The F King:A Bad Boy Romance(5)

I christen this ship the S.S Fucked Investigation!

The heavily tattooed man went straight to the floor, hitting it even  before all the green shards of glass and alcoholic spray, and a  butterfly knife clattered to the ground next to him. Ryan and his  remaining opponent looked at me incredulously, before the gang member's  expression changed. His face was a shrine to pure rage, with his  bloodied nose as a high altar.

He took a wild swing at me, which I ducked, and I landed a jab on his  chin while he was still off-balance. He swung with the other hand, and I  ducked again. Better to miss the bus than stand in front of it.

I landed another jab to his chin, rocking his head back just as Ryan  caught his breath and hit him with a harder punch than I could muster,  sending him sprawling backwards. The Cannibal groaned for a second, and  that was when I realized the music had stopped and everybody in the club  was looking at us.

He was just crawling to his feet when Ryan punted him in the head and it  was lights out. In the aftermath of the fight, libraries were quieter  than this nightclub. I wouldn't have been surprised if somebody shushed  me because of how loud my heart sounded in my ears.

Everybody was looking at us like we might pull out guns if they moved a  muscle. Security was nowhere in sight, and the lights kept on dancing as  if the music hadn't stopped. It was the most surreal moment of my life  by a long shot.

Ryan's eyes darted from the two bodies on the floor, to the knife, to  me, and then through everything again as he tried to take it all in  himself. Murmurs started around the edges of the room as people started  to regain their nerve and test the waters.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," Ryan said.

I nodded and he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the room like we were  escaping a bank robbery. The colder outside air hit me when we came  through the doors and blew away some of the cobwebs that seemed to have  entangled my brain, but not all.

My head was still spinning at how fast my undercover assignment had  moved from all-too-easy, to pretty-much-screwed, to  bar-room-brawl-train-wreck. You wouldn't see my methodology in any  textbooks, that was for sure.         

     



 

Ryan whistled and a cab pulled over straight away like it was on a  leash. He bundled me inside, and was barking instructions at the driver  as he climbed in and closed the door.

I sat at the farthest edge of the seat as I tried to compose myself.  Slightly turned towards Ryan, I could see he was staring straight ahead,  breathing deeply and deliberately. Finally, he looked in my direction.

There was no way I could have predicted what I'd see written on his face  when he did that, but one of the last things I expected was to see that  hunger back in his expression. Yet, there it was, and he was moving  across the seat with intent.

Walking on the knife edge of this undercover assignment was even more  difficult than it sounded. I'd only met Ryan an hour ago, and I'd  already fallen off both sides. Surely the only outcome of that would be  me getting cut.

Against everything my briefing and life experience had told me about  what was expected of me, Ryan wasn't intimidated by the way I'd involved  myself in the fight. If anything, he was experiencing the same rush of  adrenaline I was, his body seeking an outlet for all that energy and  excitement, and I was right in the firing line.

I should have remembered how to play it cool, to find my inner tease to  string him along, but against all my better judgement, against  everything that was right for my career and the investigation, I wanted  to be wanted in that moment. There was something so basic and  animalistic about the need, I was almost powerless to fight it.

To fight, win and be adored was a desire deeply ingrained into  everybody. After so many fights, losses, wins and disdain …  I was more  desperate to be admired than was good for me.

Ryan pushed one of my knees aside and invaded my personal space in his  most self-assured move yet. I pushed against his chest weakly, some  overwhelmed part of my brain still putting up some kind of resistance,  but when he buried his hand in the hair at the back of my head, held me  firm, and leaned in, all I could do was lick my lips.





Ryan





This sexy little thing looked even more at home in a fight than she did  on the dancefloor. Her balance and reactions were like somebody on  F-Pro, but those piercing eyes of hers stayed so clear, she was a  fucking work of art.

Was she a cop? Probably …  but my cock was harder for her than any of  those club sluts who were always hanging around. I saw Sarina panting  with the rush of the fight, and I was literally aching for her. The only  thing that could soothe me was feeling that hot pussy wrapped so  fucking tightly around my shaft that I'd have to fuck her with  everything I had just to fuck her at all.

