Page 6 of House of Wolves
Pig Meat
Ihaveself-respect.Iswear.But as I order a large chocolate milkshake and fries from the drive-through window over the lap of Officer Straw—Jeremy Straw—I question if my feminist ideals about equality have brought me too close to the sun. When he suggested this fast-food car date, I should have requested more, but I can’t be too picky. I am only doing this to get information from him.
“I’m so glad you called,” Jeremy says before shoving a handful of fries in his mouth, unaware of the chocolate smeared near the corner of his lip.
I take a sip of my milkshake, studying him in his navy blue uniform. His tight shaved head, his muscular form, the blocky set of his jaw—he’s attractive, no doubt, but his looks only carry him so far. I wish we had met up at a bar or a restaurant where I could order a drink. I like him a hell of a lot better with alcohol swimming through my veins.
I smile, remembering my mission, even if he seems pleased under my scrutinizing gaze. “Yeah, I’ve missed hanging out. I’ve just been so busy.”
He nods, staring out at the dark expanse of woods on the other side of his windshield. We’re parked in his cop car at the far end of an abandoned parking lot near the Burger Blast. “I get it. We’re so short-staffed at the station. That’s why I could only meet up during my shift.”
Perfect. He’s bringing up work. Now, it won’t seem weird when I question him. I reach over, running my long, red fingernails over the stubble on his head. He leans into it, closing his eyes. Ugh, men are so easy. They’re like literal puppy dogs. All they need is for you to scratch their balls and fill their bellies, and they’ll roll over.
“Why has the station been so busy? Anything unusual?” I lean closer so my breath tickles his ear. My questioning is a little on the nose—especially considering he knows I’m a reporter, but he’s lost in my touch. He leans against the headrest, eyes closed, and lips parted. “Same old, same old,” he replies.
Well, shit.I’m not here for same old, same old.
“Oh, boring,” I say in a whiny tone. Maybe he’ll offer more if he thinks it can impress me.
He chuckles. “I wouldn’t say it’s boring.”
I lean in closer, crawling over the middle console so my rouged lips are near his ear. “Captured any psychopaths recently?”
His eyes open, and he turns to me, grabbing the back of my neck. “You girls always love to hear the exciting details.”
Yes, perfect. I need him to think of me as a regular thrill-seeking girl. Honestly, he’s probably forgotten that I’m a reporter, but I don’t mind. Not in the slightest because now, hopefully, he won’t have his guard up and will give me the information I’m searching for.
I lean my weight onto one elbow, bringing my other hand to his chest. He’s wearing a thick vest, but I press hard, slowly lowering my hand. “What can I say? I could never do your job. Putting myself in the line of danger every day to defend the innocent? It’s noble but scary. I bet it’s so exciting, though.” I might be laying on the act a little thick, but with my hand nearing his slacks, I bet the words seem like the perfect caress to his ego.
He shrugs, his eyes droop. “It has its exciting days, and it has its days like this, sitting alone in a cop car waiting for something to happen.”
I trace the thick outline of his cock under his belt. He hisses. “Oh, so is this a boring day for you at the office?”
He smiles, his teeth white and straight. “This is an exception.” His breath is heavy, and I toy with his outline. I can’t deny I’m enjoying playing with him—watching him melt into my touch, all while wearing his uniform in a place I’m not supposed to be. Sure, I’m doing this for the greater good, but it doesn’t hurt that Straw has a massive cock and a pretty face to look at while he breathes into me. “Oh, so you don’t usually have women in your cop car?”
I mean it as a flirty probe, but Straw tenses, pulling away from my lips to study me. “I don’t…”
I lay my hand on his chest. “I’m only joking.”
His concern melts, and he smiles, a stupid, boyish, charming smile. I bet he’s gotten away with murder with it. “Oh, okay.” He leans in, pressing his lips against mine and pushing his tongue into me. It’s sloppy and desperate, but I can’t deny that it’s nice. It’s been a while since an attractive man has kissed me. I’m not here to make out with him. In fact, I explicitly told everyone I could get information without sleeping around, but I’m not the kind of girl to deprive myself of delicious man meat when it’s thrown at me.
I kiss him back, my hand returning to his rock-hard body, trailing to the warm heat between his legs. He pulls away from my lips, spreading his legs wide and working at his belt buckle. The kissing didn’t last long. I’d hope he’d touch me more before pulling his dick out, although the thought of blowing a cop in his patrol car sends a flush of liquid to my core that probably won’t get attended to. Straw isn’t the most generous lover, but I’m in a mood and a woman who loves gobbling some dick, even if I don’t get the favor returned.
He springs free, hard and long, only visible from the light offered by the full moon. He brings his lips back to me, kissing me hungrily. I appreciate he doesn’t just sit there and watch me until I feel so inclined to take him in my mouth. That always kills the mood. He’s a fucking great kisser. He nips at my lips, tasting as if he doesn’t care about displaying any reserve, as if he’s so into this and doesn’t mind showing it. It makes me eager to please, so I rub my palm over a dollop of the precum formed at his tip. He moans into my mouth as I roll my hand down his length, luxuriating in the feel of his velvety skin in my hand.
“Fuck, Carmen,” he says, pulling away from my lips and resting his forehead against mine—his eyes clamp shut as if to restrain himself. It’s hot—all of this. The fact that he could get insomuch trouble if we were discovered only makes me wetter. Why haven’t I tried to live out this fantasy sooner?
I pull away, leaning over his lap. He sits back, too ready to have my lips on his cock. I grab his base with one hand, and with the other, I find the heat underneath my skirt. I’m not embarrassed to get myself off. I’m slick, and my fingers slide through me easily. I moan over his dick before placing a soft kiss on his tip.
“Fuck, Carmen. You’re always so good at this.”
I haven’t even started, but I appreciate the encouragement. I roll my lips over him, taking him in slowly to build the anticipation. He runs his hands through my hair, working his strong fingers against my scalp. I’d rather feel his fingers in my cunt, but this is nice too. I strum away at myself, circling my clit gently as I take him deeper.
“Oh, God,” he moans with a hiss.
I work faster on both of us, bobbing up and down as his hold on my hair grows tighter, less scratching and more pulling. I fucking love it, actually. I rub my clit harder and faster, growing closer to my edge. A thought bubbles in my brain. Wasn’t I here to find out about the kidnappings? Wouldn’t it be a better idea to find out information before sucking his dick so I had something to tempt him with? Oops. I can’t go back now.
I grab his balls, feeling them clench in my hand as I take him deeper. I slow my tempo as my orgasm washes over me, and I moan with his cock still deep in my mouth. He sputters into me, cum coating my throat. I flinch, shocked by the sudden burst. I thought that the break in tempo would have held him off more so I could prepare myself, but he must have gotten off from the sight of me coming with his dick in my mouth.
