Relenting (Dirty Cops #2)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Bentley

T he limousine pulls to a stop on the side of the road. Not sure what the hell a car like that is doing out in these parts, but it’s probably just someone passing through who happened to take a wrong turn and now they’re trying to figure out which way they need to go, and how far off the beaten path they’ve driven. It’s dark, and there ain’t no streetlights in this neck of the woods.

My cruiser goes completely unnoticed as the driver gets out, never once looking in my direction as he comes around and opens the rear passenger door. He stands rigid like he’s got a damn stick up his ass while he waits for the person to exit the vehicle. Maybe someone needs to take a piss, or maybe the passenger is carsick and needs some fresh air. The look on the driver’s face never wavers. Cold arrogance oozes from his pointed nose and stiff upper lip.

Finally, someone climbs out. Someone with long wavy dark hair, wearing a tight black leather skirt, showing off the sexy curve of her waist and her long legs. Legs that were made to be wrapped around a man’s hips—or shoulders.

Fuck. Who the hell is she? Is she some kind of celebrity? An actress or singer? Damn. She has to be some kind of star. From the back of her she looks like the type of girl that would star in every man’s fantasies. I wonder what the front of her looks like. I sit forward, straining to see out my front dash. Thankful the lights of the limo are bright enough for me to see her killer figure. Goddamn, she has a fine ass. Wide and plump. Juicy enough to grab onto. Fuck.

Turn, baby girl. Turn around and let me see your face . I want to see if it matches the rest of you.

She’s still facing the open door, talking with someone inside. The idea of a man being in there has my knuckles clenching my steering wheel. Why the hell I’m feeling jealous over a girl I don’t even know is a fucking mystery to me. I need to get my shit under control. Hell, maybe my sister is right and I need to get out and date more. ‘Cause I haven’t even seen this girl’s face yet and my cock is stiffening in my pants, ready to go over and slap my cuffs on her just to get her away from whoever she’s with.

Her shoulders suddenly grow tense, locking mine up at the sight of her discomfort. Something’s wrong. She moves away from the limo and the driver gives her a disgusted look before he closes the door and turns, walking back around to his side of the vehicle. He climbs in and then the limo pulls back out onto the road and takes off, leaving the girl stranded on the side of the road. Alone. In the middle of the fucking night. In the middle of fucking nowhere. What in the actual fuck is happening? And thank God I was here, because a girl dressed like that, with a body like hers, would get hauled off if someone drove by and saw her.

She starts walking down the road. Her head shaking like she’s pissed. I’m startin’ to think she had an argument with whomever was in that vehicle with her. Maybe she and her rich boyfriend got into a fight and just broke up. The thought has me smiling. I’m more than happy to swoop in and save the day. Be her hero. The dick she was with sure as hell doesn’t deserve her. Leaving her out here all alone. Fucker. I should chase his ass down and arrest him. Throw the rich son of a bitch in jail for putting a girl in harm’s way. I don’t care if she broke his heart, you don’t leave a female on the side of the road, night or day.

I slowly pull up behind her, not wanting to give the girl a scare. Finally, she turns, sensing my approach. Her hand going up to block her eyes from my blinding headlights. Me, I’m being blinded by her face. Hot damn, she’s stunning. A goddess. Her eyes, cheeks, chin, nose, lips—every part is perfection. Every part is gorgeous. My gaze travels lower, checking out the cleavage she’s sporting over the top of her low-cut shirt, my mouth watering at the sight. My balls constricted by my uniform as they swell at the view.

The tight shirt she’s got on hugs her like a glove, showing off every incredible curve of her hourglass figure. Damn. From the back she’s a ten. From the front… No words can describe just how beautiful she is. I thought she was an actress when she climbed out of the limo, but I’m starting to think she’s a model. One curvy, sexy-as-hell model.

I put my cruiser in park and step out of my vehicle, approaching slowly. Mainly, so I can take an extra moment to soak in every inch of the beauty before me. The closer I get, the stiffer my cock grows. She’s even more beautiful up close. Cherry red lips. Dark, soulful eyes. Silky long hair. Goddamn, never seen such flawless perfection. And the leather skirt she’s got hugging her lush hips makes me think she’s a bit wild, that she has a streak of naughty in her veins.

I swallow down my hunger and step up to her, finally blocking the bright light obstructing her vision. Her body tenses as soon as she sees me, which doesn’t surprise me. It’s a normal reaction. People don’t love cops. Usually, being approached by an officer isn’t a good sign. But in this case, I’m not trying to arrest the girl. Although, visions of cuffing her and putting her in the back of my cruiser are definitely at the forefront of my mind. But I’d be hauling her back to my place, not down to the station.

