Lesbian Cops Read online

  Just as the pressure reached the hard-enough-to-make-hercome level, Hollis released her. Before Jen could orient herself, return to a semi-normal state, Hollis slipped a clamp over her left nipple, then her right. The pressure rocketed, too painful, too decadent, too immediate, too jarring, too delicious, too… everything. Jen wanted more and she wanted less. Unable to decide, she whimpered and leaned closer to Hollis.

  “I want you to make me come.” Hollis slid out of her shorts and panties as she led Jen around the desk. “Then I’ll decide on a suitable punishment for you.” She reclined into her chair, forcing Jen to her knees and guiding her head between her legs in one smooth motion.

  Jen eased her hands over Hollis’s thighs, working her way up and inward, delighted that she was allowed to touch.

  “Ah-ah, hands behind your back.” She rapped the ruler over Jen’s knuckles.

  “I’m sorry.” Jen slipped her tongue between Hollis’s lips, her words muffled. She fought to keep her balance as she stroked and swirled, experimenting with pressure and motion. She was determined to make Hollis forget her own name.

  Hollis gripped the back of her head, the constant weight of her hand holding Jen steady. Jen thrust her tongue into Hollis, pushing as deep as she could, reaching to find Hollis’s threshold for pleasure. She retracted and thrust again, building a steady rhythm that Hollis matched, her hips jutting into Jen’s face. Jen wanted to grip Hollis around the waist, drag her close, pin her down, and tongue-fuck her until she came.

  The tugging pressure on Jen’s scalp increased sharply in sync with the rising volume of Hollis’s praise. “Fuck…god…damn.” Over and over, the same three words that started as a low, barelythere whisper grew into a proud, desperate mantra.

  Jen dragged her tongue up, applying direct pressure to Hollis’s clit for the first time. She grazed it with her teeth, then sucked it hard between her lips, flicking the tip of her tongue over the tight bundle.

  Hollis gripped Jen’s head tighter, her fingers tangled in her hair, pulling and pushing at the same time. Hollis tensed, perfectly still, yet shaking from the strain as her body tightened. She teetered there on that edge, body quaking, until Jen couldn’t take it any more. Fuck obedience. She slammed two fingers into Hollis’s cunt, fucking her hard and fast.

  “Jesus…fuck…fuck.” Hollis buckled into the chair and tugged Jen up by her hair, covering her mouth in a demanding, invading kiss. “Damn, you’re good at that.”

  As quickly as the kiss began, it ended. Hollis tugged on both nipple clamps, shooting fire to Jen’s center. She almost collapsed in Hollis’s lap.

  “I want you on the floor, face down, ass up. Now.” Hollis’s voice held none of the languid recovery Jen expected. Her recuperation time was record fast.

  As Jen moved into position, Hollis shoved the cushion from her chair under Jen’s head.

  “Keep your hands behind your back this time, or I’ll put the cuffs back on.” She took a set from her top drawer and set them heavily on the desk. “I have a hobby that you are likely unaware of.”

  Jen could hear Hollis moving around as she spoke, and she struggled to keep her head down. What else could she possibly have in her office to use on Jen? Either the ruler or the hairbrush would work nicely.

  “I like to ride.” Hollis’s smile infused her voice, and Jen would have worried if given enough time. “English style.”

  A sharp crack from, presumably, Hollis’s riding crop tore into Jen’s rear end, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. A second and third quickly followed.

  “Feel free to count if it helps.” Two more rapid strokes. “Or cry if you need to.”

  “Six.” Jen grinded her teeth together as another sharp blow caught her low enough to sting her pussy lips.

  Jen counted fifteen before Hollis stopped. The cool counterpoint of Hollis’s hand as she comforted the reddened skin relaxed Jen, and a tear slipped from her eye.

  “So beautiful.” Hollis’s voice was reverent and soft as she massaged Jen’s ass, alternating between gripping and pulling, and gliding softly. “You were splendid.”

