Commanding the Curvy Girl (Spoon Heroes)

Chapter Eight

Easton

" I just need to grab a few…" Molly trails off, gaping around her living room with wide eyes as I watch, gauging her reaction. She goes stock still and then blinks slowly as if trying to convince herself that she's seeing what she thinks she's seeing.

Watching her put the pieces together is fascinating. Every little thing plays out across her face like a movie flickering across a screen. First, there's shock. Then, realization. Finally, awe and consternation as she turns to face me.

"You," she says simply. "What did you do?"

I tip her head back, smirking as I lean down to kiss her. "Don't know what you're talking about, princess," I lie against her lips, teasing.

She grumbles against mine before pulling back. "How did you get my house put back together so fast, Easton? It was a wreck this morning!"

"I know a guy," I murmur, kissing all over her face. Now that I'm allowed to kiss her whenever I want, I don't plan to stop anytime soon. Except at work, of course. She's already laid down the law about making out in dispatch. Apparently, we can't be trusted or some bullshit like that. I wasn't really listening. I was busy trying to find ways to get her undressed as fast as she was getting dressed.

Turns out, I'm an inventive motherfucker. She came twice before we left the house.

"You know a guy?" She stares up at me, her eyes narrowed. "Is he a freaking Genie, by chance?"

I chuckle, bumping my forehead against hers. "He owns a cleaning company here in town. While you were packing your bag, I gave him a call. He had his crew here before Dillon and Ashton left this morning."

She gapes at me. I crook a finger under her chin, gently closing her mouth.

"I didn't want you stressing about the mess," I murmur, tugging her closer to my body. "You have a twelve-hour shift to work, and you've already had more than enough stress for one day."

"Easton," she whispers, her expression soft.

"We're partners, remember? We take care of each other." I dip my head, nibbling on her bottom lip. "This is me, doing my part, princess. Say thank you."

"Thank you," she breathes, wrapping her arms around my neck. Her tits press up against my chest, and my fucking cock throbs.

"Nah, that's not going to work for me," I growl, slipping my hand down her body. "You can say thank you like this, baby."

She gasps as I slip my hand into her pants, tugging her panties aside. She's already wet and swollen, dripping against my fingers. Fucking hell. I'm never going to get enough of this pussy.

"Eyes on me, princess," I order, my voice rough as I slip a finger inside her tight cunt.

She whimpers, her gaze locking on mine as her lips part. I see the desire swirling in her pretty blue eyes, darkening them.

"Don't look away. I want to watch every single second of your pleasure." My thumb finds her clit, circling the sensitive nub as I work another finger inside her, stretching her open. She's so fucking responsive, her body clutching at my fingers like she never wants to let go. I feel her growing wetter by the second, her juices coating my hand.

"That's it," I murmur as she starts to rock against me, seeking more. "Show me how fucking grateful you are, princess. Show me how much you love having this perfect body under my command."

"Please," she whines, and the desperation in her voice makes my cock throb painfully against the confines of my uniform pants. "Easton, please…"

I capture her lips in a searing kiss, my tongue delving into her mouth to claim every inch of her. She moans into the kiss, and I swallow down the sweet sounds of her pleasure even as I thrust my fingers harder, faster, taking her right to the edge.

"Come on my hand, Molly," I demand against her lips. "I need one more before I have to behave for the next twelve hours." It sounds like a fucking lifetime.

She whimpers, her nails digging into my upper arms as she presses her face against my throat. Her inner muscles clench around me, a soft cry pelting my skin as she shatters in my arms, writhing in ecstasy.

"Good girl," I breathe against her ear, working her through the aftershocks. "Now, I'm properly thanked."

"Easton," she whispers, melting against my chest.

My heart pulses, every goddamn piece of it falling into her hands. I'm so fucking in love with this girl. Jesus. I can't breathe through it.

As soon as I drop Molly off at dispatch, I head to Dillon's office to check in with him. Between the motherfucker who broke into her place and the arsons, we've got our hands full.

"It took you long enough to get here," he grumbles as soon as I step over the threshold, flicking his gaze up at me. "I've been here all damn day."

"Just sitting in your closet, huh?" I smirk, unable to resist needling him.

"Cut the shit before I permanently reassign you to patrol." His brows furrow. "That's actually not a bad idea. Then I can take your office since everyone has figured out where the fuck to find me in here."

"Your name is on the door, motherfucker. Maybe try taking it down if you don't want to be found."

"Tried that," he growls. "They keep putting it right back up there."

I chuckle, leaning against the wall across from him. "They like watching that little vein on your forehead pop out. Who else was in here bothering you?"

"Emmett." He mutters a curse. "If we don't find this arsonist fucker soon, he's going to snap."

"That makes two of us," I say pointblank. "Some prick was in Molly's house, Dillon."

I've been holding it together by the skin of my teeth, but I'm mad as hell.

Dillon sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. "I need you to keep it together, man. I can't have two of you running around like you've got fucking blood feuds right now."

"Then we need to find our burglar and our arsonist soon because I'm not making any promises." I know Emmett won't either. If he feels for his girl a tenth of what I feel for Molly, nothing is going to stop him from finding the prick who put her at risk.

