Cop (The Police Trilogy Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

ass with his hip, how taut it was against him. His cock had been hard throughout, and it was hard again now, under the table in the diner, as he remembered the moment when her hand had ‘accidentally’ touched his dick again.
    He knew they were moments away from fucking, and that only the imminent arrival of her colleagues had stopped them from tearing one another’s clothes off and getting sucked into a hurricane of sexual frenzy.
    Brandon wanted her so badly, and yet knew he couldn’t have her.
    Maybe that’s why he wanted her as much as he did, but he didn’t think so. There was something about her that really pushed his buttons, a look in her eye that understood him, and at the same time aroused him so much.
    He poked the tines of his fork into the egg yolk and watched it burst, oozing bright yellow rivers onto the plate. He wondered what her pussy would taste like against his tongue, wondered how she would squirm and hold his head as he went down on her.
    A thump on the table made him look up. It was Conrad, emphasising a point, and getting some laughs in the process, even as the crockery continued to rattle from the force of it. The sound of the diner flooded back into Brandon’s ears and he knew the daydream was lost now.
    So he started to eat.
    Everything just tasted better this morning, even the cooling coffee. The sun was bright and beaming too, bathing them in a gentle warmth through the window, casting diamonds of light on the holdall sitting at the end of the table, leaning against the window.
    Brandon still had no idea what was inside, nor why they were carrying it around, nor why it was on such prominent display right now.
    He swallowed a mouthful of food and washed it back with the last dregs of coffee, and the moment he put the mug back down, the waitress appeared to top him up. He looked up and gave her a big smile, which made her give him that look that many women did; the one that let him know they were interested. She was cute too, but didn’t come close to Eve.
    He watched her walk away, not examining her ass the way he normally would.
    When he turned back to look at the bag, his gaze moved beyond it and out into the street, and he suddenly realised what was going on.
    The bag was a taunt.
    A small posse of obvious gang members were gathered on the sidewalk opposite, taking turns to surreptitiously look at the holdall, their anger rising with each passing moment.
    Conrad was waving it under their noses, and having breakfast just to piss them off.
    And it was working too.
    “Oh sweetheart,” Conrad said with a raised, mocking voice.
    The waitress reappeared, darting a simpering look at Brandon, then plastering on a fake smile for the ass calling her.
    “Can I get another Coke?” he instructed rather than asked.
    As she left, he made a crude comment about her sucking his dick in the meantime, and the goons laughed along.
    Brandon stroked the last mouthful of sausage around his plate, mopping up the egg and ketchup, and popped it in his mouth, determined not to descend to their level just to curry favour. He could catch this asshole without pandering; maybe even easier if he didn’t play to his ego.
    Conrad was looking at him, the smile on his face withering, a look of confusion in his eyes, wondering why Brandon wasn’t joining in the mirth.
    “You got a pickle up your ass son?”
    “Nope,” Brandon said, putting his fork down and scooping up his mug.
    The coffee was fresh and hot, and felt great as he swallowed it back.
    Through the window, the posse was getting even more restless, and Brandon began to wonder if they had the balls to do something.
    He was willing to bet not.
    Conrad wasn’t stupid; he knew just how far he could push it, that much Brandon did know.
    But he was ratcheting up the tension deliberately, and Brandon couldn’t figure out why. What purpose did it serve? No doubt, all would become clear as the days went by.
    Brandon was about to scratch his chest, when he