The Cop - Read online

  The Cop – Lorie O’Clare (Jaynie's Story)

  Jaynie sat opposite the Chief of Police, staring at him as if suddenly he spoke some unknown language.

  “I don’t do partners,” she said simply, ignoring the man at the end of the table.

  No matter that he stood well over six feet, had a body that would make Hercules look like a teenager, and green eyes so intense they had to be contacts. More than likely he had a small dick and was so stuck on himself he thought his shit didn’t stink.

  She wasn’t interested.

  “This isn’t open for discussion,” the Chief told her.

  “You’re right.” Jaynie pushed her chair back. “I don’t have time to train some new kid. Give him to someone else.”

  She pushed her glasses up her nose, and then adjusted a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of the bun at the back of her head.

  “Furthermore,” her Chief said, obviously not getting her message that she wouldn’t work with this man. “You two are going undercover, starting immediately.”

  Damnit. She loved undercover work.

  And the Chief knew it. Talk about fucking blackmail. She stood up then leaned against the side of her chair, glancing toward the end of the table at the tall man who leaned back quietly. He was watching her, as if making note of her reaction to something he already knew. Those intense green eyes locked on to her gaze, holding it, making her heart beat a bit faster.

  “I’m sending you both into the inner city. Jaynie you will go under cover as a prostitute and Dorn, you’ll be her pimp. Your focus will be on the north end of Second and Third Street.” The entire time the Chief spoke he stared at her. “There’s a safe house at Second and Plum, on the corner, brown house. You’ll find your necessary wardrobe there.”

  Jaynie headed for the door. “I can find the house. But I don’t need a partner. If I’m going undercover as a hooker, I wouldn’t have a pimp.”

  She shut the door behind her, letting that be her final say on the matter.

  The safe house was sparsely furnished. She found the rack of clothing though, and picked out a skimpy outfit that looked like it would fit. Removing her glasses, she slid the skin tight dress over her and tugged when it barely covered her ass.

  “I don’t think it’s supposed to get any longer,” a man said from behind her, startling her.

  She cursed silently that she hadn’t heard him enter. Glaring at Dorn—what kind of name was that anyway, she turned her back on him again, searching for shoes.

  Strong hands gripped her shoulders. She stiffened, trying to turn around quickly. She wasn’t undercover yet and she’d be damned if he thought he could take advantage of the situation.

  “You’d look better with your hair down,” he said quietly, his voice a rich deep baritone that sent shivers to her toes.

  “I thought I made it clear that I don’t work with partners,” she said.

  His fingertips brushed over her shoulder and then up the sensitive part of her neck.

  “Just following orders. Sounds like we’re going to have to get accustomed to being together.” His fingers worked their way into her hair, pulling slightly as he freed her hair from its bun.

  No one saw her with her hair down, anymore than they saw her without her black framed glasses. She was a damned good cop, one of the best in the city, and letting her hair down was like letting down her defenses. It just wasn’t done.

  Those strong hands turned her around. Bright green eyes glowed with satisfaction while he ran his fingers through her brown hair.

  “Much better,” he whispered, then stood back, appraising the rest of her.

  “Your approval isn’t required here.” She had to keep her defenses up.

  Never in her life had she seen such a drop-dead gorgeous hunk of a man before. Perfect didn’t begin to describe him. The way his shirt stretched over muscles that she bet were hard as steel, and just a hint of hair peaked out at the top of his shirt, revealing a hairy chest, it was all she could do not to drool.

  One problem. Jaynie Ritchie didn’t drool—not over any man. They drooled over her. They begged for her attention. This slow seduction of his was going to stop right now.

  “Hands off, big guy,” she told him, stepping away from that magnet of sex appeal. “No one is the boss of me.”

  He chuckled. The bastard actually had the nerve to laugh at her. Fuming, she turned back to the clothing rack, realizing her hands were shaking.

  “What kind of name is Dorn anyway?” she asked, wondering why she was even bothering with conversation with this sexual prowler who was turning her entire body into an over-sensitive puddle of mush.

  “You can call me Q if you’d rather.” He moved in next to her, once again entering her personal space. “No one calls me Quinton.”

  Lovely, this sex god wanted to be called a letter of the alphabet. She shook her head, doing her best to clear her head of all thoughts of Mr. Q Quinton Dorn. She had a job to do. And Officer Jaynie Ritchie did her job damned well. If they wanted a prostitute, she’d be the best damned good-looking hooker on the street.

  Searching the floor underneath the rack, she kicked with her feet through the pile of shoes until she found the pair that matched her dress.

  “Oh that view will sell you in a New York second,” Dorn said from behind her when she bent over.

  Her face flamed when she remembered she hadn’t put on underwear yet.

