Officer Off Limits (9 page)

“Brent, knock it off or I swear to God—”

“Uh-oh.” Brent reached into the console and picked up his two-way radio, pretending to turn it on, then holding it up to his mouth. “This is car two-two-nine requesting backup. We’ve got an officer down. I repeat, officer down. Dispatch, please alert medical personnel that officer is whipped.”

“Please remind me why we’re friends.”

“Aw, you love me, you dick.”

Matt turned in the passenger seat to face him. “How does she feel about you?”

“That’s what has me kind of fucked up, all right? I have no idea. I usually don’t have to ask.” And he’d left before he could talk to her since she’d been sleeping. Warm and naked and delicious.
Jesus.

Not to mention, on top of being completely unprepared with protection last night, he’d had a full-blown nightmare from which she’d needed to forcibly wake him. Then, just to round out the evening, he’d turned her around and screwed her brains out as if she didn’t deserve anything better from him. He’d given her hot, filthy, rebound sex. Plain and simple. Only, he didn’t like the idea of being a rebound to Story. In fact, he fucking hated it. A rebound could easily imply one night. And Christ, he needed to see her again.

He’d woken from the recurring dream as he usually did, mind reeling out of control. Unaware of his surroundings. But last night, his body had caught on long before his head could. The genuine concern on her face had only succeeded in disarming him further, her butterfly kisses on his belly and chest short-circuiting his brain. He’d hurtled himself at her before forming a coherent thought, using sex to regain the control he lacked in his dream. He’d planned on coaxing her to orgasm at least twice before allowing himself to push inside her. Sweet-talking her the whole way. But the damn dream had removed his filter, allowing every filthy thought in his mind to come pouring out.

If not for the fact that he’d satisfied her, he’d have already given up all hope of seeing her again. The way she’d screamed his name still echoed in his ears, making him crazed to hear it again. Loud enough for every man in the vicinity to hear it. He might be the one with experience, but she’d shown him last night everything he’d been missing. If he’d offended her with his language or roughness, he would find a way to make it up to her.

“Call her and talk to her. You can’t go into this training session with your mind somewhere else. That’s when accidents happen.”

“Oh Matt, I love it when you talk safety,” Brent said as they turned into the Lincoln Tunnel.

“Yeah, I’ll call her. When Brent isn’t sitting two feet away, taking notes.”

A snort from the driver’s seat. “I don’t need your tips.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, buddy. Hayden didn’t seem too impressed last night.”

“Oh, really?” Daniel leaned forward, glad to have the focus off him. “Now we’re talking. Let’s hear it.”

Brent shook his head. “It’s nothing—”

Matt cut him off. “The second you and Story left, he threw an arm around her shoulder and asked her if she wanted one more drink. Or maybe he called it a
nightcap
. She told him he was drunk enough. And…wait for it…he said, verbatim, ‘I’m not drunk, I’m just intoxicated by you.’ She couldn’t get into a cab fast enough.”

Daniel barked out a laugh. “Oh, wow. You should write poetry.” He shook his head. “Seriously, have I taught you nothing?”

“Very funny, assholes.” Brent scowled. “I’m not into uptight rich girls anyway.”

Daniel and Matt exchanged an amused glance just as they pulled into the training center located directly on the banks of the Hudson River. It boasted three helipads that they would be making use of for the training exercise, and a massive warehouse containing a gymnasium, an Olympic-size swimming pool, and several obstacle courses.

As soon as Brent pulled into a parking spot, Daniel hopped out and dialed Story’s number. He didn’t have long before the session began and Matt had been right—he wouldn’t be able to concentrate with the possibility that she wouldn’t want to see him again hanging over his head.

She answered on the third ring, her voice stroking over his senses. “Hello?”

“Hey, sunshine.”

“Daniel.”

Good Lord, baby, Say my name again. I need you to say it in your sleep. When you touch yourself. To no one in particular. Just say it, say it, say it.
“Did you get out of bed yet?”

