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But he’s the one staring at me. And he’s the one who looks aggressive…like an animal…a predator.
And I’m his prey.
CHAPTER 2
Danny
I lean back in my seat trying to release the pressure in my slacks. My cock is harder than the nightstick on the passenger seat next to me, and this is as close as it’s ever been to being that long too.
Because of her.
What in the hell has gotten into me? I’ve never botched a simple traffic stop the way I am right now.
Damn! I didn’t even remember to ask her for her license and registration. That’s the most basic thing.
I learned how to police in Dublin, one of the toughest cities in the world and here I am in some little Massachusetts village and I can’t even write some college girl a simple speeding ticket?
Is she a college girl?
It’s a good thing I didn’t get her information after all, because I’d be too tempted to run it and learn everything about her. I’d spend my entire day at my computer researching her…learning her likes and dislikes and making sure I spent the rest of my life giving her anything and everything she wanted.
It would come naturally. Why? Because the only thing I want right now is her.
But this isn’t some fleeting thought. This is something else. I don’t know how to put it into words, but this is different.
I shake my head from side to side trying to snap myself out of it. A girl like this doesn’t deserve a guy like me. She’s young and free and she deserves to be out there in whatever big city she belongs in taking the world by the horns and making it hers.
The last thing she needs is to be tied down in some small town carrying my babies, one right after another.
Babies? I’ve never even wanted kids. I’m not the guy for that kind of stuff.
But now? Now I know the truth. It wasn’t me. It was just that I’d never met the right woman.
Until now.
But she’s too perfect to give a ticket to, and making her come back here to appear is only going to be a huge hassle for her in her life. A young girl like that is either in college or fresh out. I doubt she’s got a lot of extra cash lying around. The last thing I want to do is make someone else’s life more difficult, especially when they’re clearly a good person.
She was just a few miles over the limit and we just brought the limit down recently. It’s an honest mistake, and I don’t need to make a mistake of my own and show this big city girl that small town people aren’t the nicest kind of people there are.
I was big city too, but not anymore. Still, I can recognize another city person a mile away. They’re always in a rush to get to two places at once and they spend half their life trying to do exactly that.
But I want her here, in my city, where I can watch her…and make her mine.
“Chief Doyle!”
I turn and look at my walkie-talkie on the seat.
“This is Chief Doyle,” I speak into it, not taking my eyes off her.
“Sorry to yell chief, it’s just that you weren’t responding and your camera was off. We weren’t sure if something happened or we should send back up.”
“No. Don’t send anyone,” I growl. She’s mine and I’m not about to share.
“Okay. Sorry sir. Just checking.”
“Thank you,” I mumble into the walkie-talkie still not sure how to handle this situation. That’s a first. I’m the one who always knows what to do.
Until now. Until her.
“Sir, just wanted to remind you you have an interview in five minutes.”
“Interview?”
“About the St. Patrick’s Day parade. The mayor’s already here.”
“I’m on my way.”
I adjust myself and swing my car door open, but I’m too hard to step out.
I want to go back up there and tell her to show me her license and registration. That way she’ll have to lean over to the passenger side to get in the glove box.
And I’ll be able to look down that top of hers.
No. This isn’t me. I don’t abuse my power. Never have and I’m not going to start now.
I yank the car door closed and check my rear view. All clear.
I flip the lights on and hurry back to the station, flexing my neck as hard as I can when I pass her.
I can’t look at her again. If I do I’ll stop and that will be the end of me, and the beginning of us.
It’s too cliché. And it’s too wrong.
I’ve never pulled a woman over and asked her for her number or anything unprofessional like that. But this time it was close.
I feel a kick in the gut and I can’t help myself. I steady the wheel and look in the rearview, memorizing her license plate number.