  “Look,” she said, sliding her feet into the high heel shoes. “Why don’t I pimp your ass out? You already have the part of whore down.”

  The side of his mouth lifted into a half grin, and he took a step closer. “Think I’ve got something the ladies might like?”

  He had something she liked. She bit her lip in time before the words tumbled out of her mouth. Damnit. It wouldn’t be the first time she got in trouble for her quick tongue.

  Grinning further, he grabbed her hair, pulling until he brought her face to his. Without asking, his lips crushed over hers, while his other hand wrapped around her waist.

  Hot and wet, his mouth brushed over hers. His tongue pressed between her lips and when she was about to tell him where to go to learn some manners, his tongue impaled her mouth, filling her while heat rushed through her fast enough to make her dizzy.

  Suddenly all she could do was hold on. Grabbing his shirt, his chest was harder and even more developed than she imagined. Her knuckles brushed over bulging muscles that flexed against her touch.

  His hand slipped down her waist and he cupped her ass, pushing her against him so that she felt his rock hard erection pressing against his pants.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” she told him, barely able to catch her breath when he freed her mouth and sent a wicked hot, moist path down her neck with his mouth.

  “I don’t think its my nerve that’s turning you on,” he whispered against her neck, sending chills rushing through her.

  In the skimpy dress she wore she had no protection. And she would need a coat or armor to protect her against this man. Even then, she wondered if that would work.

  When he reached under her dress, caressing her bare ass, her pussy swelled, cum soaking her shaved cunt while her mouth went too dry to speak. He pulled her dress up, exposing her to him, then used both hands and tugged until the tight material was shoved up over her breasts.

  “Damn woman,” he growled, as he squeezed a nipple.

  “Shit,” she cried out, almost falling backwards in the very high heels she wore.

  There was no furniture to speak of in the room they were in. Dorn pushed her backward until her bare back hit the wall. Then grabbing both tits in his hands, he squeezed and tugged at the same time.

  “These breasts were made to bury a cock between,” he said, those way
too green eyes glowing with lust when she dared to stare up at him.

  “You think you’ve got a cock that could please me?” she asked, and then wanted to kick herself for egging him on.

  He had her so hot and horny that here she was seducing him when a moment before she wanted to kick his ass for being so pompous.

  “Undo my pants,” he told her, tugging and kneading her sensitive breasts with powerful long fingers.

  Licking her dry lips, she tore her gaze from his seductive gaze and let it stroll down his chest to his blue jeans. His plaid shirt, unbuttoned enough to expose delicious chest hair was tuck into comfortably worn blue jeans that hugged his powerful looking legs. When she ran her hands down him, feeling raw strength tingle against her palms, his hard abs had her quivering with need when her knuckles brushed against him.

  Wrapping her fingers around the top button of his jeans, she tugged, freeing it easily. His cock pounced to life, throbbing just below her fingers. Its movement made her pussy flare with a rush of heat.

  “Forget how to take a pair of jeans off?” he challenged her.

  “Take your own damn jeans off.” He wasn’t going to tell her what to do.

  No matter how desperately her body ached to have him inside her, her mind wouldn’t let her submit. It just went against everything she was made of.

  She gripped his wrists, barely able to get her fingers around them, and feeling his rapid pulse against her hands, she pulled until he let go of her breasts.

  “If we have to be partners, get it straight right now, I’m in charge,” she told him, and then made the mistake of looking up into those intense green eyes.

  They glowed like emeralds, amusement and a fiery lust making them look like rare jewels.

  “Then tell me what you want,” he whispered. “And know now, I don’t tolerate lies.”

  Taking that ego of his down a notch or two might be next to impossible. And being in charge was damned hard to do when the tight dress she wore was pushed up above her breasts. She reached for it, taking a step backward while struggling to unbunch the material and pull it back down.

  “Huh uh,” he said, shaking his head slowly while he grabbed her arm. “The dress stays the way it is. Tell me what you want, Jaynie.”

  She sucked in her breath. The top button of his jeans being undone was enough to drive her nuts.

  “Take your clothes off,” she whispered, her mouth to dry to manage any authority in her voice.

  He gave her a crooked grin, which was so damned sexy she almost came just staring at him.

  Slowly unbuttoning his shirt, he revealed a perfectly sculptured chest, muscles bulging everywhere with dark downy hair sprinkled over his flesh. She licked her lips, watching his hands move from one button to the next until with a shrug, he let the shirt slide off his arms to the floor behind him. In a fluid movement he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his thighs, even more muscles bulging until she would pass out right there in front of him from raw need.

  “Is this what you want?” he asked, stepping out of the jeans and then letting his boxers fall to his ankles.

