The Cop (The Working Men Series Book 8) Page 6

  “Shit. Are you okay?”

  His big hands cupped my waist and he helped me to my feet, steadying me as I shoved my uniform down and stared up at him.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Didn’t Nana text you? I’m fixing the pantry door.”

  “She did, but I, uh, thought you’d be finished by now.”

  He grimaced. “The door was a piece of crap. A big chunk of it cracked off when I tried to fix it. I had to buy a new door and now I’m just about to hang it.”

  “Oh,” I said. “But, uh, your car isn’t here.”

  “Nana borrowed mine to run a few errands. It’s better in the ice and snow than hers.”

  “Right,” I said.

  He hesitated. “I meant to be finished before you were done work. I can come back tomorrow.”

  “No, that’s okay. I don’t mind.”

  “All right.” He was still holding me around the waist, and I was way too aware of the way his shirt clung to his broad shoulders. God, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to strip me naked and bury his face in my pussy and then fuck me and maybe finally give me that spanking that I couldn’t stop thinking about.

  Hey, Maggie? That’s real sweet, but you remember that you’re wearing a truly revolting uniform that makes you look like you have a uni-tit, you have a stain on the front from that milkshake that kid dumped on you, and you smell like a grease bucket. Right?

  Dammit!

  I pulled away from him and folded my arms across my chest to hide both my uni-tit and the milkshake stain. “Um, I was just going to go have a shower so, uh…”

  “Sure, of course. I’ll try and finish this up quickly.”

  “No, that’s fine. Take your time.” I fled down the hallway, wondering if Wyatt was looking at my ass. I stopped at the bedroom door, checking quickly behind me. Disappointment flooded through me. Not only was Wyatt not checking out my ass, but he’d already gone back into the kitchen.

  I sighed and ducked into the room, unzipping my uniform and tossing it into the hamper. I had to get over this unhealthy obsession with Officer I Want his Tongue Down my Throat. He was over me and - I glanced ruefully at my chest - my tiny tits.

  I took a quick shower, scrubbing the old milkshake and grease smell away, before slipping into a t-shirt and yoga pants. No bra, but it wasn’t like I needed one anyway, right? Besides, Wyatt had already seen my boobs and he was over them.

  And you’re going without panties because…?

  Resolutely ignoring my inner voice and pasting a smile on my face, I stepped into the kitchen. Wyatt was just packing up his tools, the new door already hung and looking perfect. A wave of disappointment washed over me. He’d leave now and I’d be alone.

  And horny. Don’t forget the horny part.

  I grimaced inwardly. How could I forget the horny part? It was like a damn part of me now. It didn’t help that I saw Wyatt every day at the diner, that I couldn’t stop thinking about how talented he was with that damn tongue of his.

  I stared at his ass in those tight jeans, watched the flex of his back muscles as he carefully piled the tools into his totally manly toolbox. Lord, the guy had a great ass. Very…

  Biteable?

  I swallowed hard as my cheeks flushed and lust rocketed through me. Just thinking about Wyatt and his biteable, yummy butt, made my nipples hard and my pussy wet and, oh boy, going without panties was a very, very bad idea.

  It couldn’t be normal for a vagina to get this wet just looking at a man, could it? I mean, obviously there was something wrong with my hoochie that required immediate tongue attention.

  Medical. I mean it requires medical attention.

  “What requires medical attention?”

  Sweet mother of mercy… did I just say that out loud? I lifted my gaze from Wyatt’s ass to his face. “Um, sorry, what?”

  “What needs medical attention?” Wyatt’s face was a mixture of confusion and concern.

  “Oh, uh…”

  Don’t say vagina. Don’t say vagina. Don’t say…

  “Vagina!” I blurted.

  Goddammit!

  His gaze dropped to my crotch. “Your vagina requires medical attention?”

  “It’s wet,” I whispered. “I mean…it’s aching.”

  He moved closer and when his gaze dropped to my tits, I followed it. My nipples were rock hard and poking against my shirt. I watched the muscle in Wyatt’s jaw tick as he stared at them. He inched even closer, until I could feel the heat of his body, see the small spot of stubble on his jaw that he’d missed with the razor. I wanted to touch that spot, wanted to lick it with my tongue until he moaned.

