“Stark, stop,” I order immediately—against my dick’s better judgment.
“Rule number one, you can’t stop a game that hasn’t started yet. If you want me to stopafterthe game has started, you say so, and I will. Promise.” She looks up at me with a viciously sweet smile, her thick lashes fluttering innocently. I grind my molars, totally helpless at the hands of Chloe Stark, and annoyingly not at all mad about it as I stare down at her.
I inhale a sharp breath when she flicks her tongue against the head of my dick, lapping up the precum that’s dripping from the tip. I let my head fall back, face toward the ceiling as she grabs the base of my dick and draws it toward her mouth, her tongue circling the head in a tantalizingly slow orbit.
My eyes fall closed, and all I can see is her on her bed, legs spread as she grinds against her vibrator and cries my name as she comes. I can’t help but grind my dick into her hand, her fist tightening as she takes me in her warm mouth, all the way to the back of her throat.
“Fuck,” I groan. The energy coursing through my body with nowhere to go forces my hands into fists as my arms stay outstretched in front of me against the wall. She gags at the end of my cock, suctioning her cheeks and making my legs quiver as she drags her mouth from base to tip. She loosens her mouth off me with a slobbery pop, peering up at me with red, puffy lips to match the indents still on her face.
“Do you want me to stop, detective?”
“Keep going,” I demand, meeting her playful gaze with mine. She smirks, returning her mouth to my body with a look of pride on her face.
I rock my hips into her face as she takes my full length over and over again, and a minute later, she’s lifting her hand in my direction. It takes me a second to realize she’s holding the keys to my handcuffs. I bend my wrist in the direction of the keys, ripping them from her hand and trying to focus on getting myself unlatched instead of the feel of her warm, wet tongue on the underside of my cock.
The cuffs finally loosen and I let them and the keys clatter to the ground, flattening one hand against the wall while using my other hand to unwind the hair tie she has looped around her bun. Her hair falls loose and I tangle my fingers into her blonde waves, gripping a chunk in my hand and meeting her mouth thrust for thrust as she hollows her cheeks around my dick.
That little voice in my head that’s usually very active, telling me that Chloe’s dangerous, that she’s a psychopathic serial killer, that she’s hiding something—it’s no match for the voice in my head that’s telling me maybe she’s just a little off her rocker. That she looks sexy as fuck with her lips wrapped around my cock.
“You look so fucking pretty,” I tell her through clenched teeth, completely entranced by the spit dripping out of the corners of her mouth, how her red lipstick becomes more smeared with every thrust. She moans at my words, the vibrations from her throat reverberating against my skin.
She alternates between taking all of me to the base and focusing on the head of my dick with her hand wrapped tight around me until my legs start shaking and I start moaning, pulsing my come into her mouth as her pace slows and her grip loosens.
I jerk against her mouth as she pops herself off the tip, pulls herself to standing, and spits my come into the sink next to us.
She grabs the keys to her Bug and tosses them into the air in my direction.
She drags her thumb across the edge of her lip with a smirk, cleaning her smeared lipstick. “Would you drive yourself back? I’m beat.”
She turns and enters her house through the garage door, leaving me standing in her garage with my pants around my ankles and a dying hard-on, completely dazed about what just happened.
9
Colin
“Why the fuck has Chloe Stark’s Bug been parked outside all night?” Captain Barrett barrels through the department doors like a man on a goddamn mission, asking the entire room his question but narrowing his eyes in my direction, specifically.
“How do you know it’s Chloe’s?” Lucy asks. Lucy wasn’t here when the whole Black Widow debacle went down, but that story was front page news across the country throughout most of Caroline’s trial. If you didn’t hear about the Black Widow murder trial, you were living under a rock.
“Because no one else in town drives a car the same color as my granddaughter’s favorite goddamn Powerpuff Girl.” He makes his way to my desk, tossing a piece of paper in front of me. “And this parking ticket has her name on it.”
Shit.
Chloe texted me last night—how she got my number is beyond me—and said she’d have Maeve or Stella bring her into town this morning and pick her car up. The only reason I parked it in the spot she’d pulled upto last night is because I knew the captain had a doctor’s appointment and wouldn’t be in until the afternoon. And here he is. And apparently, there her car still sits.
I wave the piece of paper in my hand. “I don’t know what this has to do with me.”
“My office,” he growls, turning from my desk. “Now!”
I clench my jaw and push off my desk, following him. I’m by no means cowering, even though I probably should be considering he threatened to take my badge last time I got too involved with Chloe. If he knew her lips were wrapped around my cock less than twenty-four hours ago, my badge would be a burnt pile of shiny metal by now.
Of course, I didn’t ask her to blow me. At least not at first.
“Shut the door,” Captain Barrett orders from behind his desk, “and sit the fuck down.”
I do as he says, pressing the door closed and settling into the chair across from him. “I really don’t know wha—”
“Renee saw you leave with Chloe last night,” he says evenly. He points to his office door behind me, enunciating every word as he speaks. “She saw you cross the parking lot, get in her car, and drive away with her.”
