Crushing on the Cop Read online

  I almost suffocate him, pressing him into my flesh because it’s been way too long. He doesn’t seem half as eager as me. Although, if he fondles and sucks my breasts for the entire night I’d call it a win.

  I rock my hips forward and the glorious friction of his erection sends me into overdrive.

  The thought I won’t have him inside of me tonight is depressing but not enough to stop our heavy make-out session. Grabbing at the hem of his hoodie, I pull it up and his mouth pops off my breast, helping me strip it off him.

  My fingers graze down his abs. One day I will lick his stomach, I swear.

  I strip off my sweater but leave my cami on mostly because Cristian’s mouth and hands are back at me. I arch back, the steering wheel pressing into my back and I close my eyes loving the feel of him.

  His knuckles run down my ribcage and he slides his hand under the waistband of my leggings.

  “Fucking perfection.” He doesn’t hesitate but runs his finger under the edge of my underwear before his palm is flat between my legs, his fingers teasing my opening. “You want to ride my hand or my cock?”

  Is this a trick question? Is he going to punish me if I say cock because I really want the cock even if his hand feels amazing.

  “Cock,” I whisper, always one to push the boundaries.

  Our lips collide, our tongues sliding against each other’s until he pulls away from the kiss. “Take me out then.” There’s a teasing note in his voice.

  Before he can change his mind, I unbuckle his belt and open up his jeans. His hard length springs out ready to play. Well, hello there big guy. The feeling is mutual.

  His hand leaves my wet, warm center but only to pull my leggings down. We wiggle and shift until they’re at my ankles. Since I have boots on, they aren’t coming off.

  Christian shifts the seat so he’s more upright and I try to fight him because he’ll never get fully inside of me like this. We manage to shrug his jeans down to his knees and I climb back up to be met with the glorious feeling of his dick sliding through my folds.

  “I can’t wait.” I take his dick in my hand, ready to slide it into me. “Where are your condoms?” I shift to look in the glove box, but Cristian’s hand slides behind my head and brings me down for a kiss.

  He lifts his hips, the tip of his dick right against my clit.

  I whimper and fall forward, my hands gripping his strong shoulders.

  “Cris,” I pant.

  I’m so wet that he’s able to continue sliding up and down, putting more and more pressure on my clit. He doesn’t stop there, he pulls me forward and takes one of my breasts in his mouth while his two hands on my ass spread my cheeks apart as I slide along his rigid, slick cock.

  I’m speechless and the only sound in the car is the panting and mumbles of incoherent words as he catapults me into the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had without intercourse.

  My entire body stiffens as I cry out and my head falls to his shoulder, the weight of it too heavy to hold up.

  Cristian cradles me to his body, but one thing I don’t miss is the fact he didn’t come. Which thank fucking God because if he had, we might be screwed. I’m probably the only girl I know not on the pill or with an IUD inside of me.

  When I catch my breath, I wordlessly cross over the console again, lifting my ass to pull up my underwear and leggings. Cristian must think we’re done because he pulls up his pants and reaches into the back seat for his sweatshirt. As he’s buttoning up his pants, I place my hand over his.

  “You didn’t think I was one not to reciprocate, did you?” I bend forward, smelling myself on him.

  “You don’t have to.” He shifts in his seat.

  “I know.” My finger runs up the length of his shaft.

  He arches off the seat and his eyes darken while he watches me with a gaze so intense I almost have to look away.

  Wrapping my fist around his length, I use my other hand to slide my hair off my shoulder so he has a direct line of vision to what I’m about to do to him.

  “As much as I can’t wait to have this inside of me.” I pump my fist up and down. “My mouth has been dying to be filled with your cock.”

  The darkening of his eyes turns sinister.

  Wrapping my mouth over the tip, the saltiness of his pre-cum spreads across my tongue. My one hand continues moving up and down, and I start slow because I want him to remember this for reasons I’m still not sure of.

