Cop's Obsession by Regina Wade

Author:Regina Wade [Wade, Regina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Shilo

My name is Joe Roberts. I work for the state. I’m a sergeant out of Perryville. Barracks number eight. — Bruce Springsteen, ‘Highway Patrolman’

I wrench my eyes away from Slate.

It’s difficult. On the one hand, god, he’s so hot.

The longer I look at him the more I want him, but the more I’m certain I don’t deserve him. What could a man like him ever want with an inexperienced virgin like me?

But.

But he can’t keep his hands off me. He laughs at my jokes. He smiles at me when I talk about art like it’s something I could really do, not just that empty smile of someone being polite.

Slate is the most genuine man I’ve ever met in my entire life. Everything about him is larger than life, vibrant. He makes everything else fade into the background.

This is what I’ve been waiting for.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” Slate whispers as he pulls me into his arms, his lips brushing against my ear in a way that sends delicious shivers running down my spine.

“I don’t. I mean I do. I mean —” I start and stop, babbling, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and open them to stare straight up into his gorgeous green gaze.

“Slate. I want this. I want you. I’ve been waiting for you for so long. I promise you I won’t regret it.”

He nods at me, his eyes blazing with heat. It feels like he’s looking deep into me, right into my soul.

No wonder he’s a top cop. No one could ever lie to those eyes.

He smiles, and I melt.

“Alright, baby. Let’s take this back to the bedroom.”

I shake my head.

“I can’t wait, Slate. I need you. Here. Now.” I can hardly believe the bold words falling from my lips, but my body has assumed direct control of my mouth, bypassing my brain altogether.

He growls, and the sound alone is enough to almost make me orgasm.

“What, um, what should I...do?” I ask, floundering in the face of so much brain-melting hotness so close to me.

He grins down at me before pressing a searing hot kiss against my mouth. His kiss is just as full of life as the rest of him. I can feel my skin lighting up at every point of contact between us, and I whimper against his mouth.

“Touch me,” he orders, taking one of my hands in his and sliding it up his shirt.

The expanse of hard muscle beneath my hand is incredible. Slate must take his physical training regimen seriously, because there’s not a hint of fat anywhere on his rock-solid abs. I slide my palm along them, delighting in the contrast between my soft skin and his solid roughness.

I keep going, pressing my hand farther up, over the swell of his chest. Slate helps by stripping his tee up over his head, an act that makes his body ripple and my heart skip a beat.

“Holy shit,” I whisper reverently, my free hand coming up to my mouth.

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