Unfortunately, that option is off the table right now since I don’t even know her name, or where she’s from, or who the fucker is that just stranded her here. For all I know, it could be her husband and they just had a marital spat. And in a few minutes, he may come to his senses and turn back around for her. But by then, it will be too late. She won’t be here. I’m going to be giving her a ride and making sure she gets home safely. I also plan on talking to her about how she should never be with anyone who would abandon her in the middle of the night, out in the middle of nowhere. Fucker should have his dick cut off for pulling that shit because he is not a man.

“You want to tell me what a girl like you is doing out here in the middle of the night? And dressed like that?” I gesture toward her bare legs. It’s fucking cold out and she doesn’t even have a coat on. Another fact that has me wanting to go track down the limo and give the driver and his rich fuck of a boss a beatdown. I don’t care if this girl cheated on him or did something to warrant his anger, you still don’t fucking leave a woman alone on the side of the road. Ever.

Thankfully, I caught the plate on the limousine, so when I get back to the station, I’ll be looking up exactly who abandoned the beauty in front of me, the one who just crossed her arms over her chest and is now glaring me down. Don’t think she’s too happy with the way I just spoke to her. I get that my tone was a bit harsh, but I’m having a hard time controlling my emotions right now. I’m not usually wound this tight—staying cool and calm under pressure is what makes me a great cop—but right now, I’m on edge.

“Dressed like what, Officer? A whore?” Her snide tone has me stiffening. That’s not what I meant by my question. I’d never mistake this beauty for being a sex worker. She’s too fucking perfect. But now I’m understanding what flared her anger.

“I was refer—”

“You’re absolutely right,” she cuts me off, her words nearly puttin’ me on my ass. “I’m a whore who gets paid for sex. Actually, I just got paid to suck a guy off.”

What the hell? She’s a prostitute? There’s no way. She looks like she belongs on a damn movie screen or walking a runway. Her face belongs on a highway billboard, not turning tricks in the back of a limo. But as I tick off the facts, it’s starting to all make sense. Her being dropped off in the middle of nowhere at three o’clock in the morning. The driver giving her a disgusted look. This must be her pickup point. A remote location where no one will get caught. Her car is probably parked up the road.

Fuck.

This girl should not be putting her life at risk like that. She could end up getting raped or killed. Or hauled off and sold to some sex-trafficking ring. Not to mention that sex work is illegal in our state. She could face up to three to five years in prison.

“Do you have a pimp?” The question barks from my lips. If she does, whoever the fucker is will be getting the book thrown at him. Or better yet, I’ll be calling in a favor from Grit and the Savage Knights. Let them give the dirtbag the justice he truly deserves. There has to be some kind of manipulative mastermind pulling the strings here, because a girl like her doesn’t need to sell her body for cash. She’d have a line of sugar daddies wrapped around the corner, begging to give her anything she wants in exchange for her attention. Hell, I’d be begging to be her daddy, too.

“A pimp?” She throws her head back and laughs, but the sound is void of amusement. “No, Officer.” Her head rises back up, voice so thick with venom. The coldness in her eyes gives me a chill. “This is all on me. I’m responsible for my choices. He calls and I come running. Every time.”

Her answer has me thrown. Sounds like she has a pimp to me. He calls and she runs to do his bidding. What I want to know is why this girl is so desperate she needs to turn tricks for cash. The beauty in front of me should never have to stoop to such dangerous measures in order to survive.

“And what is the name of that man?”

She shakes her head. “Sorry, Officer. I don’t kiss and tell. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late and I’d like to get home.”

Not a fucking chance in hell. There’s no way I’m letting her go anywhere. Not until she gives me the name of the one she’s referring to. And definitely not until I’m convinced that her job as an escort—or whatever she calls herself—is over. Which means, it’s time to put the fear of God in her. Haul her ass down to the station and show her exactly what happens to girls like her. I won’t be pressing charges and booking her, but she’s not going to know that. She and I are going to have a little talk. I want to know exactly why she’s selling her body for money. Whatever her reason is, we’re going to change it. I’m going to help her get out of this shitty situation. Hell, she can come live with me if she needs to.

“You’re under arrest.” I move in, pulling my cuffs from my back pocket. “You have the right to…”

“Wait, what? You can’t arrest me. I wasn’t being serious.”