  His hand reaches under me, kneading my breast. He murmurs praise of how good I am at this and how he’s barely able to hold off. Going deeper, the tip hits the back of my throat and his hands shift from my breasts to my hair.

  “Fuck…Van…shit.”

  There’s nothing better than when a man can’t form full sentences. The more swear words, the better.

  I come up and then back down, deep throating him, and he starts raising his hips up off the seat, thrusting his cock into my mouth.

  “Don’t stop,” he groans.

  Like I would.

  I increase my pressure and my suction, and that does the trick. His hands unwind from my hair and he raises his arms grabbing the back of the headrest. “I’m coming, Van. Like right fucking now.”

  I understand his warning, but I’m not stopping now. Not that I mind a mess, but I want to give Cristian the full experience. I want it to be what’s ingrained in his brain whenever he thinks about getting a blow job when he’s jerking off.

  The hot liquid squirts into my mouth and I swallow it down as his cock jerks a few times. I keep pumping until every last drop is out, lick him clean, and look up to meet his gaze.

  He brushes his hand across my cheek, his thumb running along my bottom lip. “I think I blacked out.”

  I smile and make my way up to his mouth. Some guys hate to kiss after you go down on them, but I suspect…he crashes his lips to mine, holding the back of my head to keep me pressed to him. His tongue doesn’t ask for entrance but takes it like I’m his. Which I kind of like, I realize. There’s so much passion in our kiss that I can almost visualize us stepping over that line from ‘I’m not sure what we are’ to ‘we’re in a relationship.’

  I’ve had sex with more partners than I care to admit, but I’ve never felt like I was claimed and taken care of all at once. Like he stamped me with his name and I stamped him with mine. That’s exactly what it feels like in this car in the middle of a now deserted parking lot. Me and Cristian…the question is, can there be a happily ever after?

  No.

  Not until I tell him my secret.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Vanessa

  Cristian and I took the train to the lake for the race because parking down there is astronomical and he wants to show me somewhere after.

  “You ready?” Cristian stretches his leg, holding on to a tree and I watch him surprised at my own calm in his vicinity.

  Up until Thursday night, I’d be jittery and anxious when he’d be within twenty feet of me. I’m not sure if it’s how open he is with me, or what went down in his car, but things are simpler between us. He hasn’t really touched me at all today, but I know some people don’t like PDA. It’s not like I want us halfway to sex on a public bench, but I do enjoy his arm around me and the odd kiss.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  We both sport our pink shirts with numbers on the front.

  “Love the medals,” he comments to a volunteer hanging the gold donuts by a ribbon near the finish line.

  “The donut and coffee is the real prize,” I say.

  My mouth waters for the sweetness. Cristian’s been in charge of my diet for the last few days which has left my stomach empty and my taste buds demanding compensation—in the form of sugar.

  “I bet you can’t wait to get yours.” He smiles the one he usually gives before he pulls me into him or kisses me senseless. Right before he reaches me, he glances over my shoulder and his smile falls.

  There’s a clear shift in the carefree air and it’
s not the wind off the lake.

  “What is it?” I turn around to see what he’s looking at and my mouth drops.

  What is going on?

  “You didn’t know?” Cristian asks.

  His hands clasp my shoulders as a giant banner plastered with my mom’s picture is carried by two men over to a small podium. Before every race, a representative from the organization talks about the food depository and all the money donated that year. So why the heck is my mom, who died so long ago all bright-eyed and smiley-faced on the banner?

  “No,” I whisper.

  I turn to face him. “How did you know that was her?”

  He smiles and gives me a look that says he knows me better than I think he does. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re her. She’s you. Looking at her is like staring at you.”

  It’s true, I am her mini-me. Especially when the older version dies too young. I’ve seen the anguish in my dad’s eyes when he’s looked at me more than once.

  “I just don’t understand,” I say, dumbfounded.

  Cristian being taller than most people here, spots something over my shoulder…again.

