In His Custody
More than anything, I want to turn in to Brody’s hard body and have his arms wrapped around me. He towers over everyone in line, his posture that of a man in control. A man who holds the reins to the universe. He’s left his police badge in the car, but he might as well be wearing it for the amount of authority rolling off his broad shoulders.
I’m attracted to a lot more than his body, though. The way he keeps encouraging me…it’s the first time anyone has ever done that. And I’m actually starting to believe him. I’m growing hungry to set goals, professionally, and try and reach them. Back in the interrogation room, he trusted me. Believed me. It’s making me want to believe in myself and my abilities.
“We’ve only talked about me,” I say, eager to know more about this man who has become a giant fixture in my life, literally overnight. “What about you, Brody? You haven’t been a cop in town long or I would have met you before. Where did you come from?”
He seems a little caught off guard by my interest. “Baltimore.” He clears his throat. “That’s where I grew up. When my tour with the army ended, I applied for a job with law enforcement. Transferred south when the captain position opened.”
“Of course you’re military.” I grin up at him. “It’s right there in how you stand.”
His eyes narrow, lips twitching. “How do I stand?”
“Like a drill sergeant.” My body turns toward him naturally, flirtatiously, the toes of my flip flops meeting the hard front of his boots. “Mean.”
Brody takes a slow step closer, forcing me to tip my head back…and the move grazes our hips together, sending shivers of delight to my nerve endings. “Am I mean to you, little girl?” he asks, sliding a finger into one of the belt loops of my jean skirt.
I pout up at him. “Uh-huh.”
“Really?” He dips his head to speak beside my ear. “I might be a little mean when I want to get a point across, but ah, baby, it makes you so fucking wet, doesn’t it?”
Heat spreads between my legs. “You said to behave.”
“You make it hard to follow through when I can see the shape of your nipples through that shirt and you can’t stop looking at my mouth.” With the use of my belt loop, he tugs me up against him, making me gasp. “You thinking of how well it licked your pussy?”
Stepdad.
He’s your stepdad.
Behave.
If I don’t figure out a way to put out this fire he’s lit inside of me, I’m going to climb him right here, in line for this roller coaster. There is something about the anonymity of the theme park. No one here knows how we’re related by marriage. No one knows us at all. We’re a man and his much younger girlfriend. A little unusual, but nothing illicit.
If only they knew.
Biting my lip, I turn so I’m facing away, but Brody clutches my hips and yanks my backside into the curve of his lap. Still, I try to overcome the flames licking at my inner thighs. “D-do you still have family in Baltimore?”
“A sister.” His mouth falls to my neck, skating up the side. “You’ll meet her one day.”
“Will I?” I breathe, shuddering when his right hand travels from my hip to my stomach, slipping beneath my shirt to rest there, right below my belly button. On my bare skin.
“Yes, London. You will.”
There is no mistaking the erection he presses to my backside, or the way he rocks against me, his breath hot against the crown of my head. We move with the flow of the line, stepping together, our bodies tightly pressed. My panties are soaked to the skin, my breasts heavy and aching. In this place, this park that doesn’t feel like real life, my inhibitions are fading into nothing. Maybe they never existed at all when it comes to this man, because it’s as though he was made for me. As though we were made for each other, drawn by a magnetic force.
I don’t realize my eyes have closed, my body lost in the rhythm of his grinding movements, until Brody’s chest muscles flex and stiffen behind me. His fingers dig into my stomach slightly and there’s a wealth of possessiveness in that touch—and when I tip my head back and look up at Brody questioningly, I notice he’s looking at something up ahead. Following his line of vision, I see a group of guys my age leering at me.
We’re in a dark part of the waiting area now, bathed almost entirely in black by an artificial rock overhang. No one is paying attention to us, save that pack of rowdy idiots, but the last thing I expect is for Brody to slide his hand further into my jean skirt and grip me intimately between the legs. At the same time, his teeth sink into the side of my neck, his hand massaging rhythmically, at such a perfect pace and strength my eyes roll back in my head.