Passion Patrol 2 - a Sexy Police Romance Suspense Novel With a Touch of Humor: Hot Cops. Hot Crime. Hot Romance. (8 page)

“Since we met I’ve wanted you too. I want you to know that. I’ll try to return whatever you give me. I know you’re a reserved man in some ways, but you don’t have to be with me. Does it help you for me just to say that?”

“Yes. Yes, very much. I want to say things that seem wrong to say. It’s like an ache. I’ve not had these feelings.”

“Me too,” she said simply.

“It’s like Napoléon and Joséphine,” he said suddenly as if some beam of inspiration had found him.

Her nature got the better of her.

“Napoléon—wasn’t he the top pig in Animal Farm? I did it at school.”

“Shannon!’

“I was being a minx, wasn’t I?”

He chuckled.

“I think Joséphine was a bit of a minx too, and a lovely one. Napoléon fell so hard for her after one meeting.”

“And we’ve had four. Tell me more, my handsome emperor.”

He shook his head.

“I can’t hide how I feel about you.... I don’t want to hide it.”

“OK, I’m Joséphine. Tell me how beautiful, sexy, and intelligent she was.”

“She was all those things and she was very generous and extravagant too. I must admit I wanted to turn the conversation to her. She has a bearing on things....”

The wine was finished. He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. She let herself relax and flow into the sensation of a wave floating her away. She was breathless as he took her hand and led her through the gallery. He stopped in front of a portrait of a beautiful elegant blond woman.

“She is Odile, Vicomtesse de Saintonge. She was a close friend of Joséphine. She is connected to what I’m going to show you.”

Still flushed with sexual heat, now she was also bursting with curiosity. They mounted a wide marble staircase to the second floor. He stopped at a large paneled door. He turned the brass knob. He took a deep breath.

“It’s in here,” he said sheepishly, leading her in. The room was warm. A huge Georgian window looked out into the darkness. The polished floor was boarded but mainly covered by expensive exotic rugs. To her right was a bed, but not a bed like anything she had seen or even imagined. It was a four-poster, each post topped with a bronze eagle. Swaths of rich red and gold fabric hung down in luxurious sweeps. The mattress was high and thick and covered with an embroidered counterpane.

“Voilà,” he said, indicating the bed with a flourish of his hand.

She stared at it. So, this shy guy had thought of her and come up with a bed. In the still air of the room she could smell his skin. Some presence of him zinged and flicked her private button.

“This bed belonged to the Empress Joséphine. She slept in it with Napoléon. She was a generous woman and gave it to my great-great-great-grandmother Odile. It’s been here unused until now.

Shannon gave a squeal of excitement.

“Am I gonna sleep in it?”

“I thought, I hoped....”

She let him tail away. There was no way she was
not
going to sleep in it.

“Is this your room?”

“No, it’s the Royal Suite. King Charles II slept here with Nell Gwyn, but not in this bed.

“Who sleeps here now?”

“No one.... I wanted a beginning, something apart from everything that had gone before. I had this put here today for my own special Joséphine.”

She slipped off her shoes and swung herself onto the bed. Looking up, the curtains seemed to sweep up to infinity. The mattress was soft. She propped her head up and turned to look at him. Her blouse was still open, her breasts teasing and calling to his gaze.

“You’re so lovely,” he said.

“Better come and see up close then.”

He tugged off his shoes and lay down facing her. There were too many clothes but she was happy to slow down and savor these moments. She slipped her hand inside his shirt and stroked his chest, tantalizing around the waistband of his trousers. She could feel his tension and frustrated pleasure. His hand was behind her, pulling her to him. She felt him release the clasp of her skirt and slide his hand onto the fabric of her panties. She rolled onto her back, longing for his touch to discover her but wanting to present herself with a little more elegance. He had picked up her signal and lay back, rolling her on top of him. Her groin pressed on his arousal as she opened his shirt and bent to lick his chest. He gave out a desperate sigh. His pleasure at her touch was a delicious fruit to taste. His pent up desire for her doubled the thrill of him and almost brought her to release.

