I put my hand on the small of her back and lead her out of the alley, onto the sidewalk. There’s no one out this late. I doubt anyone around here called the cops either. I take out my phone and text Nicky about the prick we left behind. He’ll clean it up. The fuckers will live, but they’ll know never to do stupid shit like that in our territory again.
As soon as I hit send, she seems to come to her senses and tries to turn back.
“I have to call for backup,” she says as she turns to look back down the alley. Fuck that. She’s not calling anyone. I spin her around in my arms and look her right in her eyes.
“It didn’t happen. Nothing happened.” A moment passes between us, like she's weighing her options. Finally, she nods her head slightly with understanding, but I know she doesn’t like it.
She looks past me at the passed out fucker in the alley.
“Don’t worry about him,” I tell her as I grab her by the arm. “He’ll live.”
She doesn’t put up much of a fight. She just looks at me with curiosity on her face. It’s not good that she’s curious, but at least she’s smart enough not to ask questions. I’m surprised how she lets me lead her out onto the street. She doesn’t care that I’m practically manhandling her.
That’s another thing I like. She obeys me, and she likes my hands on her. Fuck, I can’t help how much that turns me on. My dick is begging to get inside her. Damn it. I really was going to listen. I have to fucking listen. I try to will away my erection, but it’s not doing anything but getting harder for her.
As we get to the end of the sidewalk, her eyes steady on a parking lot across the street. I recognize her car and let her lead a bit so she doesn’t realize I know that’s where we’re going.
I push my luck a little further and wrap my arm around her waist. She doesn’t lean in, but she doesn’t pull away. I’m fine with that. I like feeling her body up against me. I know being out with her like this is a risk. If Vince sees it, he’s not going to believe I’m not trying to get into her pants.
Shit, I can’t even believe I’m not trying to get into her pants. I have enough willpower to say no though. I’m just taking a little more than I should. After seeing her take care of that asshole, though, fuck it was sexy as fuck. How could I not put my hands on her? I wanna teach her a lesson though. She shouldn’t have gone down that alley.
If she was mine, I’d have her ass red by now.
I always thought I wanted a good girl, but this woman is a bad, bad girl in need. I look down at her and watch as her eyes dart around the parking lot as we near her car. It’s the same shit she always does at night. I don’t like it.
“You alright?” I ask.
“Fine,” she says simply, and pulls away as she takes her keys from her back pocket. I let her go as she unlocks her car and turns her body toward me. I have to remind myself she's a cop, and that's not okay.
She looks up at me and I can’t help but feel like a dick for holding that against her. Besides, it’s fucking hot. I wanna test her, I wanna push and see what I can get away with. After all, she left that prick in the alley for my men to clean up. I wonder how far she’d let me go before she did anything.
I put my hand on her hip and push her ass against the car.
Her eyes widen as she gasps, and I swear her thighs clench. She bites down on her bottom lip, looking up at me with a hint of fear, but mostly lust. Fuck me, but I fucking want her. I lean down and take in her sweet smell, then dip my head into the crook of her neck. I want her so fucking bad, but I can’t.
I pull back and look down at her again. I get a glimpse of her badge, and suddenly she’s not the hot bad girl who needs a lesson. She’s the woman who sat in the interrogation room. This is a woman who may be setting me up, but all I can see is a woman who needs my touch.
Her eyes close and she tilts her head just a bit. Enough that it makes me want to cup her chin in my hand and start out nice and slow. That’s how I’d do it. I’d be sweet and gentle, let her lips mold to mine. I’d make sure she was relaxed after that shit that happened. I’d make sure it was completely out of her mind. And then I’d take her wrists in my hand, pin them to the car and push this raging erection that won’t let up into her thigh so she’d know how much I want her. I can see it all playing out before my eyes.
But I can’t have it.
I have direct orders to stay away. And usually that doesn’t mean shit, but Vince is right. This broad could be playing me. I don’t think she is, but she could be. All this tension I feel between us could be her doing, just so she can find something to pin against me.
My dick jumps in my jeans thinking about pinning her against her car and slipping those jeans down so I can feel if she wants me as much as I want her. My eyes roam her body in appreciation and when I look back up, her eyes are open.
She looks vulnerable and I take the chance to give her a little smirk and a pat on the ass. She may be using me and until I’m sure she’s not, I’m not giving her anything. Even if my body is fucking begging me to indulge.
She pouts and then narrows her eyes. But I saw that little pout. Sexiest fucking look a woman’s ever given me. Then she swings her door open and nearly punches me right in the dick. She smirks back with a tilt of her head before climbing in.
I grab the door before she can shut it and that smirk on her gorgeous face fucking vanishes. I wanna say something smart, something that an asshole would say to push her away, but there's a look in her eyes that's telling me it’d really fucking hurt her. And that's something I don't want to do. I should push her away. I know I should. But she just had three fuckers come after her and she’s not showing any signs of giving a fuck when I know she is.
It’s hard for me to understand. I’m not used to women taking shit like that. Not in our family. They stay out of familia business. It’s an unspoken rule. Women are off-limits. Yet she chose a career that puts her in harm’s way every fucking day.
My grip tightens on the edge of the door. I have no right not to like it. It’s her decision and she’s not mine, but I’ll be damned if I say I’m okay with what happened.
I ask her again, making sure the concern comes through, “You sure you’re okay?”
She blinks a few times as if gauging whether I really do give a shit before she answers. She nods her head and replies, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
She puts her hand on the door to close it, but before she does, she looks up and asks, “Is he dead?”
She keeps asking the same question and I don’t like it. Cops ask questions. And answering that particular one could mean trouble for me. The concern is wiped off my face like it was never fucking there.
“You have a nice night, Officer Kelly,” I say as I turn my back on her and walk away. I get a few feet from her when I hear the car door shut and her engine roar to life.
As she drives away, the anger and disappointment settle in. What the fuck was I thinking? She could’ve handled herself; I could’ve stayed back and made sure she was fine after the fact. Instead I got shit on my hands that she could arrest me for.
But she didn’t. I’m not sure I trust it though. I sure as fuck don’t trust her. As I walk away with more resolve to keep my distance and listen to the orders Vince gave me, my phone goes off. It’s a text from Vince.