ROMANCE: MENAGE ROMANCE: Tapped and Taken by Two (Pregnancy Sports MMA UFC Fighter Romance) (Alpha Male Romance) (12 page)

He leaned his head into her shoulder and she wrapped her arms around him. Love was all around them.

~The End~

Hit and Run: The Bad Boy’s Baby

1

“The suspect is fleeing in a black Jetta,” the voice on the radio announced. Detective Randi Gagnon and her partner Christine McDonald knew the address and saw they were directly in the path of the suspect’s escape. Holiday traffic clogged the streets though so Randi jumped out of the car to cut across an alley to increase their chances of catching sight of the car. In the distance, she heard sirens blaring from the first National Bank after three masked men got out with almost a quarter million dollars. One of the suspects was in custody, the other fired on one of the security guards, and was killed instantly when a second security officer opened fire. The third suspect, disappeared from the scene like a ghost, but was just spotted headed this way in the jetta.

Traffic was almost gridlocked, and Randi’s partner Christine McDonald stayed in the unmarked car in case the suspect came down High Street instead of taking the more obvious route out of downtown, which Randi now had eyes on. She felt confident she could intercept him, could get out ahead of him. Randi pushed her way through the holiday shopping crowds, dressed in running shoes and a smart tailored suit. She never wore heels on duty, and this was the reason.

Chris radioed to her to let her know she’d saw the Jetta down the street take a quick turn, which would mean it would be coming up on Randi’s location any moment. It made the turn Randi thought it would. Chris cursed inwardly, she needed to get over to help her partner.

Bursting out of the ally, Randi stopped short as a handsome man crashed into her, his arms full of wrapped Christmas packages.

“Sorry sir, Police matter.”

“No, no, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Randi crained her neck, searching for the black Jetta as the man slowly started collecting his packages.

“What do you mean I should see it?” Randi frantically radioed to Chris. She looked around for another few seconds then realized the time had past. She radioed back to dispatch, “suspect has not been seen on High or Tisdale, suspect assumed to still be in black Jetta.” Her shoulder’s slunk down and she saw the man collecting his Christmas packages. She bent to help him pick them up. They were all heavy, the wrapping job neat in a way she could never manage, all crisp angles and corners. One was torn from the fall, and she saw pale cardboard underneath.

“Oh no, this one will have to be re-wrapped.” She handed it to him apologetically.

He took it, examined it, and fixed her with his blue eyes. “Don’t worry about it officer, just doing your job I guess.”

Randi asked him he had seen a black Jetta driving fast and frantic in the past few minutes.

“No officer, I can’t say I have, but I’m doing some shopping around this area for a little while still, I can ask around and call you if I hear of anyone seeing something.

Randi opened her mouth. Closed it again. Glanced at her watch. He was really very good looking, clean cut, neat dark hair, a sharp, expensive suit. His lips were full, his nose long and aquiline. His chin and jawline strong.

“Ummm, ya okay, thank you sir. If anything comes up you should call me.”

She could tell he was sizing her up. Randi was used to being looked at differently when people saw her as an officer. She fished a card out of her wallet, and handed it to him. “Use the cell number on there. I always pick up.”

He read her card, and his eyebrows raised. He looked her up and down, taking in her tiny physique and blonde hair.

“A detective?”

“Yup, I’m on duty right now as you know, and have to run. Literally.”

Chris buzzed in her ear. She was bringing the car around to pick Randi up.

The man seemed amused, but didn’t say anything.

His looked changed though, he regarded her differently. Randi wasn’t used to being looked at like this when she was on the job and her stern and official persona dropped away. In the midst of all that chaos and adrenaline a very strange and real moment occurred. It looked like there was something he desperately wanted to tell her.

“So…call me?” She gave him what she hoped was a winning smile, because she realized she really liked the look of him, and in any other circumstances would’ve wanted him to call for entirely different reasons. Then she ran off towards Chris and the car. She left him—she hadn’t even caught his name!—standing in the sidewalk with his bags of presents.