Her breath caught at his gruff reminder that they’d been in bed together mere hours before. Good. He wanted her thinking about it. “Yes, I’m at the hospital visiting my dad. I’m in the lobby buying coffee.”

A subtle hint that Jack wouldn’t overhear anything they said. For some reason, that bothered him a little too much. “How is he today?”

“I had to read him the riot act about his corned beef consumption.” She sighed. “Also, he’s thinking of fixing you up with Hayden, so there’s that…”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “Is that right?”

“Hmm.”

“Too bad she’s not my type.” He dropped his voice. “I prefer sexy little blondes who have tan lines hiding underneath their panties.”

He thought he heard her moan softly and his body responded without hesitation. Nothing ever went according to plan with this girl. Even as he’d dialed her number, his plan had been to apologize for being too physical last night in bed, but everything went out the window the second she’d answered. A flicker of irritation passed through him that he couldn’t refrain from making their conversation sexual, but the rest of him was too stirred up to care.

“Were you peeking while I slept?”

“I might have. Does that bother you?”

“It should.”

“But it doesn’t.”

A short, exhale of breath. “No.”

Daniel groaned into the phone. “God, why didn’t I take you again this morning? If I could do it over again, I would roll you over and suck on your nipples until you were wet enough for me. I’ll always have to make sure you’re slick, baby. You’re so tight…”

She gave a choked cough. “I can’t believe you’re saying this to me while I’m standing in line for coffee. There are people around…”

“Would you say something dirty if no one could overhear you?”

“Maybe.” A deep breath. “Yes.”

Daniel hummed his approval at her honesty. “Good. Remember what you want to say and tell me later.”

Blowing out a breath he envisioned ruffling her bangs, she changed the subject. “What kind of training exercise do you have today? Anything exciting?”

He laughed at the unsteadiness in her voice. “We’ve got some choppers taking us out to Long Island Sound to do water rescues.”

“As in, jumping out of a helicopter into the water? That kind of water rescue?” He made a brief sound of confirmation. “Be careful, Daniel. I don’t want to miss my first baseball game tomorrow night.”

His brow furrowed. “Your first baseball game?”

“Yeah. Jack said you wanted to take me to a Mets game tomorrow night.”

“He did?” Did he miss something? He was a Mets season ticket holder and had planned on going to the game tomorrow night, but he hadn’t told Jack he would take Story.

“Was he…wrong?” Story asked, sounded unsure. “If you’re taking someone else—”

“No!”
Wake up, idiot.
“No. Sorry, I was just distracted. Of course I’m taking you.”

“All right, great.” He heard her order two cups of coffee in the background. “Oh, and Jack said to tell you something…what was it? Ah…he said, ‘If the Mets get anywhere near home base, it’ll be the last game they ever play.’” She laughed. “I don’t know a lot about baseball. Did that make sense?”

Daniel gulped. “Perfect sense.” In other words,
touch my daughter and die, asshole
.

“See you tomorrow, Daniel.”

“Bye, sunshine.”

Daniel hung up the phone and stared off into space. Obviously Jack was trying to kill him.
Take my beautiful daughter out, sit next to her for hours on end, and bring her home untouched.
The prom date from hell.

Matt and Brent came up behind him.

“How’d it go?” Matt asked.

“Oh, you know…perfect.” He turned to Brent. “I’m taking her to the game tomorrow night.”

Brent’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell? I thought you were taking me?”

“Tough shit. She smells better than you.”

Chapter Twelve

As Daniel rode the elevator to Story’s floor, he repeated the promise he’d made to himself countless times since Saturday morning. They were going to have a normal date. He could keep his indecent thoughts—and hands—to himself for the next five hours. And when they returned from Queens later tonight, he would wait until she invited him inside, not making any assumptions. He’d spent a lot of time thinking since last he’d seen her and he’d come to one conclusion. If he wanted Story to take him seriously, he needed to prove to her that sex didn’t rule his every waking thought and action. Right now, she viewed him as someone who played the field, someone only interested in her body. He hadn’t helped discourage that assumption and it was time to rectify it.