  “Is your pussy wet or is it aching?” He asked.

  I stared mutely at him and he gave me a stern look that sent a new wave of liquid to my pussy. “Answer me, Magnolia.”

  “Um…it’s not, I mean, it’s kind of achy?” I said like an idiot.

  “Maybe I should take a look at it,” he replied.

  “You’re not a doctor.”

  Before he could answer, I said, “But you play one on TV, am I right?”

  I giggled, the nerves clearly audible in it, and raised my hand for a high five.

  He folded his arms across his chest, and I stared at the light dusting of dark hair across his forearms, and the sinewy muscle just below the skin before slowly lowering my hand. “Sorry.”

  “As an officer of the law, I have some medical training,” he said.

  “Right,” I said. “Well, if you don’t mind, maybe you could take a quick look at it. For, uh, medical purposes, not, um, licking purposes.”

  Oh.My.God.

  His lips twitched and that muscle in his jaw ticked faster before he said. “I don’t mind at all.”

  He walked to the sink and washed his hands before returning to me. I was still standing next to the table, my heart beating too fast and the heat in my cheeks matching the heat in my possibly broken vagina.

  I squeaked when in three swift moves, he yanked my yoga pants to my ankles, picked me up, and plopped me down on the table. I sat there in surprise, my bare ass smushed against the cold wood, as Wyatt pulled my yoga pants completely free and dropped them on the floor.

  “No panties, Ms. Blossom?”

  “I, um, I didn’t… shouldn’t we go to the bedroom for this?”

  “What for?” He asked with a hint of amusement. “The kitchen has better lighting and I’m doing this for medical purposes not… licking purposes. Remember?”

  My blush was moving down my face and into my chest but there wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to stop.

  “Lie back.”

  I hesitated, and Wyatt placed a warm hand right between my tiny tits and pushed gently. “Lie back, please.”

  Feeling silly and embarrassed and wickedly horny, I collapsed on my back, staring at the ceiling as Wyatt lifted my legs until my feet were resting on the table. My knees were locked together, and I jerked when Wyatt rested his big warm hands on them.

  “Open, Magnolia.”

  I peered at him over my raised legs. “Wyatt, maybe…”

  “Open for me. Now.”

  I opened my legs. How could I not when his deep voice demanded it?

  Wyatt’s hands slid down my inner thighs, leaving a searing path of heat wherever he touched. He pressed until my legs were spread as wide as they could go and my pussy was fully bared to him. He stared silently at it before lifting his gaze to me.

  I moaned at the hunger on his face and his hands tightened against my inner thighs. “Your pussy is very wet, Magnolia.”

  “I -I know,” I said.

  One finger traced across my wet lips and I moaned, my hips rising compulsively. “Oh, please.”

  “Where does it ache?” He asked. “Here?” The tip of his finger probed between my pussy lips, and I made a strangled cry of need when it brushed against my swollen clit.

  “Yes! Please, Wyatt.”

  He ignored m
y whimper of need and slid his finger back down my slit to my aching hole. He pushed his thick finger deep inside of me, a low groan escaping his throat when I clenched around him.

  “Is it aching here, baby?”

  “Yes!” I nodded frantically, my hands reaching down to clutch at his forearm. “Yes, it aches, Wyatt.”

  “Hmm. Does this help?” He added another finger and slowly moved them in and out.

  “Oh God, yes. A little… kind of. Please!” I said.

  He smiled before tugging on the hem of my shirt with his free hand. “Take this off. I think my girl needs to be completely naked for me. Don’t you?”

  “Sure, yeah, okay,” I said and yanked off my shirt.

  “Good.” He was studying my breasts but for once I wasn’t thinking about how tiny they were. I was too distracted by the pressure of Wyatt’s thumb as he rested it against my throbbing clit.

  “Wyatt, rub,” I whined.

