Arresting Desires (Lexie Sarcone Romance Series) (2 page)

Waking up, my breasts were delightfully sore and still imprisoned by the lace.
Slipping out of the bra, I picked Michael’s t-shirt up off the floor and put it on before settling back against his chest. He brushed a lock of my hair from my face and smiled.

“Hey.
Am I forgiven?” he asked.

“I was never mad at you,” I replied, lazily tracing my finger
along the ridges on his torso and making his muscles tense and jump.

“When you first woke up,” he narrowed his eyes, “you said this wasn’t working.”
He looked worried. “To me, that means you’re mad about something.”

“I just hate that we don’t have much time to spend together.
Oh shit,” I looked at the clock, “aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“
Lexie,” he said patiently, trying to hide the smirk, “I worked a double yesterday. You and I both have today off.” He absently rubbed my back. “I found your dress draped over the kitchen chair. Are you sure you aren’t mad about being stood up?”

“Not anymore.”
I ran my hand along his jaw and kissed him. “After this morning,” my eyes glinted appreciatively, “you’ve clearly made last night up to me. Multiple times.”

“I’m glad.”
He sat up and stretched. “What do you want to do today? Anything you want, just name it.”

“Michael, seriously, it’s fine.
You don’t have to cater to me.” He cocked an eyebrow at me, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you trying to get out of having to do something romantic or special for our first Valentine’s Day?” I accused. He looked guilty, and I scrutinized him. “You are, aren’t you?”

“I would love to take you somewhere and do the whole rose petals, champagne, and chocolates thing, but,” he got off the bed and
went to the drawer, momentarily distracting me with his gorgeous, naked body, “the lieutenant posted the schedules for next week. I’m working.” 

“Big surprise,” I muttered.
It didn’t matter. I wasn’t a sappy romantic, I reminded myself. Valentine’s Day was just one of those holidays that card companies invented to make millions. The chocolate and flower companies were probably in on the scam too. He grabbed some clean clothes and turned back to me. “We could stay in bed all day,” I suggested.

“No,” he insisted.
“All we ever do is sleep next to one another, we’re going out. Hell, your dress is already here.”

“I wasn’t suggesting we sleep,” I corrected, hoping to spend the day talking and making love.

“Don’t
worry, we have all night for that.” He disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard the shower turn on.

Reluctantly getting out of bed, I was sore.
The hazards of mind-blowing sex after weeks of absolutely no action. Finding my extra large purse that contained my normal purse, a change of clothes, and some clean underwear, I retrieved my dress and went into the bathroom. Michael had already showered and was shaving when I entered. Pulling off the shirt, I completely flashed him before stepping into the shower. If Michael wanted to go somewhere fancy, I wasn’t going to rain on his parade.

~*~

“So, did you have fun today?” he asked. It was almost midnight, and we had just gotten into bed.

“Yes.” A million-watt smile erupted on my face.
“How did you manage to get us a private tour at the art gallery?”

“They had a burglary last year.
The owner was distraught. The insurance company needed assurances it wasn’t an inside job before they would agree to pay restitution. The whole thing turned into a huge mess. But, needless to say, I caught the culprit, and the owner wanted to show his gratitude. Today seemed like the right time to cash in on the favor.”

I settled back against the pillow and stared at him.
“You make everything look so easy.” His brow furrowed in confusion. “The job, mostly. Although, I never expected Detective Ruggedly Handsome to be such a sweet and caring boyfriend.”

“Should I be insulted?”

I laughed. “You’re a badass. You wear a leather jacket and carry a gun. You chase after bad guys and could have your choice of badge bunny. I’ve often wondered if I looked up the term ‘bad boy’ if your picture would be there. Hell, Michael, rumor at the station paints you as a wild womanizer.” He snickered, pleased by the assessment. “But for the last three weeks that we’ve been dating, well if we start counting from when we were first intimate, you’ve been nothing accept accommodating and sweet.”

“Good.
My master plan is working and I have you completely fooled.” His eyes smoldered devilishly, and my stomach flipped, wondering what he was thinking. “By the way, Officer Sarcone, there are some rumors running rampant at the station about you too.”

“Rea
lly?” I had heard most of them, but I was still intrigued to hear what Michael was about to say.

“Yes.
Apparently you’re this repressed sexual beast that has an insatiable appetite for ruggedly handsome detectives.” He scooted closer to me. “I’ve also heard that you gave one hell of fucking fantastic blowjob the last time you worked a stakeout.” I blushed. That wasn’t a rumor; that had been animal magnetism between the two of us. “And with a body like that,” he squeezed my ass and pressed himself against me, “you could make any man beg for the opportunity to enter your divine temple.”

“Shut up,” I pushed against his chest, “you jerk.”
The laugh escaped my lips, even if he was being cheesy.

“I thought I was sweet,” he said triumphantly, and I stuck my tongue out.
 

