“I didn’t think a cock would be both soft and hard.” He lets out another groan, but this time he shifts, pinning me under him.

  “You’re going to make me come before I’m inside you.”

  “My handjob’s that good?”

  “Everything about you is damn good, but knowing I’m the only cock you’ve touched makes me all kinds of possessive.” He yanks down his sweatpants enough to free his cock. I lift my hips, rubbing my sex against him. I let out a small moan when it glides right between my slit, hitting my clit.

  “Never thought I’d say this, but I like you being possessive of me,” I admit.

  “That’s fucking good because it’s not about to change.” The head of his cock slips down further. “You’re so damn wet.” He slips inside of me an inch. “But damn tight.”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. I’ve been thinking about this for twenty minutes.” I lay in bed and just stared at him. His face is branded in my brain. From his thick lashes to the one freckle below his ear to the tiny scar he has on his jaw.

  “Should have woken me twenty minutes ago,” he says before he thrusts all the way inside of me. I let out a gasp. His hand comes off my mouth, but he’s careful not to hit my bottom lip. “I’ve been dying to fuck you in this bed,” he whispers against my ear. “I bet when you were younger, you’d touch yourself. Wonder what it would be like to be taken.”

  “Hmm,” I moan behind his hand. I had done those things, but my fantasies were nothing compared to Vincent.

  “All those orgasms you gave yourself. Those belong to me too.” Oh God, is he trying to kill me here? “Go on. Slip your hand down there. Play with your clit like you did when you were all alone at night.” He nips at my ear when I don’t move fast enough. I slip my hand between us as he keeps thrusting away.

  My fingers find my clit, and within seconds, I’m coming. It’s almost embarrassing how fast and hard I come, but Vincent is right there with me. He groans my name into my ear as he spills his release deep inside of me.

  We both lie there trying to catch our breath. He lifts his hand from my mouth as he trails kisses up my jaw to my lips where he puts the softest kiss.

  “You know I can’t not wake up this way every morning now.” He smiles down at me. Does he mean forever or while he’s here? I open my mouth to ask, but my mom calls my name.

  “You’re going to be late. I made you something to take with you,” she calls from the other side of the door but thankfully doesn’t open it.

  “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be right out,” I manage to get out. Vincent slides his cock out of me and sits back. I start to close my legs because he’s staring right at my sex, but he stops me. I can feel his release draining out of me and onto my bed.

  “Going to think about this all day.”

  “You’re a perv.” I try to close my legs again, but he leans down and swirls his tongue around my clit.

  “I’m your perv now. You did this to me,” he says before placing a kiss on my clit. “Now you’ll think about me all day.” He smirks as he gets up from the bed, adjusting his sweatpants back into place.

  “Trust me. I’ll be thinking about you,” I mutter as I get out of bed. He snags me around my waist, pulling me into him.

  “Say it. Don’t mutter it.” His hand comes to my chin, tilting my head up to stare into his eyes. “I’ll miss you. Not shy about admitting it. Won’t be a second today I won’t be thinking about you.”

  “I’ll miss you too.”

  “See, not so hard, was it?” He gives me another one of those feather-like kisses to my mouth, but I don’t miss the small irritation that sparks in his eyes. He's pissed about my lip, but he’s not bringing it up. I was sure he’d be on me about it today.

  “You’re pretty hard,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. “Plus, I might see you today. It’s the first Saturday of the month, so that means it’s field day. Sam and I will park next to the field. Someone always sprains an ankle or something.”

  “Field day?”

  “Yeah, people set up tents and make lots of food while some play football or whatever.” I pull my panties on. I should shower, but I kind of like the idea of having the smell of Vincent on me. I guess I’m a perv too.

  “Will the whole town go?” he asks, watching me get dressed. I wonder if Brittany will come. I should swing by and check on her, or maybe it’s best to leave her alone. I’ll text Tina to check in.

  “Pretty much. There’s even a knitting tent where some people knit while watching the games. My mom will be in it after she’s done dropping off whatever food she’s prepared to take. I’m sure my brother will be going.”

