Badge Boys Page 5

  Ivan was speaking to her. “Where will you go?”

  Damn but his voice did things to her. Check that, both of their voices did things to her. Curiouser and curiouser.

  Where was Alice? Surely she was tripping in Wonderland. Or maybe was just a little too sedated on the pain meds. She struggled to answer his question.

  “I haven’t got a clue in hell.” Which she didn’t. Last time she checked, the market was barren. All of a sudden, no one wanted to move. Or perhaps the market had gotten so far out of hand that no one could afford to move. She had a set price. She was sticking to it. For now. Anyway. Maybe. She was under no pressure.

  “Well, now your truck is secure, I need to run back and find mine. You need your pain pills and you need to be in bed,” Ivan said, again with that take-charge sort of voice.

  She nodded her agreement then wished she hadn’t moved her head. She could swear that her brain rattled. She needed to be laying down. Flat out. Sleeping. If you come with me.

  “Do you need any help?” Troublemaker number one.

  Oh God, he just had to ask. Too bad she didn’t dare answer. Not the way she wanted to answer.

  “I’m okay. I can get there myself.” She stood up, held out her good hand. “See? Not much of a wobble. Besides, I need to feed the cat.”

  She proved that by stomping into the kitchen and fetching the pill bottle. She took half a pill, made a note on the pad she had placed there, and left the bottle in the kitchen. She had managed to carry what was left of the now-cold specialty coffee with her and shoved that into the fridge.

  “What about dinner?” Ivan asked. His twin wasn’t saying anything. But Troy’s blue eyes were the same as his brother’s and they were setting off alarm bells in her system.

  Oh good grief!

  “What about it? I can skip a meal or two and not even notice. I have protein shakes in every cupboard. I’m fine.” She grabbed a bottle of diet Gatorade.

  “You want me to wait until you get upstairs? You can control the ADT alarm up there?” Ivan asked.

  “Yes. My keys?” Ivan put them into her hands. “It’s all right. You can leave now. I will lock up.”

  The two officers left through the garage then watched while she dropped the rolling garage door. First things first. Annie fed the cat.

  She locked the kitchen-garage fire door. Walked over and locked the patio door to the back yard. Turned off TV and lights, felt her way to the stairs and that light switch, climbed very slowly, clutching her bottle of diet something, and made it to her bedroom where the alarm panel said Ready. She activated the alarm.

  Somehow, she felt safer and bereft at the same time. This whole day had been a wild adventure. Her normal days were never this terrorizing, exciting, scary, interesting—she ran out of words.

  She made the bed, killed the light after snuggling deep into her comforter.

  The cat joined her on the bed. For once, the cat simply wanted to sleep, resting against her hip. A sort-of furry hot water bottle.

  Sleep. She needed sleep.

  Her female parts needed to calm down already.

  Not like they weren’t used to disappointment.

  Chapter Six

  Walking away from Annie was a difficult effort as jealousy, and common sense vied for control. She wasn’t in his league. She could do so much better.

  Troy grinned ear-to-ear, slapped Ivan on the back, and barked out a laugh. “Delicious. But now what?”

  “Now? Nothing. First of all, she’s on pain meds no matter how mild. Second, she’s a witness. Third, sharing with you by swapping is not happening. She can tell us apart. You wouldn’t get to first base. In fact, you didn’t.” Ivan wasn’t comfortable with even thinking about Troy and this woman. Annie. She had said to call her Annie, but he already thought of her as the woman.

  “Meanwhile, you were Jonesing over there,” Troy replied. “Thought you’d pop your zipper.”

  “Shut up. She’s in no condition for that.” And she wasn’t. She wasn’t in condition for anything. Not that his body was listening.

  “So? Because I was getting vibes. Love to peek under those clothes.” He waggled his eyebrows. He’d almost had his wish. The pins were not doing a very good job.

