all. My body likes how primal and base his urges seem. My body wants in on that.
I can’t believe I’m about to say what I’m about to say. “If sex during the week I’m ovulating isn’t enough...” I swallow. “Well. I suppose we can discuss some other arrangements between the two of us.”
I haven’t even slept with him once, and I already don’t know what I’m doing.
It works though.
“Okay,” Chase says, suddenly amiable. “You make a valid point. You need to know you’re safe. From now on, I’m only fucking you.”
I cross my legs tighter. “Until I’m pregnant.”
“Until you’re pregnant.”
Pregnant. I’m going to be pregnant. If all goes well, I’ll be having my baby before I’m thirty. I need to double-check my maternity leave.
On the topic of work… “We can’t tell Megan.”
“No,” he agrees immediately. “Megan must never know.”
“She’ll try to make us into a couple,” I say at the same time Chase says, “She’ll try to tell you awful things about me.”
I tilt my head, curious. “Awful things?”
“I meant she’ll try to make us a couple.” But he can’t look at me.
“What awful things, Chase?” It’s my turn to try to hunt his eyes down. My turn to wish he wasn’t hiding from me.
“Nothing. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re going to be the biological father of my child. I think I should know in case there’s anything that might be passed genetically.” I’m teasing him. I know what kind of awful things he’s alluding to. I have a brother myself.
“She’ll try to tell you about a toy I had. When I was a kid.” He shakes his head, his mind changed. “It’s stupid. I’m not telling you.”
“Officer Kelly. Tell me right this minute.” When he doesn’t give me anything but another one of his cocky grins I pull out the big gun. “Fine. I’ll just ask Megan next time I see her, you know.”
“Noooo.” He drags out the word like he’s really adamant. “Do not ask Megan.”
“Then tell me.”
“You’re going to laugh.”
“I won’t. I promise.” Which isn’t a fair promise. I might laugh.
“Okay, but if you do, I’m going to have to spank you later.” His eyes darken. “Or I can spank you anyway.”
“Chase!” Now I’m imagining his hand on my ass. Imagining how the slap of his palm would sound on my skin. How he’d massage the sting away after.
It’s a good thing I’ll be walking out of the restaurant with a coat on because I’m so wet, I’m pretty sure the back of my dress is damp.
He sighs, resigned. Then, with no trace of humor, he says, “She’ll tell you that I had a baby doll until I was seven.”
I can’t help it—I laugh.
Not because I think it’s funny that he had a baby doll, but because I think it’s funny that his manhood is so threatened by telling me.
I have to tease him about it. Forever and ever. Starting now. “Chase Kelly played with dolls!”
“Doll. Singular. One doll. Lucy. I cannot believe I told you this.” He’s mortified, and it’s payback for all the times he’s mortified me. “I had a baby sister. I saw my mother taking care of her all the time. It was natural to pretend—” He cuts himself off. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not looking at you like anything.” I’ve managed to contain my laughter, but I’m grinning. He’s a good guy. He’s got good genes. He’s going to make a good kid. I try not to wonder whether he’d make a good dad too.
Because, at least as far as my kid-to-be is concerned, Chase won’t be one.
When we’ve finished dinner, Chase helps me with my coat and walks me to my car, his hand pressed at the small of my back.
Strangely, I don’t have to direct him to my car. He already knows which one’s mine.
“There are certain advantages to being a cop,” he says when I confront him about it. “It would be unwise of me not to use our databases to check out my date beforehand. What if you were a serial killer or a vegetarian?”
I roll my eyes. “Your police database did not tell you that I wasn’t a vegetarian.”
“No, the Megan Kelly Carter database was useful for that one.”
I lean with my back against my Prius door and lick my lips before I realize what I’m doing. I mean, I want him to kiss me, but I don’t want to be obvious about it. And I shouldn’t want him to kiss me as badly as I want him to kiss me, but I do, and my eyes keep darting to his lips, begging him with my body when I refuse to do it with words.
“I’ll, um.” His eyes are so blue, even in the dim of the streetlight. It’s distracting. “I’ll text you to work out the details about…” I trail off. It’s real now. The foreplay is done, so to speak. Now onto what’s next.
Oh God.