~*~

The next day was back to business as usual. Michael got up that morning for work, and I left at the same time he did so I could spend the rest of the day in my apartment before having to report for duty. My sleep schedule was off, and I knew I was going to need an extra jolt of caffeine to make it through tonight’s tour.

“
Sarcone,” Kemper called as I exited the locker room, “they posted the date for the next detective’s exam. It’s going to be the fourteenth. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he added sarcastically.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do,” I replied
, still miffed about not getting to spend it with Michael. “Are we riding together again tonight?”

“Yep.
After our civilian complaint, I think we’re both on the lieutenant’s shit list.”

“You mean in addition to Detective
Holowitz’s shit list?”

He let out an exasperated sigh.
“Why are there so many haters? Isn’t this the month of love?”

“I think
it’s heart disease awareness month. That doesn’t equal love.”

“That’s cold.
Aren’t you supposed to be all mushy and romantic? You’ve got a vagina, don’t you?”

I gaped at him
, not expecting anything that vulgar from someone I considered a friend. “Wow.” My jaw dropped open. “You fucking piece of shit,” I retorted, stunned. “Sexist much?”

“Whoa, hey,” he put his hands up in surrender, realizing he had crossed a line, “I was just messing with you.
It was a joke.”

“Whatever,” I bristled, pissed by the comment.
The dirtbags on the street didn’t respect me, and it seemed like most of the men at the precinct didn’t either. “And I’m driving tonight,” I snarled.

That night
, we responded to a snatch and grab at a convenience store. A group of three men had entered the store. Two of them went to the beer fridge and began smashing bottles, distracting the owner. While he was busy confronting the two, the third man had gone behind the counter and cleaned out the register. At least it wasn’t armed robbery.

“Sir, are there any additional details you can recall?” I as
ked. He was an elderly gentleman in his sixties. He shook his head, annoyed with himself. “What about the surveillance camera?” I pointed to the camera posted above the register. Kemper was investigating the broken beer bottles and the rest of the store for any evidence like torn clothing or shoe prints.

“It doesn’t work.
The power cord is faulty, but I haven’t gotten around to buying a new one.” The owner looked even more glum. “Guess there’s no need anymore.”

“Sir, would you like to come down to the station in the morning and talk to a sketch artist?
Maybe they can make a composite and we can find the criminals.”

“Hooligans.
Little snot-nosed wannabe gangbangers is what they were.” He was getting worked up. “They wanted to be thugs, wearing chains and those baggy pants that show their butt cracks. Dumbass kids.”

“We’ll file a report.
You can pick a copy up in the morning.” The biggest downfall of the job was not being able to do much after a crime was committed, especially when we had an unreliable eyewitness and no camera footage. “Kemper, did you find anything?” I called as I excused myself.

“Nothing.”

After we left the store, we drove around the area, hoping to spot someone who fit the storekeeper’s description. Just as we were about to head back to the precinct and conclude our shift, dispatch came over the radio. There was another reported break-in two blocks from our location. From the 911 call, three men were ransacking a liquor store. Gunning the engine, I flipped on the lights but left the siren off, not wanting to spook them for fear they would run before we got there. 

Screeching to a stop in front of the store, Kemper and I got out of the car.
My hand rested on the butt of my gun as we crept toward the broken glass. Back-up was supposed to be on the way, but they were at least ten minutes out. This was going to be our show.

“Police, freeze,” I announced, stepping through the broken glass of the front door and pointing my gun and flashlight at one of the men.
It was dark inside. The only illumination came from a single neon beer sign hanging above a cooler. Kemper was behind me and spotted a second man. The two thugs looked familiar, and I felt positive they were the two guys who phoned in a complaint about us the other night. The men raised their hands, dropping the extra large Patron bottles they were holding. The tequila shattered on the floor, making a large puddle of glass and liquor. “Keep your hands in the air and slowly put them behind your heads.”

“Interlock your fingers, and no sudden movements,” Kemper added.
As he continued to cover me, I cautiously stepped forward to slap cuffs on one of them. Before I could reach one of the men, the third thief emerged from the shadow, shoving Kemper and bolting out the door. “I got him,” my partner yelled, forgetting he was covering me and chasing the perp out of the store.

“Don’t move,” I warned.
Being stuck somewhere dark and unfamiliar with two hostile men was unsettling. They were both half a foot taller and probably had fifty or more pounds on me. 

The one Kemper had been watching, dropped his hands, teetering slowly as I tried to shift my focus and the beam of my flashlight from one to the other.
“What’s a matter, baby? Scared of the dark?” he taunted.

“Stay where you are,” I commanded.
I really wasn’t supposed to shoot someone, particularly if he was unarmed. “Don’t move. Hands on your head.” I kept alternating my gaze, but in the darkness I couldn’t be certain if they were getting closer or not. I tried to move nonchalantly back to the exit. But, the second man had lowered his hands and stepped closer.