  “Knock it off, Troy. I mean it. Vibes would be an understatement. Yeah. She’s caught my attention. Big time. I got kicked in the gut. There’s just too much shit going down right now. And she’s drugged, like I said. It’s a nasty wound even if shallow. ”

  “Seriously, she caught my attention, too, Troy continued. “Sorry. Hell, I don’t even know how to act serious. Been a long time. I am still a little shocked. We nearly lost our little bro there. All that chaos. All that adrenaline. And now, all that woman. She really saved him. I’m dying to know where she got trained. There’s a story there.”

  Ivan slid into the passenger seat of the cruiser. Troy hadn’t been serious about anyone since his wife had walked out, leaving behind a tiny newborn. Ivan hadn’t been serious since his abandonment at the altar. Troy was right. There was too much going on. He needed to go slow. He didn’t want to mess this up. He wanted...well. Right now he’d better decide not to think about what he wanted.

  What he needed was to get back to his truck, pick up some food, and decide what to do for the evening after he finished all the looming paperwork looming. It might have been put on the computer, but the work was the same. Paperwork was the moniker still stuck in everyone’s mind. It would take another generation of cops to rename the mess.

  Troy took off with a fast U-turn, cranking the wheel hard over and gunning the gas. He wore out more brake pads and tires on a squad than anyone else. Another difference between them.

  Over the years, they had spotted little things. Small differences. But most people had no clue which twin they were talking to at any given time. In the softer lights on a date night, they were constantly misidentified.

  Brass usually called them in as a matched set. Then barked different orders, watching to see who did what. They had signed a pledge not to ever switch places while on the job. So far, they had never violated that. Never.

  “How’s Bobby?” Ivan asked to get himself and Troy refocused.

  “He’s out of surgery and doing well. Called me earlier, groggy, and asked for a burger.”

  “Too soon after surgery. Take him a smoothie.”

  “He’d shoot me,” Troy answered.

  Ivan thought that was a possibility. Bobby wasn’t best pleased at getting shot. “He’d barf up the burger.” Which thought took the idea of having a burger and fries for dinner right off his list. Pizza it is.

  He refrained from discussing the woman. His mind, however, was painting some pretty lurid images that served to encourage his randy dick in its demands to be satisfied. Picturing her naked. Under him. Over him. His dick down her throat. His mouth on her while she screamed her release.

  He wondered if she would scream. He was a skilled lover. Oh yes. She’d scream. Did she like riding? How about on her knees while he pumped his cock into her from behind? Would she suck his balls? Lick the cum and her own juices from his cock?

  By the time they pulled up to the police lot where his truck was stashed, he was hard as a rock and would have trouble walking. Limping. He would be seriously limping. He was also feeling very warm.

  He forced other images into his head. Adjusted his package, which he had done too many times since the incident, and made it into the building to start the debriefing. He was not happy about it.

  Troy had gone to turn in his cruiser and check himself out of the building. The lucky dog had already filed his reports, enabling his escape.

  Not a problem. Troy had no key to her house. Troy did not know her ADT code. Troy had better not acquire either. Not until Ivan ever talked her into a threesome. He was far more interested in a twosome at the moment. That was also a change.

  Ivan trusted that the message he had sent had been received by his twin. She is mine. If she wanted him, that
is. If she was willing, they could discuss other arrangements, later. Much later.

  Damn. She had him turned inside out.

  They hadn’t even kissed.

  He shouldn’t have let his mind go there.

  It seemed ready to resume flashing erotic images.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  He knew better. Adrenaline could do weird things mentally. Throw a body off-kilter, chemically flooded, making him start getting ideas he shouldn’t get. He knew to delay any decisions.

  With an exhale that sounded even to his ears like pure exhaustion, he returned to the paperwork. Focused. Sipped cold coffee.

  If the image of those eyes of hers reappeared, or his hands started to replay the limited contact he had exposed them to, he would do his best to stay focused on the job.

  Later.

  Yeah, and later those same images will come dancing right back into my head.

  Chapter Seven

  Four days after the “incident” as she thought of it, complete with quotes, Annie awoke to the smell of coffee.

  What the fuck?