  He shook his head. I immediately wiggled my hips, rubbing my pussy against his hand. Oh God, it felt so good. The pressure, the roughness of –

  “Ow! Oh…”

  The stinging slap to my inner thigh made me squeal in surprise. He gave me another stern look. “Stay still, baby.”

  “That hurt!” I pouted.

  He rubbed the pink mark on my thigh. “I’m sure it did. Stop moving, Magnolia.”

  I desperately wanted to rub against his thumb again, but it really had hurt when he slapped my thigh. I made myself stay still as he stared at my breasts again.

  “Pull on your nipples,” he said. “Make them hard for me.”

  I cupped my breasts, weirdly not self-conscious at all, and pulled and tugged on my nipples until they were swollen and diamond hard.

  “Such pretty tits,” Wyatt crooned. “I can’t wait to suck on your nipples again, baby.”

  I cried out with pleasure when he rubbed my clit with his thumb.

  “Does that help with the ache?”

  I rubbed and kneaded my breasts, my hips rocking against Wyatt’s hand. “Yeah,” I gasped out. “A little.”

  He stopped rubbing. “Only a little?”

  “Oh, please,” I begged. “Fuck, Wyatt, please. I want more.”

  He just stared at me and I was pretty sure he saw the lightbulb go off over my head only a few seconds later.

  “Please lick my clit, sir,” I moaned.

  He immediately bent his head, his fingers still firmly wedged in my pussy, and licked my swollen clit.

  I wound my hands in his thick hair and held tightly as he licked my clit repeatedly. I ground my pussy against his face, crying out when he nipped my wet lips before sucking on my clit.

  He lifted his head, his beautiful, talented mouth soaking wet. “Don’t cum, Magnolia.”

  “What?” I glared at him. “No, I have to.”

  “No,” he said. “Not yet.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.” He punctuated the no with a long, wet lick of my clit that brought me to the very edge of my orgasm.

  “Yes!” I shrieked. “Wyatt, yes!”

  “No.” He was as relentless as the tide. “Do not cum, Magnolia.” Another wet lick that brought a strangled cry from my lips.

  “If you cum, I’ll spank you,” he said.

  With a loud shriek, I came all over his face, my hips pumping like a piston, my hands holding his face tight against my pussy. He growled, the sound vibrating against my pussy and sending another shockwave of pleasure through me. He gave my clit one final slow slide of his tongue that made me moan with delight before pulling my hands free of his hair and straightening.

  He was giving me a look of disapproval, but I didn’t care. The orgasm had been worth every bit of his disapproval. I gave him a languid smile. “Sorry about that.”

  “No, you’re not,” he replied.

  “I am. But really, it’s your fault,” I said with a soft and sated giggle. “You and your magic tongue.”

  I lolled on the table, naked as a jaybird and not caring at all, my eyes half closed as my pussy throbbed pleasantly with the last of my orgasm. I could hear Wyatt rustling around the kitchen, and I smiled. Maybe he was making me something to eat. It was dinner time and I was kind of hungry now that my little lust problem was taken care of.

  “Stand up, Magnolia.”

  I forced myself into a sitting position, the soft smile on my lips dying when I saw Wyatt. He was naked and sitting on a kitchen chair, the condom already on his perfect erect cock. He patted his lap. “Come here, please.”

  I swallowed heavily, my gaze trained on that sexy and large – very large – dick of his. Just the tiniest bit of lust was flickering back to life in my belly. I licked my lips. “Wh-what are you planning on doing to me?”

  “You know what I’m going to do to you,” he said. “You disobeyed me. What happens when you disobey me?”

  “I get a stern talking to and another orgasm?” I said.

  His perfect lips twitched again, but his gaze was solemn when he said, “Come here, Magnolia. I won’t ask again.”

  I hopped off the table and stood next to him. He patted his lap again. “Over my lap, please.”

  “Wyatt, this is kind of ridiculous. I mean, a spanking is one thing, but does it have to be over your -”

  “The more you argue, the more spanks you’ll get,” he said.

  “You’re kidding!”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  I folded my arms across my chest and studied him for a minute before shrugging. “Okay, fine.”