  “If you’re going to be there, I’ll be there.” His eyes narrow when he watches me slide my boots on before I slip a small knife into one of them. “You always carry that?”

  “Yep. I’m small, if you haven't noticed. I’m trained and licensed to carry a gun too.”

  “EMTs can do that?” His brows pull together.

  “This isn’t New York.” I give him a playful wink. He doesn’t smile. “Sometimes we’re first on scene. We’re trained to look for safety first and should stand down if we feel unsafe, but sometimes as I’m sure you know people can bleed out in minutes. Sometimes there aren’t seconds to wait.”

  “I guess I never thought about how dangerous your job could be.”

  “I don’t carry one on me, but yeah, I keep a weapon in the ambulance. Never had to use it, but it’s there. I’m a better shot than my brother.” He gives me a skeptical look. “Okay, he’s better with a rifle.” I roll my eyes. Vincent still doesn’t crack a smile.

  “Like I said, I’ve never had to use it. I doubt I ever will.” Would be nice if I could shoot Blake in the nuts. I pull my hair up into a ponytail as I make my way into the bathroom to finish getting ready for work. When I walk out, Vincent hasn’t moved an inch.

  I go to him. He said he wanted to wake up every morning with me in his bed. I think it would be nice to kiss him goodbye each day before I left for work and again when I got home. I lean up on to my tiptoes and offer him my mouth. Again, he brushes his mouth gently against mine as one of his hands grabs my ass.

  “If anyone harms a hair on your head, they’ll not only have you to deal with but Frank and me too.”

  “That so?” I smirk up at him, but something dark flashes in his eyes.

  “You like to toy with your prey, sweet thing. Mine never see me coming.”

  He’s right. I never did see Vincent coming, but I don’t think he’s talking about me right now.

  CHAPTER 19

  VINCENT

  I wait until Emma leaves for the park before finding Frank. He was responsible for running down additional intel on Chief Finley while I helped Mrs. Charles prepare an enormous ramen noodle salad.

  Frank is in his room, sitting at a small maple desk, scrolling through some old news articles. He swivels toward me. “You save me any salad?”

  I drop a bowl next to his computer. “I didn’t, but your mom did.”

  He digs in immediately. “This is pretty good. I expected it to taste like dog shit since you were in the kitchen, but I guess you can’t screw up with my mom watching over you.”

  “What’d you find?” I ask.

  With a mouthful of noodles, he pushes the computer screen toward me. “I typed it up.”

  According to Frank’s notes, the mayor had several middle of the week unexplained visits during Finley’s college years. They weren’t during sporting events or family gatherings, and they stopped as soon as Finley graduated. A few young women from the area left quickly and haven’t returned. One of those girls, Cara, had gone to the emergency room twice in the span of four weeks with bruises. According to the hospital records that Sam could access, Cara worked as a large animal vet technician, and she blamed her injuries on work duties.

  An elementary teacher by the name of Rosie had also had an unexplained teaching absence around the same time it was rumored she had been seeing Chief Finley. The two had been seen having dinner together a couple towns over, but after a two-week impromptu vacation from work where her neighbors said she didn’t leave the house at all unless she was wearing a hat and mask, those rumors died off.

  “She’s married now. Or engaged. One of the two,” Frank informs me between bites.

  Finally, one of the girls from the bar called Sam up and asked if all ambulance calls were recorded or whether those could be kept private.

  “He’s a serial abuser.” I shove the laptop away in disgust.

  “Yeah. My guess is that Emma figured it out and tried to do something.”

  “She got caught by Finley and came away with the busted lip.” I straighten up and grab the half-empty bowl.

  “Hey, I wasn’t done with that,” Frank yells.

  “You are now. Time for us to go play some football.”

  “What?”

  “It’s field day, and Emma said people play football.”

  “Touch football, yes,” Frank says as he follows me into the kitchen. I empty the bowl and stick it in the dishwasher.

  “It’s tackle today.”