  Hollis stretched Jen’s cheeks apart and a jolt of cool air hit her anus, followed almost immediately by a slick, probing tongue. Hollis pressed into Jen, rimming her, as her hands continued to knead the abused flesh. Jen squeezed her muscles tight, all of them, her fingernails digging into her palms, her toes digging into the hard tile. Her nipples dragged against the floor, amping up the fire from the clamps, as she strained against Hollis’s tongue.

  One last swipe and Hollis sat back on her haunches, still holding Jen’s cheeks open. Jen held herself rigid, fighting against the feeling of being exposed, vulnerable.

  “God, I wish I had a strap-on here. I’d fuck your ass so hard you’d come for weeks.”

  Before the words could cool in the air, before Jen’s pussy could stop clenching from the promise, Hollis pushed three fingers into her cunt, so hard and so deep Jen wondered if it really was a strap-on. She set a fast steady pace, increasing to four fingers before Jen was ready, and the stretching pressurepain almost made Jen come instantly. She wasn’t allowed yet, and she gritted her teeth and waited for permission.

  Hollis grasped Jen’s hair, tugging her upright, flush against her, back to front, as she continued to fuck her. The new angle and increasing urgency brought Jen closer to the edge until she was staring down, trying not to fall into the vast chasm before her. She was barely hanging on, her grasp on solid ground tenuous and failing fast.

  Hollis released Jen’s hair and wrapped her arm around her chest, toying with her nipples, one after the other, not letting either rest for more than a second before returning her attention to it. Then, blessedly, she licked the length of Jen’s neck, still thrusting hard inside her cunt.

  “Do you want to come?”

  Jen’s shoulders burned and ached, and her fingers itched to dig into the flesh of Hollis’s belly. Her head swam, furling and dark.

  “Answer me.” Hollis tugged on one of the clamps, pulling and squeezing it tighter. “Do you want to come?”

  Yes…yes…god, yes. Jen couldn’t form the words. Her body was on fire, originating in her pussy and burning outward. She licked her lips. “Y…” She licked them again. “Yes, please, yes.” She begged and cried, unable to think beyond the pounding fist in her cunt and the lightning sharp pressure on her nipples.

  Hollis released her hold on the clamp, leaving it in place, but no longer adding to the pain. She moved her hand swiftly to Jen’s mound, circling her clit with one soft, determined finger. “You can.” She bit down on the meaty flesh of Jen’s shoulder as she spoke.

  Jen froze. Permission. She opened herself to the pressure in her cunt, her clit, her nipples, and sharp tear of teeth at her pulse point. The dark, blurry edges of her vision overpowered the light and she surrendered, falling head first into the abyss.

  When Jen came to, Hollis was dressed and staring at her intently. The polished leather of her riding boots sat in stark contrast to the dull linoleum tiles. She tucked the crop under her arm, a tight, secret smile gracing her lips.

  “Tomorrow,” she said as she turned on her heel and headed out the door, “try not to disrupt my class again.”

  The door closed with a solid, final click, and Jen roused herself enough to begin getting dressed. Her body felt battered and spent, but all other evidence of their encounter—the clamps, the ruler, the never-used hairbrush, even the pillow—was gone. She pulled her shirt over her head, taking inventory of the tender and sore places.

  Hollis was right; tomorrow Jen would be the model student. But the next day, or perhaps the day after, when her body had recovered… well, that remained to be seen.

  Jen slipped out of Special Agent Beverly Hollis’s office and took one final glance around the room before closing the door. She wasn’t too worried about the details of the room. She would be back again soon enough.

  ONLY GAME IN TOWN

  Delilah Devlin


  I wondered why I’d bothered changing out of my uniform before hitting the bar. Back in the city, the department had strict rules about drinking in uniform. Here, a circle of black uniforms sat crowded around the table in the far corner, cold beers sweating on the scarred wood.

  Lonny James caught sight of me and waved me over. “Make room, guys.”

  He said guys, but there was another female among them: Officer Brown, the bicycle cop who patrolled up and down Main Street in little black bike shorts during shopping hours.

  I gave her a nod, then glanced around the table. Lonny pulled out the chair beside him without rising. I sank into it gratefully and accepted the beer he slid my way.