  “I’m thinking he can probably explain.” Palming my shoulders, he twists me back around and sure enough, my dad and Vicki are approaching us.

  My dad’s always remained fit. He runs on a consistent basis and his diet is as bland as Cristian’s. Vicki is in a pair of tight workout pants and her own pink t-shirt. She has one of those cute elastic headbands that never seem to stay on my head. A sweatshirt is tied around her waist and I realize for the first time how beautiful she really is. I’m impressed my dad scored her.

  “Vanessa. Cristian.” My dad wraps his arms around my shoulders. “What a beautiful day. It’s like she’s shining down on us.”

  Wha…What?

  My dad doesn’t talk about my mom…like ever. When I was actually in shape and able to run the entire race with him, we didn’t talk about the reason we were here. We came, we ran, we ate donuts, and we left. I’d hide away in my room for the rest of the day and he’d go in the garage and build some new piece of furniture with uneven legs.

  He releases me and Vicki tentatively smiles and leans in giving me a half-hearted hug.

  “I guess we’re the newbies today, Vicki.” Cristian tries to bring humor to our tense bubble.

  “How hard can it be to eat a donut?” She laughs.

  I smile, tightly but my lips turn up.

  “What’s with the banner?” I ask, pointing behind him.

  My dad puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me over to the podium. “We’ll be right back,” he calls out over his shoulder.

  Cristian and Vicki’s voices and easy conversation floats behind us until all the noise around me evaporates.

  “Every year I give a big donation in your mom’s name. They reached out to me this year and wanted to single out someone who’s helped the cause so much. The banner was their idea. You know me. I’d rather it all be anonymous, but in making that donation every year, I knew somehow your mom’s name needed to be on it.”

  Tears well in my eyes looking at her picture. I don’t keep a picture of my mom out for anyone to see. My memories of her are tucked away in a box under my bed. In each one, her smile is bright and her face healthy before her illness stole that from her.

  “She was beautiful,” I say.

  My dad rests his arm around my shoulders. “Yes and so are you. I’m a stubborn man, Vanessa. You know this. But when I make a mistake, I own it. It took Vicki coming into my life to show me how I might’ve steered you wrong. We should’ve celebrated her life after we mourned her. I should’ve told you stories about us instead of pretending she never existed. I can’t go back and change what I did, but I never meant to…”

  I lean my head on his shoulder and he looks down at me. Something I don’t think we’ve done since her funeral.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.” He kisses the top of my head.

  “It’s okay.” I break down without warning. Uncontrollable tears fall from my eyes so fast I can’t rein them back in.

  My dad pulls me into him, patting my back. “I wish I could go back and do it differently.”

  “No.” I swipe the tears from my face. “You did your best.”

  I’m not sure I ever believed those four words before today. I felt emotionally abandoned by my father the minute my mom was buried. I didn’t lose one parent that day, but two. Or at least that’s how I felt until this moment.

  “I could have done better.” He wipes a tear from my face. “I told Vicki and I know you’re here with Cristian, but I want to run with you today.”

  “Oh Dad, I’ve been working hard, but I’ll never be able to run the whole race. I’ll have to stop and walk.” My eyes cast down, ashamed.

  His forefinger and thumb grab my chin to force me to look up at him. “I don’t care. I know I’ve pressured you in the past, but I just want to be with my daughter on a day that meant so much to her mother.”

  I step into his arms once more because I don’t think I’ve truly been there since I was eight. Graduation hugs, birthday hugs, parting hugs. We had them, but there were no feeling behind them. If anything, I thought of them only as a step closer to escaping and getting farther away from him.

  Cristian and Vicki head over to us. “Everyone is going to start congregating for the speech. I just wanted to let you know,” Cristian whispers to the both of us and then backtracks.

  A man walks up on stage and talks about Stan’s Donut Run and what it supports. As he’s talking about how much they’ve raised, everyone claps and cheers while I look at my mom’s picture. My dad is right, her light is shining down on us today. I can feel her.