I shake my head. Great, here come the fucking lies. She’s backpedaling now to get herself out of this mess. Only thing is, I’m not letting her go until I’m reassured she’s not going to put herself in this position again. She’s lucky the “John” she was just with let her go, that he didn’t keep her locked inside his house as his personal plaything. Hell, I’m a man of the law and that temptation is like a blade trying to slice away my good conscience.

Her protest goes ignored as I move to her back and pull her arms toward me, taking my cuffs out from my pocket. A prickling sensation runs down my spine as I lock the first one in place. Restraining her is making my cock weep. Something about this girl has snapped the lock on the dark side of my desires. Thoughts and needs I keep buried deep down are creeping to the surface. Rarely do I even let them come to the forefront of my mind when I have my dick in hand, but this girl is making me weak.

“Wait! No! You can’t do this. I’m not a prostitute. I didn’t mean it.”

“You have the right to remain silent.” I ignore her protests and my criminal thoughts as I start reading her her rights. She continues to demand I take the cuffs off, swearing this is all just a misunderstanding. That she didn’t mean the words that just came from her mouth, but it’s too late. She already made her confession. And now it’s time to get her to confess who she’s working for and who she was with tonight because I intend to haul his ass in, too. Clearly, he said something to upset her before they hightailed it out of here, and for that alone he deserves to pay.

“Please. I’m not really a prostitute. I was upset, that’s why I said that. You just hit a nerve with your question and I snapped. But I was being sarcastic. Haven’t you heard of sarcasm?”

Sarcasm? Didn’t sound like sarcasm to me. Sounded like I struck a nerve, earning myself a confession.

“Then why did you climb out of a limousine in the middle of the night, looking like a…” I search for the right word because telling her she looks like a walking wet dream would be crossing the line.

“Whore?” she volunteers, the sneer back on her gorgeous face.

I shake my head. “No. I was going to say looking like a sex goddess but realized I was out of line.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

That pert tone has my palms twitching. Now that she’s cuffed it’d be real easy to bend her over the hood of my car and spank the sass right out of her. Damn, I need to quit thinking like that or I’m liable to break the law.

“No.” I get right in her face, struck in my chest by her beauty, tempted by her plump, pursed lips. “A sex goddess is someone who is so fucking sexy, her looks have the power to bring a man to his knees and worship at her feet. Make him want to dedicate his life to fulfilling her dreams so he can be granted her attention. A woman so beautiful, the man standing before her believes you’ve been sent from another world, and that if I sink to my knees right now and flip that skirt up, I’ll find my way to heaven.”

Her intake of air, along with the blush forming on her cheeks, has my dick trying to bust through my zipper. Those gorgeous brown eyes of hers have loosened around the edges, now looking a bit heavy lidded. Damn. Maybe I should turn into a dirty cop after all. Sink to my knees and make her an offer: a lick of her juicy cunt in exchange for her freedom. By the way she’s staring at my mouth, I don’t think she’d have a problem with me paying homage to her pussy right now.

The thought has me yanking her forward, dragging her quickly to my car. I need to get her tucked safely inside the back where I can’t put my hands on her. Simply holding her arm is putting my nerves on edge. My cock is as stiff as the gun in my holster and would give anything to go off between her legs.

I press her up against the side of my cruiser, needing to follow standard protocol and do a quick pat down before I place her inside, but I don’t trust myself. My palms are practically shaking as I reach out to run them down her sides, needing to search for a knife or a can of mace. Hoping that in her line of work, she had half a mind to come protected.

The moment my hands come in contact with her, the restraints on my morality start to sever. I run my fingers down her arms, the thin material barely a barrier between me and her skin. My teeth sink into my lower lip, trying to hold back my groan as I slide over her curvy hips, staring at her voluptuous peach as I run my fingers down her thighs. Fuck me. I’m about to barter my soul for a taste of her ripe ass.

“Really?” Her voice pulls my attention back up to the surface of my sanity, and I run my hands along the back of her skirt, so tempted to dip below the waistline and give her a firm squeeze. “You really think I’m packing heat in this outfit.” My fingers grip onto her sides, fighting the urge to tug her against me and show her what I’m packing between my legs. She’s definitely packing heat. Her tits and ass are so fucking hot. God, I love me some curves. And hers are nice and thick.