“This is a suite. Everything we need is here,” he said

“Can I be a real stripogram cop first?”

She didn’t wait for permission. She wanted to build him to a storm and soak in his helpless rain.

She sprang from the bed and stood in front of an antique ornate gilt-framed full-length mirror. He sat on the edge of the bed. She fixed his eyes with a look of brazen certainty. She knew she was in good shape and wanted to show off. She slid the police blouse from her shoulders. She saw him swallowing and taking a deep gulp of air. She turned to face the mirror and unhooked her black bra, letting the straps fall free. His breathing and gaze excited her. She turned back holding the cups for a few moments before setting free her breasts. She brushed her hands forward, making a show of touching her nipples and giving a sigh of pleasure. She focused her eyes on his groin, knowing that he would be hard, wet, and longing for her. She wanted any guilt of desire he felt to be her fault, her wantonness. Her unzipped skirt fell easily from her hips revealing her matching black panties. She slid her hand down and splayed it against her pubis, feeling a jolt of pleasure. She watched him shifting, trying to accommodate the power of his arousal. Her eyes conveyed a blatant sexual need. She slipped her hand under the waist of her panties and found her wet folds. He let out an animal groan of lust. Slowly she moved her hand, closing her eyes in ecstasy.

“I’m a little minx,” she purred in a slow dreamy voice.

She slid off the underwear and moved closer to him, tempting him to touch. Again she let her hand trail down to her hot flesh.

“Is it nice?” she asked.

“It’s unbearable.”

“And naughty. Your Joséphine’s being a naughty girl, my emperor.”

He reached out and pulled her to him, taking her nipple into his hot mouth. A zizz of current shot down to her sex and she had to hold back from the edge. She reached for his groin. She found him big, hard, and bursting under his clothing. She’d teased enough. Her hand on him and his lips at her breast threatened to snatch control and bring her to pulsing orgasm. She brought both her hands to his head and pushed back through his hair. He had tuned to her and sensed her change of pace. So, at last this was that chemistry she had imagined to be an illusion of fiction. Their charge and musk was one bond, one force.

“It’s my turn to tease. Stay here,” he said, releasing her nipple and sliding to the other side of the bed. He took a long stride to some double doors and stepped through into another room. Half a minute later he called to her. She could hear water running. She padded in naked to find a bathroom filling with the scent of candles that he had lit. A clawfoot slipper bath occupied the center of the floor.

“I’ll do your back,” he said, turning off the tap. She stepped into the fragrant water. The only lighting was the candles.

“Looks like you were expecting someone,” she said with a giggle.

The water rose to her neck. He smiled down at her, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest was muscled. His stomach was ridged and hard. She gave a murmur of approval. He undid the belt of his trousers and let them fall and kicked them aside. Only his white trunk-style briefs remained. She could see his outline thrusting against the fabric. Her eyes flicked between his face and his erection.

“No point in getting my clothes wet.”

“I think he likes me,” she said. “Show me.”

He slipped out of his trunks. She gave an involuntary gasp. His cock sprang free to upright. It was long and thick.

She put her hand to her breast and massaged her nipple in the soft slippery water.

“That makes me feel very, very naughty. Do you feel naughty?”

He didn’t reply but brought his hand to his thick girth and pulled down the foreskin over the straining top. She heard him groan with pleasure as the skin revealed the whole glistening purple head.

“That’s a lovely sight,” she said, letting him watch her own pleasure. “We’ve been alone haven’t we? I’ve been on my own with longing too. I’ll always love to look at you. You’re gonna be my sexy fantasy exactly as you are there if ever I need a fix.”

She knew at once he understood her. She had no hang-ups, guilt, or shame. Coming from somber loneliness into the light of sharing could take some adjustment of the eyes. She would just be looking at him.

He came to the bath and picked up the soap. He raised her legs and bathed her up to her sex. Then she closed her eyes as his large powerful hands soaped the whole of her belly and chest. As he lathered her breasts, her mind filled with the image of his strong body, handsome face and his cock. That surge of unstoppable pleasure grew and exploded as she came pulling his lips to hers. Her breath spasmed out in aching groans as she found his warm wet tongue.