Furthermore, he owed it to Jack to act like a gentleman with his daughter. He’d failed in doing so up until this point, but it ended now. Going behind his mentor’s back was bad enough.

Five hours. He would charm her, show her his thoughtful side. Brent insisted that women went crazy for men who were sensitive, though, Jesus, when the hell had he started considering Brent’s advice? He was usually the one doling out words of wisdom concerning the opposite sex. Maybe he and Story could discuss a book or something. He hadn’t read a book in a while, but he could wing it. After all, he worked best under pressure.

On Friday night, he’d completely bullied her. Dragged her from the bar, given her hell for her little onstage performance, and roughed her up in bed. Tonight, he would be Mr. Tranquility. Nothing would rattle him. By the end of the date, she’d see him in a new light. Daniel, the thoughtful, fun-loving Mets fan. He pulled off complicated negotiations on a weekly basis. He could absolutely pull this off.

He stepped off the elevator with a little extra bounce in his step. Then he saw the plastic-wrapped bouquet of red roses sitting outside her door. Roses he hadn’t sent. And just like that, his sea of tranquility turned into the perfect storm.

“Oh, hell no.” Snatching the arrangement off the floor so fast that one of the blooms fell to the ground, he searched for a note among the greenery.

For Story. —Fisher

Daniel pounded on the door, note crumpled in his fist. A few seconds later, she answered smiling. But it quickly disappeared when she glimpsed his expression. Dressed in the jean skirt he remembered all too well from their first encounter, and a white tank top, she looked mouthwateringly fresh and beautiful. For some reason, that only made his irritation grow.

Eyes landing on the flowers, she pursed her lips in confusion. “Okay, a puzzle. I like puzzles. You bought me flowers, but you’re clearly angry with me. Were they that expensive?”

“I didn’t buy them.” Daniel took little comfort in her look of surprise. He couldn’t think past the foreign emotions burning through his gut. “They’re from him.”

“Him…who?” Recognition dawned in her eyes. “Fisher? Why would he send me flowers?” She shook her head. “Roses, at that. He always bought me sunflowers.”

Irrational anger ate at him. Daniel could see his reaction for what it was, but the momentary clarity did nothing to counteract his single-minded jealousy. He
never
let himself get irrational. It accomplished nothing. Why, then, did the thought of another man sending her flowers make him want to punch a hole in the wall?

Because she doesn’t belong with you. She belongs with the kind of man you’ll never be. The kind of man who sends flowers.
And why the hell hadn’t he thought to bring her flowers? He’d gotten lucky with this date falling unexpectedly into his lap, and now her ex-fiancé was showing him up from across the damn country.

Well, he was the only one there and he would pleasure her the only way he knew how. He backed Story into the apartment and kicked the door shut behind him. As they stared at each other, the air thickened, closing in and cocooning them until it felt as though only they existed. Sexual awareness, always present between them, beat powerfully in his ears. He watched as Story registered the change in the atmosphere, relished the way her lips parted just slightly on a tiny inhale, her eyes dropping below the waistband of his jeans.

Desire mixing with uncertainty on her face, as though she sensed an air of danger in him and liked it. “If you came to argue, maybe you should just leave.”

“You don’t want me to leave.” Inwardly, he flinched at his dark tone. He shouldn’t be talking to her like that, knew he needed to rein it in, yet the need to assert his claim on her battered him from the inside. He felt the calm, rational part of his brain desert him and a cruel, possessive alter ego take over. Toning it down wasn’t an option.

“Why don’t you tell me what your problem is?”

Daniel moved toward her, but she held her ground, eyes shining up at him defiantly. The urge to kiss her, to let his need overtake his anger, almost won. But not quite. “Yesterday on the phone, you wanted to say something dirty to me. I told you to remember it and tell me later. Now’s the time. I want to hear it.”