“I think this is just your way of getting your hands on me, Officer.” There’s a rasp to her voice now and it’s restricting my balls. “I think you just wanted to cop a feel.” She turns, giving me a look over her shoulder. Her cheeks are now flushed with heat and her eyes are no longer cutting me with anger. I’m beginning to think the attraction is mutual. That this undeniable pull, this uncontrollable need is hitting her too. I can’t explain it. Can’t make any rational sense over how I could feel so strongly over a stranger, but it’s there. “Are you a little hard up, Officer? Is this how you get your kicks? Falsely arresting young women and taking advantage of them?”

I turn her in my arms, my eyes narrowing in on hers. Damn, she’s too pretty for words. And mine barely make it past gritted teeth. “Believe me, baby girl, if I wanted to feel you up, I wouldn’t have to force the issue. I’d have you so hungry for it, you’d be on your knees begging me to fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

Her throat muscles constrict as she tries to swallow back the moan, but the flicker of heat burning in her eyes gives her away. I’m positive if I look down, I’ll see her nipples tight, poking right through her shirt. Fuck. Restraint is my middle name, but restraining this girl to my bed and bending her to my will is all I can think about.

“Are you claiming you don’t want to feel me up?” she purrs, hitting me right in the cock with need, seduction weaved into every sultry word. Her eyes drop between us and narrow in on my hands. Hands that have made their way up to the curve of her breasts. My thumbs sliding over her taught nipples. My moral compass having taken a nosedive into the gutter. I’m now on par with the criminals I lock behind bars, yet as my fingers pluck at her swollen peaks, I don’t seem to give a fuck. All I care about is the fact that she’s not protesting my criminal behavior. Her chest has arched itself closer into my touch, and soft little pants are rasping from her lips.

“Just checking for weapons,” I groan, circling the pad of my thumb over each perky tip, fighting the urge to give each a tight pinch.

“Liar,” she breathes as her head lifts from her shoulders, her heavy eyes now boring into mine. “You’re just another dirty cop.” Her face moves in as she rises up on her toes, her tempting mouth a featherlight whisper away from my lips. “ But I warn you, Officer. I’m not easily broken.”

Fuck. For the first time since taking my oath, swearing to uphold the law and to protect the innocent, I’m about to commit a crime. I’m about to prove exactly how dirty I am. Break her here and now.

My fingers slowly start their groping path down the front of her waist en route to the button of her skirt. I’m desperate to do a strip search and get a look at the slippery effect I’m having between her legs. I bet her clit is as tight and swollen as her nipples. But when my right hand comes in contact with a large bulge—something tucked into one of her pockets—my mission is thwarted. The officer on duty finally resurfaces and my cock goes back into its holster. There’s a reason I put her in cuffs in the first place. And it wasn’t for her to be at my mercy.

I slip my hand into the material, wondering if I’m about to pull out a bag of cocaine, but instead, a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills is what I find. A chill settles down my spine, reality icier than the frigid night air. She just finished turning a trick, or maybe a few based on the amount of cash she’s carrying. I need to be taking her down to the station and find out who she’s working for and how she got herself into this mess. I don’t need to be fucking the girl up against the side of my vehicle, acting like all the other dirtbags she’s slept with. FUCK. My cock feels like it’s just plunged into an ice bath. This girl needs my help, not another man trying to use her for sex.

“How many men have you fucked tonight?” I flip through the bills, getting angrier as I see how many she has. There has to be at least a few grand here. I’m guessing five. “You know what.” I tuck the evidence into my pocket. “You can answer all my questions down at the precinct. Let’s go.”

It’s time to find out exactly who she’s working for. I want to know why she’s gotten herself tied up into this risky world. Although, from the thick wad of cash, I think I have my answer. And I think I’m understanding the appeal. None of the jobs in town will pay close to what she made in one night. But working as a waitress or as a shopping clerk won’t get her killed or raped.

“I’m not a prostitute,” she starts her protest again. “I was out with my…” She stops, cutting herself off before she can finish that sentence, leaving me more than curious as to what she was about to say. Perhaps a name? “You know what.” Her chin turns tight again, and all the heat she was feeling has been completely iced over. “I don’t owe you an explanation. Take me down to the station, give me my one call, and I’ll handle this myself. You’ll see that you’re wrong and I’ll get to file a complaint against you.”

Yeah, not a chance in hell. She won’t be getting that call until she starts talking. Not a prostitute my ass . Why the hell would she have close to five grand on her person, having just climbed out of a limousine in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night? If all signs don’t point to the truth, then pigs can fucking fly. I tuck her into the back of my cruiser and run my hands down my face. Of all the nights to run into the girl of my dreams, it had to be under these circumstances. Fuck, I have the worst luck when it comes to women.