Hung

“What’s up?” I come to a stop when moving another inch would put my steel-toes on top of his shiny, hi-gloss loafers. Leaving my footprint there would practically be charitable of me because then his ass will have a nice keepsake of his time with us.

“Deputy Thad Hill,” the Douche announces in self-satisfied tones. This is apparently my cue to fall down and worship, or at least show him the kind of respect I’d give my president or commanding officer. He must have the world’s smallest dick, given the amount of compensating he’s doing. I, on the other hand, know I’m hung. God’s been over-generous in the dick department, and so I don’t need to get into a pissing contest here.

The Douche then proceeds to trot out a badge case, just in case I have any doubts that my presence has been blessed with greatness. He flips it open smoothly, flashing a square of laminated, official looking plastic at me. His creds certainly look genuine, although there’s always the possibility that Deputy Douche (to give him his official job title) is a fake with the real article. Deputy Douche flicks the case shut and slides it into his back pocket.

We look at each other for a moment. Eh. Fuck it. I’d like to eat lunch, and I’d also like to go after Sarah Jo. Sleep, a shower, and a cold beer are high up on my to do list as well, so Deputy Douche needs to get on with it.

“You got business here?” Looming over him is ridiculously easy. Bet Deputy Douche is wishing he’d met a smaller hotshot or put lifts in those fancy shoes of his. Deputy Douche isn’t a small man, either, but I have the advantage, the biggest one being that I don’t have to pretend to be nice. Or professional. Even if Hunter Black is off-site at the moment and that makes me the man in charge. Which is very convenient when Deputy Douche shoves a picture in my face.

“No autographs,” I tell him, enjoying the way he chokes on his righteous indignation. I’m not sure why I’m baiting him. Normally, I have nothing but respect for law enforcement—they do an important job, and like my hotshot team, their number one goal is keeping people safe. I admire that. This guy, however, rubs me the wrong way.

The photo is also a problem. I snatch it out of his hand and head into the office just in case that wasn’t Sarah Jo getting the hell out of Dodge a few minutes ago. I also think I’m not going to want an audience for this conversation because that’s definitely Sarah Jo in the picture. Her hair’s a little less colorful, but she’s beaming at the camera with her trademark smile, flashing her fingers in a vee for victory gesture. She looks happy and way the fuck less haunted.

Her expression’s almost as good as the one she sported yesterday after my tongue and I got done expressing our heart-felt appreciation for her pussy. Fuck, but she tasted good. Probably a good thing we didn’t get around to actual penetration because she’s obviously in an emotionally vulnerable place. You can’t believe I just said that? That makes two of us. But banging the hell out of her on a desk when she was scared shitless about something didn’t sit right then, and it doesn’t feel any more right today. Sure, I’ve got regrets. My dick’s been sending urgent messages to my brain since we parted and my balls are permanently Smurf-colored.

But even if scared and sexy can co-exist, I feel like I should take care of the scared thing first for her. Must be because I’ve still got a gentlemanly side and if she’s not worried, she’ll be able to focus all her considerable attention on the amazing orgasms I’m giving her. Who wouldn’t want his best work appreciated? Just thinking about her spread out on the desk gets me hard all over again. Hope Deputy Douche doesn’t think the hard-on’s for him and end up with his precious feelings crushed.

“I’m investigating an arson.” Deputy Douche obviously expects his pronouncement to be greeted with a chorus of Hallelujahs because my continued silence makes the other man blink. Which is why I continue keeping my mouth shut and wait. Sooner or later, Hill will tell me what I need to know. Then I can assess my options, fix whatever shit Sarah Jo’s landed in, and go after her for round two in O-ville.