He steps toward me, putting his hands on my hips inside my coat, which is unbuttoned. “About where we’re going to fuck first?”
My heart beats double time. “Yeah. About that.”
“It’s okay to like it when I say that, Livia. Do you?” He towers over me, his six feet so much taller than my five foot four frame. Five foot six in these heels.
I have no chance against him.
“Do I what?” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
“Do you like it when I talk about fucking you?”
I blink then tilt my head up toward him. “I don’t know.”
“You do know. Do you want me to tell you about how I’m going to fuck you?” His mouth dances around mine.
“I don’t.” I can’t breathe. “Know.”
“How about this—do you think about me fucking you? I know you do.”
I shake my head, but it’s the slightest movement. Because I do. I so do. But I’m not ready to admit it to him. I haven’t really even admitted it to myself.
But he’s determined. “I know you do or you would have worn panties tonight.”
I can’t deny it. I can’t do anything but fall into his eyes.
“I want you to admit it before I let you go.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He steps in closer, our pelvises so near to touching. His lips just above mine. “Admit you think about me fucking you. Admit you’re going to go home tonight and think about me inside you. Can you do that for me?”
It’s one word. Yes. That’s all I have to say, but I shake my head again, refusing for no good reason except that I’m not ready for him to leave.
“What if I make you admit it?”
“You can’t.” He’s so close his exhale is warm against my skin.
“Yes. I can.”
“No, you—”
He cuts me off, his mouth crushing against mine, and everything, everything stands still and speeds up all at once. Like the world around us has suddenly gone into slow motion, but we’re moving fast and frantic, unable to kiss and taste and discover each other as quickly as we need to.
He feasts on me, and I feast on him. His lips devour every sweep of my tongue. His teeth are playful and nip at my jaw. His beard is rough and coarse and will leave burn marks with swollen lips, but I don’t care. I want it all. I’ll take it all.
I throw my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, letting him know I consent. He takes my cue and his hands move from my hips to my behind. And then they’re under my dress, grabbing my ass, touching me skin-to-skin. One finger moves lower, sliding past my rear hole and dips inside my pussy. I wrap my leg around him, and he lifts me up against the car, not much, just high enough that my pelvis presses against his, and I can feel the stone ridge of his erection at my core.
Jesus, he’s hard.
So fucking hard that I’ve lost all sense for anything but
I’m ready to go home with him tonight. Forget about the fact that I’m not ovulating for a few more days. I’m primed now. Besides, didn’t he mention super sperm? Surely they can last a few days. Or even if they can’t, call this a warm-up round. Call this figuring things out before the real thing. Call this Mama needs a night out before baby comes along.
I shift and suddenly Chase’s cock is knocking at just the right spot. There. There. There. With this and his finger in my cunt, I’m about to explode. I dig into the fabric of his sweater and start to make a sound I don’t recognize from myself. A sound between a whimper and a moan, and I decide right then and there that I can never complain about VPUs at the library now that I’ve been Very Personally Used in a public parking lot with absolutely no regrets.
Chase grinds harder against me. “You’re sure you aren’t going to be thinking about this?” he asks against my open mouth. “Tell me you’re going to imagine me fucking you when you go to bed tonight. Tell me, kitten.”
I’m never going to stop thinking about this. I’m going to replay it over and over. Thinking of this night, thinking of Chase, will be what gets me off for the rest of my natural life.
“Yes.” I’m so close. “Yes. I’ll think about you,” I gasp.
Instantly his hands are off me, and my feet are back on the ground.
I blink several times, confused. Dazed. My clit is throbbing so hard I’m in pain.
Chase straightens his sweater, his breathing heavy. “I knew I could make you admit it,” he says, his cocky grin lighting up his perfect face.
“But—” Oh my fucking God, I’m going to murder him.
Murder him.
After I calm down anyway, which will require several cold showers.
“Don’t pout, kitten.” He pulls my coat together and buttons it while he talks. “We’re going to be naked together the next time we see each other. I want you thinking about me until then.”
I’m too mad to talk. Too horny to talk. Too dazed by his kiss and my hormones, and his stupid twinkling blue eyes.
After finding my keys in my coat pocket, he clicks my car unlocked, opens the door, and helps me inside. He bends down so he can pull my seatbelt across my body and fasten it.