Temptation, The Complete Serial Series 1-4 (The Temptation Serial Series) (7 page)

Without flourish, she sat a bright pink flyer on the table that would make Magic Mike blush.
Holy barely covered schlongs everywhere. I mean
everywhere
.

Sin got that stubborn, determined look in her eyes. She nodded intently. “We’re doing this. We are going to watch some men shake their meat rockets.”

I snorted. Meat rockets.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Wait, is Pet—” Morgan stopped herself. She knew better than to call him by name. “Is Mopy Dick the last guy you slept with?”

My nails raked across the Formica. Even his nicknames—though appropriate—pissed me off. “Yes.”

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, patting my hand. “You need this. So. Much.”

“How will Shaney-pooh feel about you going to a male review?”

She smiled. “Who says he has to know? Besides, I’m not looking for action. I’m looking to get some action for YOU!”

“I would never sleep with a male stripper, Sin.”

And I wouldn’t. No offense to them, because I knew they were just earning a living like the rest of us, but it wasn’t my thing. One night stands? Nope. Cocky jerks? Nope. Guys named Peter? Double Nope. Guys who reminded me of severed heads? Hell Nope.

Scrubbing my hands down my face, I mustered the strength to step out of the cruiser. The soles of my boots crunched on the gravel parking lot that led to Wanda’s Lounge. Wanda was a hoot, but she had a notion to bring people in from outside of Swift Rapids. Tonight was no different. She had a group of three male strippers, “The Hulking Hunks,” taking the small stage tonight. And ten minutes ago she called, saying things were getting a bit rowdy.
No shit, Wanda.
Drunk, desperate women and mostly-naked men didn’t make for a calm dinner discussion.

Bone tired from working on my side projects over the weekend, I was counting down the minutes until I was off the clock and could go home and crash into my own bed. Staying at Lynn’s was a mistake, but staying two nights in a row had been a real fuck-up. She begged – literally begged – me to come over tonight, but I didn’t do clingy. I didn’t want her for anything but casual sex and I thought I’d made that more than abundantly clear… at least until I fucked up by staying at her place over the weekend.

Mondays were bastards and this one was no different.

Time to go pour water on all the raging lady boners.

The stench of beer and cigarettes was a thick brick wall and I’d just walked through it. The place was packed. Scanning the crowd, I didn’t see anything unusual. Brenda, a huge woman with short hair and purple glasses, was standing at the stage, holding up a dollar bill. The Italian-looking guy thrust his crotch in her face and then let her stuff the dollar into his…little G-string thing. What the hell were those things, anyway? No self-respecting man would ever wear that shit.

I snorted and scanned the crowd. The women were worked up, sticking their bills into the men’s panties, giggling like schoolgirls who’d just seen their first dick. Wanda waved at me from behind the bar, so I made my way past the mostly-drunk ladies, resting my forearms on the wood that was carved with years of patrons’ names.

“Can I get you a beer, Colt?”

I shook my head, not bothering to hide my displeasure. “I’m on the clock. What’s the problem, Wanda?”

She scoffed. “I think it’s okay now. We had a few get a little out of hand. Tina and Tiny just went home.”

“Tiny sober?”

“Yep. She only had water tonight. I made sure of it.”

A husky laugh from a few stools away drew my attention. I didn’t recognize that voice, or the blonde hair that curled down that delicate back to the swell of one of the finest asses I’d ever seen. The woman had her back to me, but that was okay. It gave me the chance to check her out without being a total creeper, or feeling like one.

Her dark-haired friend caught my eye and smiled, ticking her head toward me and then waiting until her friend turned around. And when she did, for the love of all things holy and those that were not, my dick twitched like it had found its fucking owner.

The traitor dick strained toward her and if it had been a damn dog, it would have rubbed all up those shapely legs.

She had porn star lips, the kind that were plumped artificially with fat from some other chick’s butt or silicone or something just as gross. But I didn’t think they were fake. On her, they fit. They looked right at home on her heart-shaped face. Her eyes were dark brown but I felt like I could swim in them; they shone like glass, no mud clouding those waters.

And then those pretty eyes crossed, trying to focus on me. Damn it. She was wasted.

She slid off her stool onto heels that I was impressed she could still stand on in her condition, and sauntered over to me with her girlfriend hot on her heels.

“Come on, Brook. Let’s leave the nice officer alone,” she pleaded, tugging on Brook’s elbow. Those pleas fell on deaf ears. Pretty deaf ears, I found as she pushed her hair back behind one of them.

Brook slid a crimson-painted fingernail down my chest and I stood up straight, along with my dick. She looked right at me and sighed. “They saved the best for last. Are you the grand finale, Officer. . .” she glanced at my name tag and then back up at me, “Stone?”

Then she gave that husky laugh and nudged her friend. “Morg, his name is Stone.” Morg looked mortified and tried to tug Brook away from me, while Wanda watched the entire thing play out like she was at home watching a bad episode of Cops.

“O—fficer Stone,” she purred. “I bet you’re hard as a rock.” She trailed those slender fingers down my abdomen and then, I’ll be damned if she didn’t rake them over my cock like she knew exactly what she’d find waiting for her.

Wanda coughed and then covered her smile with her fist. Morg’s eyes were like saucers. “Brooklyn! Stop. This nice gentleman is
not
one of the strippers!”

Brooklyn turned to her and when she saw that her friend was serious, she turned back to me. “Remove your hand from my body. Now!” I barked. With a squeak, she jerked her hand away as if she’d been burned.

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, oh, shit!” I yelled. I didn’t mean to yell at her, making her flinch and blink at my harsh tone, but it had been a long day. I loved her hand on me when I shouldn’t even have liked it. Unfortunately it was apparent to all the gawking ladies that I did enjoy it…a lot.

Fucking hell.

Fuck this. I couldn’t deal with the gossips. To jail she would go. “Full name, please?”

She swallowed and then answered, “Brooklyn Harris.”

“Brooklyn Harris, you are under arrest for assault. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do or say can and will be used against you. . .”

She gave her friend another worried look and then lurched, puking all over the shoes I’d spent a half hour shining before my shift started that morning. Wanda ducked beneath the bar and came over to her with a wet towel.

Brook’s friend stepped around the mess and begged me not to arrest her. “It’s her thirtieth birthday,” she explained. “And her life has been completely awful lately so I thought that taking her out and getting her plastered would be a good way to celebrate. It’s my fault. Please,
please
don’t take her to jail.”

Against my better judgment, I nodded. “You sober?”

“Stone cold.”

Despite being vomited on, I managed to smile at the bad pun she made. I looked to Wanda, who nodded. I didn’t trust outsiders.

“Fine. Take her home, Morg.”

She smiled. “It’s Morgan, actually.” At that time, Morgan’s phone rang and in bright white letters was the name of my fucking hero, Shane Justice. The Judge?

“No fucking way,” I scoffed.

“You like MMA, huh? I pegged you for a football or baseball kind of guy.”

I smiled. I liked those, too. Hell, I liked any contact sport, and if she really was talking to Shane Fucking Justice…wow.

“Alright. Just take her home. Where are you staying?” I shouldn’t have asked, because when she answered that they were staying at the infamous Inn and Out, I lost it. “Well, I guess that’s punishment enough.”

Morgan agreed and Brooklyn’s head lolled as we both helped her to Morgan’s car. She was going to have a rough morning. Maybe they’d saved their quarters and could vibrate the hangover away.

As she flopped into the passenger seat like a rag doll, Brooklyn’s head rolled back against the seat’s head rest. “I just wanted to forget
him
.”

My fists clenched. Who was
he
?