Badge Boys Page 7

  Voyeurism had never been her thing. But then, neither had almost everything she had just done upstairs. Dreamed about it, yes. Well, she’d had a couple of nice encounters, but nothing like that! She had come hard enough to rattle her teeth. More than once. She never came more than once.

  Ivan bandaged her arm with swift and sure hands. She rather loved what those hands had done to her body. Tweaking her nipples. Stroking her swollen flesh. Grabbing her ass and pulling her in closer.

  She quickly thought of something else before the heat crept all the way up her face.

  “There,” Ivan said. “Good as new. Finish your breakfast and pack up.” He ran a finger down her nose.

  “What about an attorney?” she asked as she put her clothing back together. The wet spot on the tunic from her bandage would dry. Low humidity was useful. Sometimes.

  “Will be waiting at the station.”

  “Does it take two cops to be sure I arrive?” she asked no one in particular.

  “No. But Troy has an errand or two up here and he’s about to be leaving.”

  “Ah.” Annie didn’t believe that for a moment, but as long as he left...

  Troy took the hint, grabbed his coffee, a second sandwich, and did just that, jauntily saluting Ivan as he did so.

  “He means well,” Ivan told her. “He’s young.” Packing up his sandwich after taking a couple of bites, he grabbed his own coffee and drained it.

  She snorted into her decaf. “Sure he does.” They had brought her decaf. She wrinkled her nose. Decaf was not what she wanted.

  Ivan quietly set a can of espresso on the counter.

  Did these guys ever miss anything? A shot of espresso in the morning and decaf all day were her ritual. Had she mentioned that at some point?

  She wanted her espresso but not at the moment. She stuck the can in her purse. If she was stuck in the station for any length of time, she would need this later. She packed up her own two sandwiches. She’d eat in the car.

  Troy was a handful, but so was Ivan. Did she really think she belonged with either? What would she do with both? The idea thrilled her. Were they into that?

  What she did instead of scolding herself for having such high ambitions, was check out the cop who remained. Yep. She liked every damn inch. In fact, if they weren’t committed to meeting a lawyer and giving a statement, she’d be talking him out of his clothing. She wasn’t done memorizing his body.

  Annie was still watching him when he slid behind the wheel after settling her in his passenger seat. A cop with a heavy equipment belt sliding into a cruiser was a sight to behold. Those pants had to have a little spandex in them. They stretched so lovingly over that rather attractive backside. Not to mention fitting snuggly over those incredible thighs. Thighs she was now so intimately acquainted with.

  She was also aware that in spite of her efforts to relieve the pressure, he was sporting another erection.

  She needed to sit on her hands. She’d reach over and stroke it if she didn’t.

  Not the thing. Not the thing at all.

  He was so carefully focused on driving. Dash cam? Body cam? How did those work?

  Looking out the window, she nearly yelped as she felt his right hand trail up her left thigh. Felt his fingers cup her and stroke her right where she needed it. The hand retracted.

  “Later,” he whispered.

  Great. She’d be a mess all day, waiting for that.

  Annie still didn’t have the courage to stroke his cock, pressed against the uniform pant fabric so lovingly. She had no problem staring at it, causing him to wriggle in his seat.

  Two could play this game. She smirked.

  Just a few hours ago, this Adonis had been naked on her bed. And she had been...

  They had arrived and were pulling into the police lot. She was going to blush if she didn’t get her imagination under control.

  She could attribute some of this to the shock and the meds. She never did well on any medication that messed with her mind.

  Not true. You only took a half pill, and it hadn’t even reached your stomach. Face it. You are a sex-mad strumpet.

  She squared her shoulders. She could do this.

  “An attorney is here? For me?” she asked, hoping her voice was steady.

  “Least we could do. You saved Bobby’s life.”

  “We?”

  “Troy and I share everything.”

  Oh, wow. Did he mean to send her that message? Really? She felt herself get even more excited.

  “Everything? Really? I’d like to know how that works.”

  She got out of the car quickly before he could reply. Ivan’s jaw was hanging open.

  One point for her.

  Chapter Ten

  When they had arrived at the police station, it had been arranged that Annie would walk in for her statement with the attorney brought down for her. Ivan had played least in sight. Troy was—where?

  The investigators asked if she had known any of the first responders before the shooting.

  She could honestly say no.

  She waited to see if they asked if she knew them now. Because if they did, she’d blush scarlet. She’d rival Rudolph. She could guide the sleigh. Then they would know. She didn’t want anyone to know. Not yet.

  Images of Ivan standing over her in all his naked, male glory flashed into her brain. She forced herself think about other topics.

  She answered their questions. Was as cooperative as her lawyer wished her to be. She also mentioned things that she wasn’t pleased with.

  No, she hadn’t set up a ride along. Not recently. And her ride along before had been with a female cop.

  No, she hadn’t shown up to the Tip-a-Cop charity functions in months. She mentioned that she had met the famous Chopper, a Boston terrier with his own motorcycle and biker vest.

  Yes, she had attended a Citizen’s Academy just not here. Budget cuts had eliminated the Citizen’s Academy in San Diego, at least for now. She said she was disappointed about that.

