One day last year I was chatting with a couple of other romance authors, and one of them announced that there was a group of cops outside her window. My imagination went wild. I wanted to know everything. And then, of course, my naughty side started working out a scenario that would be erotic. The result was Position Secured. A story about a woman interrupted, and the cop who wants to change her mind about the boys in blue. Sound interesting? How about an excerpt?
“You might want to leave the room, ma’am.” The cop spoke in the same voice he’d used to communicate with his team, so she wasn’t completely sure he was talking to her until he continued. “Just stay away from the windows.”
“Echo three, affirmative. Position secured.”
Mari backed against the hallway wall. She still had a good view of him through the door. Long moments passed. Mari’s breathing echoed in the hallway, and her heart thumped a heavy cadence. The megaphone below blared, but the sniper in her bedroom hadn’t moved one sinewy muscle. She wasn’t sure if he’d even blinked.
Damn, the man was one giant hunk of sex. His face had that rugged masculinity that she found extremely appealing. He wasn’t one to cover a men’s fashion magazine. Nor would he fit the part as a boy band front man. This guy looked like he’d been in a few fistfights in his time. He had an imperfect shape to his nose, and the stern set to his lips made him look fearsome and deliciously sexy, which was odd, because she didn’t even prefer white guys. Or cops. There must be something seriously wrong with her if there was a bad deal going down in her backyard—bad enough to call in a sniper—and she could think only of the man’s sex appeal.
Her hand was still clutching her robe to her breasts. The rapid rise and fall of her curves moved the satin across her nipples. A glance at her bed and Mari almost groaned. Atop the pillows stacked in the middle of the mattress lay Bob, pretty and pink as could be. She could almost see the indentation of her body in the rumpled sheets. She should be embarrassed. She should run into the room and hide the evidence, but instead her loins reacted in an entirely unexpected way. There was a hot as hell cop in her bedroom. Kneeling by her bed. With a gun. And testosterone oozing out of every pore, not two feet from where her sheets still held her body heat.
Marcus still didn’t flinch. He was completely focused on his job. In an uncharacteristic and severely reckless move, Mari slipped her hand between the folds of her robe and stroked herself. Damn, she was even wetter now than she’d been before she was interrupted.
She let go of the lapels of her robe and cupped her breast with her free hand. She imagined this cop in her bed. He would look into her eyes, his fingers would play with her clit. Stroke her just like this. Oh, God, yes.
He’d kiss her nose. That ruggedly sexy face would soften. Desire would make his eyes look glassy. He wouldn’t even notice her extra layer of fluff. He would kiss her everywhere. He’d touch every inch of her skin and treat her as if she were as beautiful as a supermodel. “Do you like this?” he’d say.
“Mmm.” Mari almost moaned aloud in answer. Then he’d kiss her. Hard. With those sexy, no nonsense lips. He’d shove two thick fingers inside her just like his tongue was ravaging her mouth. Then he’d pull back to kiss her jaw, and say…
“Echo three, affirmative.” His voice almost broke her out of her fantasy, but he hadn’t moved. It was still safe.
Now tell me, have you ever been interrupted?