“No.”

He ran a teasing finger along her neckline. “Would you like me to persuade the words out of you?” Her breasts rose and fell in a shaky breath, beautifully, temptingly, but she didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. He leaned forward to whisper against her mouth. “I think you want that very badly. Missed my hands, my mouth, my cock, didn’t you, baby?”

A needy whimper passed her lips, but her eyes squeezed shut, as if gathering strength. Then she looked up at him with a familiar expression. She was daring him again, just like two nights before.
Do your worst
. He felt stripped bare under her blue-green gaze. It threatened to topple years of pent-up feelings like dominoes, so he rebelled against it. To give in to her dare would be emotional suicide.

Walk away. You’re tarnishing her just by being near her.

No. He couldn’t walk away any more than he could stop breathing. In a burst of speed, Daniel grasped her around the waist and dropped her onto the dining room table, her bare thighs slapping on the surface. He spoke around the steel band gripping his throat. “Now, gorgeous girl. What dirty little secret were you going to tell me? Let me know when I’m getting warm.” His thumbs drew lazy circles on the insides of her knees. “Were you going to tell me that you woke up after our night together, all tight and wet for me, wishing I was still there to take care of you?”

“No,” she moaned, her thighs parting ever so slightly wider in way he knew was unconscious for her, contradicting her words. She couldn’t help wanting him any more than he could help the dark, possessive cloud that had settled over him, guiding his actions.

“No?” He echoed against her neck, where he swirled patterns on her skin with his tongue. “Were you going to ask me to bite you harder next time? Perhaps on your hip or that sexy part of your thigh just beneath your ass.”

“M-maybe,” Story gasped, surprising him. He’d meant his words to shock her, but judging from the way she shifted restlessly on the table, they only served to arouse her further.

He swallowed the urge to spread her legs and pound away his frustration, jealousy, and lust. Just a little longer. “Were you going to tell me you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly in your life?”

“
Yes
, Daniel.”

A darkly primal growl originated in his belly and rumbled through his chest. Just a little further. He needed something more from her, but he could barely discern what that something was over the hunger blanketing his thoughts. Daniel slid his hand between her legs and crooked his middle finger just slightly. “Then I believe that grants me exclusive rights to this.”

Story gasped and pushed hard against his chest. For long moments, they stared at each other, attempting to catch their breath. Seeing the confusion on her face finally brought him out of his hostile state, to be immediately replaced by panic and self-loathing.

“Jesus, Daniel.” With jerky motions, she stood and straightened her skirt. “What is wrong with you?”

He dropped heavily into the dining room chair. “I don’t know. God, I’m so sorry.” He knew he should get up and leave the apartment, never contact her again. He’d be doing her a favor. She should be demanding he leave. Maybe she already had. He couldn’t remember.

Story ran a shaky hand through her hair. “I don’t understand why you felt the need to go there.”

What could he say? He’d been pushed over the edge by some goddamn flowers? He’d carefully constructed a persona that he slipped into around women, but around her, he couldn’t keep it up. Maybe this was the real him. If that was the case, she should be running in the opposite direction. “There is no explanation for the way you make me feel. A few days ago we were standing in front of a vending machine and now we’re here. Nothing so far has been…explainable.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “We were just supposed to talk about books, goddammit.”

Daniel looked up at her from his seated position, watching as she absorbed his words, determined his fate. Whatever she decided, he would take it like a man. He would fucking hate walking away from her, but he’d known from the beginning that she deserved better. And he’d just proven it to her beyond a shadow of a doubt. How everything had gone to absolute shit within ten minutes, he could hardly fathom.

“No one has exclusive rights to me. Except
me
.” She pierced him with a look. “You just made me feel…really cheap.”

He jerked as if she’d slapped him again. “Oh sunshine, if anyone’s cheap, it’s me.”

