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“We both know you’ve never fucking come like that before,” I chuckle, leaving her curled into a ball as I head to my car. “You can find me at The Rail if you change your mind.”
Closing the door, I gun the engine and pull from the parking lot. Dust trails behind my car as my tires tear up the gravel and dirt. Taking another sip of my warm, cunty beer, I place it in the cupholder to enjoy the remainder at home.
At this hour, I make quick work of crossing through town, back to my side filled with sprawling estates and massive mansions.
Can’t say I didn’t invite her to join me…
Flipping on the blinker, I turn toward my drive and wait for the electronic sensor to open the gate before driving up to my home. I come to a stop at the base of the steps, leaving the car in the middle of the large circular drive. One of my staff will take care of it in the morning. Pushing open the door, I grab the beer bottle from the cupholder and head inside.
It's vacant. Too quiet. I need something to come home to at night.
I should probably get a dog.
But a woman would be so much more fun to play with.
If it’s not going to be Mia, I need to find someone. Someone with a tight little cunt and a pretty mouth to stick my cock in when and where I please.
Sipping the beer as I walk through the house in the dark, I can’t stop thinking about Mia. The way she thrashed beneath me and that look in her eyes when her body betrayed her, causing her to unwillingly lose herself around my cock.
Fuck, she would’ve been perfect.
Even my cock fucking agrees.
It’s been less than thirty minutes since I was buried inside of her, and I’m already fucking hard again.
Walking into the living room, I place the bottle on an end table as I unzip my pants and pull out my cock. Taking a seat in an oversized, leather upholstered chair, I turn on the highlights I missed of tonight’s game.
Beer in hand, I leisurely stroke my cock as I watch the recap. Then, once it’s over, I click the remote to stream from an attached hard-drive of porn cultivated to my particular interests. Savoring the last of my Mia-flavored lager, my eyes glued to the screen before me, I fist my length until I spill over my hand.
CHAPTER FIVE
DETECTIVE MICHALES
“Michales!” Chief yells through the office. “There’s a woman out front who’s looking to report an incident last night at the Rusty Anchor.”
“Jesus Christ.” I roll my eyes and sigh. “It’s always that fucking shithole.”
Pushing my chair back from my desk, I stand as I pull my gun from the top drawer of my desk. After I slip it into my holster, I round my desk to make my way to the front of the precinct.
“Michales,” he huffs as he approaches. “It’s a fucking rape allegation. Maybe find a bit of couth and sensitivity before you go fucking talk to her.”
“Yes, Sir,” I stammer, “Of course.”
Without moving from my side, he eyes the office, and I’m all but certain he’s looking for anyone else to send in my place. It’s just me and Brown—a rookie who’s only days out of the academy—leaving him no other option beside doing it himself.
“Don’t make me regret this.” He drops a slip of paper on my desk and turns on his heel to head back to his office.
I might be the office fuck up, but I’m apparently still good enough when no one else is around.
I lift the paper and read the name scribbled across it.
Mia Dillon
The paper crinkles between my fingers as I walk through the precinct and into the waiting room. Pushing open the door, I call out the name crumpled within my fist.
In response, a young woman stands from the row of orange plastic seats bolted to the floor. She’s a thin—too fucking thin—beautiful brunette. While she’s young, she looks like life has repeatedly kicked her while she was down.
As she approaches, I note the remnants of mascara that have trailed down her cheeks and her messy bun of still-wet hair. Both clear signs that she tried to clean herself up before coming to the station. Her clothes are still those of a woman who was out on the town last night—a tight denim mini skirt and a low-cut tank top that accentuates her cleavage.