  The largest thickest cock she’d ever laid eyes on danced to life before her. So much for her theory that over egotistical men had small cocks. That thing would do her bodily damage.

  “I’m not sure,” she lied, trying her best to make her expression coy and indifferent.

  He pounced on her, grabbing her too fast for her to react. And she’d always prided herself on damned good reflexes.

  Turning her around, he pushed her up against the wall so that his cock slid between her ass, throbbing and demanding against her most sensitive part of her body.

  “What did I tell you about lying?” he whispered into her hair while holding her pinned against the wall.

  In her high heels she was almost as tall as he was. She felt his hand move around his cock, and with little adjusting, that swollen cock head pressed against her soaked pussy.

  “All that cum couldn’t possibly be from lack of interest,” he said, again torturing her flesh when he whispered against her neck. “Spread your legs.”

  Before giving it a thought she obeyed, and then wished she could have come up with some smart ass response just to keep him in line. Words failed her at the moment though. That damned cock of his tortured her worse than anything she’d ever experienced. Not that she could think of a damn thing she’d experienced in her life at the moment.

  With a quick thrust he impaled her hot pussy, driving his swollen cock deep inside her, filling and spreading her, continuing into the depths of her womb. When she was sure he’d filled her more than any man had ever before, he thrust even harder.

  “Oh shit,” she screamed, scratching at the wall, struggling for something to hold on to, and finding nothing.

  He shoved that large cock of his in even deeper and she was sure she’d split in two. Pressure built inside her so quickly, so hard and fast, that for a moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could barely stand.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said, filling her and then stopping, his cock not moving, just pulsing deep inside her.

  He was going to make her fucking mad, looney, flipped out and completely incapable of a single thought.

  “Uhh,” she began, trying to speak but filled and stretched so far she couldn’t remember the question he’d just asked her.

  “What do you want?” he asked again, his entire body stilling behind her.

  His self control pissed her off. No one controlled her, out did her. No one. Not a damned soul.

  She shifted her ass against him, twisting and doing her best to move so that he would have to.

  Her efforts had his cock stroking the inner walls of her cunt, soaking her so that her cum dripped out of her pussy, drenching both of them and tickling her inner thighs.

  “Jaynie,” he whispered. “Use your words to tell me.”

  Now he was talking to her like she was a damned child.

  “Fuck me.” He was going to make her really mad. As soon as she could regain control of her senses, she would tell him that too. “Fuck me you bastard.”

  He pulled out so quickly and slammed his cock back inside her with so much energy she swore she felt it clear up to her throat. A scream tore through her and he did it again, pounding her tight pussy with more energy than she could handle. Her legs shook and she swore she would slide to the floor, the hard wall not enough to hold her up against this sex machine that was burning her cunt alive with more energy than she could handle.

  “Is that what you want?” he asked, driving his thick cock into her again and again.

  How the hell he could talk to her while fucking the shit out of her, she had no idea.

  “Yes.” She could barely utter the word. “Yes.” She managed it again for good measure.

  His hands moved to her hips, holding her while he pulled her ass back toward him and changed the angle that his cock hit her pussy. His extreme energy didn’t subside though. The heat between her legs grew, her pussy burned with so much heat she would explode from the inside. Pressure grew against a dam that was about to give out. She closed her eyes, panting as she did her best to move against him, make some kind of effort to regain control.

  It was a lost cause and she knew he knew it. His thick cock moved in and out of her pussy, stroking the life out of her. The pressure broke, freeing her orgasm so that it rippled through her, flooding her while a silent scream ripped through her throat.

  “You’re turn,” she said, breathing so hard she could barely speak. “Cum for me now.”

  “Still think you’re in charge, do you?” He chuckled, slowing his movement while his cock seemed to grow even more inside her.

  “I’m always in charge,” she told him, feeling him pulse inside her, knowing that he was on the edge. “Now do as your told and fill my pussy with your hot cum.”

  This time, instead of laughing at her, a growl ripped through him. He grabbed her hips so hard, his fingers press
ing deep against her flesh, while he thrust with everything he had, one last time, and then shot his fiery hot cum deep inside her cunt.

  For a minute, he stood behind her, holding on to her while his cock continued to throb inside her. When finally he slid out of her, slowly, once again stroking her well fucked cunt, she turned around, using the wall for support as she stared into those deep green eyes.

  “You learn well,” she told him, managing a smile. “If you continue to obey, you might make a decent partner.”

  Q Dorn laughed, his smile sincere while his eyes glowed with amusement. “You’re alright, Jaynie Ritchie. I think you and I will get along just fine.”

  “Oh, we’ll get along better than just fine,” she said, moving on shaky legs so that she could run her fingers over that hairy chest. “As long as you do what you’re told.”

 

 

  Lorie O'Clare, The Cop -

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