  The park activities are in full swing when we arrive. Chief Finley is standing in the middle of some kids, handing out cotton candy. Across the lawn, Emma’s glaring hard enough to burn a hole through the chief’s head.

  Don’t worry, babe, I’m going to give you satisfaction out of bed too.

  “How about some football?” Frank bellows. He spins the ball in the air. A number of guys come running. I send the teens away.

  “Whatever, old man,” a couple of them grumble as I tell them that they can have the field after us.

  “He just doesn’t want to be embarrassed by us,” says his friend.

  “Getting roasted by some teens,” Frank chortles. “Good going.”

  “Can’t have minors become secondary victims in this fight.”

  “Good point. Finley’s at three o’clock. Heading our way. Look sharp,” Frank murmurs.

  “I see him.” I arrow in on the asshole with a bright, dumb smile. “Chief Finley, up for some ball or do the town tax dollars not allow you to do that?”

  He bristles. “The town’s tax dollars are spent efficiently and for the good of the people, unlike the federal government that wastes it on worthless projects.”

  “Field day is nice,” I reply. “But if you’re scared to play ball with us, just say that. I understand.” I give him a lazy once-over. “I know how you cops like your donuts.”

  Finley’s jaw tightens, and the cotton candy stick breaks in his fist. “Neal, get over here and cover for me. I gotta teach these out-of-towners some manners.”

  “I’m from here,” reminds Frank.

  Finley ignores him and lets out a piercing whistle. Quickly, he gathers a team, including some of the teens we rejected. No one comes over to our side.

  “Just you two old men,” crows one of the teens. “We’ll waste you.”

  “Frank and I have been a team for longer than you’ve been able to do multiplication,” I reply.

  “Make that three.” A new voice joins us.

  I look over to see a man about my height and slightly less built stroll up. He holds out his hand.

  “Ezra Jackson,” he introduces himself. “I’m Rosie Remington’s fiancé.”

  I arch my eyebrow slightly. Is it a coincidence that the soon-to-be husband of Rosie, one of the women that may have tangled with Finley, turned up out of the blue to join this lopsided game?

  “It might get physical,” I warn.

  “I’ve been waiting for this opportunity.” He grins broadly.

  No. I think it’s no coincidence at all. I nod and shake his hand. Frank does the same.

  “We’ll be skin,” Frank says. The three of us tug off our shirts and toss them under a tree. Around us, the women are hollering.

  Finley puts his hands on his hips in irritation. He doesn’t like that he’s not the center of this attention.

  “We can be skins,” he says and gestures for his team to take their shirts off.

  “Nah, you’ve got some minors there. We can’t encourage them to be stripping in front of their moms.” Frank and I exchange grins.

  Over at the ambulance station, Emma is waving her hands. I trot over to her.

  “What’s up, baby?” I lean down to give her a quick kiss.

  “In front of everyone?” she gasps when I draw back.

  “Gotta stake my claim, and I didn’t think you wanted me to pee on your leg.”

  “No. I actively discourage urinating in public. It’s unhealthy. I also think you should put your shirt on.” She holds up a small towel and presses it against my pecs.

  “You so hungry to see Chief Finley’s abs?” I tease.

  She makes a gagging sound. “I’d rather pour acid in my eyes.”

  “One of us has to make the sacrifice then.”

  She giggles, and Sam groans.

  “Be careful,” she says, sobering up. “Someone could get hurt.”

  I grin broadly. “That’s the whole idea.”

  CHAPTER 20

  EMMA

  “This is not going to be good.” I run my tongue across my bottom lip. It doesn’t hurt, but the mark is noticeable. “How does Vincent even know about Finley?”

  “He’s got a bullshit detector?” Sam responds from beside me. I pull my eyes away from Vincent’s chest, which all the female population around and some of the male are staring at.

  Sam shifts on his feet. “What?”

  “What?” he repeats back to me, running his fingers through his short hair.

  “Samuel Keeland.” I glare at my partner. He holds his hands up in defeat.