As she slid into the passenger seat of the warm Impala, the radio crackled and dispatch let them know the black Jetta had been located—drenched in bleach and set on fire. Someone had just called the fire department and the flaming Jetta was literally a few blocks from where they were. She glanced back over her shoulder. The perp was out there somewhere, close to where she’d been. She hadn’t noticed anyone in the black sweats all three robbers wore when they left the bank. There wasn’t time to dump the car, bleach the car, and change. He must have gone another way.

Chris drove them to the site of the burning car, already surrounded by yellow police tape and an-ever growing crowd. It was an empty parking lot surrounded on three sides by tall office buildings. The two women got out, though they knew there wasn’t much they could do, the fire would take care of most of the evidence. Randi though overheard a statement a uniformed police officer was taking from a couple goth looking teenage boys in long trench coats.

“Didn’t see anybody man, we were just waiting for the bus when this dude came around the corner holding a bunch of presents and told us there was a fire. By the time we went to go look, the car was like a total ball of flames and that’s when we called the fire department.”

Randi stopped for a moment to go and ask them more about this man, could it be the same guy she just met, but then stopped herself as three other guys carrying wrapped boxes elbowed their way through the crowds. The chances that he was the same were probably one in a million. She looked up at all the windows that looked onto the parking lot. Better chance if she started there and coordinated everyone into checking with all those people. The first snowflakes of the season started to fall, sinking lazily from the grey sky. Jingle bells played loudly from the speakers out front of a nearby store, and Randi knew it was going to be a much longer day than she had hoped for.

*              *              *

James Moore stared down at the card in his hand.
Detective Randi Gagnon
. Detective who was on the run, searching for a suspect as they spoke.

Searching for him.

He laughed shaking himself out of the momentary trance he just felt, adjusted the boxes in his arms as he blended into the crowd, and made his way back to the garage where his Mercedes was parked. Whistling Christmas music in the falling snow, he drove toward a warehouse on the edge of town. The designated rendezvous point. The heavy packages he’d loaded into the trunk of the car each contained tens of thousands of dollars. Not his best work, not by a long shot. He hated it when things didn’t all go as planned.

He turned on his police scanner, and the realization hit him like a sledgehammer. Easy job? Not even close. He’d gotten away with the money, but one of his partners—had to be Blitzen—had been shot at by the police. A second man, Donner, he knew was in custody. He had no idea if Blitzen was alive or not.

Only James himself—Cupid—made it away.

He pulled over on the side of the interstate. A stupid move if he got pulled over, but he couldn’t drive right now. He turned his hazards on and let his forehead drop to the steering wheel. He didn’t know the other two men’s real names, and they didn’t know his. Very little connected him back to them, and he’d been the one to carry two thirds of the payout. Blitzen would have had the remainder, and it sounded like it was re-appropriated. It suddenly dawned on James that the rendezvous point was probably the last place he should go. No telling what the other two were telling the police right now.

A man could be dead because of him.

Again.

No. He’d had this talk with himself before. He’d encouraged them not even to carry guns. They didn’t need them. And Blitzen started firing when he got pinned down. What did he expect would happen? At least it seemed like Donner was all right. In custody, sure, bound to face some serious jail time, but for sure alive.

James had done jail time before. Vowed long ago he never would again, and not because he’d go out like Blitzen. He was too smart for the cops, after his first screw-up, his track record proved it. James was thorough, he covered his tracks. He had more escape planes for himself than everybody he had ever worked with put together. This job now though had too many loose ends to just forget it and move on. Luckily, he might now have a way to get some inside information.

He dialed detective Randi Gagnon’s number and she picked up.

“Still working?” he asked.

“Who is this?” All business.

“My name is James Moore. I don’t think you caught it earlier when you knocked all my Christmas presents on the ground.”

“Yes, sorry James, you know I thought the same thing as I was driving away. Thanks for calling me.

“Are you free tonight?”

“Wha-What do you mean, do you have something you need to tell me?”

“No, when you left I just knew that I needed to call you. I felt like I wanted to have a drink with you, and I don’t like to just let something go away when I feel it.”

