Lawful Domination [Uniform Fetish 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (4 page)

Grayson lifted the two-hundred-fifty-pound set and began his reps. Dominic got out of his chair to spot him. “So what’s the plan? You gonna stalk her now? Wait for her to make a rolling stop, and then hit the siren?”

“Whatever.” Grayson grunted, pushing himself hard. “You’ll see.”

They worked well together, keeping things real with citizens. Dominic loved his job. It was the backbone of his entire life, and he couldn’t imagine life not on the force. He didn’t want things to cross any boundaries, slipping from professionalism into personal territory. At the same time, Grayson’s game intrigued him because he couldn’t get the beauty out of his head.

Tomorrow was another day.

Stephanie spent all Sunday in her pajamas. She didn’t leave the apartment, not even to grab her newspaper from the other side of her door. Her entire body and nervous system were out of whack, making her feel irrationally edgy. She just needed some time alone to think and relax.

She’d sent in her assignment on time, but began to wonder if a promotion was even worth it. Did Tammy have to deal with shit like this on high-profile assignments? She kept telling herself it was just a security guard jumping to conclusions. She hadn’t been shot or even fired at. Then why couldn’t she get that man’s face out of her memory? When she closed her eyes at night to sleep it was all she saw.

By Monday morning, she was feeling a bit like her old self, just a bit jittery. It was nothing time wouldn’t heal. What she needed was fresh air, an extra large Tim Horton’s coffee, and to get back onto her regular schedule. Even sitting at her old desk pushing pencils sounded like heaven compared to being alone in her apartment another day. Every bump and footstep in the main hall made her jump. When she visited the bathroom in the night, her reflection in the vanity made her scream.
Enough is enough.

Stephanie dressed in one of her standard suits, a deep brown skirt and matching jacket. As she put on her eyeliner using the hall mirror, she barely recognized the girl looking back at her. That violent incident, regardless of how minor or brief, had changed her inside. Her confidence dwindled, her carefree edge snuffed out. Now she knew how victims of violent crimes must feel—violated, angry, and terrified. For some reason, she didn’t feel comfortable sharing the event, not even with Tammy. It was embarrassing.

As she drove to work, she kept repeating her personal mantra in her head.
You’re a strong, independent woman. You’re a strong, independent woman.
Just walking through the underground parking lot to get to her car had made her jumpy. She imagined some mindless brute standing behind every concrete pillar, ready to jump out and grab her in a hold she couldn’t escape from.

Now that she was safely on the road, she felt safe and in control once again. It was only a twenty-minute commute to work. She’d use the time to build herself up. Stephanie pumped the music, allowing the beat to filter into her pores. The high-pressure system provided endless blue skies and clean, crisp air. It was the perfect fall day, making the drive enjoyable.

She pulled into her usual spot at work. Everything was the same as it had been on Friday. Just her perspective had changed, but she wanted to go back to how things were—even if unsatisfying.

“Good morning,” said Stephanie when she passed her coworkers in the hall. Nobody looked at her differently or acted oddly. She could swear there was a
V
stamped on her forehead for
violated
. For some reason, she expected everyone to treat her like a child, feel sorry for her, and keep their distance. But none of that happened, so it must all have been in her imagination.

“Stephanie!” Mr. Templeton raced up the hall once she’d sat at her desk. His gray hair fluttered until he finally stopped, slapping her desk with a palm. “You’ve done it! You’ve made me proud and proved you have what it takes to complete an assignment on your own. Have you seen the article?”

She shook her head. After rushing out of her apartment in the morning, she hadn’t even bothered to grab her Sunday edition.

“Well, you have to see it.” He grabbed one of several stacked copies on a neighboring desk. “Take a look.” Mr. Templeton spread it out in front of her. It was right there on the first page—the best picture she’d taken of the car, the article, and an editor photo of her under the headline, “New Wave of the Future.” When she looked closer, she realized she could see a faint outline of the passenger in the car. The one with the gun. Her muscles clamped down around her heart, bringing the memory of the moment back with a vengeance.