  “Okay, maybe your brother and Vincent pulled me out of bed in the middle of the night to ask me some questions.”

  “Of course Vincent did.” I shake my head. No wonder he hadn’t pushed me for more information. That also explains why he slipped into my bed an hour later than usual. He hadn’t been giving me space. He went to do a bit of recon. I don’t know if I should be annoyed or find it sweet.

  “This is not going to end well.” I thought maybe Vincent did have a bullshit radar as Sam first tried to suggest and was going to rough him up a bit. This is far worse.

  “Well, if he did that to your lip, then he deserves whatever is coming his way.” Sam shrugs. I should have seen the red flag when Sam hadn’t asked me about my lip. I’d been lost in LaLa land thinking about Vincent since I’d left the house.

  “It’s not going to change anything.” That’s something I’m learning the hard way. All the small things I’ve done to Blake haven’t made him stop his behavior. Sure, we can dish out karma and payback all we want, but it hasn’t changed Blake. The only thing it’s going to possibly do is get Vincent’s ass into trouble, and that’s the last thing I want.

  “He’s so fucking cocky. How does he not see the freight train headed right for him?” Sam smiles, folding his arms over his chest as he watches the field. Vincent says something to Ezra, causing the man’s mouth to form into a wicked smile. I already know what that means.

  One of the teenage boys hikes the ball to Blake. The ball barely leaves the kid’s hands and my brother and Vincent pat the boy without hurting him so Ezra has a straight shot at Blake. Blake starts to throw the ball, but Ezra is already in front of him, knocking the ball out of his hands before he slams into him. Blake grunts, stumbling back and landing on his ass.

  “It’s touch!” he shouts from the ground.

  “Oops,” Ezra mutters, walking back to the other side. Blake scurries to his feet as more people gather to watch the game, realizing one has started.

  “You want to play quarterback?” Blake tosses the ball to one of the teenagers.

  Sam chuckles under his breath. Blake doesn’t want to be tossed on his ass again. Too bad for him, it’s not going to matter what position he’s going to try to play. No matter what, these men are going to knock the shit out of him. Vincent gave Ezra his hit, and I’m guessing he’s going for the rest.

  I’m not wrong either as we watch the game unfold. Vincent and my brother aren’t stupid about it. I thought Vincent might take Blake out with one shot and this whole thing would be over. No, they are drawing this out with small but powerful hits as they pretend to graze him with their shoulder or collide into him.

  So much for Vincent not toying with his prey. Or maybe he’s doing this just for me. When he turns to wink at me, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. They let the kids score a few times, and they do the same.

  “That man can move.” Melody comes out of nowhere to stand beside me. She’s right. Vincent might be big, but damn can he move fast for his size. The man is in full control of his body.

  “Eyes on my brother.” I bump her shoulder with mine.

  “I’m over having eyes on your brother.” She bumps my shoulder right back. “Hey, Sam.” She leans over to give him a smile. He gives her a chin nod, his eyes not leaving the field. “Oh gosh,” Melody says right after one the teenage boys steps back with the ball in his hand, launching it down the field toward Blake.

  It lands right in his hands, and Blake takes off toward the end zone to try to score. He doesn’t see Vincent coming. I don’t think any of us did. He’d been holding back how quick he truly was, and he’s going in for his kill shot.

  I cringe as Vincent’s body collides hard into Blake’s. Blake is propelled backward a good seven feet. I hear a crack of some kind. The ball flies back into the air. Ezra intercepts it, taking off down the field in the other direction.

  Blake is laid out flat on his back on the ground. His hand lifts to cover his face. “So he’s not unconscious. No need to rush over,” Sam says, unmoving as the crowd all gasps. Vincent towers over Blake, staring down at him.

  “Emma!” Mayor Finley calls my name. “He’s bleeding!” He points across the field as some of the crowd start to cheer for Ezra as he returns the interception for a touchdown.

  “Oh, is he?” I grab my stupid bag to follow after the mayor. Oddly, I notice out of the corner of my eye none of the other local cops rush over.

 

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