  Feeling a little awkward, I leaned over his lap, squeaking when his heavy hand pressed on my lower back and I fell into his lap. His erection pressed against my stomach, and I stared at the floor as he rubbed my lower back.

  I was head down and ass up and while it felt weird and a little humiliating, that flicker of lust in my belly was becoming a tiny flame.

  “I need a safe word, Magnolia.” His warm hand rubbed over my bare bottom and I shivered against his thighs.

  “Do I really need one?” I craned my neck to stare at him. “I mean, this is like a sexy spanking, not a real spanking, right? I don’t need a safe word.”

  He smiled at me and squeezed my right ass cheek. “Baby, with this type of play, I always require a safe word.”

  “But if it’s just for fun, then…”

  “Those are the rules,” he said. “Without a safe word, this doesn’t happen.”

  “Fine,” I huffed. I glanced around the kitchen for inspiration. “Uh, spatula. Spatula is my safe word.”

  I expected him to roll his eyes or tell me to pick another, but he just nodded and stroked my ass again. “All right. If you want me to stop, you say spatula. Understood?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Magnolia,” his tone was firm, but his touch was gentle, “this is very important. I won’t stop for anything but your safe word. Do you understand?”

  I stared into his stormy ocean eyes, my throat suddenly dry, and that flame of lust burning a little brighter. “Yes, Wyatt. I understand.”

  “Good. Relax, please.”

  “It’s kind of hard to relax when you’re naked and draped over a man’s lap for a spanking,” I said.

  He grinned at me and any trepidation I might have been feeling disappeared the moment I saw that damn dimple. “Fair enough.”

  He rubbed my ass again. “I love your ass, baby. I can’t wait to spank it.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?” I said cheekily. “I haven’t got all – shit! Ow, ow, ow!”

  Wyatt had slapped my right ass cheek and it was not the sexy little love slap I was expecting. Nope, this was a full-on spank and when his hand came down on my left cheek, I was no less prepared for the harsh sting of pain it sent through my lower body.

  I immediately flailed around on his lap like a wounded bird, trying to slide off his lap to the floor. His hand pressed down on my lower back, pinning me in place, and he spanked me again.

  I squealed i
n outrage and tried to protect my already painful butt with my hands.

  “Wyatt, no!” I shouted when he grabbed my wrists and pinned them behind my back. I stared at the floor, my poor defenseless ass already on fire as Wyatt spanked me again.

  “Goddammit!” I shouted. “That hurts. You son of a bitch!”

  He spanked me again and I wiggled wildly on his lap. I don’t know how he did it, but my thrashing legs were suddenly pinned under one of his legs and I was completely trapped. I arched my back when he rubbed my burning ass.

  “Wyatt, it hurts!”

  “I know,” he said. “Only ten more, baby.”

  “Ten!” I turned my head to give him a look of outrage. “Ten? No, no way. I am not… oh fuck!”

  He spanked me twice more, each one sending a line of fire across my ass.

  “This is not sexy!” I moaned. “This isn’t sexy or fun or… oh, oh, oh my God!”

  His horrible, terrible, wonderful hand had slipped between my legs and when he rubbed my clit, I made a screeching inarticulate sound of pleasure. My ass was burning, but the sensation had paled with the sudden realization that the flame of lust burning in my belly had become an out-of-control wildfire.

  “Look, baby.”

  I shook my head, staring grimly at the floor as Wyatt moved his hand away from my pussy.

  “Magnolia, look.”

  I lifted my head and studied his fingers, staring at the way they dripped with liquid.

  “Your sweet pussy is soaking wet, isn’t it?” Wyatt said.

  I pressed my lips together, a little ashamed at myself and my reaction to the not-at-all sexy, but somehow unfucking-believably sexy, spanking.

  “Answer me,” Wyatt said.

  “Yes.” I glared at him. “Yes, it’s wet.”

  He smiled at me. “Soaking wet.”

  I could feel that shame growing, but underneath it was the almost desperate need for him to finish the spanking so that he would fuck me.

  “Wyatt,” I moaned.

  “Yes, Magnolia?”

  “Please.”

  “Please what, baby?”

  “Just finish it already,” I snapped.