Randi didn’t know how to react to this. Here was some random handsome stranger calling the detective he just met and asking her out on a date. How ridiculous could one guy be. Her back warmed by the bleached out and flaming car, Randi remembered his eyes and recalled the moment when they stared at her piercing and vulnerable at the same time. Knowing there was every reason in the world to hang up and tell him to contact the tip line if he hears something, Randi couldn’t do it, and somehow completely understood what he meant when he talked about not wanting to just let something like this just go away. She wanted to see him again, and she couldn’t logically explain why. I don’t know, this is a little weird you asking me out like this.

“Ya maybe, but I thought how else was I going to do it. Wait until a few days go by. I dunno, I saw you, I want to see you again, and so I’m asking you if you want to maybe see me again soon.”

Randi wasn’t used to someone being so matter of fact. She wasn’t used to anyone asking her out at all. “I guess I could text you when I’m done. Could probably use a drink after a day like this. “I’m going to warn you though. I’m a detective. So anything could come up and I might have to bail on you last minute.”

“Duly noted. I look forward to your text, detective.”

They hung up.

Randi didn’t know what she had just gotten herself into. At least she had a way out, but all day she started thinking about how she would rather be there with this attractive, but obviously strange guy. Through the fifty or so interviews she conducted herself that turned up nothing, everyone seemed to be on vacation already or only looked out the window when there were flames, she kept coming back to the idea of going. She started looking forward to sitting down for a drink with this attractive guy she had just met. It might be just what she needed.

“Is this even a date?” she asked herself.

Randi met James in a martini bar downtown. She went home after work, showered and changed. The day left her lonely and…hungry. For the first time in quite a while, she shaved her legs, and slipped into a black lace thong. Nothing wrong with getting lucky tonight. Randi fought with herself the whole way though pulling up that pair of panties. Everyone at the office teased her about it, about not putting herself back out there. Although no one would say the exact words they all knew that she’d grieved long enough, it was time to live life again, but is this really the situation to do it in. It’s not like she met this guy in a normal way. Randi didn’t really know anymore though. It’s not like her life had been anything but normal, and it’s not like she had ever been part of a dating scene. The kind that is portrayed on television and in romantic comedies as normal. The only thing she had to work with was the feeling that she wanted to and actually really felt like just getting laid. She wanted to wear the black lace thong and she wanted it to be that odd but incredibly handsome guy she had run into to pull them off her.

As she tugged a tight red dress over her head, her eye caught Devon’s photo on her bedside table, dressed in his uniform, standing tall and proud. The photo was before the war broke him. Before the real Devon died overseas and the shell of what he was came back to pretend to live the life Randi and the real Devon had.

“I’m sorry,” she said to his photo, and turned away from it to zip up her dress, pick up her purse, and head out to where the cab idled. She knew she needed this.

James was there when she arrived, waiting for her at a dark table for two tucked off in a corner. He stood, held her chair, and did an admirable job not ogling her ample breasts. Most men couldn’t peel their eyes off them, so the fact he kept his eyes on her face gave him major points, in her book. They ordered drinks, and she got a strong one, her favorite when she wanted to make bad decisions, a Long Island iced tea. He ordered a martini, stirred. He shrugged and said he was no Bond. “Did you catch your man?”

“Ha, no. I did find a burning car with all trace evidence removed. Not much to go on.”

“Trace evidence removed?”

“Oh, you know, hair, DNA, anything like that.”

“The fire burns it all out?”

Randi gave him her best smile. “Please forgive me. I really don’t have any interest in talking about work. I was there for fifteen hours today, and I want to relax. Besides, I know I gave you my number under the pretence of you helping out with this case, but I shouldn’t really discuss too much with you.”

The waiter placed their drinks in front of them.

He held up his hands. “Okay then, I get the hint loud and clear. Let’s just move on. I guess I’m more interested in how I can help you relax anyways.”

“Honestly?”

He nodded. He seemed to be picking up what she had been thinking about while pulling on the skimpy panites she found at the bottom of her underwear drawer.

She took a long pull from her drink. There’s probably one thing you could do to help me relax a little.

“The bathroom?”