She swayed a little on her feet, his apology only seeming to upset her further. When Daniel couldn’t stand her silence anymore, he finally spoke up. “So what happens now?”

After a long, torturous moment when she stood debating, Story finally walked to the couch and picked up her purse. “I guess we go watch some goddamn baseball.”

…

On the half-hour ride to Queens they stayed mostly silent, Daniel glancing at her every few minutes as if she might throw open the passenger door on the highway and hurl herself into traffic to escape him. While she certainly wouldn’t go that far, she knew her decision to attend the baseball game with him after the scene in Jack’s apartment could be deemed highly questionable. Story liked the way Daniel took charge sexually and pushed the boundaries, but he’d gone overboard. She’d nearly demanded he leave regardless of his sincere apology, giving her some much-needed time to clear her mind, but he’d looked up at her with such naked misery on his face, she couldn’t do it.

Jack’s words had come back to her in that precise moment.
He’s just another jackass with a badge.
She’d realized then that Jack wasn’t the only one who believed such a thing about Daniel. Daniel wholeheartedly believed it, too. Kicking him out would have just proven it to him. And she saw more.

In a strange way, she found his jealousy kind of… comforting? Perhaps that wasn’t the correct word. One thing she knew for certain. Fisher wouldn’t have looked up from his phone long enough to notice flowers from another man, let alone comment on them.

She’d always wondered what Fisher was thinking. She didn’t have to wonder with Daniel. He appeared unable to hide his emotions from her. Maybe this was simply her way of justifying her decision to leave with him, because her excitement over spending time with him hadn’t been dampened by his display of possessiveness. It may have even heightened it. The realization startled her a little. Up until his ill-timed comment, she’d been undeniably turned on by his behavior.

He turned his car into the lot, flashing his badge to the security attendant. They were waved through to a reserved parking area loaded with squad cars and police cruisers. Daniel pulled into a spot and cut the engine, then slid out of the car to open her door. She took his offered hand and stepped out, her eyes sweeping over his somber expression. As before when he’d woken from the nightmare, she felt shaken by the need to soothe him.

He averted his gaze. “We’re uh, late. We should probably—”

Story placed her palm against his cheek, feeling his rough stubble on her palm. He looked confused by the gesture, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from sliding closed. She marveled over the effect a simple touch from her had on him.

“Kiss me, Daniel.”

An agonized sound left his throat, but his lips were on hers immediately, parting them for his tongue. The crowd’s roar emanated from the stadium just as his hands sank into her hair, tilting her head to give him a better angle. He backed her against the car and kissed her until they ran out of air. Breathing heavily, he pulled away.

“
That’s
the kind of greeting I want next time you pick me up for a date,” she murmured against his mouth. “It doesn’t matter who sent me flowers. I’m here with you now.”

With a shaky exhale, he pressed his forehead against hers. “I can’t pretend it doesn’t matter, Story. The way I acted was inexcusable, but I can’t pretend.”

She swallowed. “Good. I don’t want you to pretend with me.”

“I’m not sure I’m capable of it.” With a sigh, he pulled away to lock the car. Taking her hand, he led her out of the parking lot and through a side entrance into the stadium, showing his tickets to an elderly man with a bar-code scanner.

Seeing the field for the first time, Story actually gasped. It looked completely different than on television. Huge and colorful, like it could suck you in. Their seats were so close to the action, she could practically see the sweat glistening on the players’ foreheads. Energy radiated from the already-seated crowd as they cheered for the next player up to bat.

She whipped around to face Daniel and found him already watching her. “You didn’t tell me they were playing the Padres! Now I have to cheer against you.”

Finally, her obvious enjoyment seemed to relax him and he smiled. “I get it, they’re your hometown team, but I’d appreciate if you kept the shit-talking to a minimum. Someone I know might see me.”

“Oh, you’d be ashamed of me. I see.” She considered the field, then turned back to him with a grin. “This calls for a wager.”

He smirked. “Name your terms, blondie.”