  Who was making coffee in her secure house? She had locked up. She knew she had. It was an unvarying ritual.

  Running—or what passed for running in her condition—to the ADT panel, she saw it was off. The little tiny panel said Ready. No red light was on. She checked the clock. Morning. The sun peeped over the storage shed. She stepped into slip-ons. Grabbed her robe. Made short work of the bathroom.

  Had to be one of the cops. Had to be. Only reason she hadn’t hit the panic Call the cops button on the panel. No point. If it was a cop, he was already here.

  Grabbing the handrail, wincing at the pain in her arm from the sudden movement, she tried not to fall head first down the stairs. Forced her body to take one step at a time. Forced her body to breathe. Legs and a backside encased in uniform pants came into view as she descended.

  Yep. That backside. She’d know it anywhere. She could see it in her kitchen. Well, they both had that backside. Blessings of genetics.

  “How did you get in?” she said as soon as she reached ground zero.

  “Good morning to you, too. I brought you decaf café mocha. And a slice of high-calorie cinnamon bread.”

  “Ivan.” Yes. It was him. Not Troy. She was certain. Not that Troy wouldn’t be welcome. “You have invaded my space. Answer the question.” She was crabby before coffee. She knew that. She was feeling very crabby at the moment. Excessively crabby. Okay. PMS-style crabby. Her arm made her wince.

  “I had a copy of the house key made. I watched you key in your security code. I even know how many seconds I have. I did relock the garage.”

  “Audacious.” She wasn’t sure if she should be angry at the presumption or delighted he was interested. Parts of her were declaring that they were just fine with him crossing the Rubicon as it were to get to her. She was trying to ignore those parts.

  “I have been charged with seeing that you come in and make a statement sometime this afternoon. I thought I’d check on you in general.”

  Like a slap in the face. He was interested in a statement and not her body. She felt deflated. “Bull pucky. The police department hasn’t got a big enough budget for all that.” Now she was really crabby.

  “No. But, I have lots of time off I can use. You’re too young for the community senior patrol to come by on a well-being check.”

  “The volunteers that make sure if you died overnight, the dogs and cats would be rescued before they decided you were food?” she asked with a slightly saccharine tone. At least—it was her best imitation of one. She couldn’t remember if she should bat her eyelashes. Without her black-as-coal mascara on, he probably wouldn’t notice.

  “Yes. Those guys.” The man was smiling. A smile that made her teeth rattle. A smile that caused all sorts of responses from her sex-deprived body parts. He knew damn well she was reacting to him. Damn.

  “And your shadow?” Because in this groggy state, she wasn’t sure she would remain sensible if both of them showed up. Good God Almighty! From starvation to gluttony in the blink of an eye. Because troublemaker number two was a sexy, handsome hunk in his own right.

  “Elsewhere. You are wincing. Pain pill?”

  “Not yet. Okay. Maybe. But I will only take a half pill. Doctors always overprescribe. I don’t want to get addicted. I am already addicted to fat, sugar, coffee—” Her hand waving included the stash of mini candy bars in a storage container. Not hidden. Proudly on display. Because she had no willpower. None at all. Not when it came to chocolate. Sugar. Fat. She needed a candy rehab.

  God, but he looked good. Crisp uniform. Dark hair just long enough. Newly shaved. Neat as a pin. She was suffering from bedhead since she had skipped the curlers that allowed her to control the mop she called hair. Her PJs were a size or two larger than she was. She liked them loose. She was lucky the pants were staying up. In short, she was a clothing layer short of a bag lady.

  Annie rather thought it was age that did that to a woman, not money. Comfort became the goal. She was so done with three-piece suits.

  Let’s not forget my slip-ons, with the big coffee stain in the center of the right shoe matching the stain on my PJs over my right boob. I am bra-less and perky.

  She needed to wash her slip-ons, by hand, in the sink. Later. Always later. She edged to the counter by the sink in question, grabbed the pain pill bottle, wrestled it open, cut a pill in half with a steak knife, and swallowed it with a sip or two of water. “Done,” she told him.