  “So how was your first day?”

  I shrugged. Boring might sound rude, like a big city cop telling the rest of them their jobs were cakewalks. “It was okay, I guess.”

  “Get any looks?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We aren’t used to female cops here.”

  My glance swung toward Office Brown whose lips pressed into a thin line.

  “You’ve already got one,” I murmured.

  “Yeah, but…” Lonny wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and apparently had to think a minute about how to respond when he thought everyone should already know. “She’s on a bike.”

  What an idiot.

  I gave a soft laugh, rolled my eyes at Brown and sucked down foam as the men on my shift began to talk about their interesting day.

  Lonny’s story was the best. He’d intervened between two yard archrivals over a dispute about a sycamore that dropped its pods on the wrong side of a fence. Lonny might not have been all that sharp, but his slow, drawling recounting of how he’d faced off against men armed with a chain saw and a rake had everyone chuckling, including me.

  Lonny’s gaze dropped to my mouth. “You’re pretty when you smile,” he whispered.

  I arched an eyebrow, suddenly uncomfortable because his thigh was pushing against mine.

  I slipped a pen from my purse, out of sight of the others, and jabbed his thigh.

  He jumped, cussing loudly, but when the others glanced his way, he said, “Caught my toe under the chair.”

  He wore steel-toed boots. Like I said, not the brightest lightbulb.

  When he settled again, he scooted his chair away. “If I’d known you swung that way,” he muttered loudly, “I’d have suggested you take the seat next to Brown.”

  “Thanks for the suggestion,” I said, picking up my drink and walking around the table, aware that all eyes in the bar were on me, and everyone was drawing the same conclusion.

  I sat beside Officer Brown, giving her only a quick glance. I didn’t want to assume a damn thing. “He always such a dick?” I muttered.

  She laughed and held out her hand. “Ramona, and yeah, he thinks he’s a stud because he has a badge.”

  “Cathy.” I offered a smile along with my hand. “Glad it wasn’t just me.”

  The officer on the other side of her shook his head. “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s the sheriff’s nephew, and Horace knows good and well he’s an idiot.”

  “We’re a little light on the formalities here,” Ramona said, eyeing my street clothes. “And they should have assigned you a sponsor—someone to show you the ropes.”

  “Really?”

  “Sheriff probably didn’t want to assign one of the married guys because their wives wouldn’t like it. You’re too pretty. And he couldn’t assign Lonny, well, because he’s…”

  “An idiot.”

  We shared a grin. I liked the way her smile pulled up the corners of her eyes, slanting them, betraying a drop of Asian blood mixed with the glorious Creole that painted her skin a lovely dark cream.

  “So, why didn’t he give me you?” I said slowly, holding her gaze.

  She blinked and a flush colored her cheeks. “He didn’t want you to be offended.”

  I nodded my understanding. My instincts hadn’t lied. “Can I request you?”

  “There’s not a lot you can’t figure out for yourself,” she said, stirring a fingertip in the top of her mixed drink.

  “That mean you’re not interested?” I asked under my breath, wanting to keep our conversation on the down low.

  Her eyes widened, and her glance slid away.

  I blew out a breath and looked away—into her friend’s narrowed glare. I wondered if I had her figured all wrong and he was her boyfriend. Or maybe I’d just come on too strong. But I’m not the kind of girl to let a good thing slip away, not if I can help it.

  I took another gulp of my beer, trying to figure out how to exit now that I’d shown my ass to everyone.

  Chairs scraped. I glanced up to see the men rising, stretching out their arms and sharing teasing jibes as they prepared to leave.

  “Welcome to Canaan,” the guy sitting beside Ramona said. He lifted a brow at Ramona, and paused, but she stayed seated. He left with the others.

  “That wasn’t at all obvious,” she muttered.

  I wrinkled my nose. “I know how to clear a room.”

  She gave a scoffing laugh. “It wasn’t about your bad behavior. Jonesy was giving us time alone to get to know each other. He didn’t think you’d want to out yourself your first damn day. It’s a small town. And this is the Bible Belt.”