While I was distracted by
the second thief, the one that I had initially been approaching surprised me. He was taller and larger than I was, and he had grabbed me in a tight bear hug from behind. He forced my arms to remain down at my sides, and I lost the grip on my gun and flashlight. I struggled and kicked off the ground trying to get free. I could hear them laughing as I bucked and fought. The light had gone out when it hit the floor, and I was fighting blind.

While one of them kept me in a vise-grip, the oth
er must have picked up a bottle because something hard collided with the side of my head, and the world flipped upside down. The pain came in waves, and I felt something warm and sticky spread over me. I was on the floor, and the smell of the broken alcohol bottles was nauseating. My eyes started to burn, and I shut them against the pain. I heard laughing and footsteps growing softer as they escaped into the night. Then there was nothing but terror and blackness.

~*~

“Careful,” a voice said as I felt myself being lifted. The motion made my stomach roil, and I barely managed to turn my head to the side before I vomited. “I’d say she’s got a concussion. We’re going to take her to the ER to get checked out.”

“Officer
Sarcone?” a different voice asked. My eyes fluttered, and I fought to keep them open. “Alessandra. Stay awake,” the unidentified speaker coaxed. The sun had come up, and it was too bright. Everything was too bright and too loud. Sleep. That’s all I needed. “Alessandra. Alessandra.” Lexie, I wanted to say in order to correct the speaker, but I didn’t have the energy to form the word.   

When I opened my eyes again, my head was throbbing in time to my heartbeat.
The room was a dingy white, and the lights were too bright. The room was spinning or wobbling, moving in some haphazard fashion, and I couldn’t figure out why.

“Oh thank god,” Michael said.
I felt him squeeze my hand, and I tried to turn in his direction, but my head hurt too much to move. My thinking was delayed, sluggish, and I felt I needed to concentrate on breathing more than anything else. Something was wrong.

“What happened?” I managed to croak.

He maneuvered around so he was within my line of sight.
He looked concerned. “You don’t remember?” He frowned.

I squinted against the harsh light, and pain erupted in my head.
Michael released my hand and flipped off the light. At the sudden darkness, my eyes shot open, and despite the torment that quick action inflicted within my skull, I remembered the liquor store. “Oh my god.” Somewhere in the room, something started beeping, and my breathing bordered on hyperventilating.

“
Shh,” Michael soothed, “I’m right here. You’re safe. Shh. Slow, deep breaths. C’mon Lexie, you’ve got to relax. Shh.” His eyes flicked to something behind me, but I couldn’t turn. Instead, I clung to his arm like it was a lifeline. The panic was starting to ebb, and the pieces were falling into place.

“What’s wrong with me?” I asked
, still panicked, realizing I was in a hospital and the beeping was the monitor hooked to my chest.

“You’ve sustained a concussion, but you’re going to be fine. The doctors just wanted to wait for you to wake up and keep you here
a little while for observation. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Kemper?”
I asked.

Michael’s featured contorted into an angry sneer.
“He’s fine now, but just wait until I get my hands on him.” I winced, and immediately, Michael softened. “The back-up unit found you unconscious inside the liquor store. They called for an ambulance. When I got to work, I heard the radio call, officer down. I never expected it to be you.”

The door opened, and I adjusted my gaze from Michael to the man in the lab coat standing in front of me.
He provided some type of introduction, but I wasn’t focusing enough to remember. He ran a flashlight in front of my eyes, and I squinted and turned away. Then he looked at the x-ray and MRI scans they had done while I was unconscious. There didn’t appear to be any hemorrhaging which was a good thing, but the resulting head trauma was still fairly severe. I was told to remain on bed rest for the rest of the week and if I didn’t see an improvement in the pain or symptoms to come back for another round of scans.

“Can’t you give me something?” I practically begged.
Every time I looked at the light or turned my head too quickly it felt like my brain would explode.

“Do not take aspirin or ibuprofen,” he warned.
“Tylenol, that’s it. And plenty of rest.”

“Thanks, doc,” Michael replied, getting up and shaking the man’s hand.
Shutting my eyes, I couldn’t deal with the light any longer.

“Just make sure she has someone staying with her for the next day or so to make sure she’s coherent and
doesn’t enter into an altered mental state. That would be the first sign of a bleed.” The door shut with a bang, and I realized I couldn’t deal with loud noises either.

“As soon as they discharge you, I’m taking you home,” Michael promised.

“But you’re working,” I protested meekly.

“This is a personal emergency, and I need the time off.
I’m not Holowitz. I’m sure the streets aren’t going to go completely to shit without me.”

“
But they’re going to realize we’re dating.” This had never seemed very important, but for some reason, now it bothered me.

“I couldn’t give a flying fuck.”
He gently rubbed his thumb against my cheek. “How the hell could Kemper let this happen to you? Where was he?”

“He left.
There were three of them, and he went after the third one.” My cheeks burned, and the only thought I had was that if I started to cry, my head would hurt so much worse. I shut my eyes and squeezed Michael’s hand while we waited in silence for my discharge papers.