“Definitely...no wait what?” she said. She was more than a little shocked it was happening so quickly, that this guy was so fast and forward, and that she liked the thought of what he was suggesting. She had imagined herself drinking at least a couple more drinks, slowly getting more loose and flirty, her thoughts of Devon pushed way back in her mind and not found again until the morning. Spending at least a few hours hinting and teasing until he picked up where she wanted to go with the night and started being more hands on. Right now, James was skipping all of that. He knew what she wanted, and didn’t seem ready to play any games. Randi, now that she knew she didn’t need to go through all those motions either, was surprised to find herself totally relieved. No games, no social graces, no long night of the two of them slowly maneuvering each other toward the bedroom. They both wanted it, they were both going to give it to each other. 

Randi didn’t do this sort of thing. She had barely had sex since Devon, but she stopped trying to think of why she wouldn’t in the moment. It’s what she wanted. It’s the reason she put on the lace thong. She was tired and frazzled from the day and here was her cure. She was going to take it.

Her head buzzed, and not from the drink, though drunkenness would follow soon enough. She’d had a few wild nights in college once. Then she’d met Devon, and decided never again. They said their vows, ‘til death do them part. Little did she know how soon the unthinkable would happen. So what did it matter if she fucked a stranger in a bar bathroom? What did any of this really matter anyways. She could use a little pleasure in her life.

They both pounded their drinks, and he led her down an angled flight of stairs to a unisex bathroom next to a store room. He locked the door behind him.

He could be anyone, could do anything. She only knew that he was the type of guy to immediately call a detective after getting her number to ask her out on a date, and that he was the type of guy with the confidence to suggest that they go and do something like this after having been around each other for a total of about thirty minutes. It flooded her with lust and she lunged for him, kissing him, smearing him with her lipstick. Their teeth crashed together, their tongues fought, and she ground her hips against him.

*              *              * 

The awkwardness of cleaning themselves up, zipping up, and not making eye contact.

“That was fun,” she said.

“Yeah, sure was,” he replied.

“I’m going to go, though.”

“Umm okay. You want a ride home or something?”

“No, It’s not far.”

“Anything I can you know…do for you?”

“I think you did great, thanks. Like I said. Long day. Needed to relax. I’m now so relaxed I can’t walk.”

“Okay. Well.”

“Goodnight,” she said for him.

“Goodnight.”

He left her in the bathroom. The stockings were a total loss, she pulled them off and threw them in the trash. Her dress was stretched in weird ways, but it was dark out, so she figured she could make it out without drawing too much attention.

She fixed her lipstick. She’d told the truth. She
was
relaxed. Tonight she’d sleep like the dead, something that didn’t happen very often at all. Once she decided she was presentable, she left the bathroom, the bar, and took a cab home. She was more than a little worried the people in the bar knew they did, but as she climbed the stairs to her apartment the way her body felt was more than worth the possibility some random strangers thought bad of her. What did she care, she was probably never going to see any of them ever again. Matter of fact, she was probably never going to see James again either.

*              *              *

James got back to his Penthouse apartment about twenty minutes later. He found himself in something of a state of shock. She didn’t want him. Women always wanted him. She’d only wanted to screw and then leave…

His plan was to lure her in. Get her to want to see him again. Have sex a bunch of times while he got inside information on where the investigation was going, and whether he had something to worry about.

When James’ plans don’t work out it frustrates him, and this woman had messed with his plan just as much as that idiot Blitzen did. Hell, it was her job to make sure that all his big plans get messed up, but that even wasn’t all that bothered him, though. What really ate at him was the fact that
he
now felt like he wanted
her
. Something about her excited him, and not just her being the detective working on his case. He loved how she’d been so free and blunt and yet so submissive. He wanted to hold her, to have her again…there were so many more things he’d like to do with her and to her.

Usually, he played the forward and aggressive game with the girls and they giggled and pretended like they wanted him to stop. Randi though called him on it and took him up on it. Worse yet, it felt like she was the one getting what she wanted. James didn’t like not having the power in this situation. But it was also so hot to be with her. He couldn’t believe how he felt while he was having sex with her. It was like her body was a ball of heat, and this heat consumed him until he totally lost his plans, his games, who he was, and became nothing but his desire for this other body. 

He needed to talk to her again. If only to feel that way again.