When I pushed her leg to the side and moved closer, grabbing her by the  hair at the back of her head, all she could do was lick her lips and  wait for me. I moved closer and paused with my mouth a fraction of an  inch away from hers, teasing her with how near I was.

I could feel her breath puffing out quick and shallow against me, so  nervous about screwing up her case, but so excited by the fight and by  how close I was all at the same time. She twitched as she fought with  herself and I basked in her inner turmoil.

Three seconds. That's how long she managed to restrain herself, poised  on the brink of our kiss, before she closed the last tiny distance  between us. I knew she'd either stepped over some police bylaw or her  own personal barriers, and she was giving me something she really hadn't  expected to at the start of the night.

Well, I was going to take a whole lot more. As much as I could. Make her  write the most embarrassing report an undercover cop ever had to write.

She inhaled sharply through her nose, then whimpered in the midst of our  kiss. I could feel the faint vibrations through her lips as I took her  breath away.

I gripped her hair tighter and tighter, never relenting with the kiss,  until the sting made her whimper again and squirm in her seat. Fuck I  needed to feel that body writhing against me as I powered my cock into  her depths. I bet she was even better at fucking than she had been at  fighting, her body was the embodiment of sex.

"Hey! No fucking in my cab!" The driver said.

I broke off our kiss to turn to him. "Shut the fuck up and do your job,  if you know what's good for you. Eyes on the road, motherfucker."

He looked pissed but he did what he was told. Besides, he didn't have to  worry about me fucking her here. Did he really think I was going to  fuck a girl like Sarina in front of him? Share a girl this hot? He was  fucking dreaming.

I returned my attentions to Sarina and pulled her head to the side,  exposing her neck. I could see a vein pulsing frantically as she caught  her breath post-kiss, and I touched my lips against her skin almost like  a vampire with his most willing victim.         

     



 

She gasped when I sucked hard, leaving my mark on her as surely as she  was getting wet right now. Her skin tasted like vanilla and the faintest  hint of cinnamon spice, so fucking good.

I licked and sucked my way up to just under her ear, which was like a  wiggle-switch for her. Something about being kissed there was driving  her fucking crazy, and if I was reading her body language right, she'd  make a mess on this poor cabbie's seats if I kept at it long enough.

Her hips gyrated sensually, unconsciously seeking out something to grind  her hot little pussy against, and I listened to her panting get louder  and faster with every movement of my lips against her skin. I pulled  away before she came and pressed my lips against hers, feeling the  desperate puffs of air from her nose as she tried to get the oxygen she  needed to fuel the excitement my touch had ignited in her.

I used her struggle to my advantage, slipping my hand up her thigh while  she was distracted, under her skirt, and kissing hard. Her hand fell on  to my wrist as if she was going to push me away, and I stopped, calling  her bluff.

When I didn't push for a few seconds, I felt an almost imperceptible tug  and I couldn't help but smile in triumph, leaning my forehead against  hers. Sarina knew it too, and quickly turned away, as if she couldn't  handle watching herself give in to these feelings.

I resumed my intoxicating journey up her silky smooth leg and felt the  faint crease where her thigh met her firm little peach of a rear end,  and I paused for a moment to savor this newly conquered ground. Sarina  moved her hand behind my neck as I slipped my fingertips under the  elastic of her panties and gripped her ass cheek.

The feel of her flesh pressed against the palm of my hand drove me  almost as wild as kissing Sarina's neck drove her. I wanted to squeeze  her ass so tight that my hand prints would be bruised into her skin for  weeks and she'd know every time she looked in the mirror exactly where I  was holding when I impaled her on my cock.

The driver pulled over in front of my building, and I caught the  stinkeye from him in the rearview mirror when I looked up. The meter  read a little under twenty bucks, but the first note I pulled out of my  pocket was a fifty, so I threw that in his direction.