  Frustrated at the lack of ability to do research, she was glad now that she had been running under their radar. People knew her up North. She’d never have gotten away with what she had done today. Of course, the opportunity to be naughty before this had never arisen.

  Yes, she was that writer when they asked, and yes, she wrote hot cops, hot firemen, and hot vampires. The investigators had honed in on that. Why, she wondered. What did being a romance writer have to do with defending herself from a deranged gunman? She thought, why did they even ask?

  They wanted to know if she owned a gun. She felt they should have known that since it was registered.

  How had she become so good with a gun? Well, she really had no idea. Practice?

  It was that little event called nine-eleven. Like hundreds of other women, she had raced to the nearest gun store, took a class, got a license, bought a gun, all properly registered and all, and no, she doesn’t shoot regularly. But she had practiced. She does try to get out once a year. They didn’t need to know about her childhood. They were interested in recent events.

  She should go more often, but the price of bullets had gone up. Yes, she knew she should practice more often. Yes, she had shot several calibers of weapons. Yes, she had fired a Sig .40 before. Yes, she knew how to work a laser sight, although her personal gun didn’t have one. She had fired a police side arm and a patrol rifle under supervision of a cop. She didn’t mention that.

  The attorney was good.

  After what seemed like a few days instead of a few hours, she was done.

  So was her can of espresso.

  Jumpy and twitching from the caffeine, she was delivered back to the parking lot by said attorney who now shook her hand, congratulated her, and walked to his car.

  Annie wondered what she needed to do now. Wait? She fumbled around in her purse.

  The ride downtown after the morning’s rather slutty adventure, that downright silly and delicious shower, then behaving for hours in a meeti
ng acting like a prim and proper lady, which she normally thought that she was, well, it was nerve-wracking.

  Ivan hadn’t helped her in her highly adrenaline-fueled, sexual state. That sneaky hand cupping her while driving to the meeting... She could still feel his touch. Ghost hand. Damn!

  Between pain pills and flight or fight response to being embedded in a police building, never mind sitting in the conference room for hours, she was a walking wreck. She should be too exhausted to be turned on. No such luck.

  She had just spent hours suppressing her damn photographic memory that wanted to play back everything that had happened at the hotel. Everything. It had to be forced to replay just the gun battle.

  Even her obvious attraction to Troy had popped in and out of her mind while she was trying her best to be accurate about the description of the assailants.

  Curiosity about Troy had her almost hopping around in her seat. She had restrained herself. Her ADHD was not being helpful. Fueled by too much caffeine, ADHD could be a bitch.

  There were just so many things she wanted to ask. She was bubbling over with curiosity.

  Twins. Did they? Would she?

  She didn’t even know how to ask that question. She had watched Troy and Ivan closely. They really did communicate with their own language. Eye contact. An eyebrow raised. A smile. A nod. A hand gesture. A nod. A vocabulary all their own. She was surprised they needed to text at all.

  She had seen more than they had guessed. She envied their closeness.

  Ivan had been a surprise. Out of nowhere. Into her bed. Barely a hello between them. If you ignored him catching her when she fell. His care of her while going to and coming home from the hospital. His bringing her breakfast. Of course, there was the fact he had a duplicate key to her house and knew her security code. She needed to think about his possessive attitude to her paying attention to Troy.

  Jealousy? They had something special. She had heard a lot about twins and their close bonds and she didn’t want to be the cause of friction between them. She also didn’t want to lose Ivan.

  How crazy had she been? Wild sex with a stranger? Because he was that. A stranger.

  She’d never behaved like that. Ever. She had never wanted to act like that. No one had set her on fire like he had. Indifferent lovers, that was the description of her previous love life and her marriage. In Ivan’s case, the way he paid attention her needs, the way he let himself enjoy her touch without impatiently demanding she do this or that, was liberation. She had never enjoyed making a man come apart as she had enjoyed Ivan.

  Annie would not allow herself to think of this as more than sex. Too soon. But there was a little niggle in her busy brain that said possible and that idea was not unpleasant. She would not let that idea have wings. Not yet. She refused to be that woman who gets laid and starts shopping for a wedding dress.

  Of course, now she wanted to drag him right back up the stairs to her bed, strip him down naked, and do everything all over again. Did he? Want to do it again?

  If the hard-on he’d sported on the way downtown was any indication, oh yes, he was.

  She was literally sporting the female equivalent of a hard-on. Her panties were wet. Her breasts were swollen.

  What had she been thinking to let him look at her that way? Where had little miss modesty gone? Splayed open with nothing hidden from view. When had she ever been that comfortable with a man looking at her that intimately? Not even with her doctor. Allowed someone to take her with his mouth? Never, ever, ever. Now she couldn’t wait until he did it again. Her body was taut with anticipation of just that.

  She wanted him. Every damn inch. She wanted his cock in her mouth. She wanted to fondle his balls. She wanted him shoved as deep inside her as he could get. As soon as possible.

  What the hell had come over her?

  Shock?

  Or, was it just realizing that life was short? Life could end in a moment? Life had nearly ended. That bullet could have been just a little farther to the side, and she’d have joined the officer on the floor. She had been—terrified. Her brain had sought recovery.