  He hadn’t moved far, just enough to let her reach the faucet. He was in her personal space. He knew that. He was so large he’d be in her personal space standing across the room. Her female parts jumped to full alert. Actually, she had finally noticed their condition. She was sure they had been on alert at the first sight of his backside.

  She took the coffee from him, sipped, and realized he also knew how many packets of sweetener she liked in a grande. Observant. She would grant him that.

  “Cinnamon?” She eyed the bread slice. Little. Harmless. Ha! Not with a whopping three to four hundred calories.

  “With more calories then God intended. Secret ingredient,” he answered as if he had read her mind. Was that a twinkle in his lovely blue eyes? A slight crease at the side of that mouth? A mouth with those beautiful, sexy, chiseled lips.

  Lips she was picturing doing things to her. A whole bunch of things. She wondered if he would. He seemed amused by her condition.

  “Sugar and shortening,” she nodded as she took a bite. “Perfect. I am starved.” She stubbornly stayed right where she was, finished the slice of early morning calories with alternating sips of coffee.

  He was finishing his. He was a neat person. She was wearing a few crumbs and knew she had a coffee ring on her upper lip since she had peeled off the travel cap. She grabbed a dishtowel and scrubbed her face and hands.

  “Delicious. Thank you.” She looked up into those eyes. Eyes that were focused right on her. There was something else in those eyes now. Not Amusement. Lust. Desire.

  More like a predator spotting its prey.

  He was somehow closer. In front of her. Both his hands went out to rest on the counter, one on each side, effectively penning her in place. Then he was leaning in, and those chiseled lovely lips of his brushed hers. A jolt raced through her system. Lightening strike. Gone in a flash.

  “Cinnamon,” he said, his voice a low husky whisper that set off those tingly pieces.

  He was still there, close, just not touching her. She had been right. His eyes were not laughing. They were hot with a different look.

  Holy cow!

  She blinked. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her. The poster child for being a recluse. Whose body parts had been neglected even by her battery-powered toys. Her body had opened itself up in high expectation. Her panties, and thank God she was wearing them, were wet. Her lips felt abandoned. She wanted those lips to land back on hers. She wanted those lips to land on a few othe
r places.

  “You can say no. Anytime,” he said in a husky I want to do things to you sort of whisper. She felt it as a caress up and down her spine as much as she heard his words. No? How about yes? Was he coming closer? Yes, he was.

  His lips settled on hers again, slid across hers and pressed harder while his tongue started licking at the seam of her lips, teasing her to open. She did, felt his tongue dip into her mouth and caress her, tease her, and get all tangled up in her. She sucked at it, let her tongue slide over his, and had herself panting.

  He raised his head. His breathing was affected, too.

  “You are all covered in stuff. Way too much stuff. How do I...” She tried to ask where she could put her hands with all that gear he wore, but didn’t know how to phrase that question. Her brain screamed strumpet! She looked up to meet his eyes. His mesmerizing eyes. She ignored her brain.

  “Just ask. Tell me, Annie. Tell me you want what I want. My mouth on your pussy. My mouth tasting you. My cock inside you. Coated in your fluids. You thrashing on the sheets while I make you come, over and over. Until you can’t scream any more. My cock shoved down your pretty throat while you suck me dry. Tell me what you want.”

  His face was darker, his jaw pulsed, and the veins in his neck stood up. She could imagine the veins on his cock were just as engorged. For her. All for her. Mother of God.

  “All of it. I want all of it,” she whispered back. Her voice had fled. Her limbs were trembling. Oh my God. He was offering a sex romp like she dreamed of after a good romance novel read and a glass of wine. No. Something better then she had ever imagined. Every part of her body he had mentioned came alive.

  Her body had flung open its doors in welcome. Oh God, she wanted everything he had mentioned. Her folds were swollen already and soaked. She was ready to welcome any part of him he wanted to put in there. Mouth. Fingers. Cock. She wanted it all. In any order he wanted. She was thrumming just thinking about it.