“It looks great,” she said, masking her inner turmoil. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

The secretary raced up the hallway, her heels clicking on the ceramic floor. “Mr. Templeton, an urgent call from the chief of police.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said before rushing away.

She took a deep, cleansing breath and focused on her computer screen. It was back to the daily grind, editing her usual articles and columns. The mention of police did make her think of her two sexy cops. If only the night had ended differently. She wondered what it would have been like to date a man in uniform.

When she’d visit Tammy at the fire hall down the street, there always seemed to be firefighters, cops, or paramedics stopping by. There was just something about a man in uniform that did wicked things to her body. The fact she’d been without any man for years didn’t help her predicament.

By the time the clock struck five, she was already sick of the place. Her wrists ached and eyes felt weary. At least her anxiety had eased. The old routine of editing her columns and articles helped her more than she expected.

As she neared the front doors to the building, eager to enjoy the remnants of the beautiful day, she heard the faint murmur of voices—gossip. It usually ran rampant at the
Heartland Tribute.
With a staff consisting mostly of women, it was bound to happen. She joined the group of staff members at the front desk.

“Something juicy?” She was usually the queen of current affairs around the office.

“We overheard Templeton talking with the police chief,” said Emily, the secretary.

“Oh?”

“That car you did the article on, it’s been stolen.” She patted the paper in front of her, pointing out the prototype car.

“When?” Had it been the night of the party, yesterday, or just now?

“I just heard that they’re not sparing any expense to find that car. You’d think they were trying to recover a ship’s bounty, not some dumb prototype,” said Emily.

“A prototype that could potentially change the world as we know it. I’d say there’s plenty of motivation to steal it.” Stephanie glanced at the newspaper once more. If those men had been the thieves then she’d been lucky to escape with her life. And she was potentially a witness in an important investigation.
I can’t deal with that.

She said her good-byes and left the office for the day. As she drove along with the usual rush-hour traffic, Stephanie knew she couldn’t go straight home. Being alone with her thoughts was something she needed to avoid for a while.

Brrrup, brrrup, brrrup.

When she checked out her rearview mirror, there was a police car glued to her bumper. She was going along with the traffic at a slow crawl, so she knew she wasn’t speeding. Did the chief find out she was a witness in the auto theft? After trying to play it off, hoping they were just trying to get through the traffic, she pulled onto the next side street. The police car followed, parking right behind her.

This time she wasn’t in the mood to play around. She’d had a long day at work and had too much on her mind. Stephanie stepped out of her car without being told and waited with her arms crossed. She tapped her low heel, resting her hip against the driver’s side door.

When she saw
him,
her bravado quickly diminished. She stood up straight, dropping her arms to her sides. As he strode toward her, she fiddled with the hem of her jacket. She was surprised that he didn’t remind her of the Saturday night drama. All she saw was the uniform and his dark eyes completely trained on her. She felt a delicious violation, as if he undressed her with just a look.

“Ms. Vasquez, we meet again.”

“Have I done something wrong, Officer Myers?” She was surprised how easily the flirting came back to her. One minute she’d been pissed off with the world. Now everything was sunshine and daisies.

“It’s a one-way street.”

She looked up and sure enough there was another arrow pointing in the opposite direction. He’d set her up.

“You signaled for me to pull over.”

He shook his head, pulling out his ticket pad and pen. He flipped over the cover and tapped the pen to his thick lips. “You chose to turn here. I gave you a break last time. This is a second offense.”

His face was so void of emotion, she wasn’t sure if he was playing or serious. Then she noticed Dom exiting the passenger side of the cop car. Maybe he’d be more reasonable, like last time.

“What do you have against me?” she asked. “I really can’t afford a ticket for this. Just because you saw me at that high-priced gala doesn’t mean I’m rolling in money. I was just covering it for the paper.”

