As a cop, Blake Jordan couldn’t afford to be distracted, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the gorgeous brunette in front of him. The only woman in the Concealed Handgun License Proficiency course he was teaching, she was all soft, feminine curves with long, silky hair and full, pouty lips. Not to mention honey-colored eyes he could just about get lost in. Which made it damn hard to concentrate on his presentation.
Damn, if her eyes didn’t sparkle like gold in the early morning sun coming through the window. Was she wearing colored contacts? The question mystified him half the morning. When they finally took a break, he found himself wandering over to the vending machine where she was standing to get a Coke he didn’t want simply so he could check.
She lifted a brow. “I didn’t realize that many people got concealed carry licenses.”
“A couple hundred people take the course every month. What made you decide to get your permit? Someone hasn’t made you feel threatened, have they?” He grimaced. Why not just add “little lady,” while he was at it? “Sorry. Occupational hazard of being a cop. You have every right to tell me to pound sand.”
She laughed. “There’s no particular reason, but Houston is a lot bigger than it was when I lived here before. I just want to be able to carry if I feel the need.”
Smart move. “It can be a scary place out there sometimes.”
“Yes, it can.” Trista casually looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on his crotch for a moment before their eyes met. “And there’s nothing like getting your hands on a big weapon to make a girl feel all safe and secure.”
Blake almost choked on his soda. Damn. Guess that answered his earlier question about whether she was coming onto him or not. And with a blatant invitation, he’d be
an idiot not to flirt right back.
While that made the boring part of the class a whole hell of a lot less boring — at least for him — it was also a kind of sweet torture. Especially when she did little things that drove him crazy. Like nibble on the top of her pen. Or cross her long legs. And when she leaned forward giving him a glimpse of her perfect cleavage? It was enough to make him groan.
She’d been drooling over the hunky Blake Jordan from the second he’d walked in the classroom. Tall with dark hair, broad shoulders and biceps she couldn’t get both of her hands around, he was definitely put together. And when he talked? She’d never heard such a smooth, sexy voice in her life. It just about made her panties melt off right there in the seat. He was a fantasy come to life. Especially if you had a thing for cops—which she did. Combine that with her complete lack of a social life over the past few months, and it was no surprise she was as hot as a horny rabbit in a frying pan.
She’d never realized how hard it was to look completely incompetent when you weren’t, and had almost given up on her crazy plan a few times. It had to be easier to grab Blake and plant a kiss on him after he issued her license, then tell the big stud she wanted him to bang her until her eyes crossed.
Her pulse quickened as Blake went around to stand in back of her. Without a word, he placed his boot in between her feet, gently nudging them apart. When she automatically spread her legs, he slipped one of his between her thighs to widen her stance. When she’d said she wanted Blake between her legs, this wasn’t what she’d had in mind. Not that she was complaining. She’d take him any way she could get him.
Unable to help herself, she pushed her ass back until she brushed against something firm and unyielding. She was pretty sure it wasn’t his belt buckle.
“Relax your arms some,” he instructed. “Your shoulders are really tense.”
She obeyed, wiggling back a little more as she let her arms relax. This time, her ass definitely met with resistance. If that was his cock she was rubbing up against and not a weapon of another sort, then Blake wasn’t quite as professional as he wanted her to think. Or at least a certain part of his anatomy wasn’t.
Trista relaxed back, subtly rubbing her ass against his erection. Blake didn’t pull away. If anything, he tugged her a little closer. He was trying to seduce her.
When she leaned back against him this time, she gently rotated her ass in blatant invitation. Blake must have approved because he slid his hands down her bare arms until his fingertips brushed the sides of her breasts.
The contact was teasing, questioning, as if he wanted to make sure this was what she wanted.
Man, this was so what she wanted.
As he did that devastating neck-nibble thing again, he popped the clasp on the front of her bra. Oh yeah, she loved a man who could multi-task. She put a round in the dirt a foot in front of the target just as Blake eagerly pushed the cups of her bra aside and captured her breasts. His thumbs and forefingers immediately found her nipples and tweaked them.
Trista moaned. God, that felt so good.
She wanted to say the hell with target practice and strip off her shirt and bra so he could latch his mouth on her aching breasts, but she still had three bullets left. Blake wouldn’t let her get away with not shooting all of them.
She smiled to herself as he dropped his right hand down to join his left at her belt and ripped open the buttons on her jeans.
The slider of her 9mm locked to the rear as she put her last round through the center of the target. Despite being nearly insane with need, she still possessed enough sense to carefully place the empty weapon back on the counter. She immediately tried to turn around in Blake’s embrace so she could rip off his uniform, but her hot cop was having none of that. He grabbed hold of the front of her jeans to keep her still, then slid his hand inside her panties. She whimpered as his finger slid along the wet folds of her pussy. The muted sound reminded her that she still had her earmuffs on—Blake had already taken off his, though when he’d done it, she had no idea. She reached up to tear off her muffs and toss them on the floor.
Blake used his free hand to push her jeans over her hips. She would have helped, but his finger moving in and out of her wetness made that impossible. She had to cling to the counter with both hands to keep from falling to her knees.
Giving him a grin, Trista hopped off the counter and ran over to her purse. It took a bit longer to find her emergency condom than she would have liked, and she was this close to dumping everything on the floor when her fingers finally closed over the foil packet. Holding it up like a present, she slowly sauntered back over to where Blake was waiting. She started to step over the pile of clothes on the floor, only to stop as a flash of silver caught her attention. Unable to resist, she bent down and helped herself to the pair of handcuffs from the leather pouch on his equipment belt.
She got to her feet, a condom in one hand and his cuffs dangling from the fingers of the other. “Think you can figure out how to use these?”
His mouth quirked. “I’m a trained law enforcement professional. What do you think?”
She smiled. “I think I can’t wait to be your prisoner.”
Buy it at All Romance eBooks!
SIGN UP & GET A FREE BOOK!