  There is so much I haven’t done yet.

  Wild sex with a stranger. Check that off the bucket list.

  What if he really wanted her to take them both at once? Could she even think of doing that? Was that even on her list? Apparently, her body was signaling that it was.

  Wow. A near-death experience can turn your world upside down. Who knew?

  Troy was different. And not. A little cheekier. Just as gorgeous. Handsome. Caring. Ivan was the more focused, serious one. But she had seen them both serious at the crime scene. No. They were ninety-nine percent identical if not more.

  Could she do that?

  Should she do that?

  She wanted to do that. Where did that come from?

  Troy didn’t elicit the same physical response as Ivan, but could he? She hadn’t let herself acknowledge that she had, in fact, responded to him. She had fought it. She had been shocked that it could happen. What if she didn’t fight it?

  What would it be like? Four hands. Two mouths. Two hard-ons. Oh Lord! Her imagination ran wild.

  Annie was done with the incident, as she called it. No more questions. Statement made. Was told she wasn’t going to face any charges. She had saved a cop. Saved herself. Saved who could say how many people. She was labeled a hero by one wit. Her shooting would be ruled as self-defense. She had known that from the start. Had the cops had put a bit of pressure on the DA’s office? Maybe not. The penal code was fairly clear on those things. She would let the pros handle things.

  She thought it might be months before she would dare to attend another writer’s meeting. She wasn’t even sure they would hold one next month. It was too much trauma for anyone to deal with. She wasn’t dealing with it yet. She had parked it somewhere in the back of her brain to be dragged out and thought about when the dust had settled. Today had been like picking at a scab. She resented that even as she acknowledged that it was a necessary part of the process.

  The incident was already the topic of the news programs, twenty-four seven. It was a B-roll. She was a B-roll. The video they trotted out on the news whenever they needed a time filler.

  Of course, as a writer, she should be pleased that they had mentioned her penname. One station went so far as to throw up a backdrop with a bunch of her book covers. Well, she couldn’t resent that. If this resulted in a few more sales, more royalties, and a larger audience for her books, who was she to complain? Accidental, priceless publicity. Horrifying publicity.

  What did they say? Say anything you want about me, just spell my name right. Okay. In this case, spell her penname right.

  She refused interviews. Considered changing her phone number. They had her email.

  Not on pain meds! She would need to be coherent. Prepared. She was none of those things. Not because of the pills, but she couldn’t very well tell them the real reason that was that she planned to spend most of her down time picturing two men in her bed making love to her at the same time. Yep. Pain pills. Blame it on the pain pills. She would enjoy this hyper state while it lasted.

  She’d be off the pills soon since she had already stretched out the dose window. She’d have to think up a new excuse to remain the elusive interview. The incident needed to be closed.

  Curiosity roused, Annie decided to do more research on twins...

  Chapter Eleven

  Just as Annie was starting to be more than a little anxious about getting home, checking her watch every minute, pacing up and down the sidewalk, a cruiser pulled up, and one of the twins invited her to get in. Convenient.

  “Troy,” she said as she settled into the passenger seat of the shiny new SUV. She was a little surprised. And not. She pulled the door shut, dropped her stuff on the floor, and grabbed the seat belt.

  “How do you do that?” he asked, looking as shocked as he had been last time.

  “I have no idea. I just know.” She hadn’t though
t about it. It was just—there. She simply knew.

  “Ivan is on a call. I was just coming back from ferrying Bobby home. His girlfriend is splits-ville to the delight of all I believe.”

  “Including Bobby?”

  “Actually, surprisingly, yes.”

  “Shouldn’t someone be with him?” Didn’t he just have surgery on his leg? What if he fell?

  “Don’t worry. My mother is there. Trust me. I’d rather be scarce.”

  Annie laughed at the idea that any woman intimidated this hunk of gorgeous alpha male. “A hover-mother?” Because she’d probably have to meet this woman, if she kept taking Ivan to her bedroom that is. She didn’t think that what they had was going away anytime soon, if ever. Yeah. This thing wasn’t a temporary crush. She had him bad. Really bad.

  “Big-time, hover-mother,” Troy commented. He was also listening to his earpiece. An on-duty cop had weird conversation skills. Long delays. Missed responses. She settled back.

  He was so much like Ivan and yet. Just a tad off. Just a tad different. It was instinctive to her. What she did note was that her body did not differentiate. Only her mind did, trying to hang onto the one on one image of classical relationships. His lips were just as beautifully sculptured. His thighs still stretched that uniform pant leg. His eyes still sparkled, if that was valid. They both had startling beautiful eyes. Expressive eyes. Eyes that were constantly caressing her. At least, it felt like it.

  She was getting turned on sitting beside him. Was that because he was the perfect carbon copy of Ivan?

  What would happen if he reached over and touched her? She’d be doomed.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Now, I play the Good Samaritan and take you back to your house and let you get some rest. No charges, right?”

  “No charges. Doesn’t mean there aren’t aftershocks. I doubt my writer’s group will be happy to see me right away. I did make a mess of their meeting room. Although I wasn’t the one who started it.”