“I know.” He wrote on the ticket, not looking at her.

“How do you know? Does it say where I work on my police record?”

“You don’t have a record.”

The late-afternoon sun highlighted the strands of gold in Dom’s dirty-blond hair as he neared. She couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders, the way the navy material clung to his hard muscles. “Problem here?”

“Yes. Why am I getting a ticket?”

“You must have committed a crime.” They stood side by side, a massive wall of authority. She felt weak in the knees as a wave of want and need slammed into her. “Turn around and face the car.”

She frowned, wondering what he was doing, but complied.

“Hands on the car.” They were treating her like a common criminal. When Dom’s hands locked around her wrists from behind, her breath caught. “Now, don’t move.” She couldn’t even speak, never mind move. Stephanie should be furious, venting steam for the treatment, but she only wanted more. Her fantasies were playing out and she expected to wake up to the alarm clock buzzer any second.

He squeezed her arms from wrist to shoulder in slow, measured increments. It felt like a sensual massage more than a frisking.

“Aren’t female officers supposed to search women?”

“I’m just patting you down, sweetheart. Don’t get excited.” He skimmed the backs of his hands down both her sides at once. Her eyes lolled back in her head, her nipples pebbling. What she really wanted was for his hand to reach around and cup her mound. When he bent down and ran his hands down her bare legs, she nearly cried out for him to reach under her skirt. She was glad she’d freshly shaved her legs this morning.

“She clean?” asked Officer Myers.

“Very.” His voice was anything but professional. It was deep, promising hours of depraved pleasure. Was it wrong to hit on a cop? She wondered if these nuts would charge her for harassing an officer if she tried.

“Can I turn around now?” She still had her hands on the hood of the car as told.

“Good girl. You can follow instructions well,” said Myers.

His choice of words rang strong in her. Stephanie had never known her own father. She was well aware she had some degree of daddy issues. Older, dominant men did something for her that carefree guys her own age never could. She wanted to be loved, adored, mastered.

“How can we make that ticket go away?” she asked. Was that subtle enough to keep her out of hot water? At this point, she probably wouldn’t object to a quick fuck against the side of their cruiser. Her pussy was throbbing uncomfortably, achy and wet. She wondered if it was wrong for a woman to be so forward, so comfortable with her sexuality. Perhaps any healthy woman would feel the same way when confronted with these two men. She’d expect to find them as heroes in an action-adventure movie, not patrolling the streets of her city. They must spend hours a day keeping their bodies so pleasingly perfect.

Her friend Tammy had blasted her time and time again for her flirting and noncandid way of speaking. But she was the one sleeping with four firefighters now.

“Have you ever heard of the expression about doing time for a crime?” Myers leaned closer, one arm propped against her car, the other resting on his gun belt.

She nodded. “You’re putting me in jail?”

They both smirked at once. “No, I’m asking you out.” He handed her the ticket, which was actually just a blank slip of paper with a name and number written on it.

“Grayson?”

“No pressure. I promise I won’t lock you up if you say no.” He winked at her and returned to his police car. Dom shadowed the retreat on the other side. She was left standing there with the piece of paper, dumbfounded and uncomfortably horny.

“What’re we having for dinner?” asked Dom. “Chinese?”

Grayson had just gotten out of the shower. Their shift had ended at three, which left them half the day and a meal to plan. “No.” He sighed, massaging the back of his neck as he paced in front of the large bay window. He hadn’t felt so unsettled in years.

“You still pining over that girl?” asked Dom. It had been two days since he’d given her his number. Every time the phone rang, his heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he could hope.

“You should be happy,” said Grayson. “Looks like you may win the bet.”

“I’d rather lose. I could have sworn she was interested.”

“Women are impossible to predict. Forget her.”

The phone rang. They both raced to pick it up, nearly knocking the furniture over. They weren’t small men. Grayson stared at Dom when they reached the cordless on the kitchen counter at the same time. It was a standoff.