"Yeah, I know." Dillon shuffles through a stack of papers on his desk. "I may hav—"

My phone rings, cutting him off. I pull it out of my pocket, intending to silence it, only to see my dad's picture flashing on the screen. I've been waiting on his call all damn day. I asked him to help get Molly in at the FBI. If anyone can make it happen, he can.

"Shit. Hold that thought," I mutter to Dillon before swiping to answer. "Hey, Pops."

"Hey, kid. You busy?"

"Little bit. What's up?"

"I won't keep you," he promises. "Just wanted to see if your girl can be in Houston next week. I spoke to the SAC over there. He wants to meet with her about an analyst position."

"Shit. No kidding?"

"No kidding." I hear the smile in my dad's voice. "He'll make time for her. All she has to do is call him to set it up."

"Jesus." I stride forward, snatching a pen and a Post-it from Dillon's desk to take down his number for her. She's either going to kick my ass or love me for this. Not sure which, but she deserves this shot. If some fucking recruiter is standing in her way, fuck him. "What's his number?"

My dad gives it to me, and I quickly jot it down while Dillon watches.

"Thank you," I murmur, grateful as hell that he came through on this. "I owe you for this. I'll make sure Molly calls him."

"Tell her good luck for me." He pauses. "Let me know when to bring your mom out. You know she'll be fucking dying to meet her as soon as she finds out about her."

I chuckle, shoving a hand through my hair. "Yeah, I know. Give me some time to work some shit out here, and then I'll call her." My gaze flickers to Dillon. "We'll have a giant fucking wedding. That should perk her right up."

"Yeah, that'll do it." My dad laughs. "Behave, kid."

"Always."

"You're so full of shit."

He's right. I am full of shit. But he taught me everything I know, so the joke's on him.

"I'll let you get back to it," he says. "Love you. Call your mother. Soon."

"I will. Love you." I hang up, exhaling a breath. Fuck. In one week, Molly's life might change forever. Her big dream may finally come true. I hope like hell that it does. What she's doing now is needed and necessary. She's damn good at it, but it isn't what she wants to do with her life. It isn't where she's meant to be. That brain of hers was made for solving crimes.

"What's up?" Dillon asks, his eyes narrowed on me when I slip my phone and the Post-it into my pocket.

"My dad got Molly a meeting with the SAC at the field office in Houston next week." I meet his gaze, holding it. "Their goddamn recruiter has been holding her back."

"Fucking why?" he asks.

"Some bullshit about her not fitting the mold. Like you need to be a goddamn size two to do the job," I growl. I've been in law enforcement since the minute I turned twenty-one. In that time, I've worked with guys three and four times her size—and they had badges and guns. She's too smart to be held back because some prick has an issue with a beautiful, thick woman. It pisses me off that's the world we still live in. But it is still the world we live in.

I get why she was so fucking hesitant to let me in and trust me. I live in this world the same as she does. I know how it is. I see the same shit she does. But unlike her, I don't have to face the same bullshit every day.

Women may have carved out a spot for themselves in law enforcement, but they've had to fight and claw the whole goddamn way. And while they were doing it, guys like her dad were fucking around while guys like him turned a blind eye, holding them to a different set of standards. It isn't fair or just. It never has been.

If I can make it easier for her, I will. Until the playing field is equal, I'll do whatever I have to do to ensure she has the same shot a motherfucker like me has. That's what I was taught. Guys like my dad, guys like Dillon…they're the ones who taught it to me. Those are the guys I aspire to be.

And guys like her recruiter? Well, they never deserved a badge in the first goddamn place. They can get fucked with a pole. And it'll be women like Molly—fierce, beautiful, intelligent Molly—lubing up the damn pole when their number is up. Guys like me? Well, we'll be the ones helping brace the damn thing for insertion.

"You better hurry the fuck up and get a ring on her finger," Dillon says. "Because there's no goddamn way Dean Santa Cruz is going to pass her up once he meets her."

"Oh, I'm aware," I mutter dryly. "I'm working on it."

"Better work faster." He smirks at me, amusement glinting in his eyes. "She didn't seem to like you all that much this morning."

"She likes me just fine, motherfucker." I flip him off. What? He may be my boss, but he's still a dick. "Can you get out of my business and start worrying about your job? Last I checked, you were still the sheriff. That means you should be solving crime, not gossiping about my love life."

He laughs at me before tossing a file across the desk to me. "Like I was trying to tell you, dick," he says, "I've been here all day while you were sleeping. I may have a lead."

"Who? What lead?" I scowl at him. "Why the fuck didn't you lead with that?"

"I like watching your eye twitch." He shrugs. "Makes me feel better about the fact that I can't threaten to shoot you since you were actually shot."

I choose to ignore him, flipping open the file instead. "A realtor?" My brows furrow. "Molly is confident she saw a man in her house, Dillon. This is a woman."

"Not her," he says. "She has a son. Blue eyes, dark hair. The receptionist says he's a bit of a troublemaker."

"A bit?" I cock a brow. "He's breaking into houses, for fuck's sake."

"I was feeling generous. The receptionist said he can be a real pain in the ass when he wants to be." He meets my gaze. "And he started hanging around more about the time the break-ins started. Want to go round him up and find out where he was this morning?"

"Uh, fuck yeah, I do," I growl, snapping the folder closed. If this is the prick who was in Molly's house, I want him in cuffs and off the streets. Now. Maybe then I'll be able to sleep. Because I sure as shit didn't sleep today.