  “It worry you? Them knowing?”

  “Only if it bothers you.”

  I smiled, relieved I hadn’t blown it. “Fact is, I hoped I’d get a chance to talk to you alone. And I could give a shit whether they’re disappointed that I don’t swing their way.”

  Ramona’s lips pressed into a thin line.

  I couldn’t tell if she was disapproving of my forwardness or trying to hide a smile.

  She cleared her throat. “Most of them are pretty decent—so long as we’re not in their face about it.”

  I nodded and sat back in my chair, crossing one jeans-clad leg over the other. “You dating anyone?”

  “Around…” She shrugged. “No one special. You?”

  “Same.”

  Shoving her drink away, she planted an elbow on the table and leaned closer. “Look, you’re new. I don’t jump in and out of bed with every available dyke just because there are too damn few of us here.”

  “And I’m not hitting on you because you’re the only game in town. Besides, I didn’t ask you to sleep with me.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay, I want to, but I’ll give you a chance to know me first.” Sensing I’d pushed her far enough, I rose, dropped folded bills on the table to tip the waitress, and held out her chair. She stood up, smiling but looking a little uncomfortable at the attention we drew.

  We parted at the door, exchanging nods, and I headed home. Regrettably, alone.

  The next few days were a little strained around the guys. Word got around. Sly glances followed me everywhere. But since I didn’t rise to any of their innuendos, the excitement faded and they found someone else to hound.

  This day, I’d parked my car at the Stop ’n’ Go. It might be small-town Louisiana, but bandits still preferred the ease of a quickie robbery when they were low on cash. The store had been hit twice in the past six months, and the sheriff had promised a “presence” to the owner. So, in between calls, I parked in the hot sun at the edge of the parking lot, running my AC with the window open to ease the humidity inside the vehicle.

  The whir of spokes catching the wind whizzed by my car. Little black shorts hugging a nicely rounded backside caught my attention.

  Ramona halted at the edge of the curb next to the shop’s front door and eased off her helmet. Sweat stained the center of her back, and her hair lay in wet, tangled spikes around her head. She glanced my way and gave me a smile that set my heart beating faster, then entered the store.

  I opened my car door, dumped the fresh cup of coffee I’d bought just a few minutes before and headed inside.

  “Back so soon?” Dolores asked from her seat behind the counter.<
br />
  I gave a quick glance around the aisles but didn’t find my quarry. “That cup went right through me,” I said, making my way to the restroom in the back.

  Once the door swung shut behind me, I quietly locked it.

  A toilet flushed. The stall door opened. Ramona stepped out and her eyes widened. “Didn’t hear you come in, Cath.”

  “I won’t keep you long.”

  She walked to the sink, soaped up and cleansed her hands, then used a paper towel to wipe the sweat from her face. “What is it you want?”

  I leaned against the bathroom door and folded my arms over my chest. “You said we should take some time to know each other, but that’s never gonna happen if you’re avoiding me.”

  She met my glance in the mirror. Challenge glittered in her golden brown eyes. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Why’d I come here when I could have chosen a dozen other businesses to stop in?”

  I raised a brow. “Maybe because it’s public and you could say you weren’t avoiding me and get away with it?”

  She grunted, her lips twisting. “Again, what is it you want?”

  This wasn’t going well. Again, I felt like I had two left feet. “How about a yes or no?” I blurted. “Wanna go out?”

  She gave a feminine grunt. “No.”

  The disappointment cut, but I nodded, firmed my chin and began to turn.

  “There’s not anywhere in public we can go together, Cath. The sheriff wouldn’t like it if we paraded a date. But I’d like you to come over for dinner.”

  “Your place?” I said, forcing the words past a tightened throat.

  “Yeah. Tonight.” She sauntered forward and tucked her fingers under the sharp edges of my buttoned collar. Her hand twisted, cinching it around my throat and pulling me down.

  I’d kissed women before. Even kissed a few men. This was hotter than any of those—even with two layers of Kevlar between our chests.