  He says my mom’s name and some kind words about her generosity. The crowd groans when he speaks of her passing nineteen years ago but quickly claps when he talks about my father and the generous donations he’s given in her name ever since. At the end, my father and I walk toward the starting line.

  Cristian comes up alongside me, his lips by my ear. “Vicki told me. So, I’ll see you at the finish line. You’ve got this. Just remember every step you’re closer to snagging a donut. I’ll save you a pumpkin spice.” He kisses my temple, but I grab him by the shirt and pull him back to me.

  His eyes are wide in alarm and he takes a quick glance around, probably looking for my dad.

  “I’d rather think I’m one step closer to you.” I press my lips to his then release him.

  “You call me a buzzkill, but you have the worst timing. You pick right now to be all domineering and, dare I say, sappy?”

  I laugh, glancing at my dad who is hugging Vicki.

  “Yeah. I guess I’m feeling sentimental today. You caught me on an off day.” I wink.

  “I hope we can change it to be more commonplace.”

  I smile because he’s so sweet. This time the nice guy is going to finish first.

  “See you at the end. Kick some ass out there.”

  “Hope you brought your phone because I’m going to be awhile,” I say.

  “I’d wait for you forever.”

  “UGH…the lines. They’re killing me.” I don’t really mean it. I love his openness, though I never would have thought I would.

  “Do I get anything special if I come in first?” He winks.

  “You’re the buzzkill remember?”

  He chuckles, wiggling his arms at his sides like he’s loosening his body. “Not tonight. Buzzkill is clocking out tonight.”

  I bite my lip. Damn, I may just run a little faster to be done with this race.

  The airhorn blows and Cristian takes off with Vicki at his side. My dad and I start running and hordes of people pass us immediately.

  Throughout the race, we talk about all the races that came before this one. When I was just a baby and how he and Mom took turns pushing me. How she tried the baby carrier one year and which was a disaster. Another year I wouldn’t stay in the stroller and they argued
so bad, my mom ran off to finish and left my dad and me to walk. She later apologized. He’s open and if he wasn’t here in the flesh beside me, I’d think it wasn’t him. He lets me dictate the pace and slows to a walk when I need to take a break. We’re about a half mile to the finish line when he mentions the subject I knew would come up sooner or later.

  “So, Cristian, huh?”

  “Yeah. Is it a problem because you’re his commander?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No. There are enough people between us on the line of authority. But a police officer?”

  Flashbacks of me screaming at him in high school about how I’d never marry a police officer because all they’re about is rules and order run through my head. I’m older now and dare I say a little wiser, and I’m learning that not everything is black and white.

  “Funny. I swore them off before him. It’s early though. We haven’t been seeing each other that long.”

  “He’s one of the good ones. His partner’s an asshat who couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag. Cristian though, he’ll treat you good.”

  I step around another participant who’s stopped to catch their breath. “You act like we’re getting married or already got married.”

  Yeah, so I cast that stone his way.

  “While I’m apologizing for everything, let me apologize for that, too. I should have told you before we did it. It was a spur of the moment thing. We’re going to have a reception. I shouldn’t hide her because of what people might think.”

  “Dad, it’s been nineteen years since Mom…”

  So, it might take some more time to completely talk about her openly. It’s still hard to say the words.

  “Yeah, but…” He seems like he wants to tell me more. “I just hope she understands when I get to heaven.”

  I place my hand on his shoulder. “She’d only want you to be happy.”

  He cringes like he’s not so sure. “Do you like Vicki?”

  “She seems nice. I suppose I should be more welcoming to her.”

  “It would mean a lot to me. Come on, let’s jog across the finish line.”

  “I guess it’s the least I can do since you’re accepting Cristian so easily.” I jog alongside of him, using the trays of donuts set up past the finish line as my visual goal.