It could never work out. James had given up on the idea that he would have a relationship while he was living the life he was. He didn’t want one to begin with. For James, there were only his plans and the jobs. Scoring as much cash as he could and disappearing forever before anything could catch up to him, but he couldn’t ignore what he just felt being with another person. Maybe this was all in his mind. The thought of seeing if this was true by getting to do that with Randi again made him more excited than he thought it would.

He busied himself examining a floorplan for Fairlee First National bank, trying to imagine how he’d stage this heist that he had been planning for a long time. Bank robbing got less and less lucrative as time went on, and he knew he’d have to switch gears soon enough. He’d need a new plan before much longer. Especially from the results of his last project. One man dead. He never worked with the same guys twice, and with the results of the last job, the pool of talent was obviously getting a bit shallow.

James kneaded at his temples, then went to his bedroom and changed out of his suit, into sweats. He could smell her on his clothes. Damn, he wanted her. It made him want to keep his shirt from the laundry so he could breathe her perfume when he missed her.

In his past life, he’d tried to find other work. He couldn’t. No one wanted to hire a veteran with a dishonorable discharge. So what if his discharge came for a damn good reason, it still gave him a huge black mark. Nobody ever gave him a chance so he took what he needed. It took some learning but now he could take more than he needed. But why not have a fine life, if only as a screw you to everyone who said he wouldn’t amount to anything.

At one point in his life James Moore believed if he worked hard and did what was right then he would always get what he needed and deserved. The night this belief ended was one he thought about often.

After his second tour of Afghanistan, back at Fort Bragg in North Carolina, he’d been out at a bar with some of his friends, JT and Mark. It was a nice night. Everyone having a good time. James had been promoted, was about to head back to Afghanistan for a third time. He wasn’t happy about it, but his unit was solid, and he loved the Army. Plus it was his birthday and the three of them were determined to have a good time.

“Is that Vince?” JT had asked, pointing to where a beefy guy loomed over a petite Filipino woman.

It was indeed. Vince their Commanding Officer. James had seen him do some sketchy shit overseas, but the unit pulled through, sometimes because of him and sometimes despite of him. There was no doubt James had some respect for Vince, but he also knew what he was capable of. Now he was all up on this poor woman. Not letting her get away.

“Ignore it, man,” Mark said. “We got a big day tomorrow.”

Not proud of himself, James tried. They shot some pool. Mark started talking with a gorgeous woman who may or may not have been a hooker. James saw Vince lead the girl out the back of the bar. Her voice carried enough for him to hear her say “no” over the ambient din.

“I gotta help her.” He shoved his stool back and stood up, made for the door.

Stepped out into the cool North Carolina night. The parking lot seemed quiet, cars sitting in pools of streetlights. Nothing moved. Had he been mistaken?

Then he heard a quick yelp from his left, and all his training flooded back to him. He dropped to a crouch and made his way around the building.

Vince was hitting the woman. From here, James could hear him muttering “you should want this.”

James saw red and charged. Hauled Vince off, rank be damned. The woman slumped to a puddle on the damp pavement. He punched and he punched, Vince’s face turning into red pulp.

He barely remembered JT and Mark pulling him off. Barely remembered the cops coming.

It didn’t matter because he’d been too late anyway. The coroner thought Vince’s first hit to the woman killed her, a lucky strike to the head which dropped her without a chance. And Vince? He was still alive. Technically. Connected to tubes in a coma he’d never wake up from.

James did some jail time. Was dishonorably discharged. Could never work again.

He moved cities, changed his look, changed his name, but nothing worked for long. That one night always seemed to catch up to him no matter what he did. Until one night. He was washing dishes in a dive bar. Trying to string together a few dollars to buy some groceries after he came up with enough to pay his rent, which was now almost ten days late. He was surprised to hear a voice call out his name and turned to see Mark behind him smiling.

Mark told him he had been trying to track him down for weeks, and he had a job to do that he knew he would be perfect for. The job was to knock over a bank in a small town. Mark had gotten in with a professional and they needed a third to do the plan. James didn’t think too long about it. He had had enough taken from him in his life. It was time to take some back.