“Mmm.” Officer God didn’t buy my winking and air-kissing excuses. “No static.”
“Huh?”
“Your hair.”
“Oh, right.” I flipped it to the side, letting blonde strands fall over my shoulder. I reeked of the StrawberryNet’s Ultra Mega Super-duper Hold Extreme Hairspray I’d used. Lord, that stuff smelled cheap because it was.
Over the years, I’d learned the more inexpensive the hair product was the better it worked. That can be said for shampoo and conditioner too, hence no static from my helmet, a biker girl’s beauty tip.
“Alexandra Easton.” He said my name and studied my driver’s license.
“That’s me. Everyone calls me Lex.”
Ever since those “Alexandra the Great” articles had appeared in the papers during my childhood I’d requested to shorten my name.
Hearing Officer God say it almost made my name sound sexy. There was no raised influx in his voice, which usually meant he’d identified me as being the daughter of the world’s most famous couple.
I sorta loved that. I can’t remember the last time someone didn’t know of my folks. Like ever.
“Tomorrow is your birthday.” He smiled. “A big one.”
OMFG! Officer God’s grin was utterly heart-melting.
“Eighteen. Can’t wait. My BFF, VBF, and GBF are going to Paris with me tonight. We’re all on the red-eye.” Note, I didn’t say my BF. That’s because I sure as fudge didn’t have one anymore. And Kelle wasn’t going to Paris with us. He could use the first class ticket I’d bought him for a one-way trip to hell.
“Eh?”
“My friends. Two of them are in the limo.”
“Gotcha. I turned twenty-one a few weeks ago. Milestone birthdays spent with close friends are cool.”
“Happy Birthday. Did you do anything fun?”
“Started this new job.” He said proudly and padded his name badge.
“Is your last name really God?”
From the deepest part of him came a chuckle. Baritone, his laughter sent a warm fuzzy to the center of my stomach as if I’d eaten a cinnamon red hot candy.
He scratched his chin for a second then replied, “No. Ford is my first name. Alessandro-Vollero-Gotti is my last. God is short for Gotti. The NYPD didn’t have enough room on my badge. They cut it short.”
It was as if Officer Gotti and I weren’t on the side of the highway. No siree. We were on a date. At least in my head, having a romantic dinner, sharing a plate of spaghetti bolognese and getting to know one another better. Humor me here, people. It’s my birthday weekend, okay?
I studied his uniform. No pins or ribbons decorating him with accomplishment. He was as he said, new to the force. Wrinkled with deep squares as if it had come out of the wrapper, his uniform probably hadn’t even been washed yet, let alone ironed.
Whoever had ordered his uniform should’ve put in for a bigger size. It appeared almost uncomfortable. I wanted to rip it off him. He was gonna get his Hulk on any second now.
I don’t know if was the sun, or the fact that he was the hottest cop I’d ever seen, but for a second as he talked, I couldn’t hear him. It was as if someone had stuffed cotton in my ears. My mind was in another place. I sat back on my bike, letting Vamp’s engine hum between my legs. Nipples hard, the little hairs on the back of my neck saluted.
For a few seconds I fantasized…
Officer Gotti pressed his hard body up against me as I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my fingers over his defined chest.“Lex,” he said to me in a flirtatious voice. “You are one sexy woman.”
“I know.” I replied more confidently than I am in real life because this was my hot-cop daydream. Hello! In my head I’m a drop dead gorgeous diva with the hips of Shakira and the face of Charlize Theron. Besides, regardless of what a woman looks like, if she’s confident in what she has to offer, she’s attractive. At least that’s what Mrs. Pringle, my gym teacher, used to say at Avon Porter.
My right leg came up, sitting sidesaddle on the bike in a Roberto Cavalli leather mini-skirt. I’d had a wardrobe change, fresh application of lip gloss and a spritz of my Diorama perfume too.
He stood in front of me. My knees touched.
“Spread ‘em.” Officer Gotti demanded.
Sweet and innocent, I bit down on my pointer finger and shook my head. “I don’t know what I did wrong to be pulled over.”
Inside I hungered for him to violate me. Take my Lady V.
“Do as you’re told.”
“And if I don’t, Officer?”
“I’ll be forced to restrain you.”
“Restrain away. I’m not spreading.” Glancing down at the bulge swelling in his pants, he seemed turned on by me not giving in so easily.”
Before I knew it, the handcuffs came out. His strapping arms came wide, and he hugged me. Reaching for my hands, Ford cuffed my wrists behind my back.
Clink! Clink! They pinched my skin. He had me under lock and key now.
There I sat on Vamp, facing him. Merciless! I friggin’ loved it.
“You know damn well what you did and why I had to pull you over. Now you must pay for your crime.” Officer Gotti grabbed my knees and exposed my panties. His erection rubbed against my thighs, sending a pulsing urge to jump on top of him. But I didn’t. I played cool as if I’d done this a million times before.
His huge, square hands framed my face as he kissed me. His touch was rough and callous. But he was trying to be easy on me. I could take it. A thick, wet tongue danced in and out of my mouth as he unbuttoned my blouse.
Caressing my breasts, he kissed my neck and complimented me.
Floating into the summer’s white fluffy clouds, I wanted to hold onto his python arms and balance myself. Simply euphoric, that’s how I’d describe this feeling. With my hands cuffed behind my back, it caused my nipples to distend. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them.
Neither could he.
“Miss Easton, you know what happens to erect nipples, don’tcha?”
“You put tape over ‘em?” I said coyly.
“Never!”
“Then what?” I asked, as he tugged on one.
“I tease. I play. I—” He pinched my nipple.
My spine straightened.
In a unique way Ford exerted control while remaining gentle all the same.