“Oh, God—you made me come, you sexy man,” she said, at last opening her eyes. She had never let go with just a touch on her breasts. “You’ve taken my nipple virginity. Now it’s your turn,” she said, standing up and finding her legs wobbly. He was rock hard. She knew he could release if she pushed too far. She bent and kissed the shaft, tasting an aura of male. He stepped into the bath. She took his mouth in a sublime kiss and reached down to pull back the flesh around his tip. She soaped his body, carefully avoiding his erection. She wanted that for herself. Then she sat on the edge of the bath, legs apart, facing him, open to his gaze like a flower.

She could see the longing in his face. She allowed herself a gentle stroke of her inner lips. She wanted to come again. Just the presence of this powerful male who desired her had her hovering on the brink. He flipped to a kneeling posture and brought his tongue to the button she was bursting to push. He kissed her secret folds with the tenderness of a feather falling on velvet. She pressed his head to her. His tongue ran softly between her opening and her swollen bud. She cried out as her juice flowed in the throes of orgasm.

“I’ve dreamed of touching you like this,” he said.

More lunges of animal passion pulsed through her. She felt his finger slip gently inside her, filling part of her bursting need for fullness and heat in her belly. One more time his tongue and lips came to her button and kissed her to a shuddering climax. He moved back and smiled at her with a deep kindness in his eyes. Involuntarily her hands brushed down her breasts as he looked at her. Suddenly he stood up. His hard cock stood up to his navel. Still dripping water, he lifted her into his arms. His bear-like strength made her feel weightless as he stepped from the bath, cradling her like a baby.

He strode with her to the bed and laid her down kissing her lips with an urgent passion.

“I’m OK if you are,” she said looking into his eyes and nodding her assent and longing. He held himself above her, supporting his weight on his powerful arms and shoulders. He was angled perfectly to move into her. An exquisite semi-pain of wholeness swept in with a throb of emotional need for his seed. She looked up into his dark eyes. There was a passion and something else there too. He was her man in a way no other man had been. He kissed her deeply as he moved slowly inside her. His flesh was hot in hers. She found his mouth and kissed with her tongue, feeling him harden and quicken. She felt him begin to spasm as she gripped his hard buttock muscles and held him tight to her. He called her name as she began to come and lose herself in her own ecstasy.

“Let go in me ... come in me,” she groaned as he shuddered out a massive release deep inside her. Waves of aftershocks trembled through both their bodies. His juice blended with her own. They were one animal. She caught the male musk of his lust. She had made him burst with need for her and now she had his imprint. She was whole and complete and maybe, maybe loved.

She lay in the moonlight, her head on his chest. His arm around her shoulder brought his hand to cover her breast. She turned her face into him and kissed his flesh. She still tingled with pleasure. Ironically she had kept control of that first lovemaking by losing control of herself. She had wanted to make him feel that she had made him do it. She knew how much he had wanted her yet how much he had to overcome. Ever since she had seen him in the workshop she had longed for him. Some deep memory of the working men in the back street garage had burst out of dreams into real life. Young guys had teased and flattered as she had blossomed into a woman. She had hung around them with a spanner in her hand showing off her shape and smile. She knew, and all the young mechanics knew, that her dad would kill anyone who touched. It had been a delicious sexual tease that she had built into her rich fantasy life. This man beside her had wealth, power, education, and a family history stretching back forever. She was half Irish, half West Indian with a surname name pinned on like a luggage label by slavery. She had left her friends from the North Peckham Estate when she had joined the police. Many still saw her as a traitor. In the police she was an outsider. She knew she was tougher than most of them and actually rejoiced in it. She had had a couple of boyfriends but nothing had come to any significance. In the first second she had spent with Spencer, she had recognized that same solitariness and longing. It made them at least equal. If he truly wanted her she would commit to him absolutely. How could she live on from here if she could never have this joy again?